#soooo hard to narrow down even this much though..... i have no trouble saying that luxray sylveon and gastrodon are top 3

[nymphaerie]

enjoying this trend i saw through @haveyouusedthispokemon so i thought id jump in ^_^

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Ch 10 part 1

masterpost

“Tyranny!” Damian bellowed. His little face was red with fury.

Cass crossed her arms and nodded agreement. She was not accepting any more changes to her life at this time. Things were already happening, too much.

“Nevertheless,” said cruel Batdad. “The pediatric nutritionist will be here tomorrow.” He was trying very hard to seem composed and unaffected by their upset. But he was affected. So affected. And yet he persisted on traveling down the wrong path.

Cass hissed.

Their natural ally, Alfred, put his nose up a little as he cleared the dinner dishes. He sniffed as he left, unhappy-stiff. Cass did not know how he had been defeated. Food was his domain, not some interloper with a pathetic weepy Doctorate of nutritional sciences.

“He designs the meal plans for child Olympians,” Batdad coaxed. He wanted them to like him soooo much. “Standard advice is not necessarily very useful for extreme athletes. You might feel better afterwards. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Gentle, gentle, pleading.

No!!!

Damian stabbed his fork upright into his cinnamon roll and pointed an index finger at their tormentor. “I will not submit. I consume an adequately varied and nutritious diet. Whatever your true aims are, I will not be moved.”

Cass scarfed down her own dessert messily, scowling at Batdad the whole time as if to say: come and take it from me. Can you? You can’t.

Duke watched this with clever eyes darting between Batdad and his siblings. His body said: I don’t care. But I won’t pick Bruce publicly. What can I get? Can I make trouble? 

Hmm. Cass didn’t like that. She narrowed her eyes at him. He should philosophically agree with their cause. She was going to crawl under his bed and hiss, scary sounds to wake him up and go BOO. 

She made a mental note to do that before patrol tonight. If she could even fit it in, jeeze.

Ugh. So busy. Always so much to do.

The tension was high when they trooped to the cave for briefing, before Duke went to bed and everyone else took their pre-patrol nap. Cass lingered sullenly because she wanted to hear Duke’s report on the mechanic. Jacqueline’s apartment had been sneakily snuck through. The conclusion?

“There’s a lot of work clothes in the apartment, but no tools or anything like that. No references or books, aside from a couple of ones from the university library.” Duke fidgeted, micromovement. Not an interesting report. Not an enjoyable detour. “There’s no indication as to what she’s been working on. I took DNA samples off some dirty dishes and hair off the sofa. They’re filed for processing.”

Disappointing. The next step was unclear. Cass frowned. Should they try to observe again? Wait for Jacqueline to leave her lair and follow? Perhaps they should enter the apartment and lurk, ask questions. Tell her: We know your criminal associations. Stop it. Stop it, Jacqueline.

Damian stuck his lips out. He would say: This is not a pout, Cain.

It was a pout.

“I see.” Timbird took notes, fingers flying. Tap tap tap. “You’re passing the case back?”

“It’s all yours,” he said, nodding to Damian. Babybat nodded solemnly. My responsibility. He looked at her. Cass nodded: I have your bat-back. Let’s creep on Jacqueline, as a family.

Hmm. It was too quiet. Usually, there was Batdad commentary. She snuck a look at him even though she and Damian were ignoring him for his cruelties.

Batdad was pondering. He was paying enough attention, but his mind was on something else. Hmm. Cass prodded him. “Ah- Tim, did you upload your conclusions about the Amity Park case?”

Oh. Cass kept her body still, letting it say: I’m bored, I don’t care.

Timbird sighed and ruffled his hair. The gel made a little crackle sound. “It’s a massive government coverup,” he said. Unhappy. “I think a few residents fled, but it looks like it was a mass murder of the residents. The tank tracks came from a subdivision called the GIW, which is ridiculously over militarized.” He opened a file on one of the many Batcomputer screens. It showed a complex of buildings, taken from above. Superboy photography? “They’re doing weapons development, and it appears to be based on the designs of local scientists, also missing.”

“These scientists were affiliated with the GIW?” Batdad asked.

Tim shrugged. “Unclear.” His mouth twitched, unhappy. “There’s evidence of some collaboration, but it seemed a relatively normal exchange of information. Now, the GIW appears to have all their patented inventions and is replicating them.”

“So either these scientists are on staff or they have been removed,” Damibat scowled. A grumpy line formed between his eyebrows. So cute. 

“Removed?” Duke repeated, amused.

“From this mortal coil,” Damibat repeated. Impatient. Keep up, Thomas.  Haha. Cass sniggered and stuck her tongue out. Yeah. Keep up, Duke.

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

.

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

[lacunafiction]

Oh man J and R are trouble lmao love them, I was torn between the two while I was playing but then I saw the two for one options and I was like wait... is that a possible poly?? And then you confirmed and I was over the moon^^ Thank you soooo much for working so hard to create such an immersive story with such compelling characters :D Also how would the RO's react to being mistaken for a couple with the MC while in the crushing phase?

Hi Anon <3,

I relate to you. J and R can be appealing in different ways and those differences when contrasted against each other make them interesting, but this:

"I saw the two for one options"

^That made me grin to myself so much. I was hoping some of you would be like 👀 and then pleasantly surprised when seeing that your MC can have scenes with both.

Aw, you're welcome, friend! Thank you for taking the time to read and for being so kind about the demo and its characters. I think being a writer can kind of feel like you're sharing parts of yourself through your characters/plot/themes. I've been working on writing this for quite some time hence the word count, so sharing it made me a little anxious, but you all have been so great. :D

- - -

Scenario: the MC and each RO went to buy some snacks for all five of you. The checkout lady was being a little nosy/nice, but mostly nosy.

Checkout lady: "Aren't you two a cute couple? Hmmm?"

B glances between you and checkout lady, trying to think of something to say, but that is hard to do when a flush is creeping up the back of their neck. Oh, are they blushing? "Uh," B swallows quickly, now very aware of the fact the attention is on them because a sound was made. "I'll take this too, please." A candy bar is smacked down on the counter top from the display case at the register; they don't even know what type it is or if it's milk chocolate. "That will be all, thanks."

S pretends not to have heard the comment made by the checkout lady, except she is holding the bag of chips hostage until you or they respond to her comment. "We're not," S mutters the correction a little dismissively, narrowing their eyes at the sad, little awww their words earn from the checkout lady. "But we do have somewhere to be, so we need to get going."

Later, in the parking lot, S apologizes to you for the lady overstepping and being nosy, watching you with a gentleness that makes it clear that they are not opposed to the idea, but it should be your business alone.

R goes along with it, flashing a self-satisfied smile, though their pale blue eyes have a silent warning to them at the same time. Only the one invasive comment should be made by the checkout lady or else there will be a problem. "It is actually our couple anniversary, which means that this-" a pack of candy is added to the order, "-should be included, no? Or does the store typically offer a discount on roses for couple anniversaries? I want both," R decides, unwilling to take 'no' for an answer.

The two of you make it out of the store and back into the parking lot with an unnecessary bundle of flowers and two types of candy that R let you pick out.

"Maybe we can get free dessert somewhere, if we pose as a couple?" R asks the question with some humor, but watches your reaction closely. "Let me know."

J says nothing, willing to let you decide how to handle the situation. They angle a little more towards you with an expression of tentative yet soft curiosity, but still refuses to agree or disagree with the checkout lady. There is no pressure or expectation to their expression, but if you know what to look for, you may be able to spot some fledgling hope.

The lady is now watching the two of you with rapt attention like its the series finale of her favorite drama, until an angry electronic beep sounds from the register at the lag in scanning items.

The two of you make it out of the store and back into the parking lot. J awkwardly apologizes to you, not specifying what it is for, before ducking back into their truck so you can deliver the the snacks to everyone else. The ride may be a little quieter than usual...

- - -

I've got an idea for JR and may do it later, if you all ask it of me, but don't want this to get too long, atm.

Thanks for the ask!

[The masterpost with the 81k word demo: HERE. Reblogs of the masterpost are greatly appreciated. <3]

[kmomof4]

You said this first, but it really is hard to pick a single favorite story when you enjoy so much of someone’s writing. I really love your stories, and I even went to AO3 to check your whole list and make sure I didn’t forget any which should be mentioned! 😜 (That definitely made the list longer instead of narrowing down to a single favorite! 😅) Anyway, I absolutely adored the birthday one shot you wrote for me “Out of the Fire, Into Tomorrow”!! 💖 I’ve also always had a soft spot for two of your early stories - “True Love Song” and “Time and Again”. “Chosen, Protected & Saved” was a really inventive one I’ve never been able to forget about, and all four of the stories in your A Family Affair series are wonderful!! (Though David’s maybe edges out even Graham and Ruby!!) My very, very favorite is probably either that series or your “In the Viper’s Den” fic. I loved the danger and historical flavor of that one - so AMAZING!!! ♥️♥️♥️

Marta, you have to forgive me for forgetting that this wonderful ask was sitting in my askbox unanswered!!! But, in my defense, I was so overwhelmed when I first found it, it was not POSSIBLE to respond right away!!!

Just as you replied to my ask, I also have to say how much your support of me and my writing has meant over the years. You are such a dear friend, period, but your reblogs and flails… I just can’t tell you. You were one of the first writers I discovered when I started reading ff, and to have the love and support of someone soooo talented and skilled in the art of telling beautiful stories is a blessing I just can’t put into words!!!

I have to mention your statement above that David’s story may have beaten out Ruby and Graham… let me just tell you, my response when I read that was quite obvious and Chris had to know what was going on. So I told him and his response echoed mine… WOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!

Again, echoing what you said in your answer to my ask, it means so much that you had trouble picking a favorite of my fics and what you ended up settling on thrilled me to death!!! I knew you would read Graham and Ruby’s story, just because of how much you love Graham and want to see him happy in fic, but other than that, I did not expect a single person to read any of the other stories in the series, so choosing the ENTIRE SERIES as a favorite sent me into CONNIPTIONS of delight!!!! And Vipers Den did the same! It is very near and dear to my heart and is one of my personal favorites as well.

Thank you so much for this delightful and so meaningful ask, my friend!! It has made my ENTIRE WEEK!!!!

Tell me what your favorite fic of mine is

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[itstittycitybaby]

 A/N: thank you @darlingimmafangirl for this request! I really enjoyed writing it :)) also reader is semi pro equalist. not really but she can understand amon’s pov even though he took it to the extreme of things. curious about yall’s stance on amon’s whole revolution thing. feel free to flood my inbox about it ;))

You could hear the whispers and feel the stares. You weren’t ignorant; being the girlfriend of the beloved chief in Republic City caught a lot of attention. Lin Beifong wasn’t one to make friendships, let alone have a girlfriend. From bystanders eyes she was cold but determined. It was the age gap they whispered about.

Normally, the two of you would eat in after work. Lin was exahausted from the long days of her job. Something about more reports to file and sign (that’s what you got from her grumbling anyway). It had been another boring day at the studio and you wanted to go out. Your art was coming along great, but you were tired of being cooped up all day. Now, however, you regretted it.

 Lin was older;her hair had grayed and the crows feet around her eyes told a story. However, she was still gorgeous with her green eyes as they glittered underneath the light of the booth the two of you sat at. She was incredibly strong both physically and mentally. Lin was in her early fifties, while you were in your mid twenties. 

Your relationship was difficult to even start. Lin already had trouble with relationships as a whole, but to be with someone more than a decade younger than her? That was another problem in itself. 

“You’re doing it again,” Lin murmured as she took a sip from her drink. “Hm?” “Thinking. Getting lost in your thoughts.” “Oh,” you replied softly, trying to forget about the waiter’s surprised expression after you squeezed Lin’s hand over the table. “Just...a bit nervous is all.” She shot a brow in response. “Everyone’s staring,” you mumbled, folding your hands into your lap. Lin hummed, “I suppose we make an odd couple.” “Doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking it off. “I’d rather be here with you.” She smiled softly, yet you could tell her gaze wavered. “You shouldn’t care so much about what everyone thinks,” she murmured, cutting her fork into her food. “I know,” you replied, “I just need to be here in the present.” “Atta girl.”

There was a ceremony for the avatar after Amon’s defeat. Your joints and limbs ached from protecting the people from the equalists. Even the fire in your blood weakened but Katara assured you you’d be back in no time. All the fighting and all the emotional drainage took a toll on you. Though, you couldn’t say much. At least you were fortunate enough to protect your bending. You sat at the bar of the ballroom, swinging your legs as you waited for Lin to join you. She had to stay with councilman Tenzin and Korra while the reporters flocked around them. The red dress clung to your figure tightly and stopped mid thigh. You swirled a wine glass absentmindedly, mulling over the past couple of months you had been through. The disappearance of Amon took a huge burden off of Korra and Lin, but you still couldn’t help but feel unhappy. Amon wanted everyone to be equal, and yes he took it to the extreme of things, but he strived for balance. He was right about the haughtiness in benders and how they carried themselves. Even you had trouble with the ego of bending. Even though Amon had escaped, your bones felt heavy. Something told you that he was dead. It didn’t matter anymore did it? “Mind if I buy you a drink?” Glancing over, a man around your age slid in the stool next to you. You raised a brow taking a sip before replying. “I’m fine thank you.” 

“C’mon don’t be so uptight sweetheart.” You shot him a glare, your jaw clenched together. “I said. I’m fine.” The man snorted. His brown eyes glanced to your ears and his glance became curious. The gold earrings you wore twinkled in the light. They were an anniversary gift Lin had given you for occasions such as these. Two precious rubies dripped from each earring along with the necklace you wore.

