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binniesthighs · 4 years ago

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what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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darkmagickingdom · 3 years ago

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Sup! Just wanted to ask if I have your permission to make a Cards & Dice playlist on my spotify? It's a really cute ship that I've been wanting to know more of your hcs about, and I thought they deserved a playlist! And may I know a bit more about their son as well? He's adorable!!!!

Oh you don't have to ask my permission for that! I don't have the ship patented or anything lol

I would love to be given the link when it's done though!

I remember getting that ask, I just didn't have the brain juice for it at the time. I still don't have a lot of thoughts, my creative energy has been pretty sapped lately because. Very negative current events.

I'll try and come up with a few things at least.

Oogie's actually really smart since he built all of those traps himself. He mostly just falters with thinking through possible consequences and when it comes to relationships, taking a hint

Facilier is the smooth-talking type who tends to lean towards subtle flirtation, which means it took an embarrassingly long time for Oogie to figure out he was even into him

Though to be fair to Oogie, he's used to bug flirting methods, which are considerably different. He also may very well have not realized guys could like guys, because he likely figured out his persona by watching humans (headcanon: at a casino)

Oogie didn't actually figure out Facilier fancied him until he admitted he liked the Shadow Man first

"Wait, did you just flirt with me?" "Have been for the past eight months, Oogie, but thanks for noticing."

The other folks are happy for them but at the same time very frustrated because these two are a menace together. They're always pulling pranks on other characters or scaring them or something to that extent

They bring out the worst in each other but not in a supervillain kinda way, more like a "the two kids in the class that aren't allowed to sit next to each other because they will start scheming" way

I keep comparing their antics to more evil versions of SpongeBob and Patrick but it's accurate

"Oogie, I just thought of somethin' even funnier than 24." "What's that, Doc?" "Twenty-five ;)"

They send each other into absolute hysterical laughter with the simplest of jokes

As for Sam

Out of universe, he was named after the pint-sized adorable slasher from Trick 'r Treat. In-universe, his name has the same inspo as that slasher's: Samhain, the festival that later became Halloween

Sam loves bright neon colors because blacklight aesthetic

He's technically a prince because Oogie is considered royalty by bugs. Also Facilier's a royal himself on his mother's side

Sam's a prince the same way Bambi and Simba are. Wouldn't be recognized by Man but critters respect it

This makes him a Disney Prince just like how Carys is a Disney Princess

Sam gets helped in the morning by bugs and spiders and snakes, Carys gets helped in the morning by rats and skeletons and the Gwythaints

Lock, Shock and Barrel see Sam as their little brother despite him now being taller than them, and lord have mercy on anyone who messes with their little brother. That's their job!

Sam gives really good hugs. He learned from Oogie

#cards & dice #sam boogie

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dumbsack · 2 years ago

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Warning: I like to doodle on my phone even though I'm not really good at it. Also, this post is gonna be about some dumb Rabite OC, so... Uh... Yeah.

It's almost been a year since I (well, pop, too) made up some ridiculously adorable Rabite OC for Duran and Angela to share as a pet/son and kickstart their """""secret""""" relationship. It was a rough month, so writing about an adorable little critter (and writing my otp doing cute autumn things and making out in a pile of leaves) helped things feel a little better.

so, here are some misc doodles from the past year or so I did while me and pop shaped this little sweer potato into... Something. A character?

Cider was kind of an accident. While writing Fall I was like "oh heck, pop, dude, I want something to interrupt them when they're making out, otherwise I'm gonna have to write smut and I'm not ready for that level of commitment yet".

Pop, he's my man, my dawg, my ace in the hole, my sigma reader, a genius! (It's why I steal his ideas for stories, bahaha). He says, "Why not have the Rabite that pops out of the pile of leaves and spooks Angela earlier interrupt them?"

Boom. And then I thought about the little Rabite following them back to Valsena and then...

Oogh. This is rough, but it's one of the first doodles I did, trying to figure out how to like... Draw the characters...

Man, Cider is HUGE! that was before...

... In Spring Forward I had Duran compare Cider's previous size/shape to a sweet potato because I didn't really know what else to use (and sweet potato is a fun word) so, retroactively, baby Cider is the size of a sweet potato. Cider picked up some bad habits from his parents, it seems. He's supposed to be roughly 3 months old when they find him (the actual first time they find him, though, he's like, two weeks old, tops).

sweer potato

This doodle long existed before the Kirby crossover fic. Oh, poor Duran. He really wanted those bladed shoes.

L. "SHE'S A WITCH!"

R. Cider likes to snooze in his papa's hair.

One of my favorite traits about Cider is, even though he's domesticated, he still has a little tiny Rabite pea brain, so sometimes he doesn't quite comprehend things. Like, Rabite Slippers, or plushies.

"MY SON IS FAT! AND PINK! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" -Duran

Actually, in the final version of Spring Forward, I took out the fat descriptor for Cider when he boomfs into a Silktail. I forget why. Pop thought it was funny. Some of the doodles we traded at that time were FAT Cider. It was a good time. I think this is when we started giving him a bowtie, too.

Warm weather = bowties

Cold weather = scarf

the after effects of getting swallowed and spit out by a world-destroying god and eating Super spicy curry can be pretty devastating. That Kirby crossover was a fun fic to write. I reeeally wanted Duran and Angela to avoid meeting Kirby directly.

I wasn't kidding when I said I was in tears writing the (temporary) departure. Heck, dude. I draw/imagine Cherry a little more close to what Rabites are supposed to look like... or, I try to. Cider has big, floppy ears, while she has the more traditional triangular ones. (Cider's weirdass family is probably going to have to be a separate post because I hit image limit and there's too much to explain)

Anyway, I love Rabites. Why do we have to fight them? It's not right, man. How can I, or anyone, in good conscience, fight something that is JUST TRYING TO SLEEP AND HAS THE CUTEST LITTLE SNORES AND HOPS AROUND AND WIGGLES ITS EARS LIKE IT'S DANCING

ISHII! YOU ARE A MONSTER! A MONSTERRRRRRRGHHHHHGGRFGHHHHHHhhhhhhhhrrghhr

#trials of mana #oc #original rabite OC donut steel #duran/angela #ramblings #fanfic #fan art #rabites

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with-the-same-tattoos · 4 years ago

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Hi, for the character question thing.. big boy Thomas? 👉👈

Thomas Hewitt

• favorite thing about them — efficiency. Idk, there is just smth so lovely about how like.... hard of a worker he is? Tough, strong, does whats needed. Along w how he seems to have this incredibly sensitive, thoughtful side, there's smth really pretty about it. I get the feeling that he has some anxiety when it comes to making choises for himself, and he's most comfortable following lead, which, again, w his stature and strenght kinda makes for smth really intriquing, but also, again, gives room to growth, an arc where he might be able to learn to put his foot down. I don't want him to have to stand up for himself to be respected, but I wish he could find an enviroment where he is respected and heard out as he is. But i also wanna see him smack Hoyt around. Pl e a se. Also he is big strong he is thicc as hell and oh my god i just had the shakiest breath he is so gorgeous that visualizinh him caused me a little brain freeze.

• least favorite thing about them — murder :/ yk.

• favorite line — his hands r his lines and the little gestures he does... 💖 one of my faves is when hes standing in front of a door w his hands in front of him and he moves his thumb, clearly thinking abt smth and fidgeting a bit, it's very endearing.

• brOTP — i wanna see hIM W THE SAWYERS. I don't like the Hewitts that much, I want to see Thomas & the two gals in the Sawyer family, I think it'd be more fun for them.

• OTP — dunno ships for him? I guess?again i WOULD smooch him so i guess y/n & thomas. Thomas & vincent pretty cute but i like my silly lil nubbins & vincent more bc loud vs extremely quiet character hits different....

• nOTP — dunno ships much????

• random headcanon — he's a cat person!!!! I often lean towards dog ppl as hcs bc i just love dogs a lot, but Thomas just has the vibe where he would watch a tiny kitten bite at his sasaug fingers and hum and coo kindly. He defi has some half stray cats hanging around that he feeds..... bits....... to............ look, hes just tryna be a good guy. ALSO, he pats cats for bringing him dead critters, he sees it as a sign of affection and gets so proud.

• unpopular opinion — cant think of any?????

• song i associate with them —

• favorite picture of them —

Full on anything where his eyes & face is visible !!! I rly like the tcm beginning mask bc the actor has some incredibly beautiful intense, thoughtful glances and it's rly nice to get to see him think more. But also just, the only shot of his face :') i mean shit man!!! The curve of the skull around the nose is SO fucking elegant, it reminds me of the arch of a swans neck, and he has that visible??? Mwah!!!! I wanna see more !!! Please !!!! In general he has just a great face, the actor is just mad handsome, i lov his soft cheeks sm 🥺🥺

———

send me a character and i’ll list:

#ask #thomas hewitt #cries on the floor #mwah mwah he is so wonderful &interesting but i do not like the hewitt household.....

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spottedlekkudancer · 5 years ago

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Lady of the Stars Part One - Contact

@paytonita @tranquility-or-chaos @inumorph

THIS IS A SW/Witcher CROSSOVER.

Geralt x Jedi!Reader

2.8K words

Originally planed on having 2 or 3 parts to this story but apparently I have diarrhea of the mouth and moved the plot too slow. So get ready to be strapped in for at least 4 if not 5 self indulgent parts. And feel free to send me all the questions you like.

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of death, violence, and other adult themes.

By whim or by destiny light catches your attention though fluttering lashes. It kisses your cheek with warmth and the subtleness of a gentle dawn. After a moment the fog of sleep sheds from your brain. You adjust. The orange glow crackles at your nose and you realize that you are in more peril than the lingering caress of your dreams led you to believe. The pilot’s dash in front of you is consumed with flame.

“Crinking Hell! Dol'bfai!” You smack the Weequay to your right in an attempt to get his attention, but your hand meets nothing but the padding of your co-pilot’s chair. Heart dropping to your gut you look about the cockpit of your HWK-290. The leathery skinned man was in a broken bloody heap on the floor behind you. You might have felt bad if he wasn’t such E-chu-ta each and every day. If fact you couldn’t help but scold him mentally for not wearing his seat straps. “So much for ‘the experienced never falter’ line, Chuggnut.” You grunted, ejecting yourself from your own buckles to take care of the more pressing matter.

You leaned over the Weequay smuggler’s body to get to the extinguishing hose and with a little effort you salvaged what was left of your controls. Outside your ship was another wreck all together. Fires were smoldering at every corner of your limited view from inside. You had half a mind to run out immediately, but thought better of it. If your ship was going to blow up it would have done so already you told yourself in a comforting manner. Sending your droids for damage control was the safer option on foreign planets. However, you couldn’t stay put forever. The damages weren’t going to evaluate themselves, moreover, the body of your partner needed to be dragged out before he started to stink. By the looks of things the atmosphere had to be breathable. Most planets with such green life gave off suitable levels of oxygen for humans. Whatever the case, you would have to risk it; your employer refused to provided vacuum suits or travel tanks. Too costly.

You were use to the miserly ways of the former pirate leader Hondo Ohnaka. You had been working with his smuggling cover company for half a decade now: ever since you ran from the Jedi training academy, or rather, Ben Solo. You didn’t know Solo to be a liar, in fact he had treated you like a little sister for all the years you had grown together, but when he told you and the others how Luke had turned on him you were too confused to chose between the two of them. Luke was your master, and Ben your friend. The force whispered something to you then. A soft encouragement to leave everything. You chose to listen; to not pick sides at all, and made a new life for yourself under an identity the Weequay stole for you.

