#throw your branches in the air and wave them like you just dont want to miss that meal floating by

[montereybayaquarium]

Many hands make light work. Or in the case of the basket star — many branches catch more snacks! 

This sinuous sea star stretches its many branches into the current to skillfully snatch small crustaceans and other prey as they drift by. 

[daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin]

“Your name, please. If I may."

(Legolas x Elf Moon Goddess Reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Middle-Earth Masterlist

My Main Blog Masterlist

Requested by: @chocotacobread

Requests: Open

Fandom: The Hobbit Trilogy

Request: ‘ Hi, i love your blog and I saw your requests are open And i was wondering if you could a legolas x elf moon goddess where him and the company comes across her in an abandoned village and legolas falls her. Sorry if this confusing as i dont know how to end it :)) ‘

Thank you so much for requesting! I am so happy that you like my blog. I was unsure what to write, but I did have an idea to begin with. I hope that this is okay. I don’t know why I struggled so much, haha. I did try my best. I hope you like it!

I’ve never written a Goddess reader before.

Warnings: Nothing I can think of.

Words: 2K

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.

I tagged ‘Thorin Oakenshield x Reader’ as in the Company in this case, just to clarify, sorry if I offended anyone!

Thank you.

:)

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"Dwarves," Legolas whispers distastefully, watching down at the Company from his perch on the branch. There they are, acting oblivious as always, chortling about, throwing their food, playing with it - it is truly revolting. He almost regrets joining Tauriel in her mission to protect the Dwarves from the Orc Pack hunting them, especially the youngest Prince, Kíli.

It is not yet night, but the Company has stopped for luncheon, a prospect that Legolas finds foolish. He looks up from the Company and glances warily at the trees around them. Who knows what other foul creatures linger in the Woods, possibly more grotesque than Naugrim?

"Tauriel." His gaze is pulled down to the Dwarven prince, who waves over the redheaded elf, who had decided to patrol on the ground against Legolas' better judgement. His eyes flicker to Tauriel, who returns it, before she looks down to the Dwarf with a small smile, much to his distaste. 

"I am certain my presence is better requested up here, Master Dwarf." Legolas watches curiously as her eyes light up and her cheeks quiver in an attempt to not laugh. 

He does not hear what is said next, but he does try to stop the Elf Maiden from jumping down and making her way over to the Dwarfs, which she brushes away, making him frown. How could she fancy him?

He continues to watch for some time, not moving an inch, until the young Hobbit comes running into the clearing, making the Company stand and erupt into a quick conversation. He still cannot understand why they would send someone they see as a friend to scout, but, perhaps, the skills of a Halfling are useful.

"Is it safe, Master Baggins?" Gandalf asks, pulling himself up with his staff.

"Yes, there is an abandoned village, but -"

Thorin ignores him, turning to his clan and bellowing, "we make North, our burglar here has found a clear path."

The dwarves erupt into cheers, reaching forward to pat him on the back, as well as each other. 

"He found us a place to sleep," Glóin cheers loudly.

"Hopefully there are beds," Ori quietly says, earning another cheer from the group as conversation booms through the clearing.

However, the Elf does not focus on this, instead, he listens to what the Dwarves are clearly to deaf to hear, Gandalf asking the Halfling, "But, what?"

There's a pause, and Legolas catches how the air catches in his throat before he continues with a laugh, "nothing, Gandalf." He glances to the floor, hands-on hip as he pats his foot on the ground, and then smiles up at Mithrandir, "I just wanted to ask when we are leaving, as the sun will be set in a few hours."

Legolas turns his head to the side, curiously, eyes not leaving the Hobbit.

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"My Prince, they are not too bad," Tauriel says, slipping into Sindarin, matching the pace of her Prince, not looking away from the road ahead of them.

Legolas looks to her, somehow not tripping over the uneven road ahead, matching the language, "you mean the 'tall' Dwarf is not too bad."

She sharply turns to him, mouth slightly open to respond, but she does not, instead, she turns back ahead. 

There are a few moments of silence before the two suddenly stop, turning to each other.

"What is it?" Thorin asks, halting his own conversation with Dwalin as well as the others'. Sighing angrily, he pushes forward, "are we in danger? Tell me now."

The Elves do not even spare him a glance, only looking down to the young Hobbit that comes over.

"I can feel it too, the woods felt healthier, safer, here."

"They are," Legolas whispers.

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The company were cautious upon their entry into the village, caution growing upon the lack of people present and the crumbling buildings. How could the trees and air feel healthier when there is no one here?

They are as quiet as they can, which makes Legolas' eyes roll at the continued heavy footsteps of the Mûmakil - apologies, Dwarf.

They continue this way, the Elves dancing over the twigs and stone, the Dwarf's jumping, the Halfling hopping, and the Wizard walking over until the cobblestone roads become less broken, the houses more gathered, and the skies clearer. They reach the centre of the village, where a single, large, intricate fountain stands away from the buildings. 