“There you are.” The anger in your veins dissipated from the voice you’ve been waiting to hear all night. You smiled, turning to Lin. Sliding out of the barstool you sighed,“Finally, I’ve been waiting for a while now.” Lin hummed, “I was kept up by the reporters.” You giggled at the annoyance in her tone. She wanted to go home and rest while everyone else danced the night away. You couldn’t really blame her. 

Glancing back, you noticed the man’s eyes bulging out of his head. He looked like a toad as he stared at that two of you. Lin’s eyes narrowed, holding his stare. “Is there a problem,” she snapped, crossing her arms. The man shook his head quickly, “N-no.” “Carry on then.” He turned quickly and you giggled as he stared down into his drink.

He muttered the words “gold digger” as the two of you left the bar.

“You’re dating?” Lin could feel the headache already starting to form. For god’s sake the two of you just got here. “Yes, we’re dating,” Lin confirmed, albeit a bit harshly. Tenzin’s brows raised in surprise while his kids squawked around him. Lin’s distaste for children didn’t lessen slightly. You stood next to her fumbling over your words and twiddling with your fingers. Your cheeks were pink in contrast to Lin’s tugging frown. ‘So much for secrecy,�� you thought. Tenzin gaped like a fish and closed his mouth. This proceeded to continue for several seconds until eventually he kept it shut. “Out with it,” Lin huffed. Her posture was rigid and she seethed with anger. It was supposed to be a nice picnic with just the two of you. Tenzin and his family seemed to have other plans, however. “I-I’m not trying to be rude,” he sputtered. “But Lin you’re definitely much older.” These types of conversations were nothing new. However, Lin seemed to be very upset. “Councilman Tenzin,” you murmured sharply, “With all do respect, it is none of your business.” He deflated at your response. You were known for keeping your cool, going against the stigma of firebenders. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and I will be going home. Have a lovely day.” Grabbing the supplies you and Lin trekked back home.

Lin groaned as she flopped on the couch. The picnic’s failure soured her mood. “It seems like we can’t go anywhere these days,” she grumbled. “I take one day off from work.” You sighed as you finished putting away the uneaten packed food. “I know dear, I know.”

Lin huffed in reply. “Getting called a gold digger, or being told “I could take care of you soooo much better” gets really tiring after awhile,” you said through gritted teeth. Lin’s eyes softened. Slowly she made her way into the kitchen where you unpacked the basket. “I didn’t know you were being called that.” You sighed, “It’s fine really, I shouldn’t let it get to me.” Her hand gently grasped your arm. “It’s not fine, you should have told me.” “I know,” you muttered, turning to face her, “but every time I commented about it, it seemed to make you feel bad.”

Lin’s hands grasped your cheeks softly. She gently kissed your lips. “They’ll get used to it,” you said once you both pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Her brows furrowed. “What?” “Yknow, how I handled Tenzin. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. But I guess that’s what’s expected, being a firebender and all. You chuckled humorlessly. Lin laughed, “You handled it perfectly. It was rude to comment on it.” “Besides,” Lin continued, “You’re the calmest firebender I’ve met. Better than that Mako guy.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

“He can be a pain,” you agreed. Lin’s arms wrapped around your lower back.  “It’s hard with the stigma firebenders have. They think we’re all hot headed and destructive. “Nonsense my dear,” Lin replied, leaning down to kiss your head. “You’re the best damn one out there.” You grinned at her response. “And you’re the most hot headed earth bender Republic City’s ever seen.” Lin snorted, “Alright moments over.” You laughed, squeezing her tightly. “Ohhh come on Lin, you know it’s true.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed but you could see the smile on her lips.

[va-3]

Part I

Second Half of my OC’s Information (the photo limit screwed me over)

The 1930s through the 1970s in Taika’s past is still a work in progress as well as the art soooo...probably a part three in the future?

Taika and Raspberry move to California the fall of 1986, although Raspberry finds a more permenant residence in Los Angeles while Taika finds herself on a more wandering path.

In the February of 1987 Taika wandered upon the town of Santa Carla, a town given credit for being home to those who wanted to disappear.

[side note: the jacket and jeans would be colored if only my damn markers hadn’t died]

Taika, a delinquent at heart as always, fit in like a puzzle piece. The punk-graffiti day life appealed to her like any adventure, and the smell of vampires lured her further into the town. She “cleared” a house (the act of killing the owners of a house and taking it for herself) as well as the garage. Taika acquired a 1987 Yamaha Virago via a rich douchebag she easily stole from and offed.

When the nightlife glowed at the boardwalk, it was apparent to the Santa Carla vampires that something was off, although they could not place it.

Taika did not make contact with the vampires for a while, seeming to distance herself just enough to make them curious about the uneasiness on the boardwalk since her arrival. Every now and then a body would turn up, a person snatched into an alleyway and partially eaten. It wasn’t until David met eyes with Taika across the boardwalk that it was clear to the Santa Carla vampires that there was another predator on their territory.

Taika’s aggressiveness and competitiveness are what pull the boys in first, that along with her scent, so much more intoxicating than any other human. A sort of playful rivalry grows between the calta and the vampires—who could last longer making trouble on the boardwalk without getting kicked off by Big Ed, who could score the biggest bonfire of surf nazis, and so on.

In the end it was Marko and Paul who put an end to the rivalry. Dwayne hadn’t thought he’d be able to really approach Taika and David was too prideful to do so. So the chaotic blonde duo took it upon themselves to invite her back to their cave as an act of trust as well as cease fire. David, no matter his pride, was quick to share about the fallen hotel made theirs. She was quick to catch on to the fact that they had been vampires much longer than they appeared. Dwayne brought it to her attention that she clearly knew what they were while they handn’t a single idea what she was.

With that question being asked, she explains what she is, and from there, their trusting relationship grows. The first time they hunt together is remotely terrifying to the vampires, considering she is a monster made for hunting them as well as other supernatural creatures.

The relationship between the boys and Taika blooms into something deeper, though it isn’t apparent to any of them at all at first. It was just small things they realized they loved about her, and her them. They fall in love with her odd little quirks, like how she always has change on her because it’s “shiny and distracting”, or how she’ll braid tiny braids into her hair and sometimes to boys’ hair, or how she makes beautifully delicate carvings out of the bones of their victims, or buys(steals) stuff for the cave while they all sleep, or organizes whatever she can anytime she comes the to cave, and really really likes coconut shrimp.

She steals the boy’s clothing whenever she leaves the cave during the day after a night of events, not that any of them complain. Marko’s crop tops are always her go to, while she wears Paul’s jewelry out and sometimes jeans that Dwayne doesn’t wear anymore. Sometimes Taika and David switch earrings, only because David is hesitant to give her any of his current clothing,. When he finds that he is more possesive of her than he’d openly admit, he gives her extra shirts of his to keep. Taika loves how the vampires smells mask her own; not only is it comforting, but it protects her from any lurking sevren(a post for another time).

Taika only needing three hours of sleep allows her to have a day life of her own, one that tends to breed chaos. Sometimes she’ll go surfing, something she’s become quite adept at, and show up the surf nazis on their own territory. Taika is the only member of the “biker gang” that the surfers ever see during the day, so they let out a lot of their aggression on her because they’re truly too cowardly to face the boys and her head on. The biggest mistake the surfers ever made was the day they decided it’d be humorous to steal her bike in broad daylight. She’d parked her bike(albeit illegally) on the boardwalk when she got to the beach, and when she returned later that day her bike was gone. Needless to say the surfers had invoked the wrath of someothing stronger than them on supernatural levels.

The boys knew something was up the instant they walked into the caves main area to find Taika waiting patiently at the exit. The only tthing she said was she needed a ride, one David gave happily. When the vampires had parked their bikes and Taika had muttered some words of reassurance to fill in her silence, she made a beeline for the carousel, following the ocean-spray smell of the asshole who’d taken her bike. He was standing in line with an arm draped over a girl who couldn’t have looked more trashy, his friends jostling one another as the line moved along. The four vampires followed behind the taller predator, their curiosity evident as they formed a half-crescent around her when she stopped. Taika was quick to clamp her arm onto the girl under the surfer and yank her out of the way, sending her flying onto her butt. Taika was mad, like, really mad. She hooked her hand into the collar of the surfers shirt, ignoring his protest when she yanked him to her.

“Where is it,” she hissed, putting forth minimal effort to keep herself from biting his face off in public. Marko watched in excitement, his thumb between his teeth as his eyes found the surfer’s. This guy was screwed. He raised his hands in surrender and feigned innocence, “Hey, I don’t know what your deal is lady, but I don’t know nothin about anything.”

His friends snickered behind Taika, clearly enjoying how angry they had made her. She narrowed her wild purple eyes, running her tongue over her teeth.

“Where’s my goddamn bike,” she demanded, her voice like ice down his spine. The vampires watched on, looking about occasionally to make sure Big Ed wouldn’t poke his nose where it didn’t belong. His friends burst into laughter again, shoving one another giddily. Taika had half the mind to throw the surfer in her hands at them like a bowling ball at pin, but she repressed her urges.

“You can make this easy or you can make it hard. Give my my bike and I won’t have to kill you.” He pressed his hands to the sides of his face and made a noise imitating a ghost. She stilled, silently in thought for a moment before she scoffed and let go of his shirt.

“Fine. I’ll find it myself. Boys,” she turned sharply on her heel and marched towards her vampires, hooking her hand into Dwayne’s in a way that was supposed to be gentle, but she was too mad. Paul slipped his hand into her back pocket and matched her pace.

“Yeah, run to your queers.”

The boys would swear on their lives that they’d never seen her spin around and tackle someone as fast as she tackled that surfer. He was in the ground in seconds, and Taika was planting hit after hit, taking the few blows he managed to land on her ribs like they were nothing. The surfers friends sprang into action, attacking the boys as well as trying to pry Taika from the much bigger surfer. The surfer’s face was bleeding all over, and he was fighting to stay awake. Taika wanted blood. Her bike’s absence was a small inconvenience that ensured a meal later that night, but the insult to her boys was a direct blow at her. They could trash talk her straight to her face, insult her, whatever made them feel powerful, but no one, no one, says anything about her boys. At last, she was whacked across the face by the baton belonging to Big Ed. The blow stunned her if anything, although she fell to the side and off of the offending surfer. Paul and Marko were quick to her side, helping her to her feet while also readying to catch her if she tried lunge out at the bleeding prick on the ground. “Off the boardwalk. All of you! Now!”

David was beaming with pride as Taika walked to him and Dwayne, wiping the surfers’ blood from her lip. The surfers backed from the bikers as they walked forwards, parting away from them to avoid Taika who walked in front, acting as an active threat to anyone who dared to even think about opposing them. When the five were clear of the crowd, Paul looped his arms around Taika and pulled her in for a smacking kiss. “That was awesome babe. Like, so fucking awesome.”

She burst into laughter, dropping her head onto his chest.

“Hell yeah it was,” added Marko, yanking her to him and spinning her like they were dancing. “I’m like two-hundred percent sure that guy pissed himself!”

Marko and Paul exchanged a highly energetic high-five, feeling the energy of the fight reigniting itself. Dwayne silently pulled her into him and kissed her forehead.

“Good to know you care, kitten,”at David’s words she beamed. Dwayne released her, and she bounced towards David, latching onto the lapels of his jacket. “I hope you know that I would do anything for you,” her sultry accent sent a delighted chill down his back. “All of you,” she sang, letting go of David’s jacket and spinning into Paul and Marko’s arms giggling like a school girl. From within the blond vampire sandwich, she raised her hand in the air to make a point. “Now, let’s go find my bike!”

The car belonging to the surfer who’d stolen Taika’s bike was found strung up in a junkyard the next day. The sight had been stupendous apparently, and ended up on the news. The owner of the car and his friends had a been absolutely delicious. After he’d returned Taika’s bike of course.

[bloody-bee-tea]

This feels a lot like home

Soooo, can we all just pretend you didn’t hear me say that I would only delve into this OT3 once I finished all the prompts in my inbox? Because they are very much not finished and I don’t like to make a fool out of myself. So let’s just concentrate on the good things, mainly: New OT3! More Words! Excitement!

(Also I feel like I should dedicate this to @nikudons because their art gives me life)

Edit: This now has a prequel in Come with us

When he comes down from his orgasm, Jiang Cheng falls into the bed, still panting for breath.

This might have actually been the best sex of his life, and of course it would come at the hands of Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Of fucking course. Because that’s just what his life is now, apparently.

Jiang Cheng has to admit that he might have been a tiny bit infatuated with them for longer than he dares to admit, and to even get this out of it is already more than he ever expected. More than he ever dared to hope for.

He was ready for some hateful words and a break of their friendship, if he’s being honest.

Not them putting the moves on him at Mo Xuanyu’s party.

Nie Mingjue reaches out for him, and pulls him into the middle again, and even though it’s kind of icky with all of them being sweaty and sticky, it’s also a very comfortable position to be in.

Jiang Cheng tries to not dwell on that for too long, because he knows what a one-night stand is, thank you very much, and so he’s just waiting for them to get up and leave.

“You’re so beautiful, A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue mutters as he pulls Jiang Cheng closer with an arm around his hips and Jiang Cheng is too weak to push away from him.

Jiang Cheng wants to protest, because he’s not, but then Lan Xichen tilts his head back with a finger to his chin and silences him with a toe-curling kiss.

“Don’t even argue the point, you can’t win against Mingjue,” he softly tells him as he nips at Jiang Cheng’s lower lip. “Especially not when he’s right.”

Jiang Cheng glares at him, but Lan Xichen only chuckles softly and then Nie Mingjue tugs on his shoulder again.