Once free of your hot metal cage it was clear that things were not as horrible as you imagined. You were safe from any fuel combustion’s or reactor leaks. The two DUM-series pit droids were clumsily scurrying about trying to put out the fire that was inching ever closer to your turret. It was also evident from the back that only one of Pathfinder’s two hyper-drive systems had taken on some heavy laser canon damage. Looked like the shielding component was scored too, but that wasn’t a necessity for getting back in the air.

“The kriff happen?” you weren’t fully talking to anyone, not even yourself. You had a vague memory of being cornered by Absolution, a First Order R-SD, and their TIE fighters on your way to a high bye delivery. But how, moreover where, you crash landed was still a mystery. You tapped the remote on your wrist. A projection fizzed in and out of view with vertical blue static. You must have knocked it out of order in the crash. Now you had no way of knowing what planet you were on or what it’s population consisted of.

“O-T!” The droid with the painted yellow stripe above his singular oculus ambled in your direction. “Once you get this mess under controls see if our Nav is still in tact. The job is a sham but we might be able to at least back track to base. I’ll go scout out the area for any nearby scarp yards. We aren’t getting off this durkload of a planet in this condition, that’s for damn sure.” O-T nodded and whistled a question in response. “Don’t know. Com link is out and I’m not able to check for life forms. If anything happens just lock yourselves in the ship 'til I get back.” You didn’t wait for the little droid to argue with you more as he usually would. It wasn’t likely you would be getting an extraction from Ohnaka Transport Solutions this close to First Order territory anyway. You were on your own.

You traveled 500 paces from your ship in each cardinal direction before you came to something of interest. Flowing SE to S was a small river bed. With noting more than a seemingly endless forest as your surrounding it was your best bet to finding civilization. For another hour you saunter down the unbeaten path until you felt night approaching. There was already little light beneath the canopy and you didn’t have the eyes of a cat, so with your wits and strength still about you you turned back. The rusted roof of your Corellian light freighter would have to suffice for the night.

The cacophonous sounds of shrieking and the boisterous gargling of goose like honks was your first indication that something was awry near your ship. The closer you got the more defining the racket became. Whatever the creature was, and you were sure it was some kind of animal, had to have a massive pair of lungs on it.

With much disappointment you found your analysis to be correct. Thought the brush you could see some kind giant blue feathered lizard-bird striking at your dead co-pilot’s flesh. You cursed yourself for not burring the poor man right away, and true to your command your pit droids had barricaded them selves inside your transport.

“Mother of …” You sighed to yourself. Your Jedi teachings told you to let the beast be, however, just hiding behind a tree all night while it desecrated the Weequay’s body didn’t feel right to you. Regardless you held yourself back from attacking the thing. It was just trying to survive after all, and if you didn’t have to get into a fight you didn’t want to. You were already stranded. Adding injury to that would not be wise.

When morning came the feathered brute had not yet left; roosting atop your ship like it had always belonged there.

Well if the giant critter wanted it, he could have it. In your groggy state you had little patience and didn’t want to be bothered with defending what you didn’t currently posses. You had everything you needed: canteen, provisions in your belt pouch, republic credits, and of course your trusty light-saber. Once you got what you wanted from the scrap shop you would deal with the overgrown pidgin.

“You’re alive.”

The voice of your pursuer was clear. This wasn’t part of your imagination. The force had bonded you and Solo again. “Careful Ren, you almost sound relived.”

Kylo scoffed. “Surprised is more likely."

You stood and turned around. Were there was once endless forest now stood the masked Dark Jedi you both dreaded and longed to see. "How is it you keep your standards for me so low when I’ve evaded your every move."

"I wouldn’t call narrowly escaping with your life an 'evasion’.” Gloved hands ringed rightly around themselves. Anger or worry built like a tumultuous storm inside of him: you couldn’t tell which. “How did you manage that Jump?”

“Jump?” The query slipped though your lips too quickly.

“Don’t remember? Maybe your not as well of as you look” Kylo straightened with pride. You were sure he was gloating to himself on his small victory. “My Knights had you cornered at the edge of a nebula. With no larger ship close enough to tractor you in I gave the order to immobilize you.”

“Why not just kill me?"

It was an abrupt interruption that went unanswered. Kylo waited for you to calm yourself before continuing. Even now as a villainous "dark lord” he was patient with you. “We took out your Hyperdrive, Y/N. That jump should have been impossible.”

It was coming back to you now. You had prosperously led the TIEs to the cloud of gas and dust. You planed to enter into it blind and use the force as your guide. You figured the lot you were running from wouldn’t dare try to fallow. Instead your ship started to shake and spark as it tried desperately to hold against the onslaught. You panicked. You didn’t even complete the calculations before you pushed your freighter to enter hyperspace. You could have died. You could have been thrust into a star or another mass and exploded into dust.

Your stomach tightened. Dol'bfai was dead because of your rash behavior. He was in the middle of un-tethering a knot in his seat straps when you made that decision. You pulled out of it almost immediately, giving your best attempt at the “skipping” the other smuggler pilots did so often, but it was too late. You were entering the atmosphere of another moon or planet. There was not time to pull up, and you crashed.

If Kylo saw the tear you shed just then he didn’t bother to comment on it. “If you were with those goons of yours you could have planned better for that. You know as well as your father that every standard HAWK series come with two hyperdrives."

You could have sworn you heard Kylo curse from beneath his helmet. His breathing was expeditious and heavy now; you cold feel his fury swarming in the force around you.

"Cookie points to you if you are able to find me this time Ren. Even I don’t know where I am.” You teased rather lightheartedly.

This only pushed his buttons more. He gestured to you pointedly. “Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll bring you in myself if I have to.”