"I have no memory of this village," Mithrandir whispers, causing everyone's eyes to flicker to him, frozen in place.

Everyone looks around, and even Legolas finds himself gazing at the beautiful sky, a sky he has not seen in such a long time in his own land.

"If I do remember correctly, there were no mention of a village nearby on the map," Balin mumbles, and most turn to stare at him in alarm, eyes widening.

"It looks like a wishing well." Bilbo whispers, something tingling at the back of his brain.

"It is a fountain," Kíli quietly says, staring cautiously to the skies. 

"Did you not scout properly laddie," Óin asks, his hearing piece pressed tightly against his ear.

"I did," Bilbo becomes tense, quite offended as he looks over to the Dwarf, who apparently has not heard him, or is ignoring him, "I have you know I did. But -"

 "But he found me," she says, stepping forth from one of the side streets. The Company turns in alarm, Thorin pushing Bilbo behind him, weapons prepped. However, their grips weaken upon the sight before them.

A beautiful Elf Maiden weaves her way around them, stopping in front of the fountain. Her hair is braided up, lesser than half-up, half-down, moonstones and jewels weaved throughout, a twinkling, silver circlet on top of her head. She wears a silver gown, which fades into mithril past her waist. Her feet are bare, and yet she does not get hurt on the uneven ground beneath them. She glows brighter than an Elf, somehow, her ears are slightly pointier, she towers over the Dwarves and the Halfling, but she is not taller than the Woodland Prince. Her eyes are bright, the gown highlighting their beauty, her smile true and calming.

Her smile is far more radiant than her attire, and Legolas finds himself lowering his bow, an awestricken look on his face.

"Who are you?" He accidentally slips into a more forgotten language, Silvan. 

Yet it does not faze her, as she turns to him, responding fluently in the same tongue, "I am a Goddess of the Stars and a Goddess of the Moon."

She repeats it in Westron, the common tongue, and soon everyone is bowing before her.

She laughs politely, smiling fondly down to them all, "you may rest here for as long as you need, although under my protection, the village left some time ago."

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy : Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I heard that even a single gaze, can cause you to be enchanted by her," the youngest Prince whispers, raising Bilbo's brows, and the company begins to whisper.

"Her charms appear to have worked on the prince," Bilbo whispers, and Legolas quickly feels the stares of everyone on his back, but it does not faze him, for he is entranced by the Goddess. 

“What is her name?” Thorin’s eldest nephew asks, also unable to remove his eyes from the sight in front of them.

“Don’t be daft, lad,” Bombur says, shaking his head at the prince.

He turns to him, a brow raises, “why?”

“Never ask her name,” Bofur states, leaning forward, his finger pointing out to the centre of the group, “there are dire consequences, you fool.”

“How come?” All eyes of the original Company turn to the young Halfling, “she is beautiful. What can she do that is so terrible?” He turns back to his friends, “she has offered us nothing but comfort.” It is manners to ask one’s name. Why can they not do so?

“Do not be fooled, Mister Baggins, for if you ask her name, you are indebted to her for an eternity. Following her every whim.” Gandalf states, pipe in the corner of his mouth.

Bilbo turns back to the fair maiden, who is engaged in conversation with Tauriel, a polite, honest smile on her face, which is quite contagious, even spreading to him, despite his fear.

“No one would want that,” the deaf Dwarf states, also unable to rip his eyes from her.

Legolas, who had been listening from another tree, turns to the Goddess, a fond smile on his face. Perhaps, it would not be so terrible. After all, there are no fearful tales of at least her in their home. Only tales of the heartbreak, and such that follows. Although, he cannot remember the stories well, it has been centuries, more so, since he was young enough to hear them before bed.

But he would not mind it.

No.

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Over the next few days, he finds himself with enough courage to approach her, which she meets with a smile each time. 

He learns many things, such as it is her stars, they harvest into Mithril, and they also praise her on holy days. She is not in the Undying Lands, for the people of Middle-Earth need her help, which Legolas simply found inspirational, and what caused further pleasant flutters in his stomach. He was taken with her, truly, and undoubtedly. However, not only did she look at him the same as she did with everyone else, but their time in this village was also coming to an end.

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On their last time, she gifted them each their requests. Legolas would have enjoyed a lock of her hair but felt too out of presence to do so; it is a sacred thing after all.

"You are always welcome in my village, whenever you need it, it shall be here," she smiles fondly at the group, her cheeks growing flushed at the heat of the gaze of the prince. She is only a young Goddess, and not yet accustomed to the gazes of admirers, especially those the returns the feelings off. 

"Thank you, my lady," Gandalf bows before her, the others soon doing the same.

"You are most welcome," she looks up from him and looks at each of them, "I bless you with grace and luck on your journey."