Jiang Cheng settles down like Nie Mingjue clearly wants him to, with his head on his shoulder and basically draped over Nie Mingjue. Before his back has time to go cold, Lan Xichen presses close, molds himself against Jiang Cheng’s back and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Jiang Cheng is still sore and kind of oversensitive but it’s clear that they are staying for a round two and so he presses his ass back, despite the fact that it’s almost unpleasant.

But Lan Xichen puts a hand on his hip to still his movements and Nie Mingjue brushes his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Sleep, A-Cheng,” he mumbles.

Ah, so they want a second round later. Jiang Cheng can only hope that they wake him up for that, because he’s drifting off already.

It doesn’t help that Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue start to softly talk over him. Jiang Cheng is too tired to listen to the words, but the comfort of the voices washing over him is enough to immediately lull him to sleep.

~*~*~

When he wakes up it’s already light out. He frowns, because he thought Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue would stay for a round two and not steal away in the night like thieves, but really, what did he expect.

He turns around with a sigh only to freeze when Lan Xichen smiles at him.

“Good morning, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen says and reaches out to push a few stray hairs behind Jiang Cheng’s ear and then he leans in as if to kiss him.

Jiang Cheng jerks back, because he must have morning breath, and surely this will not be appreciated, but Lan Xichen pulls him close, clearly uncaring of that.

It starts out as a soft brush of lips, but soon enough Lan Xichen deepens the kiss and Jiang Cheng is helpless against it.

Jiang Cheng is almost ashamed to admit that the kiss leaves him half-hard already.

“Nie Mingjue?” he mumbles once he found his voice again and Lan Xichen wriggles close, wraps himself around Jiang Cheng’s arm and puts his head in the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“Making breakfast,” Lan Xichen tells him and now that Jiang Cheng is listening for it, he can hear someone work in his kitchen.

He can’t believe they stayed. He can’t believe they want to have breakfast with him.

“Xichen?” he softly says and is met with a sleepy “Mhh?”

“What—what is this?” he asks after a bit of hesitation, because he’s not sure he’s ready to hear that this still doesn’t mean anything more than some no strings attached sex.

“Wait for Mingjue,” Lan Xichen mutters back and then snuggles in even closer.

He’s almost painfully clinging to Jiang Cheng’s arm and he can already feel his fingers go numb from it, but he doesn’t move and he doesn’t tell Lan Xichen to let go of him.

It’s what he always wanted. He won’t be the one to put an end to this. He will take everything he can get.

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue long to show up with a tablet filled with food, coffee and tea. His face goes all soft when he sees Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen curled up like this and a knot of worry eases in Jiang Cheng’s chest.

It’s one thing to have a threesome. It’s another to see his partner snuggle with another man after the fact.

But Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem angry; quite the opposite actually and Jiang Cheng flushes when Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

The tablet is put down next to the bed and Nie Mingjue slides under the covers to snuggle up to Jiang Cheng’s other side.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s hair.

“Morning,” Jiang Cheng gives back and then huffs out a laugh when Lan Xichen only hums.

“Do you still feel your arm?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng regretfully shakes his head. “Don’t let him snuggle you to death,” Nie Mingjue warns him and then narrows his eyes. “I can show you a trick on how you get to move him,” he then offers and raises his arm as if he wants to punch Lan Xichen on the shoulder, but Jiang Cheng is quick to stop his hand.

“Don’t,” he lowly says. “I do enjoy this,” he then adds, even though it makes his face go hot again.

“Mingjue,” Lan Xichen suddenly says and Jiang Cheng honestly thought he fell back asleep. “What is this?” he asks and Jiang Cheng goes cold with nerves at that.

“What?” Nie Mingjue says with confusion and Lan Xichen blinks an eye up at him, but not without pressing a kiss to the underside of Jiang Cheng’s jaw.

“Wanyin wants to know what this is,” he clarifies and understanding lights up Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Ah,” he says, and wriggles his arm under Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen, so that he can pull them both close. “You see, A-Cheng, we have tried the soft approach,” he says, and that makes no sense at all, so Jiang Cheng scowls at him.

Nie Mingjue takes the opportunity to lean forward and kiss the scowl right off his face and he only goes on when Jiang Cheng goes pliant against him again.

“We tried flirting, and we tried leaving hints, but you weren’t very receptive of those,” he explains, “so we decided to take this route.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng lowly says, a sinking feeling in his stomach, because of course.

Of course they just want sex.

“Not what you think,” Lan Xichen chimes in and he pushes himself up so he can look Jiang Cheng in the eyes for his next words. “We want you, in a relationship with us,” he says, words clearly pronounced so that there can be no misunderstanding. “And this was the easiest way to get an in with you.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, because now that he knows it, he can see how they were trying to flirt with him.

“And you really shouldn’t expect us to leave again,” Nie Mingjue adds and slides them all further down in the bed, so he can pull the blanket up over all of them again.

Jiang Cheng feels a little bit like his brain got broken, but it doesn’t matter much when both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen press a kiss to either side of his face.

When they remember breakfast, it’s long gone cold.

~*~*~

True to their word, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue don’t really leave after that night. Jiang Cheng’s phone is blowing up with notifications, because as soon as they left that day they added him to a group chat and while a small part of Jiang Cheng still expects them to only want sex from him, the topics in the chat stay surprisingly safe for work.

They chat about their days and what annoyed them and Jiang Cheng is delighted to find out that Nie Mingjue loves to share pictures of all the animals he saw that day.

It’s—sweet in a way Jiang Cheng didn’t really expect but couldn’t be happier about.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue meet up with him on several days a week, sometimes all three of them, and sometimes it’s just two, but it never seems to matter to either of them, as long as they get to see him.

Jiang Cheng is convinced he sees them more than his siblings at this point, not that he’s complaining.

They become somewhat of a fixture in his apartment too, so much so in fact that Jiang Cheng keeps wondering if they just don’t like their own home, but he’s not going to bring it up. He still sometimes feels like he’s trading on thin ice here, though those moments get fewer and far in between. Still, no reason to provoke something.

“And then Su She had the audacity to ask for a meeting with me,” Jiang Cheng hears Lan Xichen say as he tunes back in, and he realizes that he might have spaced out for longer than normal.

He still smiles at Lan Xichen and hopes that it wasn’t too noticeable, but of course Lan Xichen points an accusing spoon at him.

Jiang Cheng blinks when the full picture suddenly hits him; Lan Xichen, in his kitchen wearing an apron he brought over from his own apartment and preparing food for the three of them, because Nie Mingjue is due to come home to them any time now.

“You didn’t even listen,” Lan Xichen accuses him and he seems honestly affronted at that. “Here I am, relaying my troubles to you, and you don’t even listen!”

“Xichen, what are we doing?” Jiang Cheng asks and Lan Xichen blinks at him before he looks down at his apron and then back to the sizzling sauce on the stove.

“I’m making dinner? I’m not sure what you’re doing, to be honest,” Lan Xichen teasingly says but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No, I mean—,” he gets interrupted when the door opens and Nie Mingjue comes home.

They hear him put away his shoes and bag and then he comes into the kitchen, almost silent on his socks.

“Hello, my loves,” he says and he greets first Jiang Cheng with a soft kiss, before he tugs Lan Xichen close to give him one as well.

It hits Jiang Cheng then that they both have keys to his apartment, that they both stay here more often than not, that they have enough things here to spend several days in a row in his apartment.

“Oh,” he breathes out and effectively gets Lan Xichen’s and Nie Mingjue’s attention with that.

“What ‘oh’?” Nie Mingjue asks, but Lan Xichen narrows his eyes at him.

“Jiang Cheng, please tell me you did not only realize now that all three of us are in a committed relationship,” he icily says and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Mingjue accusingly says and Jiang Cheng helplessly shrugs.

“Excuse me for being a bit confused about this,” he almost shouts at them and both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen stare at him.

“What part has you confused?” Lan Xichen then carefully asks and Jiang Cheng gets up to pace the length of the kitchen.

“Maybe the part where this started as a one-night stand? Or maybe the part where you have a very loving relationship and shouldn’t even be looking at someone like me? But definitely the part where I don’t just get the things I want?”

“Oh my heart,” Lan Xichen softly sighs and Nie Mingjue is quick to pull Jiang Cheng close so they can both embrace him.

“We told you we’ve been trying this for longer,” Nie Mingjue says. “It was never juts a one-night stand for us, A-Cheng. We’re in love with you and we always knew we wanted you in our relationship.”

Jiang Cheng is so overwhelmed by his feelings that he has to hide his face in Lan Xichen’s chest. He realizes his mistake when that leaves his neck open to be kissed by Nie Mingjue, sending shudders down his back.

“Why won’t you believe us?” Lan Xichen mutters and winds his arms around Jiang Cheng’s middle, pulling him close and nosing at his temple. “Why can’t you believe that we simply love you?”

There are a lot of things Jiang Cheng could say to that, first and foremost how no one cared to love him like this before, but he stays quiet and presses closer to Lan Xichen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into his chest and Nie Mingjue drops another kiss to his neck.

“Don’t be, A-Cheng. Just believe us when we tell you, okay?”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng breathes out.

“I love you,” Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue say in unison and Jiang Cheng laughs wetly at that.

“I love you two,” he gives back, because he does, so much, and then frowns when something smells like it’s burning. “Xichen, your sauce,” he says in a rush and Lan Xichen swears as he untangles himself from Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng to see if there is anything left he can save.

Nie Mingjue chuckles but he also pulls Jiang Chang back to his chest and doesn’t let him leave.

“Ask us if you’re unsure or if you have doubts, please,” he lowly tells him and Jiang Cheng rests his hands on Nie Mingjue’s arm around his middle.

“I will,” he promises, because maybe there is no reason at all for him to doubt this like he did.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then Jiang Cheng settles more of his weight against him so they can watch Lan Xichen frantically trying to save their dinner.

It feels a lot like home.

[bowtied-pasta]

Party Time

This might turn into a future chapter in one of my fics, im not sure yet. 😅 Anyway! This is a Splendor and True thing, once again. Finley and Damien are mentioned, but Gage plays a bigger part. Dark and Delta are also mentioned, as well as Ben very breifly. Enjoy! 💗

True’s head popped off her pillow when she heard the bumping bass of music kick up from somewhere in the mansion. Splendor was away for a meeting of some kind, having not taken any of them with him for professional purposes, or something along those lines. The music was definitely the party kind though. The kind that got your body moving and you would expect kids in high school to grind on each other to at prom.

That being said, she didn’t know they were allowed to throw parties. It had been a long time since she’d had the privilege of attending one though, so she was curious to see if that was actually what was going on.

Opening her door, the music playing became a little clearer, Bottoms Up by Trey. Her footsteps unable to be heard over the bump of the base that had no business being that loud, she made it to the top of the staircase just as Nicki’s rap began.

Her jaw fell open at what she saw. The entire entrance hall floor was covered in small circles with odd symbols written inside of them. She knew those well. Summoning circles. It seemed a few stragglers were late to answer their calls though, as she watched them pop in from seemingly nowhere and then make their way toward where she knew one of the bigger rooms were. Now she knew the purpose of the room. It was for parties.

Finley appeared from the direction of what True now dubbed the ballroom, walking with authority she knew she had, but not over beings that she didn’t control. She seemed to take in all the circles that had been drawn, huffing as she glanced around the room, freezing when her eyes landed on True. “True, please tell me there aren’t any circles up there.”

True pulled away from the banister for a moment, glancing around for anything she might have missed before shaking her head down at the proxy. Watching her sigh in relief before stiffening as Gage spoke up.

“True!?” She watched him run in, taken a back by the stuff he was wearing. His clothing was perfectly normal, but the guy had somehow glued small glow sticks to his face, they didn’t seem to hinder his speech at all. “True! Get down here, it’s party time. You told me you hadn’t had one in a long time, and I think you’re way over due!”

She sighed, smiling to herself as she walked down the stairs. Laughing a bit at Gage and his chaotically good intentions behind his chaotically crazy actions.

“You didn’t tell me it was for her.” Finley shot at him, arms crossed as she finally seemed to relax a little.

“You didn’t ask, babe. Besides, who’s to say we can’t have a party every now and then?” He shot her a wink as he grabbed True’s arm once she was in reach, dragging her towards the ballroom and away from the troubled ginger, not letting her try and sway True into not participating in what he had planned.

Her eyes quickly took in everything that had been set up. Lights, tables, chairs, food and music. There was no way Gage set this up all by himself, but she didn’t really get a whole lot of time to think about the strategy of setting something like this up. Gage walks her to a corner of the room with a group of what she assumes to be demons, she couldn’t be sure because most of the things that had been summoned quickly took up a glamour as soon as they walked in. The only thing she knew for sure is that they were busy passing around more than just a few blunts, one of them was busy setting up a few bongs. Of course, Gage had dragged her right to the stoners.

“Dark, it’s been a while, glad you and your mate could make it. Should we be expecting Ben too?” He nudged a dark elf looking man with his foot, his glowing red eyes taking in who was talking to him before he said anything.

“Oh, Gage! It has been a while. Yeah, Ben might pop in here soon. I just shot him the message a minute or two ago.” Dark wrapped an arm over the shoulder of the person sitting next to him. Seemingly a girl with brown hair and a red hoodie, her legs thrown over his own as she puffed out in his face. He chuckled as he took a moment to lock eyes and breath it in. “Delta couldn’t resist when I told them there was probably gonna be weed and food. You know how it is.”

Gage laughed as he took an empty seat next to Dark and patted the chair next to him for True to take. She took a moment though, this not being the normal crowd that she usually hung out with, but knew how to not be a total fuck up.

Dark looked her over for a moment, detached interest in her apparent as he took a hit of his own blunt. “So, you add a forth one to your polycule or is this just another proxy?”