And with that your force connection faded. The experience left you feeling diminished and torn. Your past kept endangering the people around you. With a heaving breath and shaking knees you looked ahead to the southern half of the forest. You could dwell on these events all day if you’d like, but it would just be a waist of time. You needed to set your pity party aside and focus on getting off this planet before he really did find you.

~~~ Two days had passed and you thanked the force that not one of them brought you any sign of the First Order. Your only gripe was that the town you had found proved your worst nightmares had come true. This planet was primitive. The citizens here weren’t even literate, moreover, building any sort of machinery. You were shit out of luck, money, and a plan.

Was this punishment? You thought it might be far more often than you would like to admit. The force had never led you so astray before. What kind of design could it have for you now?

Your credits weren’t worth anything here but one tavern keeper in this shit stained town you did take a fancy to your Heart of Beskar necklace. You debated for a long while if you should give it to him in exchange for a few hot meals and a bed. It was the only thing you had to remember your birth family of after all. But after a particularly stormy night you didn’t have choice any longer. Not unless you wanted to freeze to death. It was hard to let go, but not as hard as it was each day that passed knowing your parents let you be raised by a stranger.

Sure becoming a Jedi was a noble cause to enlist your child into, but unlike so many of your piers you did not ever go back home to your parents. Ben and the others always got to see their loved ones for a few weeks every so often, and yet you were kept locked away on the training camp with Luke year round. When asked Luke assured you that your parents were still alive; he even gave you their names and home planet. Even now after having found their old home and poppers grave you didn’t understand.

So to the inn keep you gifted your father’s old armor piece, and two nights stay was what he offered you in return. Not a fair trade by any means, however, how exactly were you supposed to explain the galactic value of Beskar to these simple people?

A man dressed in bright colors played a 15 stringed instrument in the corner of the tavern. He was merry and boisterous; entertaining at the vary least. You pitied that the crowd this morning was not taking well to him. Half of them were hung over, the other half looked mean and dirty enough to scare a Dewback.

The Musician caught you staring at him. A smile brighter than the three suns of Helioss graced his features. You cringed internally and returned his gesture with a timid one of your own. Silently you prayed he wouldn’t goat you into some volunteer sing-song delights so publicly.

The Man’s strut was so vaunt it had every patron staring at him as he made his way though the tables to presumably talk to you. You shrunk a little in your seat, not wanting this kind of attention. You had already drawn enough as it was with how oddly you were dressed; you didn’t need any more. He plopped down opposite you at the table.

“So! How come the only person in this shit stick interested in my song is a pretty young woman like you?” He gave you almost no room to think of an answer before continuing his self serenade. “If it’s my corky charm or boyish good looks please don’t keep me waiting in sufferance to hear those sweet words leave your lips.” The line could have been considered smooth to some, however, the awkward and eager demeanor he carried was a little too much. You could see how it was putting off the rest of the room.

The only response you had to offer was a perplexed smile.

He rested his chin in the palm of his upturned hand. “Come on!” He whined enthusiastically. “Care to comment on the quality of my performance? I do love getting reviews from the public.”

You sighed though your nose and fiddled with the food in front of your. “Yes, well… I suppose we all yearn for validation. Don’t we?”

It was the bard’s turn to bewildered. He sat up stat tall in his bench now, brows furrowed, taking a briefer moment to ponder. “What’s your name?”

Your head tilted. “Where I’m from it’s rude to ask for someone’s name without offering your own first.” It was a plane way of throwing his question back at him; you weren’t looking to get overly acquainted with anyone if you could avoid it.

“Oh!” He was beaming excitedly again. “Where is it you are from?!"

You gave him an unblinking stare for what felt like a medium sized eternity. Clearly he was not accustom to taking non verbal ques. You decided to just give in to his delicate personality. "Florrum.”

“Ahh.” He nodded in a knowing matter. “Beautiful country.”

“Right.” He was pulling Bantha wool over your eyes in an attempt to impress you. It was arguably charming.

“Where is that exactly? From here I mean.” The bard laughed nervously as he knocked his head playfully. “I get so turned around while mindlessly fallowing my muse on his travels.”

“Your Muse?” It was time to change the subject.

“Oh hohoho! He is a man of Destiny, Heroics, and Heart Brake.” The man practically jumped out of his seat and with one leg propped up onto the bench he swung his instrument back front side. “Shall I play you a song about him?”

Head half in your hands you nodded. Your bashful nature told you you would regret this, but you didn’t have the heart to say no.

He was taking his first heaving breath before starting to strum when another interrupted the musician, yanking him back by the shoulder. “Jaskier. We’re leaving.” The new man was hulking and clad in black studded leathers, with eyes of gold. He wasn’t old, but his hair was as silver as his blades. A striking appearance. Perhaps humans weren’t the only sentient species on this forsaken planet.

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offrankies · 5 years ago

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Breakfast at Graham's || Marley, Graham & Frankie

Timing: Sometime last week. Parties: @detectivedreameater, @grahamstoker & @offrankies Summary: Meeting your roommate’s fuck buddy is an awkward experience. Especially when there’s screaming cicadas all over the apartment.

It was days like these when Frankie thanked God hadn’t given her supernatural senses, especially enhanced hearing, as Graham seemed to get more action than she had expected when she had first moved in. Like, fine, despite playing for the other team, Frankie could admit that the guy was handsome, but she had assumed that vampires couldn’t get laid for… their lack of blood and what it biologically implied. Maybe Edward getting Bella pregnant wasn’t too insane, after all. Still, nothing had prepared her to be sitting in the kitchen, cereal and milk on the bowl in front of her as she scrolled through instagram, when the faint but constant bug screams she had heard all night suddenly became louder when Graham’s door opened, a muffled groan leaving her lips. She wasn’t going to start to judge her roommate’s kinks and what did it for him (or his partner, for that matter) to get off, or maybe she would in a very silent way with lots of stares; but he could do whatever he wanted in his room, away from the common areas. “Why am I getting punished like this.” She mumbled to herself before a woman appeared on her line of sight, Frankie’s eyes immediately squinting at the bright colors around here. It took her a moment to decipher them: a soft purple that swirled together with blue, tinges of black and red dancing around her, fast jerks pulling it as if something was trying to break loose from it, and her eyes widened in slight panic. She’d never seen an aura move that way. Quickly, she looked down to her bowl, pretending to be very, very interested in the Choco Puffs swimming in there, trying her hardest to ignore the damn bugs and the colors that were visible from the corner of her eye.

Marley had been hitting up Graham more and more lately, and though she didn’t mind, she also didn’t want to stop and think about why. Staying the night usually wasn’t her style, but he was a vampire, and his endurance definitely outlast hers. So here she was, waking up in a foreign bed, in a foreign house, next to a cold body. Anita was always cold, too, but Marley remembered how soft and warm she’d been when they’d woken up in her room together. Forcing the thought from her mind, Marley sat up and grabbed her shirt and a pair of random shorts, throwing them on before heading out into the living room for coffee. At least she could grab a cup here before heading home to change for work. But when she got into the kitchen, there was a girl sitting at the table. Blase as ever, Marley moved past her quickly and over to the coffee maker. “You’re uh-- the roommate, right?” she asked, pulling the mug out and filling it with water. Aside from pushing numbers on a microwave, making coffee was the only thing Marley knew how to do in a kitchen.

Frankie was stuffing her mouth with cereal in her lame attempt to ignore the woman that looked like she was wearing Graham’s clothes. Don’t judge them, she kept repeating in her mind, but the bugs screaming kept making her eyes move from the bowl to the hallway, and then back to the bowl, and then back to the hallway. To say she choked on the cereal when the other walked past her, the bugs suddenly screaming on her brain, was an understatement. Milk ran down her chin and she started coughing. It was moments like this when she wondered why God had punished and not made her a normal person with no anxiety and definitely with no abilities to read auras. “Uh-- Roommate, yeah, I am.” Are you the girlfriend? She wanted to ask, considering how often Graham had tried to kick her out because she was coming over. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she tried to continue eating, trying her hardest to ignore the weird ass sound. “I’m, uh, Frankie.”

The girl was...weird, to say the least. Choking on her cereal, averting her eyes-- it was clear she had some form of major anxiety, but that wasn’t Marley’s problem. She had no shame in her sex life, and she certainly didn’t believe in the fabled “walk of shame”. Sticking the pot back into the maker, she poured the grounds in and pushed the on button. “Well, nice to meet you, then, Roommate Frankie,” she said, leaning back against the counter. The girl was staring at her with wide eyes, even as she tried to finish her cereal and pretend she wasn’t staring. But Marley was an expert on human behavior, and she noticed everything. “You can call me Marley,” she finally said, tilting her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t worry, once my coffee is done, I’ll let you eat your cereal in peace.”

The kitchen floor was definitely not swallowing Frankie fast enough. Her cheeks quickly heated and turned a bright red, her whole body radiating embarrassment. “Just, uhm, just Frankie.” She had to admit how badass the other woman looked though, moving through the kitchen like she was the actual person living there and not herself; and in other circumstances, specifically in one that didn’t involve kinky bugs, Frankie would’ve found herself showing more interest in her. Her head nodded slightly, leaving her spoon fall on the empty bowl. “Nice to, uh, meet you.” Marley was awfully confident, and she wondered if she hadn’t realized how loud the sounds were, and that she could still hear them. Her eyes opened even wider if that was possible, and she shook both her hands in front of her. “Oh, no no no no, please, take your, uh, time. Rushed breakfasts suck.”

Marley idled for a moment. While she hardly had shame or guilt, she didn’t exactly interact with people-- or roommates of her fuck buddies-- all that often. Ff ever. Anita lived alone and Jane was, well...Jane. Pausing, she shrugged. “I don’t really eat breakfast,” she said, shuffling around. Whoever this Frankie was, Marley wasn’t sure she liked the way her eyes kept widening when she looked at her. But, Marley could remember being 18 and on her own, struggling in a world that wanted to beat her down and silence her. Everything was always loud and new and scary, even when you could turn invisible. And she doubted Frankie could turn invisible. “Graham is good to you, right?” she asked. “Cause I told him I’d kick his ass if he wasn’t.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” A mechanical response, though Frankie didn’t really mean it and understood that the most important meal wasn’t for everyone. Her grandmother usually skipped breakfast too despite her best efforts to bring her trays with bacon and eggs, and her loyal cup of tea. The question about Graham made her mouth form a perfect ‘o’, before she erupted in laughter. Her mind wrapped around all the text messages he sent her telling her to take care, to get home at a decent hour, and to not be a dumbass online. Though she sincerely doubted a normal person could take down a vampire, her words still warmed her up. “Oh, no, he’s great. I actually think he, uh, cares more than my actual dad. Thanks for the backup though.” Bugs or not, this Marley person seemed nice. She guessed you can’t judge a person by their kinks. “If he’s nasty to you I can help you kick his ass.”

“Eh, sounds fake to me,” Marley said in a blasé tone, shrugging. Then again, she didn’t 100% understand human diets, and she didn’t need to. It was their behavior she was concerned with, not their diets. Marley only needed to feed once or twice a week, it must’ve sucked to have to eat multiple times a day every day. Who had time for that? “Well, good,” she said, turning back towards the cabinets to rifle around for a mug. Didn’t quite know how to approach the dad comment, but it wasn’t her business, and she wasn’t going to pry. Mostly because she just didn’t care. “Oh, don’t worry about me, kiddo,” she said, finally finding the cabinet with the mugs in it and pulling one out. “I can handle shitty men. Though, for the record, Graham is on the less shitty end of shitty men,” she said in what she hoped was a teasing tone. Sometimes her voice made it sound serious. “I’m kidding, of course. He’s a good guy.” When he wasn’t accidentally biting you, she thought with a grin.