There are many sharp intakes of breaths, fond smiles, and shouts of gratitude from them all, which widens her smile, "however, if you fall under the sickness of the mountain, my blessing will not be able to reach you."

"You needn't fear, my lady," Thorin comes to the front, "I am not my grandfather." He kneels before her, more gracious than anyone could ever know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy : Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Will I ever see you again?" The blonde prince asks, kneeling on one knee. The others have already gone to prepare their ponies and horses, but the Woodland Elf decided to stay, much to her confusion.

"I would like to hope so, and you may stand."

He does so, his eyes finally meeting hers, "I have thought of what I would like for my gift."

She raises a brow, arms clasping behind her back, "and what is that my prince."

Despite the flurry of emotions inside him, none show on his face, "your name, please. If I may."

She gasps, hand moving to cover her mouth. The winds freeze, the birds cease their calls, and the trees stop calling.

"Do you not know how sacr -"

"I do," he nods, "and it would be an honour to hear it. I know what it means."

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The young Prince smiles gleefully on his horse, tuning out all around him. Oh yes, he knows what knowing the true name of a Goddess means, and he will make true on his promise.

 He will marry (Y/n).

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[classycadaver]

A side blog for my main classycorpse. I'm posting any future art + writing here just cause I like making things difficult for myself. Anyways- heres a oneshot esc thing I wrote for a Post-Apocalypse esc au based around Fallout and Metro Exodus. I dont think I'll ever finish it but I was fairly proud of how the first chapter came out so I'm sharing it.

The original title for this work was "Pieces of The People We Love " and was going to follow the main plot of the founding of L'manburg up until it went boom, but through a Post Apocalyptic lense.

Reblogging is much appreciated and encouraged!

•○●○•

" Watch out for that branch. " 

    

" What bra- OH FUCK!" 

    

    Wilbur snorts at the explosive cursing behind him, smirking as he stops and turns toward Tommy. The young teen was hunched over, rubbing at his face all the while letting out a litany of curses. 

    

    " Your just a grade a fuckin' comedian, aren't ya Wilbur? '' Tommy spats venomously, glaring up at his brother. Wilbur chuckles, a genuine smile splitting across his face as he rolls his eyes. " Do you think it's funny? Trying to blind your poor, helpless, younger brother in such dire times?" Tommy adds. Wilbur notes the red line that streaks across Tommy's nose and cheek, presumably where the branch had struck him; Wilbur shakes his head as his younger brother continues to air his grievances, rolling his eyes at Tommy's overreaction. 

    

    " Well, I did warn you. Not my fault you can't follow simple commands. '' Wilbur humms back in a matter-of-factly tone. " And good job with the big words Tommy, I didn't know your vocabulary had expanded so much. Techno would be proud. " 

    

    Wilbur is already turning around, walking further along the path the two were currently traversing. Tommy fumbles with himself, trying to think of a response as he hurries after Wilbur. Tommy has to lengthen his gate to match Wilburs pace, almost fast walking to keep up with the taller man. 

    

    " I- well-.... whatever, you're a jerk, I don't have to explain myself to you. " Tommy hisses, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  " Plus- dire isn't a big word. Anyone can say dire, bitch. " The blonde added hotly. 

     " Whatever you say, Tommy. " Wilbur chuckles, waving off his younger brother. Tommy gapes at him, taken aback at being dismissed so swiftly.  

    " Did you just wake up on the ' let's bully Tommy today' side of the bed this morning? Cause you're being a pretty big dick, Wil, not gonna lie. " Tommy grumbles, glaring holes into the back of Wilbur's head. Wil simply shrugs, letting out an exasperated noise that indicated he was clueless towards Tommy's accusations. " I have no idea what youre talking about,Toms. " Wilbur hums. " Someones just extra sensitive today it seems. " 

     Wilbur cackles when Tommy punches him in the side, a string of angry curses leaving the teens mouth. The punch had no real anger or malice behind it, but the younger boy's bony knuckles dug into Wilburs side almost painfully, leaving a sting where Tommy's fist had struck Wil's side. The taller of the two let's out a huff, a shaky, wheezing, laughter following it. 

    " This is older sibling abuse-!" Wilbur laughs. The darker haired man dodges another swing aimed toward his arm, he catches Tommy's fist in the air. Wilbur is quick to spin the agitated teenager away from him, snorting humorously as Tommy almost loses his footing. Tommy desperately tries to catch his balance less he falls head over heels into the dirt road. 

     " Fockin- What the hell do you call that, then?" Tommy yells back at Wilbur, gesturing to the open space around them. " 'Older Sibling abuse' my ass!" The blonde growls, throwing his hands in the air. Tommy stands his ground, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Wilbur down with narrowed eyes. 

    " I demand an apology. " Tommy practically growls in a haughty tone. 