Gage laughed a bit, pausing his retrieval of a couple blunts from the center table to wave a hand in dismissal toward Dark. “Neither man, Dots couldn’t make her a proxy if he tried. Way too.... well, its not place to say why or why not she can’t be a proxy.” He cast a nervous glance toward True before continuing. “But were happy as a triangle, and I think Fin would have a heart attack if she had even a single other person to worry about.”

Dark’s gaze narrowed at Gage as he avoided giving him an exact reason for True’s inability to be hired. Glancing between the two before he seemed to smirk a bit and nod. “Yeah, Finley is a bit uptight, but all spitfires have their charm.” He squeezed his mate with his free arm. “And you know, in a room full of people like this... maybe try and keep the stuff about Dots and his reasonings to yourself, yeah?”

Gage sighed as he lit a blunt and passed it to True. “Yeah, I know. But my guest list was incredibly difficult to put together, you would not believe how difficult some of these guys make their circles to draw. The audacity to have a difficult phone number. I wouldn’t have invited them if I thought any of them meant harm. You know me.”

He lit his own blunt as Dark nodded, his hand making its way to card through his apparently sleepy mates hair. Their head having nestled into his neck and their arms wrapped around his shoulders as they got comfortable. “Yeah, but I’ve seen a few that are questionable. I’m sure Finley and Damien are being diligent though. You proxies always seem to be good at that, no matter who’s you are.”

Gage shrugged as he took a few puffs, glancing over at True before doing a double take. “True, you do know your supposed to smoke that, right?”

She looked between him and the blunt, contemplating embarrassing herself even further or admitting she hadn’t ever smoked before. “Uh... well, I’ve never smoked weed before so, I’m not sure-“

“Say no more, I got you. I’ll make sure you don’t get out of hand. I’ve done this before and I promise you’ll be fine.” They locked eyes for a second, her trust in him winning out as she sighed and raised the blunt to her lips. Not unfamiliar with the burn that followed, reminding her of when Tim would show random acts of kindness after hard missions and spare her a cig or two, but she still coughed a bit as she hadn’t done it in quite some time.

“There you go, already almost a natural. I’ll have you high in no time.” Gage patted her leg reassuringly, tossing a friendly arm over her shoulder as they chatted and waited for this Ben person they had mentioned before to show up.

Of course, this being her first time smoking weed, she succumbed to it’s effects much quicker than Gage did. Her head titled backwards, her eyes glazed and unfocused, taking in the way the lights moved on the ceiling above her. She didn’t resist when the bong was passed around the circle once, twice, three times. She lost track of how much she smoked, but Gage kept his promise. She didn’t even remember getting walked out of the ballroom and taken to a little alcove with a fireplace, she didn’t remember being sat down or being given a blanket, and she didn’t remember how long she sat there staring at the fire place either. The entrancing movement of the flames keeping her captive as they swirled before her, her thoughts edging on dangerous territory as she had the sudden urge to attempt to lick them, but the chain gate in front of it prevented her from doing so.

“True? What are you doing down here?” Her blurred attention was caught by a voice that spoke up from behind her, making her turn her head slowly to see who could have possibly found her in such an odd place. Finding Splendor there, a worried look on his face as he took in her appearance. “Oh my, True. How high are you?”

She giggled and made grabby hands toward him. “Splendor! You’re home! Its hi how are you, you beautiful silly man. Now c’mere.” A dopy smile on her face as she waited to be picked up by the tall man.

She heard him sigh before she felt his tendrils wrap around her and lift her, making her giggle a bit more before he wrapped his arms around her. Walking her out of the room as she watched the ceiling design change, her attention taken entirely by her moving background. “You know, I really need to go home.”

“Oh? Why is that True? Where is home?”

“Home is with Splendor, duh. He lets me live there, with him and his proxies. Damien, Finley and Gage... Gage is a crackhead though. He got me soooo high. Uuuggh.”

She felt the person carrying her laugh, making her laugh too. She didn’t know what was so funny about what she said, but his laugh made her laugh. It reminded her of him. “True, why do you need to go home?”

She hummed as images of him shot through her smoke filled brain, a small smile lifting the edges of her lips. “I still need to tell him.”

She felt the strangers pace change a bit, she was pretty sure she was on some kind of staircase, but she couldn’t be sure. The ceiling getting closer to her not even being registered as a possibility in her mind. “Tell who what?”

She nuzzled into the strangers warm embrace as she felt sleep come up on her, way too tired to care much for paying attention to anything anymore. “I still need to tell Splendor how I feel about him. Its very important to me, I’m just not great at telling people about... feelings... and shit..... I don’t feel too good right now. Can I sleep please?”

The stranger was silent for a moment before responding, his arms wrapping a bit tighter around her as he continued walking her towards wherever their destination was. “Yes, you can sleep now.”

Her eyes drifted shut and didn’t open when she felt soft fabric seem to envelope her in a warm embrace. The last thing she heard before drifting to sleep was the stranger, blankets tucked over her at the same time. “Sweet dreams, Schatz.”

[teatitty]

Jailhouse Rock

A/N: Hey remember when I said I wanted to write a traditional fantasy AU with Patrochilles and DiarCu? This is based in that. I hate copy-pasting things to tumblr bc it never keeps my italics and I’m too lazy to edit this so here it is on AO3 as well

Days of peace were rare for Patroclus; even rarer still were the days without Achilles or Cu Chulainn around to stir up mischief. On his own, Patroclus liked to think he was a perfect example of good behaviour and that his own troublemaking was nothing more than a direct result of knowing two of the biggest arseholes this side of the continent, but whenever he voiced such a thing out loud, the response from his companions was always an intense roll of the eyes and a bark of laughter, so maybe he was just lying to himself.

Given his current predicament, that certainly seemed to be the case. In retrospect, he should’ve figured he’d end up getting arrested one of these days, but when you spend most of your time in the company of two people who somehow - consistently - manage to get themselves out of trouble, well, you sort of forget that consequences for your actions are a thing you need to worry about.

In his own defense, he hadn’t planned on getting arrested. It isn’t much of a defense, because he cannot recall a single person who has ever wanted to get thrown into a jail cell with shackles on their wrists (it didn’t matter that his own had been taken off earlier, it mattered that they’d bothered to put any on him in the first place), but he also hasn’t met every single person on the planet, so he supposes the defense counts for something.

He wonders who Achilles will be angrier at when he finds out about this; Patroclus, for punching the stupid fucking Guard in the face and breaking his pompous nose, or the Guard himself, for calling re-inforcements and manhandling Patroclus into this dingy, damp little cell. It’s not a matter of if Achilles will find out, so much as when he finds out, and Patroclus can only hope it’s soon, because he’s only been in here for a few hours and he’s already bored out of his god-damned mind.

The Guards posted outside of his cell won’t even talk to him. It’s extremely rude, in his opinion, not to entertain a guest when they’re groaning pitifully on the floor, even if said groaning was mostly due to the head pain. He really needs to learn the name of the Guard who clonked him. Bastard had a real mean arm and Patroclus itches to get some sort of revenge for the hit.

Alas, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be getting that information anytime soon. He’ll just have to track the guy down once he gets sprung from this place and then clonk them from behind and see how they like it.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if you ask me, I did you all a favour. I mean, he just has one of those voices, you know? The really annoying ones? The ones that just invite you to hit someone?” Nothing. Typical. Patroclus sighs up at the ceiling with exaggerated effort. “I love our little talks. Can’t get enough of them, truly.”

Maybe, if he talks long enough, one of them will actually tell him to shut up instead of just trying to glare holes into him through their helmets. Patroclus snorts at the thought. If that worked, then Achilles would’ve been dead a hundred times over by now. Or just covered in a lot more scars than he already has. Which is none. Obviously. Ugh, he really needs to get better company.

As if the Gods themselves heard his plea and were, for once in their lives, actually offering to help him, a commotion from the halls causes him to sit up with immense interest, and the Guards by his cell close their eyes and actually groan.

Whoever is being led - in chains? Sounds like it - down the hall, everyone clearly knows them, because even the other prisoners, who’ve been silent until now, start murmuring curses to themselves.

Finally, Patroclus thinks, some variety.

“ - I just think that in the grand scheme of things - and purely for everyone else’s interest, of course - that stealing a few rings from the locals isn’t that big of a deal when I’m just going to be selling them later. I’m helping the economy! Helping you pass money from one hand to another and get it circulating. How’s your wife, by the way, is she still getting the bad cramps? Of course she is. I can see it in your face. You really should take my advice and -”

“Diarmuid.” A Guard has never sounded so long-suffering before.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and get in the damn cell.”

Surprisingly enough, with a huge stroke of good fortune, the cell that this blessing in disguise - Diarmuid, his name is Diarmuid, Patroclus reminds himself. He’s never been very good at names - is dancing his way into, happens to be Patroclus’ very own, and he finds himself looking at a man who is decidedly, one hundred percent, not human at all.

Patroclus grins, absolutely delighted by this turn of events. Diarmuid, noticing that he is not alone in this cell, cocks his head to the side and just sort of. Stands there. Presumably blinking at him, but it’s hard to tell behind the tinted glasses perched on his nose. “Oh my gods,” Patroclus says before he can stop himself, “are you an elf?”

“No,” replies Diarmuid slowly. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“He’s a menace,” one of the Guards mutters and Patroclus’ grin only widens.

“I knew you could talk,” he tells them and then to Diarmuid he says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to say something.”

“Oh,” Diarmuid says, “I’m not hallucinating then.”

“Not used to having company?”

“Not usually.”

He looks - well, if Patroclus had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Diarmuid looks completely out of his depth. “Don’t worry,” Patroclus tells him. “I don’t bite.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. He doesn’t bite usually but all bets are off when tavern brawls happen.

Diarmuid’s nose wrinkles. “Is that a hickey?”

It is, actually, though it’s a wonder he can see it at all amidst the other bruising. “I don’t bite,” Patroclus repeats, “but my boyfriend’s a bit of a dick.”

Something in Diarmuid’s posture relaxes at that admission, which is very interesting, and Patroclus pats the spot beside himself invitingly. He’s actually surprised when Diarmuid sits next to him. He’s less surprised that there’s an obvious gap being kept between them and that, unlike himself, Diarmuid’s posture remains straight and alert.

“Soooo…” Patroclus starts, “what are you in for?”

“That’s the best you could do, huh?”

Oh, a snarky one is he? Good thing Patroclus is used to that, or he might actually find this guy irritating. “What do you want me to start with, then? The fact that you’re apparently a regular visitor here? That you probably know everyone’s first names and family histories?”

“I wish he didn’t,” mutters the other Guard forlornly.

“Shut up,” hisses the first one, “don’t encourage them.”

“Too late for that,” they say in unison. The Guards curse.

There’s a long beat of silence as Patroclus waits to see if Diarmuid will reply to his earlier question. His patience pays off when, finally, Diarmuid sighs and says, “I got caught selling stolen goods for twice the profit.”

Patroclus whistles. “Impressive.” He means it. Sure, he got caught doing it, but the fact he had the balls to try at all - and, by the sounds of it, actually managed to make some of said profit - is worth applauding.

“And you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Broke someone’s nose.”

“Holy shit,” Diarmuid breathes, “you’re the guy who finally shut Claudius’ trap up?”

“His name is Claudius?” A nod. “No wonder he’s such a dick, then. Hey! Tell your boss that I don’t regret what I did, alright? With a name like that, he had it coming to him!”

“You’re going to get a longer sentence if you do that.” Diarmuid sounds amused as anything. Patroclus grins back at him. He wonders how long Diarmuid’s sentence is and how many times he’s gotten his way out of it.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

“Because of your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucky,” Diarmuid whines. “I have to rely on my natural charm, and here you are getting Out Of Jail cards for free.”

They’re only ‘free’ if you don’t count the cost on Patroclus’ brain cell capacity, because for all that he loves Achilles with his entire soul, his boyfriend is, in fact, an idiot, and this has only seemed to get worse since they met Cu Chulainn a few years back. How does that saying go again? ‘Birds of a feather flock together?’

What does it say about him that he’s part of this flock? Nothing good, probably, so best not to think too much about it.

“Are you a vampire?”

“Okay, now you’re just naming every creature with pointy ears.”

Patroclus slumps down in his seat. “I don’t have much else to go on.” And it doesn’t look like Diarmuid is going to willingly give him any hints. “A dragonborn, maybe?”

Alright, maybe that one's a little bit of a deep cut, given how rare they are these days, but, hey, if he’s going for every race with pointed ears then…

“Also,” he continues, “you’re not a ‘creature’ you’re just a different race to a human.”

“Flattering,” Diarmuid says dryly. Patroclus doesn’t really get how any of that is ‘flattering’ in any way, shape or form but then what does he know? He’s human, after all, so maybe he really has just said something that - whatever. Doesn’t matter. He’s making friends! Cu will be so proud of him.

Does he have a concussion? Probably. None of his thoughts are making any sense today.

“I’m not a dragonborn.”

Okay, strike two off the list.

“Or a vampire.”

Strike three.

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t just relying on ‘ears pointy’ because that...really doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot. Are there really that many races with pointed ears? How has he never noticed this before? “You sure you’re not an elf? Or, like, elf adjacent?”

“If you were anyone else,” says Diarmuid, “I would’ve hit you for that. Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure you’re just a mouthy moron like I am, so congrats on saving your own skin, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” he grins.

Diarmuid snorts. Progress is being made. Fuck yeah. “You’re not used to being in a cell, are you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“First time?”

Oh now that’s just too easy a line to pass up. “Being in the company of a gorgeous man like yourself?” His lashes flutter and Diarmuid actually looks a little bit bewildered. “Hardly.”

“You...have a boyfriend.”

Astute of him.