Both her elbows were resting on the table now, Frankie’s hands cupping her own face as she took a nice look at the woman’s aura when she wasn’t looking. It had been easy to grow accustomed to it; not thanks to the weird jumps that made her stiffen or shift on her seat in surprise, but because the colors weren’t nearly as bright as those of a normal person. The blue being the cause, definitely. Someone who keep things to themselves. Like the fact that she likes the sound of bugs to get off in bed. Her lips pressed together as she held in another laugh, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of her thought or what Marley had said, and looked away the second the other turned, her mind elsewhere, thinking about the screaming critters again. “Yeah he’s just has weird as fuck kin----- kicks.” Fuck. “H-His shoes are so weird, r-right??” Oh God. So much for not being judgemental.

Oddly, one of Marley’s biggest pet peeves had always been people who avoided eye contact. Now, of course, there was leeway for certain people, but when Marley looked back and Frankie quickly averted her eyes, Marley couldn’t help but feel a prick of annoyance. What was it about her that made her so jumpy? There was no way it she knew what she was or what she was capable of, just by catching her glance, unless Frankie could read minds. Maybe it was just because of the awkward implication this presented. Anyone who had a brain would know that the strange woman in your kitchen with your roommate’s pants on had probably fucked them last night. Marley was sure she’d feel awkward about that, too. And so, she decided to cut the poor girl some slack. “Weird shoes?” raised a brow. “Can’t say I’ve noticed that. He’s not usually wearing anyth-- shoes-- any shoes when I’m around. Cause, you know,” she shrugged, “we’re inside.”

If she had any cereal left, she would be choking on it for the second time in ten minutes. Once more, Frankie was wishing for the floor to swallow her whole. Or better yet, the ceiling suddenly crumbling and burying her forever. Her cheeks were red in embarrassment, and she sank on the chair, suddenly very interested in the pattern on the kitchen walls, the bugs continuing screaming almost as if they were mocking her in this whole scenario. “Right. No shoes. Cause uh, shoes are weird. Shoes are overrated anyways” It was then that the teen decided she would spend the night somewhere else every time Graham brought people over, definitely not ready to deal with random people, less alone do small talk with them. Grabbing the empty bowl, she awkwardly made her way to the kitchen sink to clean after herself, but as she got closer the screaming got as loud as when Marley had entered the room, and one eye twitching as she tried to ignore it. Except, she couldn’t anymore. “Hey so uhh can I ask you something?” She leaned against the sink, trying to keep a straight face but it was obvious how much she was struggling. “Do you, uhhh, like bugs?”

“Sup, ladies?” Graham’s voice arrived before he did and shortly after, the man casually strolled down the hall and into the living room, pausing on the other side of the island that separated the two rooms. He had the decency to put on his favorite pair of sleep pants but those were the only article of clothes that hung off his built frame. He was carrying three empty bottles that he set on the counter and glanced between the two of them, immediately picking up on the awkwardness in the room and he raised his eyebrows with entertainment. He hadn’t anticipated Marley being such a consistent partner in bed but he figured he was allowed to have his fun too. He didn’t… THINK they were that loud all the time. He had been really good about not biting too so he earned a nice night with someone who didn’t mind. “Talkin’ about me?” He asked mildly as he tried his damndest not to overhear their conversation as he lay on his back in his room previously.

“Sure, kid, what’s up?” Marley asked, grateful her coffee was finally done and that meant she could drink it fast and then get out of here. All this “stay the morning after” was beginning to make her itch. “Do I like--” she paused, raising a brow, but didn’t get to finish, as Graham’s voice chimed through the hallway and she was suddenly reminded about how vampire’s had super hearing. Frowning, she poured her cup and headed out of the kitchen. “Talk about you? Why would we? There’s so many more interesting things to talk about,” she said in a flat tone, but it was a tease, and the slight curve of her lips gave that away. “Like cereal. Right?”

Frankie’s head snapped when she heard Graham’s voice, and gave him a dead glare, eyes squinting and lips pressed together in a way that could only be understood as I’m gonna kill you. Why could she still hear the bugs if they were both in there? Were they in kahoots just to bother her? Marley had looked nice, but she could totally see the vampire convincing her to play a prank on her. “Big ego much?” Eyes moved to the woman as she left the kitchen, her features softening with her words. “Yeah- right. Cereal is way more interesting than you.” And your dumbass kinks. Which led her to... “Okay- I had it. Stop that.” Still leaning against the sink, she crossed her arms. “Marley you’re badass. Graham, you suck. Can you stop the bugs now? I don’t- I really don’t care and I wish I didn’t know what you guys…” Her hand made a vague gesture, her cheeks bright red in embarrassment. “Do in bed and shit but-- Keep it in the room? Please?” “It IS in the room!” Graham exclaimed with an emphatic shrug before anything else had time to mull around in his mind. “It’s always been in the room!” He looked between the two women again, wondering what had happened that turned him into the bad guy. He wasn't mad, mind, but kind of confused and a little hurt. “And yes, I DO suck, you know that.” He made a joke at his own expense, knowing full well both of them would understand. “But I’ve never had sex in this apartment anywhere but in my room-- at least with Marley.” He added hastily. “I don’t know what bugs you’re talking about but that ain’t me, sister.” He went around them to the fridge and opened it roughly, rattling the glass bottles in the door before realising he didn’t want anything dead. If anything, it was more to give him something to do. “I have no idea what you guys were talking about, I have no idea why I’m being put on blast and I have no idea how to fix it but y’all trippin’ if you think getting all mad at me is gonna fix whatever’s happening.”

“Woah,” Marley said, sipping her coffee evenly with an unchanging expression, “someone’s spicy in the morning.” This was exactly why she never did stay. Plus, things had gone pretty sour last time she’d stayed the morning with someone, despite the immediate events being nice. It just proved more to Marley why her old method was tried and true. She leaned up against the counter, raising a brow. “Hey, look-- I’m into some admittedly kinky shit, but bugs aren’t it. So whatever you heard, or are hearing, isn’t us, kiddo,” she said, giving a shrug before picking up her mug and taking another hearty sip. As much as she wanted to leave, she was curious, now to see where this conversation would end up. And to see if Graham really was mad about a little light teasing in the morning. Men could be so sensitive sometimes. It was hard reading Graham’s sudden outburst -not that she wasn’t used to them, especially since Layla had crashed with them-, considering Frankie was used to know exactly (or, well, almost) what people’s intentions were just by glancing their auras; and though normally she appreciated the vampire lacking one, it was situations like these that made her infuriated. Pointing an inquisitive finger at him, she pressed her lips together as if she was about to let hell loose on him, but Marley’s words made her stop and look at her. Aura same as before, not even the slightest change of color (and, sadly, it kept moving like it wanted to eat her or something), and it made Frankie wince and drop her hand. “Then why the hell do I hear cicadas screaming specifically every time you’re over?!” Eyes back on Graham, she squinted for a few seconds, before letting out a sigh. “FINE. Whatever. Let’s pretend the teen doesn’t hear the kinky ass bugs.”

"Bruuuuh," Graham closed the fridge with a lot more care. "I'm not doing a bit here. I have NO idea what you're talking about." His tone was mild, indicating that he also wasn't lying. "I don't hear bugs, I don't hear cicadas, I just hear a teenage girl getting all heated at two consenting adults for having-- a great time in his bedroom," The flare of emotion from earlier was gone; he was now speaking evenly. "Maybe it has to do with your, uh, synesthesia," That's what he had to call it around other people - it seemed close enough to how he perceived aura reading. "Maybe knowing that we're having sex sends your brain messages that psychosomatically associate the activity with sounds of cicadas," He explained, leaning against the counter casually as he absently chewed on the inside of his cheek. "In any case, don't be mad; just talk to me instead of assuming I'm fucking around with you," He chuckled. "If it's a problem then let's see how we can fix it or… At least mitigate it. Because I like having her over so that's not an option every time." It was Graham's turn to give Marley a look accompanied with a wink, almost as if to say 'sorry about my weird teenage roommate'.

“Relax, kiddo, no one’s accusing you of anything, but I’m kinda with him on this one,” Marley pointed out, still leaning against the counter with her coffee. “It was good,” she corrected, “it was a good time.” Great was perhaps pushing it a little. Not that it wasn’t, but she couldn’t just outright admit that. Great was, well-- someone she didn’t want to think about yet. “Synesthesia? Really?” she raised a brow, wondering if that was their code for “supernatural”. It made sense. Graham was a vampire, after all. A strange one, at that. Only made sense it’d be easier for him to live with another supernatural roommate. Normal humans were probably too tempting. “So what is it, really?” she asked, pushing away from the counter finally and stopping just shy of Frankie. “I’ve never heard of anyone that can hear things from people. See and feel, but not hear.”

Another groan left Frankie as she buried her face on her hands, before slowly dragging her down her face. Sure, she had gotten herself into that conversation, but that didn’t mean she wanted to know more about their sex life than she already knew. Graham’s words made her stop her dramatic outburst, though - if she could potentially hear buzzing from Regan for some reason, could Marley be the source of another sound? It… made sense, in a very insane way. Despite the colors being radically different, they both shared the fact that their auras had weird and scary movements she’d never heard before. “Oh shit.” She whispered, her full attention to Marley, ignoring the fact that Graham had practically outed her. Carefully and almost painfully slowly, she started moving towards the woman. “I, uh, I don’t know, I’ve never heard stuff before? Don’t move--” And why bugs on top of everything? Crap. He had, in a way, been right. The closer she got to her, the louder the screaming got to the point Frankie had to stop and take a few steps back from her to stop the feeling of bugs chewing on her brain, an uncomfortable and confused look on her face. “Uhh- okay-- So not- Not kinky sex bugs--” She turned to Graham looking like she was about to throw up. “Ithinkheraurasoundslikebugs?” “...Well, at east they aren’t kinky sex bugs,” Graham replied mildly, all things considered. “That’s kind of a problem, though... Why d’you think she sounds like bugs?” He asked more in general as though it were a prompt for a class to ponder. He looked over at Marley again; she didn’t seem like she gave off a bug vibe to him but then again, he hallucinated when he drank her blood-- Ooooh could he turn that into a cocktail? THAT’D be fun. Sorry, distracted, back to the topic at hand. “Let’s see… how could we solve this non-kinky bug conundrum,” He hummed, feeling his brow furrow slightly as he legitimately thought about it.”Oh! Have you tried headphones?” He asked.

“Wait, hold on, back up,” Marley said, shaking her head and setting her coffee down, watching as Frankie turned a steady eye on her. Focusing as if she were waiting for something to happen. Marley raised a brow, glancing between the two. “Did she say aura?” She looked back at Frankie, who looked as if she were either about to faint or scream, then over to Graham. “Is she an aura reader?” Because that, well-- that might be a problem. Marley didn’t need some extrasensory teenager knowing that she was a killer. Not that she knew entirely how aura reading worked, but she’d been warned before that aura readers could see into a person’s soul, that they could know if you’d taken a life willingly. And boy had Marley done that. “Headphones, really? That’s your suggestion? Wait-- do you hear auras?”

“No!...?” Could she? No, if Frankie could hear auras her grandma would’ve told her. Unless she couldn’t? No, it was ridiculous, auras could be seen, not heard. But then again Regan… Shaking her head, the human moved her hands in front of her as if cutting the air; a “enough is enough” gesture before pointed at Graham with both her indexes. “Not cool outing me like that.” And then, she turned towards Marley and did the same. “Yes, and your aura is scary as heck and I’m so sorry you sound like bugs for some reason cause you’re super cool.” Now where was her backpack when she needed to run. Never mind her bright pink clothing - she could deal with the embarrassment of running town in her pajamas better than.. whatever was happening in the room. “I don’t think headphones will work so just--” She jerked the front door open. “-- Just tell me next time you come so I can yeet.” And without waiting for a reply, she walked out and almost closed the door, but she opened it slightly, screamed “nice to meet you Marley”, and ran down the stairs before Graham could drag her back inside.

Before the vampire knew what had happened, the teenager said her piece then zipped out the door without even bothering to close the thing behind her. Graham’s blue-eyed gaze followed her, then looked sideways to Marley, giving a small half-shrug. “Sorry ‘bout that,” He half-heartedly apologized, sounding more like he accidentally bought the wrong type of chips. “She’s, uh… a little manic sometimes.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “For the record, I said synesthesia; she was the one that said ‘aura reading’.” He made sure to clarify. “She sure is sweet, though; we get along well because apparently vampires don’t have auras.” He added, going over to the fridge again and pulling out a bottle of water. “I, uh… get it if that kind of ruined the mood so I’ll do whatever you wanna do,” He said, taking a large swig of the bottle and looking to Marley for a lead.