    " A- you can't be serious?" Wilbur stops in his tracks, looking at Tommy with a exspression that screams 'your bullshiting me, right?'. " You started it!" Wilbur accuses, letting out an airy laugh of disbelief.  " You want me to apologize for defending myself against such a brutal attack?" 

     Tommy's gaze seemingly hardens at Wilbur's words. His brow furrows and his mouth sets into a deep frown. Wilbur finds the look downright adorable. It sparks a small nostalgic memory for wilbur, reminding him of the earlier days with his brother- when Tommy used to pout whenever things didn't go his way. Although it seems like not much has changed over the years. 

Wilbur lets out a long, drawn out sigh; a hand flies to his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. " Fine. " Wilbur knew that Tommy wouldn't let something as simple as this go so fast, it was best to just apologize and get it over with. Internally, Wilbur cheers himself on by being such a good older sibling. 

    " Tommy I'm sorry-" Tommy looks at Wilbur triumphantly, a smirk already replacing his frown. Wilbur suddenly narrows his eyes behind his glasses, " I'm sorry for defending myself against a rather vicious attack. " He finishes. Wilbur mirrors Tommy's fading smirk as he turns away, suddenly dismissing the teen with a simple wave of his hand. Still a totally honorable older sibling thing to do. 

     " Asshole!"

     Wilbur snickers, shoving his hands into his pockets as he hears Tommy's encroaching footsteps. 

     " You think you're so-" 

     " About a mile up this road and We'll reach Essmpy." Wilbur interjects into Tommy's sentence, smiling softly as he watches his brother give him a death glare. There's a few beats of silence that pass between them, only the ambiance of nature filling in the gaps. The quietness seems to calm Tommy down considerably; the teen walking behind Wilbur in uncharacteristic silence. Wlibur cast a glance over his shoulder, observing Tommy with a mild sense of worry. Wil opens and closes his mouth, unable to find the words he's looking for. Eventually Wilbur lets it go, content with the silence. 

   But the quietness doesn't last long before Tommy begins to talk. " I'm not letting that go, by the way-you shit head. I'm holding that against you, until you actually apologize." The blonde declares, looking pointedly at Wilbur before looking away. Wilbur simply shrugs, deciding that there were worse fates than a brother's faux hatred. 

    A pregnant pause follows Tommys sentence, although Wilbur can tell the boy was attempting to put together another string of words. Wilbur walks patiently alongside Tommy, slowing his pace considerably." Do you think Techno will be there? Or.. or Phil?" Wilbur seems to be caught off guard by Tommy's question. The taller man's gate stutters as he tries to formulate a response. " Maybe? I don't know. '' Wilbur chokes out, furrowing his brow. " I mean-.. Techno was all the way up near Glay'seir. Doing college stuff and what not. So he's probably still up there, yea? I heard they were pretty well fortified, so Techs… okay, most likely. '' Wil blurts out, looking at the road ahead of them. His brown gaze flits over to Tommy, who had fallen back into a concerning quietness.

    The blonde simply nodded his head, looking down at the beaten dirt path below his boots, subconsciously wringing his gloved hands. He quickly pushes down his anxieties, shoving his hands to his sides as he thinks of something funny- anything to get rid of the melancholy mood.

    Tommy grunts when he smacks into Wilburs back, huffing agitatedly as he stumbles back a few feet, an insult already on the tip of his tongue. Before he can say a word, Wilbur whirls around, grabbing Tommy's hand as he starts to run the way they had just come. 

     Tommy barely has time to collect himself before he gets jerked backwards by the force of Wilburs hold on his hand. He nearly trips over his own feet in an attempt to keep up with Wilbur, the anxiety and fear building up in his chest making it even harder to focus on where he's running. 

     In another quick motion, they stop. Wilbur ducks past one of the shrubs lining the road, tugging Tommy in after him. Before he knows it, they're both sitting behind a tree, covered by the foliage surrounding them. Tommy scowls at the uncomfortable feeling of roots, sticks, and leaves beneath him; but he does not express his disdain for the area Wilbur chose to hide them in. 

     " What was it?" Tommy whispers, trying to peer past the tree trunk to get a glimpse of whatever Wil had seen. Tommy is immediately pulled back, a hand planted over his mouth as Wilbur shushed him. The blonde glares at Wilbur, scowling as he pushes Wils hand away from his face, grumbling angrily at his brother. 

     They wait in uncomfortable silence. Tommy listens intently for any sign of movement, but only hears the general ambiance of the forest. He lets out an exasperated sigh after what feels like ages of waiting, head thudding against the trunk of the tree before turning to Wilbur. 

     " Come on Wil, there's literally nothing out there-” Tommy's mouth snaps shut, body going completely rigid and eyes practically bulging from their sockets. Fear silences any words from escaping his mouth as he stares at the thing Wilbur had apparently seen earlier. He feels Wilbur tense next to him as the brunette moves into a crouched position, his hand clenching Tommy's  hand almost painfully. Both of their eyes are trained onto the creature just a few trees away from them, its giant grey body could clearly be made out from between the greens and browns of the forest around them.