“I do,” he agrees. “We have a comfortable and confident relationship.” By which he means that they’re allowed to flirt with whoever they want, whenever they want, it’s just dating and sex that are off limits until further discussion. Diarmuid - doesn’t really seem to get what he means. Which. Okay then. “Flirting is fine,” he clarifies with an easy tone.

“Oh.”

He still sounds a bit miffed by the whole thing so, in an effort to bring them back to their earlier comfort levels, Patroclus says, “lets play a game.”

Diarmuid stares at him. “A game,” he repeats.

“Just something to pass the time.”

“Am I going crazy or are you always like this?”

“It’s just me.” He feels no embarrassment in admitting it either. His mouth often moves faster than his brain can catch up, or his brain will move faster than his mouth, and rarely do they ever operate at the same capacity as each other. He forgets that not everyone can keep up with his rapid changes in conversation. Achilles’ mother is the only one who can understand him all of the time, but she’s back home in her river, so he has to - make an effort to slow down a little bit here.

How annoying.

“Ever heard of 21 Questions?”

The silence continues for long enough this time that Patroclus is almost completely certain he’s just gotten rejected. Diarmuid sighs. “Sure. I reserve the right to refuse answering anything personal, though.”

For all his earlier chatter, he’s surprisingly guarded and private. This, along with his keeping his own race a secret, intrigues Patroclus a lot more than it should. There’s a dull and distant warning bell ringing in his head; caution, it screeches, CAUTION.

“I reserve the same thing, then.”

Diarmuid blows some hair out of his face and, presumably, rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. His lip twitches into a smile. Generously, Patroclus lets him go first. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, startled, and then laughs. “Oh I’m such an idiot,” he says and then holds out his hand. Diarmuid is wearing leather gloves under his shackles. Interesting. “It’s Patroclus. Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip is a little firmer than Patroclus expected but nowhere near the strength of Cu Chulainn’s. Which is a bit of an unfair comparison considering Cu’s specific bloodline but. Well. He doesn’t have a whole lot of non-human references to go on. Diarmuid holds himself as though he’s waiting to get shanked in the gut and Patroclus, ever so politely, asks, “what’s your favourite drink?”

Diarmuid blinks. “What?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger. “Not your turn to ask a question.”

“...tequila,” Diarmuid says at last.

“Oh that’s strong! I thought you might be an ale drinker, what with all the leathers and the -” he gestures to the window of the cell, hoping to encompass the city as a whole.

“Ah,” says Diarmuid. “Ale’s too bitter for me.”

“And tequila isn’t?”

His lip quirks. “Not your turn.”

“Right you are! Continue, then.”

“Who's your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Achilles.”

Diarmuid promptly chokes, as do the Guards outside. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean - you can’t mean -”

Patroclus inclines his head, delighted by the reaction. Achilles is famous here! Who knew!

“Holy shit.” Diarmuid’s voice raises a few octaves. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I doubt it,” says Patroclus dryly. “He’s more likely to whine about me getting better prison company than he did.”

“I’m not talking about Achilles,” hisses Diarmuid. “I’m talking about Cu Chulainn!”

Wait.

Wait a second.

Patroclus takes a step back to examine the man before him. Dark, curly hair? Check. A penchant for getting arrested? From what he can gather, check. Pointy ears? Absolutely. And -

He leans closer to try and get a whiff of whatever scent Diarmuid carries.

-- the distinct smell of a winter breeze.

A lot of different things fall into place at once.

“You’re the friend that Cu’s been looking for. The one that lost his favourite jacket.”

“I’m dead,” says Diarmuid. “I’ve been trying to get it back for him and now I’m going to die before I get the chance.”

“Is that why you were selling stolen goods?”

Reluctantly, Diarmuid nods. “I know where it is,” he admits mulishly. “I just don’t have the money to buy it back.”

Patroclus thinks this over. He doesn’t have any money either. Fuck it, he thinks, we’re already criminals anyway.

“Okay,” he says. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll help you get it back.”

“Don’t even try it,” warns Guard number one.

Diarmuid gives Patroclus a pathetically hopeful look. “You will?”

“Yes. On the condition,” he continues, “that you return it to him in person.”

“You know where he is.”

“I know where he is.”

Diarmuid considers this for all of two seconds. “Deal.”

And then he slips out of his shackles and shatters the fucking window with them.

[aewriting]

I forget where I saw someone say that their Roswell NM OTP is every main character ​and a good therapist, ha (edited to add - it was @soberqueerinthewild, THANK YOU!) but it’s soooo true, and it got me thinking. Full disclosure - Malex is my end game. I hope they get it together. But once they do, they have so, so much trauma and hurt and issues between the two of them that to have a real, healthy relationship it would take a lot of work. And so this little fic was born.

Warning for relationship strife.

(Also edited to now include a "keep reading" option, which I had NO earthly idea how to put in last night on the tumblr mobile app, ha)

Here’s the AO3 link, if you prefer.

***

Michael stumbles out of the bedroom bleary-eyed, out of sorts.

Trepidatious.

The tension eases, slightly, when he smells the coffee, freshly ground.

He hasn’t left.

Not, not that he thinks he would, really, not that he has for years, now, but he can’t help it if that’s where his mind still goes.

Prosthetic’s not on, and he’s moving stiffly, with the crutches. Michael feels a pang of guilt, then anger. It’s Alex’s own damn fault, stubborn ass that he is. Wouldn’t sleep in the damn bed with Michael, and wouldn’t let Michael take the couch. So yeah, he’s probably feeling it this morning. Boo fucking hoo. Maybe next time he’ll just give in...

Michael should have never let him sleep on the couch.

Should have, could have locked him in the damn bedroom.

Michael knows he can hear him - Alex is always hyperaware of shit like that. He probably heard him the instant his feet hit the floor. So it’s frustrating as hell that he’s made no move to turn toward Michael yet, that there’s been no acknowledgement of his presence.

“Hey,” Michael finally says. Loud. Probably obnoxious. He’s wearing only his boxer briefs (nice ones, an Alex purchase last Christmas), and god dammit he’s gonna use that, knows it’s always been one of the best weapons he’s had against Alex and his moods. He ambles over to the kitchen, overly loose. Casual. Leans back, hands on the counter, body on display.

Alex finally eyes him, swallows hard. “Here,” he says, placing a mug of hot black coffee next to Michael’s hand.

The corner of Michael’s mouth quirks up, almost sly. “Thanks.”

“Mmm hmm,” Alex says. He’s still not looking at Michael, not really.

Michael makes a show out of blowing on the coffee, sipping it. He sniffs the air, frowns. “What am I smelling?”

“We had some bananas going bad. I made banana bread. It’s in the oven now.”

Michael’s frown deepens. “How long you been up?”

A shrug. “A while.”

And Michael can’t help it. “Guess the couch wasn’t too comfortable, then?” He sees the slight shake of Alex’s head, the eye roll. Then the guilt comes back, full force. “Look, I’m sorry. About last night. I should have texted.”

Alex is still just looking down at his own coffee cup, face tense.

Michael heaves a sigh and pushes himself off the counter. Approaches Alex from behind, finds him overly stiff when he finally touches him. “I’m sorry, okay? Real sorry.” Skims his hands down Alex’s arms, to his hips, his thighs. “Come to bed and I’ll show you just how sorry.”

And normally, that would do the trick. Alex would fix Michael with one of those dark, intense looks of his, or maybe roll his eyes, even - bite back a smile. The sex was always good like that, too - a little wild, dirty. An edge to it.

This morning, though, Alex exhales. Shrugs off Michael’s touch. “I...” he starts. Then, “No.”

Michael’s eyes widen and he stumbles back, chastened. Scared, honestly. Because in all the time they’ve lived together, he doesn’t think Alex has ever turned him down, not quite like this.

He suddenly feels overexposed, shrinks back. Alex is wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt. Michael wishes he would have pulled something on before coming out of the bedroom.

And he’s pragmatic. Cause he’s had to be. Already thinking about next steps, the Airstream. Isobel’s got a condo now, a nice one - same developer that did Kyle’s, though Isobel’s is nicer, of course... there’s no way her Homeowners Association is gonna let her shady brother park his shitty Airstream in the damn parking lot. He’s saved up some money, though, in these past few years, living with Alex. He’ll, he’ll have more options now than he did at 28, at 17.

He looks at Alex warily, watches him sit down heavily at their little kitchen table. He hangs his head, grips his coffee cup. “Are... are we fooling ourselves?”

“What?” Michael folds his arms in front of himself, like a barrier.

Alex isn’t looking him in the eye. “I just... All those years, when things didn’t work with us, it was so easy to blame all the other shit. The big, external things.”

And shit... this, this might really be it, Michael thinks. He, he’s been waiting for this - like, it was always kind of there in the back of his mind, but it... it maybe, really being here is something different. He tracks Alex’s every expression, every movement with wide-eyed alarm.

“My dad. DADT. Just, like, the military in general. You being,” he exhales shakily, “being an alien. Us seeing other people. And everything with Caulfield, Project Shepherd.”

Alex purses his lips. “But... but it’s just us now. And, and what if that’s the common denominator? Like, what if we’re the problem?” He’s shaking his head, looking stricken. “Dad’s dead, Project Shepherd’s shuttered...”

Michael leans his head back, sighs deeply. “What do you want, Alex? Just, what is this about?” Their eyes finally meet, briefly. “This is more than me forgetting to text.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Alex’s brow is furrowed. “It’s... it’s all the texts, that you’ve forgotten.” Michael open his mouth to protest, but Alex barrels forward. “And it’s all the times I’ve gotten mad about them. It’s the way we fight about stupid shit, like keeping the cabin clean, or what we should do on the weekends.” He bites his lip. “It’s all the times one of us has slept on the couch. All the times I’ve thought you were out with someone else. Someone easier, less complicated. All the times you’ve thought I was leaving.”

He’s rubbing at his neck. “Like, do we really think we can do this?”

Michael’s whole body feels tight, coiled. “Do you?”

Alex’s shoulders slump. “I... I don’t know, honestly.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters, looking away.

“And that’s not to do with you.”

“Bullshit it’s not,” Michael grits out. “Don’t give me this ‘it’s not you it’s me’ bullshit.” He shakes his head. “Not with me.”

“Fine,” Alex says. “But it’s both of us. Like, we’ve been through so much shit, Michael. So much. And the way we grew up...” Alex’s eyes narrow. “You know I don’t know a single couple I’d want to be like? Not a single one where I’m like, wow, that’s a great relationship. Maybe I can have that someday.” He gives a disbelieving little laugh. “Not one! And sure as hell not, not a queer one. Or...” There’s another nearly hysterical little laugh. “Or an interspecies one, for fuck’s sake.”

Michael licks his lips. He’s, he’s grasping for ways to talk Alex down. “Is this about the wedding? Like, second thoughts? Are you, are you not ready?” Michael swallows. “Like, if you need time, I’ll give you time.”

Alex is just staring at him, and Michael starts ticking through the boxes of what else Alex could possibly need, want right now. “Is it, is it the idea of being with, with just me?” And god, he hates what he’s about to say, but he says it. “Cause, cause fuck, Alex, I love you. God knows I, I had years to fuck around. And I know you didn’t get that like I did, with the military and your dad and shit, so if you want that -“

“What the actual fuck, Michael?”

“I, I’m just saying -“

“Have you heard anything I’ve just said?”

And now Michael’s hurt. Offended. “Of course I have.”

“And your first thought was, what, maybe he wants to open this up?” Alex is looking at him, incredulous. “Like, do you?”

“No!” Michael exclaims. “I just, I love you Alex. I, I want you however I can have you.”

“And that’s part of the problem!” Alex says, desperate. “You’re so... so damn self-sacrificing sometimes. And let me just put it out there, for the damn record, you have me. You’ve fucking had me since I was 17, and, and I think I have you, but is that enough?” Alex is hunched over the table now. “Like, I want this to be good for us. Healthy. But, but how can we even know what that looks like?” He shakes his head at Michael. “Like, healthy is not volunteering to have a god damn open relationship at the first sign of trouble. Especially when you don’t even want one, my god.” He blows out a breath. Looks down. At his leg. “And it’s also not, not being a stubborn bastard and ignoring your own health just to stick it to your boyfriend and sleep on the couch.” He curses low, under his breath. “We’re both the problem, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“I...” Michael starts, then stops. Buffy chooses this instant to trot up to him, curl herself against his bare legs, and fuck, he can’t, can’t imagine leaving Alex, leaving her...

“I left a voicemail for Dr. Ling this morning. Told her I want to start up regular sessions again,” Alex says quietly. “And I think, well, it was her suggestion, actually, when I was seeing her before. She said that maybe we should consider couple’s therapy.”

Michael scoffs, at that. Rolls his eyes.

Alex sees, and his jaw tightens. “You know,” he starts. “ I think it’s more than a little - “ he breathes, regroups. “I think it’s telling that you’d sooner suggest that we fuck other people than actually talk to someone about this.”

And fuck if he doesn’t have a point, there.

The truth of it rattles Michael, and he finally sits down across from Alex. Sets the coffee mug on the table, a little too rough. “I don’t want to have to go in there and lie.”

Alex purses his lips. “I... I get that. I know you hate that. But, with this, I think we could still get something out of it. I mean, I have to lie. To Dr. Ling. About you.” He sees Michael’s face. “And I know that’s not the same. It’s definitely not. But, but I think it could help us, Michael. I mean, even if we never even touch the alien stuff, there’s so much else.” He pauses. “And maybe, maybe we could learn. Learn to really talk to each other. So that when we did need to talk, about anything - even the alien stuff, especially the alien stuff - we could.”