Before Marley had much of a chance to say anything back, the young girl was bolting from the room, either out of embarrassment or anxiety. Your aura is scary as heck. For some reason, that statement ruffled her. Of course it was, it only made sense. Everything about Marley was scary. She was a monster, after all. But she didn’t like the idea that her aura was so transparent about it. About her. That someone could look at her and know and decide she was a monster without even understanding. She picked up her coffee and finished it off before glancing over at Graham. “She’s a teenager,” she replied evenly, “let her be manic sometimes. Life’s rough in this world as a teenager.” She looked down at the empty coffee cup, then to the open door, then to Graham. “You know,” she shrugged, coming over to him in the kitchen. Pretended to look at a watch that wasn’t on her wrist, “I think you’ll find my mood rather hard to ruin. I’ve got time for a quickie before work.” It was a good distraction, after all.

#p: graham #p: marley #breakfast at graham's #❪ ⋅ ⋆ —— ❛ para ❜ ❫#wickedswriting #// these three are gonna kill me one day

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themagicalreads · 5 years ago

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Unexpected Detour (Prompt)

I’M LATE I’M LATE I’M LATE. I KNOW. But here (ps, the italics worked on this one???):

“This is an automated distress message from Vault-Tec: Vault 101. Message begins: It feels like you left home a long time ago, but I know you're still out there. I just hope you're still alive to hear this. Things got worse after you left. The new Overseer is insane. If you can hear this, please stop looking for your dad and help save us. I changed the door password to my name. If you're hearing this, and you still care enough to help me, you should remember it. Message repeats.”

Rapunzel listened to the emergency frequency one last time before switching it off. She sat on a boulder just outside Megaton, gazing in the distance to where she knew Vault-101 lay. She couldn’t go back… Not after how she’d left things.

Not after she’d…

Please stop looking for your dad and help us. Merida’s voice replaced the empty sounds of Wasteland wildlife around her. Rapunzel and Merida had been best friends ever since she and her parents arrived at the Vault. Rapunzel hadn’t remembered much of anything from her childhood in the Wasteland. They were the first outsiders to their knowledge knew to enter a sealed Vault, and the only reason they were even let in in the first place was because the Overseer had been so desperate for a doctor, and her dad was the best of the best. She’d learned that no one left or entered any of the Commonwealth Vaults, because the outside world was much too dangerous—and it was, what with the raiders, and the enclave, and the mutations running freely about. But it was far from being uninhabitable as they’d made it seem in class. Megaton itself proved just that.

“Welcome. To. Megaton,” she heard the protectron say over the wind. “Friendliest. Town. Around.”

Rapunzel whipped her head back to see a caravan had approached the entrance. She’d come down from Galaxy News Radio for news, and a quick supply hunt at the Super Duper Mart on the way. She had a mission to do. But what if this was a bigger story than Tenpenny Tower’s failed attempt to detonate Megaton’s notorious bomb? Heck, maybe Tadashi, Vault-101’s scientist, might know how to finally diffuse it, making Three Dog’s original news source essentially worthless compared to this.

But despite all of the rational excuses Rapunzel found to follow Merida’s distress signal, she knew the underlying reason she wanted to go so badly was because she was curious to see how the people she’d grown up with had made out after her departure. She hadn’t even meant to leave that dreary morning. She’d expected to spend her life following Vault-101’s motto, we are born in the vault, we live in the vault, and we die in the vault. If dad hadn’t upped and run away without a word, that might very well have been her life. Though, she supposed the motto and she hadn’t exactly been on the brightest of terms when her mother gave birth to her in the Wasteland.

She’d met Three Dog, the anchor of Galaxy News Radio and one of her dads old friends, about a week after she’d run away from the Vault. He knew a lot about her past, something he let her know quite quickly. He knew she, her parents, and aunt Gothel had been born out here, in the Wasteland themselves. But he also knew it had been in a faraway place called Boston. He also confessed that he’d seen her dad pass by not too long after she showed up. After spending an entire day running around DC as him and his radio’s personal scavenger, he finally told her what mission her dad had been so set on.

And the truth scared Rapunzel to bits.

She shook her head for a few seconds, running a hand through her ponytail while she stared at the Pip-Boy on her other wrist. The caravan rolled past her on the dirt road. Rapunzel gazed at the two-headed brahmin with the heaps of luggage strapped to its back. They were most likely heading toward Springvale, the wreckage of a town just outside the Vault.

Rapunzel stood, shaking the dirt off of her pants. Merida was asking her to help. Her. Thing’s must’ve gotten pretty bad in the Vault after she’d escaped, then, if she was willing to reach out to her so easily. She looked back at Megaton with a sigh. Three Dog would understand that she couldn’t just walk away.

She never could.

***

M-E-R-I-D-A. Access granted, the keypad flashed before a hiss of air sounded and the now-familiar alarm started beeping. Oh so slowly, the gear-shaped door of Vault-101 pulled backwards and rolled itself open. Rapunzel wasted no time running inside before anyone could seal it back up but, to her utter surprise, there was no one in sight when she made it in. She hurried up the metal stairs and closed the door back up herself. She knew keeping it open was smarter in regards to keeping a quick escape route available if she found herself unwelcome, but she refused to risk another radroach infestation like her dad did when he left—or worse.

Rapunzel gripped the pistol at her hip as she slowly walked toward the door she knew would lead to her old home. Something felt off. It was too quiet.

Suddenly, the door slid open before her. Rapunzel gasped, yanking out her pistol for fire.

“Stop right there!” Officer Haddock exclaimed, crumbs still stuck to his chin. “How did you get in—? Wait,” he looked Rapunzel up and down in bewilderment. “It’s you. The Overseer ordered me to bring you to her if you ever came back.”

“Her?” Rapunzel questioned, Merida’s distress signal running through her head. “It’s nice to see you again, Officer Haddock, but could you tell me who, exactly, was chosen as Overseer after Dunbroch…” died. The word hung loosely in the air, too horrible to speak aloud.

Officer Haddock hiccupped a laugh. “Chosen really isn’t the word I’d use here.” He shifted the grip on his gun, glancing behind him. “Listen, Punzel,” he whispered. “I know who you are—sweet as doll, just like your parents were. But I’ll be honest, not a lot of people like you in the Vault no more. I’ll do you the same favour I did your dad—leave the Vault quietly and don’t get trapped inside our mess. No one’s gonna know you stopped by but me.”

It was a good offer, but Rapunzel shook her head. “I heard Merida’s distress signal. She was my best friend, I can’t just ignore her.”

Officer Haddock lowered his head as if this was exactly the answer he’d expected. “Your heart’s too big, kid. But go see her. And please, for the sake of me keeping my limbs—don’t let the Overseer see I let you through without bringing you to her, okay?”

“I won’t let her hurt you,” Rapunzel promised. Even though she and Hiccup Haddock had never been close friends, she could never bear the thought of him losing his father to her, too. Officer Haddock opened the door to the hall for her. The first thing she noticed when she reached the second floor were the barricades. The second, was how incredibly unorganized and unclean the Vault had become.

What in the world had happened here?

“And if it isn’t my little blondie.” A voice suddenly said. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Rapunzel whipped around to see a familiar Tunnel Snake leaning against a makeshift wall behind her. She scowled, despite the heat rushing to her cheeks, and crossed her arms. “I’m not yours, Jack.”

“Never said you were.” Jack lifted a dark brow. “But I gotta say, the Vault hasn’t been the same without you to play with.”

“You’re really calling you and your gang bullying my best friend playing?” Rapunzel exclaimed, an anger she only ever felt around him boiling through her heart. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, Jack DeLoria. You know that, right?”

Jack smirked. “Don’t take it too personally when I say the rest of the Vault doesn’t exactly share your opinion. Well, other than your crazy—”

“That’s because the rest of the Vault is scared of you!” Rapunzel interrupted with a sharp exhale. “I don’t understand why. You’re nothing but a terrified momma’s boy.”

Jack flinched slightly at her words, something she only slightly relished in. Rapunzel had saved her from getting chewed up by radroaches just before her escape. Jack himself had been the one to beg for her help, given his phobia of the giant critters. If she’d have stayed any longer, she might have been able to use it against him the next time he tried harassing she and Merida.

“How is she, by the way?”

“Fine.” Jack quickly shot out.

“Really?” Rapunzel questioned.

Jack suddenly couldn’t meet her eyes, almost making Rapunzel feel bad for pushing. “Let’s just say she decided she liked getting drunk a bit too much. Not someone I like being around.” He brightened, suddenly, as much as the leader of the Tunnel Snakes could. “Besides, I have other things to worry about. A lot of us here wanna get out of this hell hole. So, tell me, blondie, how’d you manage to get past Officer Haddock?”

Rapunzel shook her head, unable to believe how quickly he’d changed the topic. Was he really so detached from his emotions he couldn’t even talk about what happened with his own mom? Last Rapunzel had checked, Mrs. Deloria was the complete opposite of her son—kind, and warm. So what made her shift her dependence from constantly being around people to alcohol?

Suddenly, the rest of what Jack said registered to Rapunzel’s head. “You want to leave? Why?”

It was Jack’s turn now to cross his arms. He took a step closer. “And here I thought you weren’t as brain-dead as the others. We’ve always wanted to leave, the Tunnel Snakes and I. Now that the Vault’s in shambles, it’s our time to shine.”

“If you can get past Officer Haddock.” Rapunzel argued. “I’m guessing he doesn’t want his little boy wandering out into the dangerous Wasteland, huh?”

Jack shifted closer. “Ah, and there’s the smarts I know.”

“Shut it, Deloria.”

“So harsh!” Jack lay his hand flat against his chest. “You break my heart.”

Rapunzel cocked her head. “I wasn’t aware you had one. Good to know.”

A slow smirk found itself to Jack’s lips again, warning he was about to say something particularly irritable. “And why’s that? Punzel’s got the hot’s for Jack-y?”

Rapunzel groaned in annoyance, forcing herself to hold her stance even when she noticed how close Jack had gotten. “Where’s Merida?” She demanded, forcing the conversation back to the point. “I’m sure you’d know, considering you know everything.”

“Right I do.” Jack walked backwards, pulling the tension from Rapunzel’s stomach away with him. He waved her to the side. “Follow me.”

Jack led her inside the classroom, where the rest of the Snakes and Merida stood. “Look who I found wandering around,” Jack announced.

Merida’s piercing blue eyes shot to Rapunzel’s, filled with a thousand knives. Understandably, Rapunzel thought. She hadn’t meant for her father to die. “You got my message,” she said. “Good. About time you showed up, too. Gotta say, I thought you’d be too busy with your freedom to remember us, so believe me when I say I’m glad to see you.”

“I think you have my ego levels mixed up with Jack’s,” Rapunzel commented.

“Yeah?” Merida cocked her head. “Then prove it. Help us take down the Overseer, and leave this damned Vault. I still haven’t forgiven you for murdering my father, but I might consider it if you help us.”

“Mer,” Rapunzel tried. “You know it was an accident, right? Please, you know I would never—"

“Alright,” Jack interrupted. “Enough with the heart to hearts. Let’s go, yeah? Blondie, you come with me.”

“What?” Rapunzel shot. “I’m not going anywhere with you, thank you very much.”

“Oh, but you’re gonna like this,” Jack smiled dangerously, dangling a piece of rope in the air. “You get to tie me up and pull my gorgeous hair.”

Rapunzel scowled, glancing at the others to see if he was joking. “What are you going on about?”

“Your aunt wants the Tunnel Snakes taken down, and she wants you even more,” Merida explained, somewhat impatiently. She put a finger to her bright red hair, which was pulled tightly into a low bun. “You’re going to bring her to him, and put a bullet in her crazed head.”

Rapunzel flinched away from the group, astounded by the absurd demand. “Excuse me?” She said. Aunt Dame would never do such a thing to Vault-101. She’d not once expressed a desire to become the Overseer either—that position was to be Merida’s father’s until his old age.

“I don’t know why she’s so obsessed,” Merida said. “But I’m not leaving the Vault with her in charge.”

“Dame’s been nothing but kind!”

“A nice façade,” Hiccup said from behind Merida. “Fooled all of us.”

Rapunzel couldn’t believe it—wouldn’t until she saw it with her own eyes. So she grabbed the rope out of Jack’s fingers, spun him around, and wrapped his wrists up tight.

“The Wasteland’s done you good,” there was a hint of veiled humour in Jack’s tone as she let him go. He tested the rope’s hold, but it didn’t give. “If I would’ve known you were this feisty—”

Rapunzel grabbed a heap of chocolate brown hair and yanked him out of the room with her.

“You know, blondie,” Jack struggled. “You don’t actually have to pull my hair until we get to the Overseer’s office.”

“I know.”

Jack chuckled. “Can’t wait for you to tell me all about the Wasteland when we get outta here. I bet it’s good stuff.”

Rapunzel froze briefly. Did he honestly think she’d bring him back to Galaxy News Radio? Not a chance. If Jack wanted out so bad, he was going alone, with his precious Tunnel Snakes. “In your dreams.” She said.