    The lanky abomination has its flank toward them, its whip thin tail flicking back and forth as its large head hangs heavy between its bony shoulders, presumably sniffing the ground. Tommys breath catches in his throat when the creature's head suddenly snaps up; a high pitched, echoey cry leaves the animal's parted maw. The sound seeps directly into Tommys soul, his hand clenching Wilburs. 

    Wilbur glances back at Tommy taking his sights off of the creature for a moment. Tommy catches Wilburs eyes, fear very prominent in his blue gaze. Wil takes another quick look toward the creature before mouthing the words ‘ back to the road.’ at Tommy. The blonde furrows his brows in confusion. Back to the road? Surely that thing would hear them going through the underbrush? Was Wilbur nuts? 

    Tommys eyes widen when Wilbur shifts in place, yanking his hand from Tommy's. In a swift series of movements, Wilbur's arm is thrown back with a large object in hand- wait when did he get a rock? There's a loud crash as Wil throws the object; The rock tumbles through the foliage, effectively catching the creatures attention. It lets out a rumbling bark, immediately nose diving into the underbrush. Tommy scrambles against the bark of the tree, watching as Wilbur bolts from his spot besides him and quickly disappears past the tree trunk. 

     Tommy scrambles to follow Wilbur, tripping over his feet and the roots of the tree as he goes after Wil. Dread seeps into his stomach when a loud, ear piercing howl erupts from behind him. Tommy has his eyes set onto the back of Wilburs trench coat, focusing on his brother's back as his legs fly a mile a minute beneath him. His heart thunders in his chest, lungs burning as he sucks in quick gasps of air. 

    A crash and screech alerts them both that the Creature had caught on to their scent, the loud pounding of paws on the earth floor was enough to light a fire beneath Tommy's feet. He watches as Wilbur pushes past the barrier of foliage that encases the road they were traveling earlier- a spark of hope ignites in the boy's chest as he closes in on where Wilbur had disappeared. Tommy's mouth opens into a silent cry as he trips over a root or rock, sending his body barreling through the wall of leaves and out onto the road.

    Tommy hits the ground hard, the impact forcefully knocking the wind from his lungs as he tumbles forwards. Tommy lets out a wheeze as he lays helplessly on the road, desperately gasping for air as he claws at the dirt beneath him,  trying to make more distance between him and the creature. 

    A loud caterwaul fills the air, quickly followed  by a near deafening screech. Tommy curls in on himself, covering his head with his arms. The blonde cries out when something solid hits his side as an uncomfortable warmth seeps through his ragged clothes. 

     Tommy peeks open one of his eyes, face morphing into fear as he stares at the battered face of whatever had been chasing them. He screams, desperately scrambling backwards to get away from the thing. It takes him a second to realize that the creature very much wasn't alive at all. The head that had been staring at him was decapitated, head severed just below its jaw from its neck. 

  

     " Damn- that was a close call. " 

     As if the situation could get even more confusing, a voice comes from Tommy's left, spooking the boy significantly. He turns to face whoever had just been talking. Tommy is immediately greeted by a figure looming above him, the sun above perfectly silhouetting the stranger just right so he couldn't make out their face. 

 

     " Wil?" Tommy asks hesitantly.  He quickly realizes that whoever this was- certainly wasn't Wilbur. Tommy immediately gets into a standing position, swaying lightly on his feet from an intense feeling of vertigo- he must have hit his head hard when he fell. 

     The green man takes a step back, holding up his hands in an attempt to appear harmless. The bow and arrow in hand accompanied by the sword on this stranger's hip paints a different story. The incredibly tall height this guy is packing intensities the whole "intimidation" factor- he has to at least be eight feet tall. He was clad in a green camo jumper, a gold chest plate adorns his chest along with golden shoulder pads, his face obscured by what appeared to be a gas mask. 

     " Who- Who the fuck are you?"  Tommy splutters, unsure of what to make of this situation he's found himself in. The stranger lowers his hands, a soft "oh right" escaping him as he tries to find the right words. 

    “ My name is Awesam... But my friends call me Sam. “ 

[theravencawsatmidnight]

On The Prowl... Pt Three

A fantasy AU

NSFW!!!

Warnings: mentions of death . Non Con. Mentions of breeding. Violence.

A/N. All parts can be found under the Ontheprowl tag! Who do you want to see win this?!

The men were talking amongst themselves with you still on the ground blocking anyway of escape . You needed to get back to camp . You could not be some incubator for these crazy creatures. The panther seemed to dismiss any ideas they had on who goes first. You could not tell if he was serious or just dis interested. The leopard was the only one who was speaking any reason to you. Although you did not like his reasoning. He suggested they fight for you, it sounded like he was going to suggest something else but the panther made him stop. The wolf was panting gazing down at you not saying much . And the lion was getting rowdy and yelling.