And Michael looks at him, really looks. He’s just this side of desperate. Almost pleading, but... but there’s still hope. And the hope does it. Because he wasn’t lying when he said he’d do anything for Alex, and he knows it says something really fucking strange about him that, even after all these years, he’d find it easier to, to take a goddamn hammer for him than to open up like this, in this way. But at his core, he knows he’s right.

He breathes deep and looks right at Alex. “If it’ll keep you off this couch,” he says, pointedly, “then yeah, I’ll go put in my time on a different one.”

And Alex, Alex looks so relieved. Reaches across the table and grasps Michael’s hand with his own, still warm from gripping his coffee mug. “Thank you.”

Michael leans forward, then - cradles Alex’s face with his other hand, and gives him a kiss. A real one. Not urgent. Just... genuine.

And Alex smiles, pulls away and looks down, almost shy.

“What?” Michael asks.

“I, I just...” Alex finally looks at him, quirks an eyebrow. “I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this, this morning, told myself that we were gonna talk, but, well... want to spend a little time on, on our couch, first?”

The invitation is clear, and now it’s Michael’s turn to be relieved.

“Yes.”

[emybain]

Almost

im a sucker for the au where nova’s family lives,,,so here’s another fic that I wrote with no shame. I definitely plan on writing more fics where she’s younger, and I might have to make a masterpost for this au (I also need to update my current masterpost of all my fics bc,,,yikes I haven't updated that in forever.) anyway, here’s a little drabble where adrian’s family comes over for dinner and the two families haven't seen one another in FOREVER and nova hasn't talked to Adrian in a couple months soooo :)) I may have gotten a little angsty but that's not my problem. also yes I definitely played into the stereotypical teenage romance trope and I dont care

.     “I’m home,” Nova called out as she closed the front door behind her. The smell of onions and ginger hung in the air. Nova checked the time on the clock in the living room, setting her bag down beside Papà’s favorite armchair. It was only late afternoon, so she wasn’t hallucinating; her mom was making dinner early. Nova’s family tended to eat much later than the average family, usually in the late evening. According to Papà, that’s how he grew up, so it’s how Nova and her siblings would grow up. Maybe her mom was just cooking now so she wouldn’t have to later; she had done that a few times in the past. Nova shrugged it off. 

    From the kitchen, her mom called out to her in Tagalog, her first language. Another thing that made Nova frown; she rarely spoke in her first language unless it was for a specific reason. After all, English was the only language all five of the Artinos had in common. Nevertheless, Nova answered back in Tagalog to appease her mother, telling her how her day went. When her mom asked about her therapist appointment, though, Nova switched back to English so that her dad, who was probably in the kitchen as well, could understand. 

“Dr. Sterling says hi and that she-”

    Nova had just plopped her car keys down on a side table in the kitchen when she noticed that they had guests over. She faltered, biting back her usual report she would give to her parents following her therapist appointment. So that’s why Mom was speaking in her first language. 

    “No one told me we were having people over tonight.” Nova raised an awkward hand toward the Everhart-Westwood trio, not quite sure if she were speaking to her parents or their guests. Smoothing down her oversized tee shirt, Nova ignored the way her cheeks lit up at her appearance. An old shirt of her dad’s, workout shorts she had been in since her run that morning, and torn up tennis shoes with holes beginning to peak out in the toes. “I would’ve dressed nicer.”

    Hugh was the first to break the awkward silence, chuckling and beckoning Nova forward. She gave him and Simon a one-armed hug. 

    “It was sort of last minute,” Simon explained, looking Nova up and down. “After all, it’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together.” A smile lit up his face. “While I can’t say you’ve grown, you’ve definitely changed, Nova. Every time we see you, you look more and more like your mother.” He was right; it had been a while since the two families had spent time together. Nova hadn’t seen Adrian’s dads in months other than the occasional wave from across a room at headquarters. When she was younger, it seemed as if the two families had more time for one another. It was odd, when she considered it, how close her family was to the Everhart-Westwoods, all because of a series of events that occurred when Nova was no older than six. Her father had gone to the Renegades for protection from Nova’s uncle, and they promised to protect him and his family. After a failed attempt by Nova’s uncle to kill her entire family, they were sent to a temporary home where they would be much safer. Then after Ace Anarchy was defeated, Nova’s father went to work for the Renegades with a vision of making the world a better place. Now, he sat comfortably as head of the weapons department, something Nova knew he wasn’t necessarily proud of, but it brought in a decent amount of money for his family. And besides, the weapons were currently being used for good. At least, that was what her dad said to reassure himself and his family. 

    “Too bad I also got her height,” Nova retorted.

    “Nak, you’re perfect just the way you are,” Mom chided from the stove where she was stirring a pot of what looked like a soup or stew. Nova rolled her eyes, used to her mother lecturing her on her negative view of her appearance. 

    She turned to Adrian to hug him next, as it was expected, despite the sudden skip in her chest. It had been a few months since she had seen much of him or talked to him, both of them being held down by responsibilities and Renegade duties. Ever since they got their own teams a couple years ago, she had noticed how they began drifting apart. It was upsetting because they had been so close when they were young, but what could they do about it? Nova barely had enough time these days for her studies, something her parents were strict on her having. She supposed it was a good thing, seeing as she had developed confusing and distracting feelings for her childhood friend that went beyond friendship. And as her mom liked to say, people would enter and leave her life when she needed them, that they were there or not there for a reason. 

    It was hard not to breathe in or let her eyes fall shot when Nova wrapped both of her arms around Adrian’s shoulders, lifting up on the tips of her toes. She tried not to shiver as he bent down to meet her, arms encircling her waist. Then it was over too soon, and Nova hopped up on the kitchen counter beside where he stood. 

    “Get down from there,” Nova’s dad passed by her with a handful of bowls, swatting at her lightly once he set them down. Sharing a look with Adrian, who bit his lip to hold back his smile, she slid back down. 

    “So, what’s for dinner?” Nova leaned against the counter. 

    Papà opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Nova’s siblings came running through the kitchen, Thomas chasing after Evie with a red face and tears running down his cheeks. 

    “Give it back!” Thomas screeched. He managed to wrap a fist around Evie’s shirt before she ripped it from his grasp, dancing away. “Papà, tell Evie to give my action figure back!”

    Nova saw her father’s face age about ten years as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Evie, give your brother his toy back, please.”

    “He wouldn’t leave me alone!” Evie stuck her tongue out at Thomas. “He kept opening my door and running away laughing, so now his stupid toy is mine.” 

    Nova shifted toward Adrian, who leaned down to listen as she mumbled, “She just got herself into huge trouble, watch.”

    Papà narrowed his eyes at Evie. “Evie Grace Artino, what have we said about closed doors in this house?” 

    Nova elbowed Adrian softly. 

    Evie faltered, her hand that was held over her head to keep the toy away from Thomas falling. “Did I say my bedroom door? I..I-I um...I meant-”

    “Give the toy back, and I’ll consider lightening your punishment for breaking the rules.”

    Evie groaned loudly and shoved the toy at Thomas, whose skin and hair, Nova noticed, was a soft shade of red. At this point, Nova was used to her brother’s recent discovery that he was a prodigy like her. It wasn’t much, seemingly, because he only changed colors depending on his mood. But Nova had a feeling that there was much more to it, and that he would learn more about himself in the coming years. 

    “It’s not fair! Nova’s allowed to have her door shut!” 

    Nova began to speak, retorting that she had earned that right, but Mom beat her to it.

    “Nova is five years older than you, Evie.” She brought the stirring pot over to the island where she set it on a hot pad. “And much more mature. She’s a leader in the Renegades and has nearly perfect grades in her studies and she does her chores and work without being asked. She’s earned that right, and you will too, once we see you trying in school and emptying the dishwasher on time and not after we’ve asked ten times.”

    “Explains why you’re always grounded every other week,” Evie grumbled, shoving past Nova. 

    “Anyway,” Mom took her apron off. “Dinner’s ready. And to answer your question, Nova, it’s Sinigang.”

    Nova smiled. Her favorite. 

______

    “No boys in bedrooms!” Mom called up the stairs as Nova led Adrian up. 

    “Oh darn, there goes my plan to seduce my best friend.” She shrugged at Adrian. “Sorry, maybe next time.” She pretended not to notice how he averted her gaze, cheeks red. 

    “I mean it, Nova Jean!” 

    “We’re just going to watch a movie or something, calm down!” 

    Even as she said it, she led Adrian to the back of the upstairs where her bedroom was. 

    “Didn’t your mom just say-”

    Nova reached for his hand, pulling him inside. “We’re not going to be in my room.” She nodded to her window. “The roof?”

    A smile crept onto Adrian’s face, understanding filling his eyes. He let Nova pull him to the window. She lifted it up and stepped out onto the sill, then pushed herself up onto the roof, an easy feat as the roof was slanted right beside her bedroom window. When they were little, she and Adrian would climb up there and talk for hours until Papà would have to go out in the backyard and yell up at them to come down because it was time for Adrian to go home. 

    The wind picked up slightly, and Nova peered back over her shoulder. “Grab a blanket from my bed.”

    She crawled to the center, their spot, and waited for Adrian. When he poked his head up, she grinned and caught the blanket thrown at her. She wrapped it around herself as he joined her. 

    “How’s your team doing?” She scooted closer to him, telling herself it was because she was cold and he radiated heat. “I saw Ruby the other day in the training hall. We ran a few laps together before she had to go.”

    “Good, I suppose.” He rested back on his elbows. “Danna misses you, by the way. She won’t shut up about how you two need to grab coffee or breakfast.”

    Nova chuckled. “I know! We’ve been texting, but our schedules just haven’t lined up in a while. I haven’t been able to relax much the past few months with this new schedule I’m on.” She let out a sigh, resting her chin on her knees. “Especially since I-” she stopped herself, shoulders tensing up. Adrian didn’t know about her therapist. In fact, no one knew that she had started going to therapy, not even Adèle or Ramona or Benton, some of the people she spent most of her time around. She didn’t need people thinking she was weak.

    “Since you what?” Even though she her back was to him, Nova could hear the frown in his voice. 

    “Nothing.” Nova chewed the inside of her cheek. “Forget I said anything.”

    Adrian sat up. “No, what?” When she didn’t give him an immediate answer, avoiding his piercing gaze, he nudged her gently. “Come on, Nova. We’ve been friends for almost ten years. You know you can tell me anything.”

    She picked at a hole in her leggings. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed or anything. It’s a completely normal thing people do. It’s just...not everyone would agree with me, and you know that I’m not the most liked person in Gatlon.” It wasn’t something she acknowledged often because it always left her in a sour mood; it always lingered at the bottom of her conscience, like how Evie would overstay her welcome in Nova’s room sometimes. Because of her uncle, because of what he did before his death, the Artino’s had to tread lightly in the city. Her parents, maybe not so much, since so many sympathized with them choosing to do the right thing and nearly losing their lives over it. And Evie presented no danger because she wasn’t a prodigy, and she was too young to even remember her uncle. Thomas was still a young child, despite being a prodigy, and didn’t even know how to divide numbers bigger than twenty without help. Nova, on the other hand, was kept under supervision by just about all of Gatlon. There were people who didn’t like the fact that she was a Renegade, much less a team leader for one of the best teams in the city. They didn’t like that she was friends with Adrian Everhart, son of the late Lady Indomitable and adopted son of the Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, all three being members on the Renegades Council. Rumors had been spread in the past of her true intentions with the Everhart boy, and how much she trained, and how intelligent she was. After all, she had known Ace Anarchy; he was her Uncle Alec. She had loved him and the gifts he brought her family. That was all before she knew who he truly was, of course. 

But even then, in recent years, she had been contacted by the living Anarchists, confronted by them in person sometimes. The Council didn’t know, and it was a secret Nova planned on taking to her grave, despite never acting on their kind words and suggestions to join them, that the Renegades were flawed and corrupt. She knew they only wanted her because of her bloodline. Their words were lies.

Nova couldn’t afford to make mistakes in this world with so many eyes on her. 

Adrian shifted closer, the movement almost subtle. He placed a hand on her back, and Nova tried to hide her shiver. “They can all go to Hell. No one knows you like I do, Nova. The media...the media will always find a way to twist good into bad, no matter how hard you try.” He traced a small pattern on her back. “If you don’t want to tell me, I get it, and I won’t press anymore, but you can trust me. I promise not to tell anyone.”

Nova allowed herself to sink into his touch, just a little. After a moment, she said quietly, “I started going to therapy. You know how I don’t need to sleep? How whenever I try, I’m taken back to that night?” Adrian nodded. She had told him the story years ago. “Well, I’ve been going for that, partly.” She cleared her throat. “I learned from my therapist that I have a decent amount of anxiety, and I’m pretty fucking depressed, so I’m going for that as well.”

His hand paused on her back, then shifted to take her hand. She didn’t even realize it had started shaking. “That’s good you’re seeing someone. You’ve never been good at opening up.” She had to let out a soft laugh at that. 

“Yeah.” She looked down at their joined hands, thought of how they would look better laced together. “But I mean, it’s helped a lot. She’s helping me work through the trauma and pain I deal with on a daily basis. And she’s patient, too, so if she makes a suggestion and it takes me weeks to act upon it, she’s not upset. She’s always happy to hear me try something new.”

“Like?” Adrian looked down at her. 

She hummed. “Well, at first it was little things, like making my team train during the day instead of at four in the morning.” When Adrian frowned, she continued. “I’ve always done that because I was insecure about people watching me, about what they would say. And then it kind of just became routine, so I didn’t bother changing it until she suggested I do.”

“There were a few times I remember seeing you train during the day,” Adrian said. “They weren’t often, and I always assumed it was because something changed in your schedule.”