“I don’t have dreams. Just reality.”

“Reality has a track record of getting awfully boring,” Rapunzel said. “Maybe that’s why you’re as horrible as you are.”

Suddenly, Rapunzel’s feet were swept right out from under her. She fell back into a room with Jack landing, (somewhat painfully), right on top of her. “You don’t really think that, do you, blondie?” His breath was so warm against her lips it sent shivers down her spine.

“I…” Was all she could manage before he started talking again.

“Because that would break my heart.” Rapunzel just had time to catch something dancing in his crystal blue eyes before his lips were upon hers. It was disgusting and wet the first few seconds, but then she found herself swimming in his kiss. He still couldn’t move his hands, so Rapunzel did it for him. She cupped his jaw, pulling the Snake closer and closer until everything disappeared but him.

She didn’t know why her body felt so compelled to ruin the moment.

“I’m resistant to the radiation!” She blurted out, shoving a hand to her lips. No one but her dad and Three Dog new that about her. It was why her dad had left in the first place—to study her. Though… Rumour had been going around lately about her situation, something that the radio had been trying hard to avoid talking about. The Saint. The ghoul that looks and talks like a human, but can’t possibly be.

Jack frowned, licking his lips. “And?”

“And,” Rapunzel continued, “that means I’m mutated. That I get to live longer than the average human. I’m a monster, even if I don’t look it like the other Ghouls. If the Wasteland knew it was me they’ve been hearing talk about…”

Jack rolled off of her, suddenly, something clicking in his eyes. “Of course!” He said. “That’s why Dame wants you so bad. She wants to know how you did it.”

Rapunzel sat up, sickness roiling through her body. “But she’s never known I was like this.”

Jack was shaking his head even before she started speaking. “Remember when she got put under lockdown? You were four, maybe.” How could she forget? “You visited her every day after class.”

Rapunzel nodded. “You made fun of me for it.”

“Yeah. Well, I read a paper in her files when you asked me to go steal yours. Said she’d gotten her well-deserved time out for sending a signal out to her sister and reading the ones that were coming in from the outside behind The Overseer’s back. She heard all of the stories about you. You and your parents showed up knocking at the door not too long after, and they actually let you in.”

Rapunzel nodded again. It was all she seemed to be able to do now. “You read the files about me.”

Jack shrugged. “Obviously.”

Rapunzel pushed his chest, furious. “I didn’t even read them! Dame just told me it was dangerous information that needed to be burnt away!”

“That didn’t make you wanna read em’ even more?”

“No!” Rapunzel closed her eyes. “I mean, yes, but she said it was safer for me if I didn’t know.”

Jack laughed. “Bull. Complete bull.” With a restrained swing, he pulled himself to standing. Rapunzel was quick to follow suit. Almost immediately, he nudged her shoulder with his own and pushed her against the steel wall, holding her with his hips. His kiss wasn’t nearly long enough. He completely pulled away, suddenly, and tipped his chin down with a smirk.

“Let’s go.”

Rapunzel slowly pushed her fingers through his hair and gripped. It only took a few words from Rapunzel to find out every suspicion Jack and his gang had about her aunt were true. It only took a carefully-placed bullet to the thigh to stop her from attacking her own niece. And it only took an inch of convincing for the dwellers to get the Wasteland freedom they’ve always deserved.

Though their fates were now irreversibly ripped to the open, Rapunzel knew one thing for certain:

Galaxy News Radio was in for one hell of a story.

#JackunzelFS20 #fallout3 #jackunzel au #rotbtd #fallout 3 crossover #jack frost #rapunzel #wattpad #butch x lone wanderer #jackunzel month #jackunzel fanfic

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Tabula Rasa [7/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/49466486

Blanket Disclaimer:

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn’t know and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn’t care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (Rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #soulmate aversion #secret identity

First Chapter

Author’s Note(s): In which as time passes, Jay's not having an easy time coping with all this soulmate stuff, and Tim's still trying to figure everything out. And Alfred is his usual awesome self.

________________________________________________________________

“Forget almost being assassinated, how did he not die just from tripping over something in the dark, or eating expired food?” Jason asks as he looks around the disaster zone that is Tim Drake’s apartment. There are takeout containers and empty coffee cups covering every surface, and clothing soiled with dirt and blood and what looks like sewer sludge strewn across the floor. Packaging and bubble wrap twist around the legs of tables and extension cables create startlingly effective tripwire traps. “Can’t you people afford a maid service?”

“Surely even you aren’t so thick that you don’t understand why that would be a bad idea,” Damian points out as he walks in behind him, carrying several large boxes from the local hardware depot. As he deposits them, he surveys the apartment with something more like horror than disgust. “This is the residence of the man my grandfather considers his equal?”

“He’s not usually this bad,” Dick says with a sigh as he closes the door behind him with one hand and deposits his own burden of packages. His eyes rove across the open concept living area with a worried expression. “I was here like three weeks ago and it was spotless. I mean, his room was a disaster zone, but that’s just Tim. Messy genius, you know?”

“If this is how he lives, perhaps the social workers are correct that he needs a more qualified minder.”

Dick ignores that. “I don’t get it. It’s like he just gave up. What the hell happened?”

Jason remains quiet; he has a nasty suspicion he knows exactly what made Tim stop caring.

Whatever, I’m making up for it now, aren’t I? In fucking spades…

He’s been avoiding Tim’s apartment for weeks now, stubbornly squatting in different buildings every night or shelling out for a motel when he wants an actual bed or shower. But the last few days he found several itching bites on his skin, and hell no. He swore when Bruce took him in, he was done with bedbugs and lice and any other critter that can be found in questionably cleaned bedding.

As luck would have it, Dick was on his way over here with Damian to install handicap bars in Tim’s bathroom and check the place over for any other chores or tasks that needed doing.

“I still don’t see the point of that,” Jason says, nodding at the boxes of tools and components. “In what universe do you see B letting Tim leave the manor any time in the next year or so? Even when he gets his memories back.”

“It’s a compliance thing,” Dick informs him. “Now that Tim’s making actual strides in recovery, social services will be coming at some point to check that everything is set up for his rehabilitation if he chooses to come here. If it’s not done, it won’t look good.”

“That chick’s still pushing this?”

“Oh yeah. She keeps coming up with new requirements she insists be filled. Independent psych evaluations, bi-monthly physicals performed by state doctors—she even wants him to attend mandatory rehabilitation at some government facility in Blüdhaven.”

“What? Why there?”

“Aside from the fact Gotham’s mental health infrastructure is riddled with the criminally insane?”

“Fair…”

“Babs looked into her and it looks like Bruce had the right idea. Gillian Sato’s a nobody. Completely average in everything, trying to make a name in her department by going after a big fish. And you know that Bruce has been CPS’ great white whale since he took me in. You too.”

“I remember,” Jason says with a scowl.

It was shortly after he was taken in by Bruce. He had just started as Robin, was beginning to see Bruce and Alfred as family and the manor as home. And then some do-gooder social worker with the ‘best intentions’ and a dislike of Brucie Wayne exploited a technicality that let her remove Jason from the Wayne household. The next weeks and months dragged Jason through such an emotional wringer that his already abundant trust issues increased by orders of magnitude. Even before he and Bruce started to butt heads later, Jason would never truly be at ease in the manor ever again.

Or anywhere, really.

People let you down. People left. People could be taken away from you. These were the facts of life, and Jason vowed never to forget them again.

It’s yet another reason he’s so resistant to the idea of soulmates. Having one just makes it easier to be let down or to have them taken away. Hell, he’s seen that firsthand, hasn’t he? A simple errant bullet and he almost had to watch his die. He can’t even imagine what this whole ordeal would feel like if he was close to Tim.

Lost in his thoughts, it takes him a moment to realize Dick is still talking.

“…her higher-ups barely know anything about her. Most of them are willing to let this thing with Tim go, but she’s the one who keeps pushing it. Poking for loopholes whenever she hits a new roadblock.”

“So have Barbie make her go away,” Jason suggests.

“And give support to the idea Bruce Wayne is above the law because of his money?” Dick challenges. “That would put a lot more attention on the issue than anyone wants. For now, we just play it the legal way. Once Tim’s eighteen, she’ll have lost a major avenue to exploit.”

“Which means you guys have to put up with her trying to wrap you in red tape for the next four months at least.”

“This is ridiculous,” Damian mutters.

“I know.”

“Not that—although yes, this farce of legal compliance is a waste of everyone’s time. But I’m talking about how no one has done anything about Drake’s condition other than wring their hands.”

“Excuse me?!”

“If we’re ever going to go on with our lives, he must be fixed, and faster than some useless stretching is going to do.”

“Kid, how exactly do you think your dad got back to fighting condition after Bane broke his back?” Jason questions. “‘Useless stretching’ was a big part of it.”

“And a hell of a lot of drive,” Dick adds. “Which Tim doesn’t really have enough of right now. I mean, I know he wants to get better, but it’s not the same as if he knew who he was.”

“Exactly. He would already be walking, I’m sure,” Damian nods. “Then you’re in agreement with me.”

“Well, yeah—wait. What am I agreeing with?” Dick asks, suspicious.

“Through my observations of the situation, I have determined that Drake is unlikely to ever regain full functionality or his memory. The easiest way to fix this would be a Lazarus Pit. I happen to know of one in Cuba.”

“Holy no Batman!” Dick cries. “Did you forget what happened when I tried doing that for Bruce?”

“It would be different in this case, since we know for sure that it’s Drake and not a decoy,” Damian argues. “At least, the body bit. And Todd recovered from brain damage thanks to the Pit.” He considers Jason. “Well. More or less. I did not know you before, therefore I have no basis of comparison.”

“And you also missed the murderous rampage that happened afterward,” Jason growls. “Not being able to control yourself sucks. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Even Tim.

Especially not Tim.

“If anyone possesses the ability to fight off the effects of the Lazarus Pit, it’s Drake,” Damian insists. “He does not have the same latent anger or violent tendencies as Todd’s files say he had.”

“Hey, stay the hell out of my business!”

“Tim might not be as violent as Jason is or was—”

“Screw you, Dickhead.”

“—but he definitely has the capacity for anger. And as it is, he suffers from severe depression,” Dick informs them soberly. “To the point where he’s considered suicide at least once in the past.”

Damian and Jason’s eyes snap to his face.

“What?” Jason demands.

“That was not in his file.”

“Because he didn’t want it there,” Dick tells them, weary. “In case someone tried to use it against him.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of fucking important to people know about?” Jason demands. “Especially if they have to go out in the field with him?”

He’s having a sudden flashback to the night when everything came out into the open, when he swooped in to save Tim from a fall that he should have been able to divert himself.

Shit. What if that wasn’t an accident like I thought?

“We all have things in our history we don’t want in the files,” Dick reminds them, his face becoming hard for a moment as if he’s remembering something. Then he shakes it off. “Tim’s been dealing with it. He’s on medication, he reaches out when it gets bad…but it’s an ongoing process. I don’t need to tell you guys that.”

“If he didn’t want anyone knowing, he’s going to be pissed you tattled.”

“I’m only speaking up so Damian understands what a bad idea it would be to put Tim in a Lazarus Pit. Depression on top of Pit madness? I don’t want to even think about what he might do.”

Not to mention bringing him anywhere near where Ra’s might pop up is asking for trouble, especially since he can’t fight him off right now.

“So, you are insisting on this waiting nonsense,” Damian concludes, looking frustrated.

“It’s all we can do for now, Little D.”

The kid’s expression remains stormy.

⁂

Damian strides into Tim’s bedroom one morning, wearing a determined expression and followed by his gigantic dog, Titus.

Tim feels a little wary, not so much because of the intimidating canine, but because his younger brother rarely comes near him voluntarily.

“I have read in numerous medical journals the benefits of animal companions in increasing the likelihood of recovery from traumatic brain injuries,” he announces. “Since Father is adamant, we are not getting another dog, I have decided to allow you to spend time with Titus while I am engaged in my studies. I am confident it will contribute to improvement in your condition.” He gestures at the dog. “Titus, stay with Drake. I shall collect you later.”

Then he nods to himself, as if concluding business, and leaves the room.

Tim stares after him, utterly bewildered at the turn of events. Titus watches the boy go, whines for a moment, and then looks over his shoulder at Tim, head cocked to one side as if wondering what that was all about.