“Come ON ! Lets just fight! Im not waiting around for-“ the panther nudged him growling making him stop. “Hah?!?” The lion snarled holding his hands out , small explosions coming off them , the panther rubbed his face staring down the lion getting in a fighting stance.

You dashed between the panthers legs running as fast as you can . You had no idea which way the camp was. The fire would be out by now so there was no smoke that could lead you. You were a sweating panting mess . Youre research clothes were dirty and youre vision was dizzy along with youre spinning head. Were they following you? It didint sound like it.

The men watched you run off . Bakugo had his hand on his hip looking annoyed. Shoto pointed out that you left and Chizome was pestering Shinso to go after you. Shinso yawned turning away going to a large cave. He waved his paw . “Whoever catches her can do whatever they want. But no breeding. Not yet.”

They bolted. Right into the jungle , eyes wide and jaws open. Running off pure adrenaline and instincts . Shoving branches out of their way, jumping over rocks. You could hear barking and roars . A howl lingered in youre head making you dizzy.

The expression on Shoto was different than his usual calm and relaxed. He was panting hard with a feral look on his face. Ice and fire bolts falling off him onto the ground. He was hungry for the hunt.

Chizome was close behind him stepping on the fire putting it out, he was running on all fours with lust in his eyes and his tongue out. He looked the most eager to breed out of all of them.

Bakugo was up front and the farthest ahead of the two . He was the most excited out of all of them . His mouth open wide with a very big grin on his face. The chase was his favorite. He wanted to pin you down and mark you . Making you his and only his.

You found a old dead tree scrambling inside holding youre knees . You felt a sting on youre knees and you lifted youre hands to see blood. You were a shaking panicking mess. Youre pony tail was loose and you had some strands of hair in youre face , the pony tail was half out and it felt uncomfortable and weird hanging so low. At some point you lost youre boots and youre socks were bloody and ripped. You pulled them off wincing from the sting and rubbing them. Youre legs were cut up and dirty too.

“Cmon Y/N.. think it through.. they wont find you here. Just wait it out and find the camp in the morning.” You heard some footsteps getting close and quickly covered youre mouth.

“I smell her... “ Shoto said walking around the tree.

“Then FIND her !” Ordered Bakugo

“Who gets to mark her though?” Stain said sniffing the tree.

“I do obviously!!!” Bakugo roared kicking the tree.

You whined feeling the tree shake and the three looked at each other then the tree. They kicked and clawed it tearing it up revealing you inside . Bakugo snarled licking his lips tackling you holding youre arms up above youre head . Stain headbutted Bakugo off of you and clawed youre clothes off touching youre bare chest clawing them. Shoto hit him with a ice punch knocking him off . Shoto got ontop of youre struggling body , his fire side going nuts . He licked youre face furiously and gripped youre sides lining you up with him.

Bakugo and Stain tackled him off of you and three yelled at each other fighting.

“You always try to mark them and you end up killing them !!!” Yelled Shoto. “The incubators dont all belong to you!” He growled biting Bakugos chest kicking him off of him.

“Yes they do! Everything belongs to me!” He jumped up biting Shoto’s tail swatting him.

Stain slipped away during the scuffle to find you crawling away . He grabbed youre leg yanking you back dragging you through the dirt. You whined trying to grab something, anything that could help you. You grunted when he got onto youre back pressing himself on you. He licked at youre ear while he spoke.

“Im so lucky i get to have a chance with you first! The lion always fights his way to first grabs leaving us with a half dead incubator.” He pressed himself on youre rear growling loud making youre ears ring. The heat coming off him made it feel like youre rear was burning. You felt a paw cup youre sex and the other covering youre mouth. You were trembling with each word he said .

“I cant wait to breed you and fill you up with my pups with this.” You felt him poking at youre entrance and youre body spazzed . He pushed slowly , youre insides were slowly starting to burn and stretch to accommodate him .

Bakugo kicked Shoto off him jumping up looking around for you. He sniffed the air and saw Shoto run off in a direction. Bakugo followed and the two found Stain on top of you trying to keeo you still under him. The leopard and the lion grabbed the wolf throwing him into a tree. Bakugo dropped to his knees cupping youre sex and Shoto pressed his knee on youre back holding you in place.

“Did he?!?” Asked Shoto, he had ice spiking from his fur.

“No.. you stupid mutt!!!” He said yelling at Stain who was slowly pulling himself together. “What were you thinking?!?”

“He wasint.” Shoto said grabbing youre rear making you whine and struggle.

“PLEASE!” You tried to reason with them . Anything, something had to work!! “Let me go!! -“ Shoto stuffed his tail in youre mouth and squeezed both of youre cheeks digging his claws in lightly. Bakugo slipped a finger inside you purring at the way you clung around him. He drooled down on youre thighs pushing more of his finger inside of you watching you stretch .