Nova nodded. “I hated those days. Usually, I would just try to tune everyone out but myself and my team.” She bit her lip. “Now, it’s still a little weird, but I’m getting used to it every day.” A snort escaped her mouth. “And now people can stop saying I have something to hide because I train so early.” 

    “Stop worrying about what other people think.” He squeezed her hand gently, that stupid soft smile returning to his lips.

    “Gee,” Nova deadpanned, “I wish I would’ve thought of that. Thank you. I’m cured.” 

    “You know what I mean.”

    Nova tore her hand out of his, despite liking the way it felt, to push him gently. He was laughing at her now, so she pushed him again, this time a bit harder. It seemed to have no effect on him. Why was he so infuriating? Even from going months without seeing one another, even from drifting apart in recent years, he still had the audacity to be so comfortable around her while she was an awkward mess. She guessed that may also play a part in the reason why her pulse tended to quicken in his presence the past six or more months. She also guessed that was why she enjoyed her friendship with him as much as she did, and that he was debatably the closest person to her. They could always pick up right where they left off no matter how long they were apart, as if they had talked just the other day. 

    Adrian nudged her back with his arm playfully. They went back and forth like this, playing the game for another minute or so, the two of them erupting into quite giggles, before he grabbed both of her arms as they pushed against his chest. She tried to pull away, grinning widely, but her laughter died in her throat when she looked up to meet his eyes. They stared into hers with an intensity that brought color to her cheeks. Her smile faded. 

    “Nova, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now,” he breathed. Minutes ago, he had sounded so calm, so confident, and now she could hear the trembling in his voice, the uncertainty. She could’ve sworn she saw his eyelashes dip, eyes glancing at her gaping mouth. Instead of telling her, he inched his face closer to hers. 

    Inhaling sharply, Nova almost scrambled away. Was he...great skies. She remained still, though, and surprised herself by letting her eyes flutter shut, tilting in. After all, wasn’t this what she had been wanting for so long? Many nights had been spent tossing and turning in her bed, trying to make herself get at least a few minutes of sleep despite not needing it, wondering if he thought of her the way she thought of him. They weren’t kids anymore. Things had changed. 

    But they were still friends. Best friends. What if...whatever this was...would send them down a dangerous path? It could open up something new for both of them, or it could completely ruin a decade long friendship. And with her schedule, she didn’t have time for it, even though she really, really, truly wanted it. Wanted him. This was the first time they had actually hung out in months, and while they could pick up where they left off as friends, would it be the same in a relationship?

    Too many questions raced through her mind as Adrian’s lips brushed against hers, sending electricity down her spine. She had kissed Adrian before, nearly three years ago at a party where they played spin the bottle. Back then, it was an innocent kiss, an awkward and amateur exchange between two friends who had both just recently had the talk with their parents. She remembered their friends teasing them about it for months, and Nova and Adrian had mutually agreed that it held little meaning and that nothing would change in their friendship. 

    Body trembling, Nova swiveled her head to face the backyard before Adrian’s lips could press against hers and she would be lost in him. She concentrated her eyes on the old playset in the yard. 

    “Do you want to play I Spy?” From the corner of her eye, she could see Adrian blink at her, confused and deflated at her sudden rejection. She dared to peek back at him when he didn’t answer. “It was your favorite game once upon a time, right?”

    Adrian gulped, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity, before he nodded, almost as if he understood what she was trying to silently convey through her eyes. She was scared, terrified even, of a kiss and what it could mean. Their friendship was one of the only things tethering her to sanity some days, at least it seemed that way. 

Please, please, please don’t hate me. I need normal right now. 

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

[nad-zeta]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re still taking asks but I would like to request a matchup! I’m 5’6 with olive skin and ringletted ebony hair with maroon-brown eyes and 👓 Not to brag but I’m also thicc xD I’m a usually nice and kind hearted person, but am also a bit lazy and can be a bit passive aggressive when I don’t like someone xD I also have a dirty mind xD I like to draw (that includes NSFW ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) and cook too! I also love animals, especially cats 🐱 I also value loyalty in relationships

Hi hi, love! Thanks so much for the request and sorry for taking soooo long with it! I hope you enjoy and I hope you have the best day! (✿◠‿◠)

So I match you with.............. Shingen

The first time you meet Shingen was when Yuki saved you from falling to your death, down a steep dark cliff. You had spotted Shingen and damn what a gorgeous man he was. However, all that was short-lived as soon Masamune had tracked you down and dragged you back to the castle, where you were named as the princess of the Oda forces. It took some time to adjust to the castle life, but soon you found yourself fitting right in with the mixed bunch of men. They had actually come to love and adore you so much that they dubbed you their dearest little sister.

You loved your new Oda friends, but gosh, they were all up in your business 24/7. Also, you loved to draw, often you would lock yourself in your room and just spend hours upon hours drawing. You couldn’t help it, when you felt inspired; you just felt the urge to draw. Although there is a slight downside, unfortunately for you, Masamune had discovered your talents. Thankfully he took your natural scenery sketchbook, cause heaven knows you would never have lived it down if he had stumbled upon your NSFW sketchbook. He and Mitsuhide would tease you for days, no years if he had discovered that.  

You had been working super hard and needed some time alone do to what you loved most, draw. You felt inspired to draw a certain somebody you had met the night of the fire. You collected up your sketchpad and pencils and set out to find a peaceful spot to sit and draw the day away. You had wandered a little far from the castle wall, but it was all worth it, as you had stumbled upon a vast flower field. You sat yourself down beneath a great big tree and started to draw, you had lost track of time, as when you looked up from your finished drawing, the sun was swiftly setting. It was getting darker and darker by the second and thanks to the lack of electricity soon you were surrounded by pitch-black darkness, and you didn’t know how to make your way home. Luck had not been on your side that night, as some bandits had started to circle you like a fresh piece of meat. You were really in trouble, it was dark, you were woman alone in a field, and you were now on the radar of some super dodgy men. You grabbed your bag and ran, to where, you did not know, as long as it was far away from those dirtbags. You ran and ran and ran but to no avail as soon the men had caught up to you and had now grabbed you. 

You screamed your lungs out, hoping someone would come to your aid, and as if the angels in heaven had heard and answered your prayers, a big bear of a man appeared. The big tall, handsome man wasted no time in drawing his sword and getting into stance. The bandit that had captured you, now threw you to the ground and pulled out his weapon. “I hope you scoundrels are ready to pay with your lives for mistreating such a beautiful goddess.” You tried to stand up and run while the men were distracted, but as you stood up, a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The sword fight was over before it even started, as the bandits were clearly no match for your handsome saviour, they scurried away, leaving you with the man. You looked up at Shingen and smiled as you thanked him. The man knelt down and offered you a hand up, “are you alright, my angel.” You narrowed your eyes at that cheezy comment and broke out into laughter, you were most definitely not okay. “No, I think I sprained my ankle, and my brothers are going to kill me for staying out so late.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he picked you up and cradled you in his arms, he then started carrying you back to the main road. The two of you chatted as he walked, and the second Shingen came into the light you realized who he was.

You insisted he leave you on the main road, as you knew your way back from there. He was honestly reluctant but relented after you gave him the puppy dog eyes. He then kissed your hand and bid you good night, although unbeknown to you, Shingen watched you make your way home from the shadows. Once you got to the main gate you were met with a very, very worried Hideyoshi, “And just where have you been young lady, do you….” Before he finished his sentence, he looked down and saw your ankle, his eyes widened, and he rushed to your side to help you walk. He then picked you up bridal style and took you to Ieyasu’s manor to patch you up. You had to write a full report of what had happened, and once you handed it in, the oda forces started hunting for those rotten bandits that dared lay a hand on their dearest sister.

A few weeks had passed, and your ankle finally felt better, you snuck out the castle and make your way back to the flower field to draw once more. You sat down and started to sketch when all of a sudden you heard the rustling of a nearby bush. On high alert, you swiftly stood up, when all of a sudden, you were knocked down by a small force. You opened your eyes to see two big brown eyes staring back at you. That is when you realized you had stumbled upon a little bear cub. You breathed a sigh of relief and started playing with the cute cub, soon the little creature was all played out and came to rest on your lap. You continued your sketch, a few moments later a loud smooth voice startled you. “That is quite some drawing you have there my angel.” Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment, and you moved to close your sketchbook, but alas you were too slow, as two big hands had lifted the book out of your hands and held it up in the air to examine it. You covered your face in embarrassment, Shingen gave a sly smirk as he studied the NSFW picture you were busy sketching of him, you honestly couldn’t help it, he was an absolutely gorgeous man. He gave a chuckle and returned the book to you “I must say I am flattered that such a celestial being has taken an interest in a mere mortal like myself.” You couldn’t help but laugh and playfully hit him on the chest. He really was a charmer.

Since that day it seemed that every time you went to the flower field to sketch Shingen and the little bear would conveniently just appear out of thin air. Soon you started to anticipate meeting the mysterious man. You had come to really enjoy his company, the two of you would often play with the cub and sip on some tea, courtesy of Shingen. Soon both of you found yourselves falling head over heels for each other. Shingen loved your drawings, he loved to sit and watch you draw, the way your hands would gracefully bring the image in your mind to life. He also loves that dirty mind of yours and would often tease you relentlessly.

You knew the man’s birthday was coming up via your best ninja friend Sasuke and wanted to do something nice for Shingen. You decided to use your two greatest talent and make the man you loved, a homemade gift. You had met Shingen in your usual spot in the flower field and presented him with his gift. He unwrapped the bundle with the utmost care, and his eyes widened when he saw the contents inside. You had made him some sickly sweet confectionaries and a drawing of him playing with the lil bear cub in the flower field. He was honestly so touched, never in his life had anyone given him such a thoughtful gift. He took a bite of the sweets you had made for him and he melted, it was the best sweets he had ever eaten in his life. The only thing that could possibly make Shingen even happier was if you loved him as much as he loved you.

He moved to hug you, to thank you for the gift when the bear decided at that moment to jump up onto Shingen making him lose his balance, soon the two of you toppled over, with Shingen laying beneath you. Your hand were on either side of his head, and honestly, before you knew it, you had leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. Things escalated rather quickly as not before long both of you were out of breath, smiling the biggest smiles.

Even though Shingen was a bit of a playboy in his past, he was now utterly and completely devoted to you and you to him. He loved you more than words could describe and he spent every day of his life showering you with kisses and affection. Of course, you being an Oda princess, with a group of overly protective brother made thing quite tricky for the two of you, but you were working towards getting their permission to go back home with Shingen.  

Shingen adored the fact that you were an honest, sweet, kind, caring woman, and he often wondered what he did right in life to deserve the love of such a celestial being. You were honestly the most kind-hearted person that he knows, helping every animal and person in need. In fact so kind-hearted that you were the first person in history to open an animal rescue for injured and homeless animals. A project that not only Shingen supported but all your oda brothers

Often the two of you cuties can be found walking in hand through the markets, just enjoying each others company. When you and Shingen aren’t together playing with the bear cub in the flower field, you are spending a quiet evening together in Shingen’s safe house. You would often be found nestled in Shingen’s arms as he showers you with endless love and sweet kisses

Other potential matches.............. Masamune 

I hope you enjoyed this love! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

[marvel-redemption-omega]

Of Outlaws and Family

Chapter One: New Beginnings

A/N: So I have RDR2 beat to 85% completion (the compendium isn’t finished but the story section is) and I CRIED when my precious Cowboy died! I had high honor and helped John so there was that at least I suppose... This has eight parts so uhh be prepared for this. It’s a helluva ride. It follows the story in the game for the most part, I changed some missions and added in a few for my own personal reasons (OFC x Arthur) so yeah... Don’t worry, there’s gonna be a happy ending! I promise. I have a lot of the story already planned it’s just a matter of getting the next chapters cranked out. Also Hosea and Dutch are a thing in my eyes... Dutch never corrected nor denied Hosea when he said “the curious couple and their unruly son” soooo I took it and ran. 

I am from the south and I drop ‘d’s, ‘g’s and do a buncha (<- example) other stuff when talking irl so I’ve added that into the story and tried to keep the same type of dialect (is that the word I’m tryna think of?) as they have in the game with accents. I also am trying (and editing) the Irish accents I have for Sean and Molly! If you think anything can/should be changed, please lemme (<- another example) know! Or if you can’t figure out a word/phrase I’ll help or have it in parenthesis if I know some people might have a hard time getting the accent if they’re trying to speak it aloud to hear it for themselves (my friend does this occasionally).

Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence (shoot outs/shoot ups/gangs,bushwhacking. etc), mentions of death/dead gang members

Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!

My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.

Word Count: 3,246

“Faster, Girl, faster! Go! We gotta get home before them!”

“You think you can outrun us? You owe us, Little Lady!”

“Get her!”

“Don’t let her get away!”

“Fancy, let’s go! Hyah!” She urges her horse on and leans forward, stirrups tied high on the sides of the saddle. The brown mustang tosses her head and breaks from her gallop to a flat out bolt. “Atta girl, c’mon.” The trees and rolling land all blurs as she and Fancy run along the road, she barely registers the white blip of a horse at the four way cross.

“Whoah!”

“Sorry, Mister! Can’t talk! Gotta run!” She turns slightly in her saddle to call the apology over her shoulder as her mare continues to carry her back home. The small band of people, behind the man she narrowly missed, watch her in curiosity.

“There she is!”

“Don’t lose sight of her again!”

“Try and cut her off before she gets over that hill!”

A group of seven men, each on their own horse, fly by as well, sparring not even a glance their way. The owner of the white stallion is stunned for a moment before he calms his horse and turns around.