All he can do is shrug, which he feels ridiculous about a moment later because Titus is a dog and has a limited understanding (even if Damian speaks to him as if he’s a human being). Still, a beat later, the dog wanders over to Tim’s bed, and rests his head upon the mattress, gazing up at Tim with curious eyes, his tail wagging somewhat.

Slowly, Tim reaches out with his right hand and places it on the dog’s head, causing the tail-wagging to speed up, and scratches him behind the ears.

Titus thus becomes a semi-permanent element of Tim’s recovery process. Damian comes by every morning to drop the dog off as if he’s a parent leaving a child at daycare or school and leaves for several hours. Titus then goes to Tim for obligatory head-pats and only lets up when it becomes clear Tim’s energy is flagging. Even then, he doesn’t go anywhere, simply curling up beside Tim’s bed. When Damian returns, he pokes his head in, nods again, and gestures for the dog to depart with him.

The whole situation is bizarre, but Tim thinks it’s the way Damian expresses worry.

Having Titus around has the added benefit of intimidating Gillian Sato whenever she comes for one of her ‘visits’. Jay can’t always make it there before she does, and she somehow manages to insist on meeting with Tim privately to avoid bias (which he doesn’t understand). Those visits when Jay isn’t present are as short as possible to comply with her wishes, but they’re long enough that Tim is always exhausted and confused at their end. With Titus there, he’s at least a bit more comfortable; the dog appears to sense when his anxiety is climbing or when Ms. Sato says something that makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s rather concerning, Timothy,” she tells him in a voice meant to be kind. “Considering all the resources Mr. Wayne has at his disposal, that he insists you recover here. Instead of in a facility specifically created to rehabilitate TBI patients. It’s almost as if he’s trying to keep you here under his watchful eye.” She leans forward, expression worrying. “You want to get better as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Before Tim can try to parse out exactly what she’s asking him (because he knows somehow the words don’t match her intention), Titus hackles raise, and he begins to growl.

Almost that same instant, Alfred will sweep in and declare that Tim is quite tired today, perhaps they can continue this interview some other time?

Tim wonders if he isn’t standing at the door eavesdropping, even though somehow, he can’t reconcile that image in his head.

Depending on the time of day that Ms. Sato arranges her ‘visit’, the family member that sits with him changes. He much prefers when it’s Jay—he’s the only one whose presence helps Tim calm down quickly after such an interview—but he’s learning to appreciate and trust everyone else in his family.

He’s come a long way since waking up in the hospital and seeing nothing but a bunch of strangers.

Bruce continues to make efforts to spend time with Tim when he wakes up in the mornings. In addition to the sudoku and crossword puzzles, which Tim has started trying to do himself in his spare time, Bruce has started playing other games with him. First Go Fish, and later Memory.

They were games suggested by Dr. Thrussell to help with Tim’s mental rehabilitation, but it turns out playing with Bruce is fun. His expression is awfully serious for what Tim knows are simple children’s games, but he always becomes exceedingly pleased when Tim makes a correct guess.

Dick, who Tim has learned from Alfred is a police officer, is not always around due to his work shifts being somewhat irregular, but when he is, he goes out of his way to help Tim with whatever he might need. It’s both touching and overwhelming; Tim likes Dick, but he feels the same amount of mental exhaustion when he leaves as he does when Ms. Sato does.

How does one person have that much energy?

His favorites besides Jay, are Cassandra and Stephanie.

Steph is nice, as well. She’s affectionate with him, has a good sense of humor, and unlike everyone else who seems wary about touching Tim beyond helping him groom himself or for physio, she’s very tactile.

And she smells nice.

He feels a level of comfort with her that is like when he’s with Jay, which he supposes is because they used to date before she and Cass discovered they were soulmates. Perhaps it’s why he doesn’t question her presence in his life the way he still does sometimes with Bruce or Dick or Damian.

And then there’s Cassandra, who’s just…amazing.

Because she’s like him, somehow.

There’s intelligence in her eyes, but she has trouble getting the words out just like he does. When she sees him struggling with his brain to mouth disconnect, she looks empathetic and he knows it’s not pity or guilt.

The latter is a look he’s started to recognize in Jay, and he doesn’t like it.

He wonders if whatever makes him look like that is the reason he doesn’t get along with the rest of the family. He wishes he could ask, though he suspects even if he could, he wouldn’t get a straight answer.

He’s not sure if that’s normal for this family, or if it’s just another attempt to keep from upsetting Tim. Ever since he started to improve, everyone seems to be wanting to keep him occupied and entertained. Sometimes it’s fun—like today, with Steph egging him on while playing Candy Crush—and other times, it’s just…

Exhausting.

His convalescence aside, Tim has noticed there are times when he feels exhausted and strained for reasons other than his injury. He doesn’t know where those feelings come from, just that he dislikes them.

⁂

One evening, a little over three months following the shooting, Jason shuffles into the manor and wonders how this became routine for him.

It should worry him; how easy it’s been to slip back into the habit of being greeted by Alfred. Into toeing off his boots in the entrance closest and loitering in the kitchen to see if there’s anything left over from lunch or dinner.

It’s deceptively simple to fall into the mental trap of calling this place home again, which is why he never lets himself stay longer than a few hours. Even when Alfred keeps offering to make up a guest room or tries to tempt him with homemade scones for breakfast the next morning.

(He can’t go near his old room, the mausoleum to shattered dreams and stolen childhood.)

Jason’s usual arguments against that are quieter right now, his mind on what Damian said the other day: that no one is trying to help Tim.

In the strictest sense, the sentiment is bullshit; everyone in the Family has been bending over backward trying to make his rehabilitation priority, to protect him from two-faced social workers and asshole paparazzi looking for a story. But there’s been no headway on the shooting, and he wonders if anyone else but him is still looking into it.

Which is stupid, because he knows for a fact that Bruce is a dog with a bone and won’t let any case go, let alone one where his kid got hurt.

So why hasn’t he found anything yet?

He knows from experience, both as Robin and Red Hood, that some cases take longer than others. Bruce spent an entire year investigating the Holiday killings before Jason got involved, and during their years together there were several ongoing cases that dragged for weeks and months before a break could be made.

There are some that remain unsolved to this day.

But this is Tim, you’d think he’d be more motivated. Unless…

Unless he has found something and just doesn’t want to share it because he thinks Jason’s going to go on a vengeful, murderous rampage.

He clenches his fists.

It wouldn’t be the first time that Bruce kept something from him or anyone else if he’s on a case he’s decided is his. He even keeps Dick out of the loop on stuff like that, and he’s the golden child.

Jason’s probably just being paranoid.

Except…

Except he learned paranoia from the best, and that paranoia isn’t always just paranoia, and if Bruce thinks he’ll react badly to something, of course he’s going to keep it from him. Which means they’re going to have a problem because this case isn’t going to get solved if they can’t share important information.

Instead of heading toward Tim’s bedroom, Jason changes course and makes a beeline for the Cave entrance in the study.

He reaches the bottom of the staircase just in time to see Nightwing and Robin peel out of the garage on two bikes. A cowl-free Batman is hunched over the computer, looking up something on the main screen, while the ones off to the sideshow various CCTV feeds from the Narrows, Tricorner and Burnley.

He catches flashes of Black Bat and Signal in the latter two, and scowls.

“I should be out there.”

“That’s not your concern right now,” Bruce replies without even turning around. “You should be upstairs with Tim.”

There’s a derisive snort at that, and Jason glances over to see Blondie balanced on her own bike, adjusting her hair beneath her cowl.

“Problem, Bat-chick?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothin’.”

“Just seems like certain people are easier to forgive than others.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce warns, still not looking at either of them.

“No, it’s fine,” she replies. “Let’s keep tiptoeing around the giant pink elephant in the room. And by giant pink elephant, I mean crime lord.”

“That what you’re goin’ with?” Jason challenges. “You’ve been stewin’ on that for three months, and you’re gonna give me grief over bullshit that’s over and done with?”

“Clearly it’s not over and done with.”

“If you’ve got a problem with me, strap on the steel tits and own up to what it’s really about.”

“Okay, fine!” Blondie hops off the bike to march forward, stopping a good foot away from him and shoving a finger at him. “You might be his soulmate, but don’t think that gets you off for all the crap you’ve pulled. Especially since you’ve known this whole time.”

“What I know or knew is none of your business. But if you really want to have a competition about who hurt him most, my name ain’t the only one on the list.”

“Are you seriously trying to pull the ‘everyone else did it too so it’s okay’ defense?”

“No, I’m telling you to be careful in that fragile fucking glass house of yours.”

“Speaking of houses, how long are you going to keep playing house with Tim before you break his heart again? Are you going to do it right when he gets his memories back, or wait a few days for him to adjust and then drop him?”

“You think I’d be that big an asshole?”

“I know you’re that big an asshole. And so did Tim,” she shoots back, merciless. “He told me you were dead.”

“I was dead.”

“And then you weren’t. And he still always told that to anyone who asked. He knew whatever this is with you, it was never going to happen, but it also wasn’t going away. So, he was trying to move on. And if he’s smart—which we all know Tim is, memories or not—he’ll stick to that gut feeling. Because the longer he’s involved with you, the more hurt he’s going to be when you inevitably break his heart. If you were any kind of decent, you’d get the hell out of his life before he finishes imprinting on you like a baby chick.”

“That’s enough,” Bruce says, and this time he does turn around. “Stephanie, patrol.”

“I’m going,” she replies. “But not because you told me to.”

She stalks toward her bike, and after a few angry revs of the engine, speeds off out of the cave.

Bruce is still looking in Jason’s direction; he can feel the frown. “Provoking her isn’t helpful to anyone, least of all Tim.”

“What argument were you watching?” Jason shoots back. “If anyone’s provoking anyone else, it’s her. And I’m telling you now, B, if she wants a fight, I’ll give it to her. I’m putting up with enough crap because of this soulmate thing, I didn’t sign on to let Timbo’s pissed off ex-girlfriend take shots at me.”

“The lack of evidence in this case is frustrating everyone.”

Jason gives him a disbelieving look—there’s no way that Bruce can be so emotionally stunted that he can’t figure out what Blondie’s little tiff was all about.

Then again…yes, he is.

Rather than stew over Blondie’s accusations (and the fact that she’s got more of a point than he’d like), Jason decides to focus on what Bruce actually said.

“So you haven’t found anything on your end, either?”

He leans against the giant computer, keeping a conspicuous distance between him and Bruce, and trying not to feel awkward and naked without his helmet on. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he was down here and not in uniform.

“No.”

“Really. Nothing? Not a single goddamn clue? This is all just some random person that decided to take the kid out?”

“It’s not the first time someone has attempted to assassinate Tim.”

“Yeah, but I heard about that, it was all planned for. This wasn’t.”

“Hence the continued investigation.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no way you’ve been on the case this long and haven’t found something.”

Bruce is quiet for a moment and then nods. “Based on the lack of available evidence, whoever did this was a professional. Elite even.”

“No shit. We knew that from Day One.”

“I’ve since narrowed down a list of suspects from around the world, who have the capability of pulling this off.”

“And?”

“And they’re all either accounted for or dead.”

“So why do you look more constipated about this than usual? You’ve had harder cases with less evidence.”

“Almost all of these snipers were trained by David Cain.”

The name makes Jason tense. “He’s dead.”

“Yes. But before he died, he mentioned something to me. That there were others.”

“Others like Cass, you mean.”

“Hn.”

Jason grits his teeth. “So, your theory is some designer assassin Child o’ Cain decided to come to Gotham just to shoot Tim?”

“It’s not a theory. Just a possible connection. There’s too little evidence to support it.”

“Then what the hell are you spending the time on it for?” Jason demands. “If we’re going for wild conspiracy theories, why not an alternate universe or time travel? It’s just as easy to speculate someone came back in time to assassinate Tim or put him out of commission for whatever reason.”

“I won’t discount those theories either,” Bruce allows, because of course. “But in either situation, anyone coming here for Tim specifically would likely be enhanced to survive whatever means brought them here.”

“Or it’s one of us.”

Bruce doesn’t meet his gaze, but there’s a subtle tensing of his shoulder muscles.

“I saw that,” Jason points out quietly. Bruce says nothing. “You think it would be me, don’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“If it were one of us, I’m the best marksman, so if it were anyone of ours to come back and put a bullet in his head, it’d be me.”