Stain shook his head looking up to see what was going on. He rushed over pushing Shoto off you flipping you over to squeeze youre bloody breast. Bakugo took his finger out and grabbed youre kicking legs holding them apart . Shoto grabbed youre arms holding then up and leaned down to lick youre face . You could feel Bakugo’s heat presing against you and it sent you into a frenzy , whenever you tried to talk Shoto would bite youre neck. Stain licked at youre nipples biting them pulling them up then letting them go. Bakugo stroked youre thighs licking them panting heavilly and biting the insides.

They all heard a soft lazy roar fill their heads . All three of them looked up and Stain howled in response. They all got off your trembling body not looking at you.

“God dammit, i guess we took too long” Bakugo said yanking you up hauling you over his shoulder. He bit youre thigh one last time before making his way back to the den.

“Maybe if you werent so hot headed” Shoto said calmly as he stood up brushing the dirt off his fur and the ice . He followed closely bickering with the lion.

“The chase was fun though right? Can we do that again?” Stain said getting up following them.

Shinso was back at the den looking bored chewing a bone. It was quiet when it was just him. But he heard everything that went on. Every scream, every whimper, every word. Hes surprised Bakugo was able to hold back too. Maybe they should fight over you.

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 17

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @inspeech)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

A/N: THANK THE LORD I FIGGURED IT OUT!

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

The cool crisp water against her hot back sent chills up her body. The heat from the air no longer feeling sticky against her as the cool water washes away the humidity on her skin.

It was the middle of October, and everyone had grown accustomed to the cold air. But the last 3 days had been a heat wave that shot the cool air into hot and humid. Causing everyone to trade their sweaters and jeans for tank tops and shorts. Thankfully the manor was for the most part cool, below the 100 degree weather outside.

It was mid day when she decided to go outside into the large outdoor pool. The scorching heat outside made her skin sticky almost instantly, even with the Bathing suit she wore. It was a nice welcome when she stepped into the cool water.

She threw the weight as far as she could, watching it plummet to the floor below.

She took in a large breath, and dove down. The instant pressure on her body, but with the weightless surrounds her. She dove as far as she could down to reach the weight, but once she reached the 20 feet depth, she felt her lungs closing up more and more until she couldn’t take it and swam back up.

She let out a large gasp when she broke the surface, no longer feeling hot but cold as she took in the much needed air.

She heard someone walking behind her, turning abruptly but relaxed when she saw who it was.

There stood Tim, clad in dress pants, a button up and a tie, his jacket laid in a heap in his arms, long since taken off due to the heat. “You doing anything today?” He asked. She swam over to him, resting her arms along the pools walls. He crouched down to her level. “Not really, why?” She asked, her head tilted slightly. “I just got back from the most boring, soul sucking meeting that almost made me jump out the window and let god decide if I lived or not.” This caused her to laugh, Tim joining in on the laughing. Once their laughter died down, she looked back to him. “Alright, what you got in mind?” She asks. A smile takes over his face. “I know the perfect place.”

They both walked into the large coffeehouse, the smell of coffee beans and baked goods hitting them as soon as they entered. The sounds of people talking, plates being moved and the soft hum of music took up the room.

Her shoes softly padding along the hardwood flooring. She decided on a pair of soft black ballet pumps, an ivory long sleeve top tucked into a pair of high waisted cropped trousers. Her hair freshly cut, soft curls framed around her eyes. Tim wore the same clothes he came home in, just trading the suit jacket for a leather one.

They both sat in their seats, sipping on their drinks. Tim chose his usual black coffee with sugar, her choosing a green tea with lemon. “Want anything to eat?” He asks, causing her to look up at him from her cup. “Would they have any yogurt?” She questions, causing Tim to roll his eyes and chuckle. “Yes, yes they do.”

“So how was the meeting?” She asked, after finishing her cup of yogurt. “It was more a brainstorming day. The board wants to expand Wayne enterprise to other fields.” He says, taking a sip of his second cup of coffee. “What do they want to expand on?” She asks. “More Real estate and construction.” This caused her to be further confused. “Why? I thought you guys were more tech?” Her head slightly tilted as she eyes him. He sets his cup down onto the table. “That’s the new Wayne enterprise. The Wayne’s got their name and money originally for helping colonize Gotham. They were the ones who built most of the homes and helped build the city. They’re wanting to widen the company to other branches. I’ve got little to do with it, I’m pretty much just one of the faces of the company.” Tim says, finishing the last few sips of his now cold coffee.