“Bill, Micah, go after her and help with those damned O’Driscolls. We’ll continue on to get settled. Once we’re good, if they’re not back yet, we’ll go search for them. Come on,” he instructs and watches as aforementioned duo break off and tail the lady’s assailants.

“Dutch, why did you send them? You know how he acted with Mrs. Adler. Was it really wise to send both of them unsupervised?”

“Arthur, are you doubting me? We’re almost there and it shouldn’t take too awful long to set everything up so we won’t be too far behind them,” Dutch turns his horse back and clicks his tongue as they continue on.

“Looks like that was the last one, Ma. Want me to go start the bonfire?”

“Yes please, James. Take Fancy out to the paddock on your way. I left her hitched to the porch,” she answers and leans her gun against the wall. “I’ll get the horses that didn’t spook and start dragging these guys around back.” The boy runs out the back door and she can hear murmurs to her horse and the soft nickers in a sort of reply as he does as told. She sighs and opens her front door.

“Hello, Ma’am, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Seems like we didn’t need to come help.”

Two men push their way inside as she darts back towards her table, picking up a rope lying on it. She lassos one of them and yanks him to the floor, hog tying him as a shotgun clicks as it’s cocked. The other man holds his hands up at the boy who is aiming the gun at him, startling back a few steps.

“Bill! Don’t just stand there! Do something! Untie me!” the hog tied man grumbles as he rolls onto his shoulder to look at his friend.

“And end up shot or like you? No thanks, Micah. I’ll stay here,” he snips and glances down. She uses the moment of interruption to her advantage and lassos Bill too, dragging him closer before hog tying him as well.

“James, hun, go start that fire. We might have more than I thought,” she orders and takes the gun from him as he passes. He shoots a glare over his shoulder to the strange men and dashes out the back door.

Dutch and Arthur look at the house where Bill and Micah’s horses are grazing. Arthur gives him a pointed look, which Dutch sighs at. They climb down from their horses and lead them to the porch and try to quietly walk up, checking around them for any traps or followers. The door is slightly ajar and a women’s voice, the same from earlier, filters out.

“You two have some nerve. Now tell me, what does Colm want now? I done told him I ain’t joining his stupid gang and I won’t warm his bed. If you think that I’ll do it for either of you then you’ve got another thing coming and not even half a mind between the two of you!”

“Well, Darlin’, you might be right about that. There’s not half a brain betweenst those two, but I do take offense that too you think we’re with that dirty, yellow bellied scum, Colm O’Driscoll.”

“Who the hell are you?” A shotgun is pointed at the two newcomers, and Arthur’s lips twitch up as his and Dutch’s hands go up.

“Dutch Van der Linde and this here is Arthur Morgan. I sent Bill and Micah here to help you with those fools, after you nearly trampled me,” Dutch smoothly states, walking forward as he speaks. She backs up to the other side of the table and raises her brow.

“Ma! Ma! There’s two mo-” James freezes at the back door, eyes wide as all attention focuses on him. “They’re already here. What do you want with my Ma?! She ain’t got no money! She don’t want no dirty O’Driscoll!” He shouts and moves so he’s beside his mother, eyes narrowed.

“That’s a tough little boy you have there, Ma’am. What’s his name? And yours?” Dutch stands just on the other side of the table, hands still up, no move made to untie his men, nor is there anyone else in the house, and he hasn’t reached for his pistols either.

“James. His name is James. And I’m Scarlet. Scarlet O’Hara,” Scarlet lowers the shotgun and places it on the table. “So if you’re not with Colm, why are you here? My…” she hesitates and glances at James,” his father isn’t in trouble is he? He’s not part of a gang.”

Arthur and Dutch share a look, glance at the grumbling duo on the floor, and back to Scarlet. They shake their heads and James wraps his arms around his mother’s waist, head resting on her stomach. She wraps her arm around his shoulders and leans down to press a kiss to his mop of dark brown hair.

“Considering we don’t know his father, by name or otherwise? No, we aren’t here about him. When I realized you we’re running from O’Driscolls, I figured you might need help. So I sent these two men to try and help you; though from the looks of your yard and what you’ve done to poor Bill and Micah, well, you didn’t need our help.” Dutch has a way with words, Scarlett will admit that. He’s charismatic and charming, easy on the eyes too. She likes him.

“Well, Mr. Van der Linde, care to help me drag the bodies out back to the pit? We burn any ones that manage to get too close,” she offers and hands James a knife, motioning to the men on the floor. “Cut ‘em loose, but don’t cut them or yourself, James.” The boy nods and cuts the rope on their wrists and backs up to Scarlet, leaving them to cut the rope on their ankles. He sets the knife on the table.

“Damn woman put these too tight to slip out of,” Micah mutters under his breath as he slices through the rope on his legs. He gets to his feet and helps Bill up as well.

“I think we can help with that. Any chance of more O’Driscolls coming this way?” Arthur leads the group out the front door, glancing at Scarlet over his shoulder.

“Maybe. I planned on burning down the house and headed out tonight. I have a wagon down yonder with our stuff and a horse. I was gonna saddle up Fancy and Shamrock and sneak there with James,” she admits and ducks her head a little in embarrassment. Dutch studies her for a moment as they gather the dead men and move them to the backyard.

“I have an idea. You’re free to say no of course, but we could always use more people. We could help give protection to not only you, but to your boy too. James seems like a smart kid, we’ve got another boy just a little younger than him. I’m sure Jack would love to have someone his age to play and hang out with.”

Ooooh, curse this man’s charisma. He’s bound to know I’ll do anything for my boy. Curse him, Scarlet thinks, hesitating in kicking her guy into the small, dug out pit. James helps roll the guy down then busies himself with the O’Driscolls horses, leading them to the pasture as he talks to calm them. There’s kindling starting to catch the logs and clothed bodies of the dead already in the pit.

“I always said I’d never run with a gang, though I fear as I don’t have much other choice. Not now anyway. They won’t stop coming after me and it’s not like I can hide here forever. They’ll find me eventually. I can’t have that. They can’t find out about James,” she confirms, voice filled with conviction. She nods to herself and turns to face the four men. “Dutch Van der Linde, you have yourself a new member. Just tell me all I need to know.”

They finish up the litter of bodies as Dutch and Arthur list the rules of the gang and all it entails, or what they feel they can share around James, with some protest from Micah, then all head back inside. Scarlet ushers them to sit around her table as she fixes them lunch, sending James to feed and water the horses when he’s done with his plate, which he obliges without protest. She keeps busy by cleaning the dishes and packing them as the men talk amongst themselves.

When James comes back inside, having fed and watered the small groups’s horses too, Dutch suggests they head out. He volunteers Arthur to stay behind and drive the wagon when she decides to leave and join them. Scarlet thanks them and sends them on their way with a promise to not be too long with the last of the packing.

It doesn’t take too awful long to get three full double-saddlebags put on the horses. James is sent to lead all the horses to the fence and hitch them to posts in preparation of saddling. Arthur offers to help James and Scarlet nods in thanks as the males head out the back.

Once the trio of horses are saddled, Scarlet ties Shamrock’s reins to Fancy’s saddle horn so he doesn’t spook when she lights the house. She helps her son get into Fancy’s saddle and rubs the brown mustang’s nose, up the white blaze between her eyes.

“Stay, Girl. I’ll be right back. Calm,” she coos to the horse and steps away. Arthur is waiting in his saddle, Fancy’s reins in hand to keep her calm, though Scarlet is positive she won’t spook and tells him as such.

It takes less than two minutes for her to grab her hidden cash and light the bedroom on fire. She leaves the door open as she walks down the front porch and towards the five horses, two being ones from the O’Driscoll members. She climbs into the saddle and Arthur hands her the reins, James sitting in front of her.

“Let’s go get your wagon and then head out. I think we can make quick work of the trip,” he suggests and James tilts his head up to look at his mom.

“Can I ride by myself please?”

Scarlet bites her cheek and hesitates a moment before nodding and slipping from behind him. She unties Shamrock’s reins and tosses them over his head and neck before hopping to his back and adjusting in the barely used saddle. He startles a little but settles down once Scarlet gives his neck a pat and reassures him it’s only her.

“Alright. I’ll lead you to the wagon, and then we can tie those extra horses to the back side of it so they can’t run off. I can ride your horse or lead him back if I ride Fancy. James can ride in the back of the wagon. Shamrock will follow wherever his momma, Fancy, goes,” she plans, though she’s talking mostly to herself until the end, and walks Shamrock to the hitching post to take the reigns of the O’Driscoll horses. They toss their heads and nicker softly as she ties the reins to the horn, leaving plenty of slack so her legs don’t get caught. “That should do it.”

“Lead the way,” Arthur gestures for her to lead and watches as James clicks his tongue and Fancy prances up behind Shamrock. He follows behind the boy and mother, smile on his lips.

“You know, I gotta admit, that was some fine handling of gang members. You sure you’ve never ran with someone before?”

Arthur’s question startles Scarlet slightly and Shamrock spooks, prancing to the left and pulling the two tied horses with him. She rubs his neck and soothes him before straightening in the saddle and kicking him slightly. James lets the reins rest on the horn, hands rubbing Fancy down as he sings her praises.

“No. My brothers are part of one, or were. I’m not sure anymore, haven’t heard from them in awhile. My parents weren’t too happy bout it but they were grown and both could handle their own with the best of them. Last I heard from them, I think they was in Blackwater. But that were years ago. Long before I were even pregnant with James,” her eyes stay trained on Shamrock, blinking back the withheld tears.

The thoroughbred-mustang cross tosses his head and neighs at her discomfort, slowing from a gallop to a trot despite her order to sped up. He pulls enough so the reins are from her hands and he turns to look at her, nickering softly. Fancy speeds up to trot as close as she can beside them, gently nipping at Scarlet’s boot.

“Mama?” James inquires, concern and fear in his quivering voice. She slouches in the saddle, hand going slack on the reins. She leans forward and whispers something to Shamrock before sitting back, looking at her son with a sad smile.

“Just miss my brothers, your uncles….that’s all, James. I wish you coulda met them. I wish I knew what’s happened to them or at least where they are,” she admits and reaches into her shoulder bag. She drops one sugar cube into her right hand and leans forward to feed it to her stud. She holds her palm out for Fancy who happily eats it, then turns to each horse tied to Shamrock, coaxing them softly to take the sugar. She holds her hand out to Arthur who hesitates a moment. “It’s just a sugar cube, ain’t gonna poison your horse. I’d be stupid too,” she chuckles as he accepts the horse treat. His horse tosses his head as he pats his neck.

“Well, I guess you’re right. Can’t be too careful though,” he huffs a small laugh as he rubs his horse’s neck as it nickers happily.

“Mm. That’s the wagon, just ahead,” she nods to a wagon stashed between several trees and bushes. Arthur moves his horse to her other side to get a better look at where she’s pointing. It hadn’t been a far ride, and there’s a horse already tied to the front, pawing at the ground in wait.

“How did you get to own three horses? If you don’t mind me asking,” Arthur asks as they slow to a walk until they reach the tied wagon. Scarlet shrugs as she slips easily from the saddle and leads Shamrock to the back to tie him to one of the trees and undo the other horses.

“My mom. Fancy was hers. Well, technically my grandmother’s but when she couldn’t take care of them my mother offered to take them and well, when I was ready to leave she said I could have Fancy since she don’t ride no more. Said it would be good for her to be with someone she trusts and who would actually ride her and take care of her. She’s pretty old, thirty five or six I think,” she admits and kisses Shamrock’s nose when he puts his face in hers.

“Shamrock was born a few years after I was, so he’s roughly my age. Maybe five years younger. That,” Scarlet points to the horse on the wagon, “asshole is Shasta. He is a moody jerk who I sometimes have to fight just to put up for the night. I got him in a race. Before I were pregnant with James, I would race Fancy. Bets for money or horses were traded, depending on my opponent.

“So I beat the guy who owned him. I felt bad though cause Shasta was young then, only two at the time. His owner, a real rich prick, hit him in the face with the butt of his pistol. So I lassoed the guy off Shasta and hogtied him. Fancy just let me do my thing since she’s seen almost everything, my old girl.

“Shasta spooked so I tossed the guy on Fancy and caught Shasta, lassoing him and calming him. When I climbed into that man’s saddle, I swear he didn’t even have him broke, just listening out of fear. He immediately started bucking and kicking like crazy. I wore him down and tied him to Fancy so I could rid him of the horrid saddle. It was too big for his back! I beat the guy up a bit and yelled at him about his abuse of the poor horse and made him swear to be better. Then I looted the saddlebags and the guy for all he had on him and dropped him and his saddle on the side of the trail we were on after cutting his wrists free. I rode with Shasta tied to Fancy back to my old place and have had him since,” she recalls, chuckling at the memories of that day.

“Sounds like you like gettin into trouble, or at the very least, causin it. Should I ask Dutch to rethink this invitation? We don’t need any more trouble,” Arthur jests, climbing off his horse to help unsaddle the O’Driscoll horses.

“Nah. I’m not gonna be the cause of it. I usually just wind up pulled into it. We can change Shasta with these two so they can’t break away and run off on us. I’ll ride him and my two will follow. Unless you’d feel comfortable tying him to the back,” she rambles as she helps James into the back of the wagon before moving to help Arthur with the saddles.

“Two horses work better than one. I think I’ll let you handle unhooking Shasta though. Sounds like he’s a right brute when he wants to be,” he hefts a saddle and puts it in the remaining room in the wagon, ruffling James’ hair in passing. James sticks his tongue out at the man before clambering closer to the seat and waiting for them.

“Aha, yeah. You’re right. He’s a brute alright,” she chides and rounds the front of the wagon after adding the second saddle on top of the other one. “Go ahead and slip their bits out and I’ll settle Shasta, get him dressed in Fancy’s saddle.”