Bruce stands then, agitated. “You’re jumping to conclusions and letting your feelings cloud your judgment. This is only one of many theories, not even the one that’s most likely—”

“Except we both know that ain’t the case!” Jason snarls. “You know as well as I do, I’m probably the reason he got shot in the first place!”

“Jason—”

“I did this, B! I was in the middle of a pissing contest with some asshole moving in on my turf and Tim got caught in the crossfire. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself!”

“You did not cause Tim to be shot,” Bruce snaps.

“That’s not what you thought when it happened,” Jason reminds him bitterly.

“And I’ve since revised my opinion. I don’t believe this to be related to the contract that was put out on Red Hood.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a totally glowing recommendation!”

“Whoever is after you obviously isn’t aware of your civilian identity, or they would still be pursuing you,” Bruce replies. “Going underground would only keep you safe for so long, and it’s been months. Whoever is targeting you may have been watching Red Hood, but they weren’t watching you. Therefore, the likelihood of Tim’s shooting having anything to do with your activities is low.”

“Seriously? That’s your explanation?”

“Jason,” Bruce sighs, and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture of exhaustion. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t think you’re responsible for this. Why are you fighting me on it?”

“Because nothing is ever that easy with you! And you’re usually the one driving the ‘Jason messes everything up’ bandwagon. Don’t tell me that’s changed all because I happen to be the kid’s soulmate.”

“That has nothing to do with it. I’ve already explained my reasoning, and it’s enough for me at the moment.” He fixes Jason with a calculating look that he doesn’t like. “The question is, why are you so determined to make it your fault?”

Jason opens his mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in his throat as he realizes he has no idea how to answer that.

Bruce continues. “Your behavior is inconsistent.”

“Hell, yes, it’s inconsistent! It’s been months and I still have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to deal with all of this!”

“Perhaps you should take some time,” the older man replies, turning his attention back to the computer. “Away from here.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “Away from Tim, you mean.”

“He’s at the point where he is no longer uncomfortable with the rest of us, and you did make it clear that you only intended to stay by his side until his condition improved. I’m sure with some explanation you could take some time. It might help.”

“You just…that’s not even…”

Jason falters, not sure how to respond, because really, this is his get-out-of-jail-free card. He did say he was only going to stick around until Tim was doing better, and the kid is doing better. He can get back to his search for the dick that got him to go to ground, can get back to living his life the way he wants it and not based around a convalescent’s schedule.

But the idea of it just now, makes him feel queasy, like he’s running a dirty deal.

And on top of that, it bothers him that while Bruce is certain he’s not responsible for Tim’s injury, he still obviously has an issue with the fact they’re soulmates.

It shouldn’t bother him.

It absolutely should not bother him.

And yet.

“You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” he snaps, and heads right back up the stairs, mind racing and unable to settle on a single conflicted thought.

Upon reaching the study he finds Alfred on his way in, a tray of tea and sandwiches in hand. The older man takes one look at him and purses his lips, and puts down his burden.

“From your expression, I suspect Master Bruce will be sulking too much the rest of the evening to be interested in dinner.”

“Like I care,” Jason grunts, slamming the false front of the clock entrance closed.

“Were that the case, you would not be damaging the furniture.”

Jason scowls, though it’s somewhat tempered when Alfred offers him the sandwiches he was obviously about to bring down to Bruce.

He takes a petty satisfaction in polishing off every bit of food and tea while Alfred pretends to busy himself with tidying the already pristine study. Although he’s clearly remaining nearby should Jason need him, he doesn’t try to force a conversation.

How does he always know…?

Jason surprises himself when he’s the one to break the silence. “Why the hell does this soulmate shit have to be so complicated? Everyone else just gets it, and I just want to jump out of my fucking skin because it’s making me crazy.”

For once, Alfred doesn’t comment on his language.

“As I understand it, you have never had another person with whom you could confide about this before. You had not manifested your mark when you first came to us, and Master Bruce does tend to avoid matters of the heart and soul except when necessity requires it.”

Jason grumbles, “No kidding.”

It’s not just now, either.

Years back, Bruce got through the sex talk with his usual emotionless, detached aplomb, but didn’t bother with any of the other stuff. Jason would have thought the guy had no heart at all, except he saw how invested he got with the women in his life that mattered.

“And I would imagine discussing it with Mr. Harper and Ms. Anders has not helped, given the substantial difference in circumstances.”

“You got that right…”

“Then perhaps I might offer my own understandings if only to provide another perspective.”

Jason shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like anyone else cares, other than to look like I kicked a puppy whenever I’m in the room with Tim.”

“It has always been my belief that one’s soulmate is the person who will have the most impact on one’s life.”

“So why isn’t mine the Joker?” Jason shoots back spitefully.

“As if that creature ever had a soul,” Alfred scoffs.

“I’m just sayin’, your logic’s flawed.”

“And if you think a homicidal clown gets to claim to be the biggest impact on your life, I wash my hands of you. Do you realize you are scarcely 21 years old? You have an awful lot of life ahead of you to have that one moment, traumatic as it was, to define all of it. Perhaps in those first few months or years following the incident, yes. But you have a future, Master Jason. Soulmates are not just for the moment, but for the breadth of your lifespan. And however much strangeness we see on a regular basis in this world of ours, none of us have the ability to discern the future.”

“Except maybe Duke.”

“Except perhaps Master Duke,” Alfred allows, his mouth twitching somewhat. “But even that only comes in flashes. He cannot know it all. And neither can you.”

“Is that your convoluted way of telling me ‘chin up’?”

“That is my convoluted way of telling you that you are not the only person to find the matter of soulmates difficult to navigate. And no one—not even Master Bruce—is expecting you to figure it all out right away.”

Jason snorts. “You sure about that?”

Alfred simply raises an eyebrow as if insulted by his pearls of wisdom being questioned, and Jason raises his hands in surrender.

Never question Alfred. He knows everything.

Still, he suspects that Bruce will be getting a rather pointed talking-to in the near future. It makes him feel marginally better about the whole thing.

“Now,” the older man continues in a businesslike tone, “Timothy is in the family room this afternoon. However, I would understand if you do not feel up to seeing him today and would be perfectly willing to make an excuse for your absence should you require it.”

Jason almost accepts the out, but then remembers Bruce making a similar suggestion—albeit with more suspect motives—and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he sighs. “Knowing Timbers, he’s been waiting up all day. Least I can do is say 'hi'.”

“Indeed,” Alfred agrees neutrally, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests approval.

As long as no one else decides to ambush me with their emotional crap today, it should be fine, Jason decides, leaving the study and wandering down the hall.

⁂

Tim is sitting in the family room watching Arranged.

He spends most of his time there, either alone or with whatever member of the family is still at home that day. After so long being practically bedridden, he’s desperate to be anywhere that’s not his bedroom.

Alfred wheels him out into the gardens whenever it’s not raining or damp or windy (which, being May, it almost always is), and he’s since enjoyed the sun on his face for the first time that he can remember. He also got to experience his apparent first sunburn, because it seems his skin is notoriously sensitive.

Worth it though, to be outside.

He shifts, sitting up on the couch in front of the large television. He’s surrounded by a staggering number of blankets and pillows; Tim’s not even sure he really needs them to support him anymore—he’s been sitting up on his own for a while—but Alfred insists it’s better safe than sorry.

Titus is lying on his feet, dozing but alert. Tim’s wheelchair stands beside the couch, with Alfred the Cat (Damian seems to not have much imagination when it comes to pet names) curled up on the seat. Occasionally he opens one eye as if to check on Tim, and then returns to sleep.

He’s not a bad recovery-cat, I guess.

On-screen, Cordelia de Vere and Bertram Montmorency get to know one another and discover they actually get along, being of complementary temperaments. They have undeniable chemistry and their dialog is full of witty diatribe and veiled insults that he can’t help enjoying. It’s much more interesting than what Cordelia had with her soulmate, which he agrees with Jay about. Tim’s not sure if it’s a better match than Bertram and Maurice, who the prince continues to see in secret. Meanwhile, Gerald seems to be getting along just fine, joining the army and vowing to build himself up to meet the standards of Cordelia’s parents. He doesn’t actually seem outwardly bothered by her absence, except for several sequences of him writing her love letters.

“Never mind a bullet, this is the kind of crap that gives you brain damage,” a voice informs Tim, amused and somewhat mocking as usual.

Tim’s eyes snap instantly to Jay as he appears in the room, and he feels a smile break out on his face.

“Hi.”

It’s one of the words he’s been working on in therapy and can finally say it without having to mentally or actually hum through a children’s nursery rhyme song. It gives him a thrill of accomplishment, albeit one that pales at the thrill when Jason’s eyes widen in surprise, and then something that Tim imagines might be pride.

“Hi back,” he replies and glances around the room. The car glares up at him like he expects him to question or end his occupation of the space, but Jason simply throws himself down on the nearby easy chair—it’s the only piece of furniture free of pillows and blankets—and squints at the television. “I can’t believe you’re still watching this.”

Tim snorts and shoots Jason a wry look, mentally telegraphing his thoughts. And what are you doing right now?

“Don’t give me that, I’m humoring the invalid.”

“Uh-huh,” Tim grunts.

“That’s a lot of sarcasm for someone who can’t manage actual words yet.”

Tim doesn’t take Jason’s abrasive comments as an insult. Along with Steph, he is the only one that doesn’t try to coddle him. He talks to Tim the same way he talks to everyone else, which, like he’s equal to them even though his brain is making things hard for him right now.

Still, the reminder of his lack of verbosity directly on the heels of his recent accomplishments strikes something in Tim, something like annoyance. Something that suddenly wants to prove a point.

He frowns in effort, trying to line up thoughts and words and the movement of his mouth.

“This is seriously predictable,” Jason complains. “Obviously the writers are trying to set it up that he shows up again and sweeps her off her feet. Then the rich boy goes back to his boyfriend and watching all this is a total waste of time.” Tim doesn’t respond, and Jason glances over at him to gauge his reaction. Only to notice now that Tim is watching him instead of the show, mouth turned downward in a frown. “What?”

Tim’s lips part, then purse, and he makes a kind of humming noise in his throat, closing his eyes in concentration. He takes a deep breath and then utters a sound.

“Ju…jjuh…juh-ay…”

He blinks, somewhat surprised by himself. Jason seems to echo it. “Did you just…?”

Tim’s mouth quirks upward and he feels almost smug. Then, he slowly sounds out the word again. “Ja-ay.”

It’s slow and stilted, and his voice is raspy from disuse, but it’s there, decrying his enforced muteness.

Jay is sitting up ramrod straight now. “Holy shit, you’re trying to talk.”

The naked awe on his soulmate’s face makes him feel warm, and so Tim plods onward, ignoring the way sweat breaks out on the back of his neck or the way he feels a little dizzy.

“Th…than…kyuu…”

Jay’s expression appears to shutter, awe becoming confusion. “Uh…for what?”

“Sa…say…” Tim is panting a bit from the effort now.

“Hey, forget it, don’t push yourself,” Jason implores him, sitting up and making a pacifying gesture. “Three words is enough progress for—”

“Say-ved,” Tim interrupts doggedly. “Safe. Me. Heard…duh…di…Dick…say. You. Say-ved me.”

There.

That was almost two full sentences. He knows they’re crude and basic and maybe not quite what he was trying to say, but he managed to communicate on his own without blinking. It fills him with a buoyant glee, a bubbling temptation to laugh though he knows from experience that doing that would just make his head spin and throb.

He expects Jay to look proud again, happy or relieved—maybe even a sarcastic, teasing quip.

What he doesn’t expect is the wild gleam in Jay’s eye or the way the blood rushes from his cheeks. He looks like someone punched him, and then he’s standing, backing away.

“That…” He swallows. “I’ve got to…”

He doesn’t finish and instead turns and practically bolts from the room, leaving Tim staring after him in shocked dismay, wondering what just happened.

________________________________________________________________

To Be Continued

Poor Timmy. And just when he's starting to show some of his old spunk, too...

Things are heading for their first boiling point. Someone's got to knock some sense into Jay, either literally or metaphorically (who wants to take bets on who it will be?).

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