Sandy puts her chin in her palm and eyes him, “so you said you’re the face of WE, what position do you actually have in the company?” Tim chuckles at this, writing out the check as he speaks. “Bruce gave me the position as the CEO. I took it due to being one of the only ones in the family who was both interested in it, and old enough. Damian was to young at the time, I was old enough at the time to take the job. And even now that’s he’s old enough, Damian doesn’t have any interest in it. Says he can’t stand the people. And honestly, yeah I understand him.” Tim chuckles, looking at her and seeing her chuckle under her breath. “Alright, let’s head out before there’s too many people.”

Before either one could fully step out of the coffeehouse, they were Bombarded with cameras flashing, people yelling out all around them and being surrounded. Her throat closed up almost immediately, feeling like her insides would fall out to her feet. Her heart sank and filled with a tight pain. Her breathing grew sporadic and heavy, nearly causing her to cry.

Tim quickly tucked her shaking head into his chest and nearly carried her shaking body out of the crowd of press, feeling the tears soaking his shirt the longer they were in it. He bent his head down to hers, lightly running his hand into her hair to hopefully soothe her. “Hey hey shhh it’s okay we’re almost at the car.” He warped his arm around her side, practically carrying her the rest of the way due to her sobs and hyperventilating.

They both drove off in a hurry, tims hands gripping the wheel so tightly his fingers were an even pallet shade.

Her sobs turned into small silent tears cascading down her face. She looked over to him, his eyes trained on the road, jaw set and brows in an angry line. “What are we gonna do?” She whispers, dread sinking into her stomach, making her want to throw up. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure out something okay?”

‘Who’s the mystery girl?’ ‘CEO of Wayne Enterprise Timothy Drake Wayne with girl.’ ‘Who’s the girl Tim drake Wayne was spotted with? All the information we have.’ Papers, news outlets, gossip websites, magazines, anything you name it and her face was on the cover of it. But the one that stuck out, the one that caused tears to stream down her face, was a magazine by cat grant. ‘The new gold digger in the Wayne family.’ At the bottom showed her with both Tim, and a foggy picture of her and Damian our for dinner. Along with a photo of her hiding in tims chest, and one with damians jacket on her and his arm around her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she sits with everyone in the family room, all minus one. She knew he’d be here any minute now. After a phone call from dick, Jason promised to be there within the hour.

The door swung open, hearing heavy footsteps hurrying down the hallway. She stood up, seeing him at the door of the large room. She ran over to him and into his wide open arms. She let out a few tears into his chest, clutching to him with all her strength. She took in the familiar smell of him, the scent of cigarettes strong on him. Knowing he puffed on one either before he left or in his way.

She looked up at him, seeing behind his dark tired eye bags, his eyes shined with bushes tears. “I missed you so much bugga.” He whispered into the top of her head, kissing her forehead lightly.

“Alright, we all are up to date with what’s happened, correct?” Bruce asks, breaking the very uncomfortable silence in the room.

Jason sat beside her on her left, with Tim on her right. Next to them say dick and Barbara, with Alfred on the other couch. Beside Alfred, sat bruce and

Selina. And sat in a chair was damian.

Tension was high in the room with the two, almost creating a thickness in the air that worried all of them. They all could see them avoid looking at one another, with a slight uncomfortable pain expression.

Sandy held her necklace in her fingers and twirled it lightly back and forth, Jason taking notice and putting his hand on her shoulder.

“So are we just gonna sit here in silence this entire time, or are we gonna actually talk?” Asked Tim, shocking sandy and mostly everyone. They had grown used to Tim being one of the more quiet of the family.

“No you’re right Tim, we need to figure out what our next step is.” Replies dick. Jason’s jaw ticks lightly, a scowl on his face. “We’re all talking about the same one right? The article written by cat?” Asks Jason, anger evident in his voice. His eyes shone with anger, jaw set and fists balling lightly.

Bruce sighs as he looks at him. “Yes, that one in particular is the one that’s caused concern-“ “then why not go after her? Why not do something about it for all the bullshit that article alone said.” Jason not back, fists now in a tight ball. “There’s one problem with that jason. She has some of the super family behind her-“ Jason slams his hand on the table in front of him, breaking Bruce from speaking. “Isn’t this fucking asshole over here best friends with one?” Jason points to Damian, eyes wide in anger. “Why dont you make yourself useful for once in your fucking life and have your buddy call off his cousin so I can have a word with her?” Jason angrily says, eyes boring into damians equally fiery stare.

“I’m not having Jon do that.” Damian said back, shaking slightly in his seat, his eyes boring into Jason’s. “God you are seriously the most useless one out of all of us! AND REPLACEMENT OVER HERE WAS ROBIN FOR A YEAR BEFORE YOU CAME IN!” Jason yelled back, fists now shaking along with the rest of his body. “Jason that’s enough!-“ “STAY OUT OF THIS BRUCE! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH AS IT IS WHEN YOU GET INVOLVED WITH ME! No I’m fucking sick of how this fucking prick thinks he’s the king all because he’s ‘the blood son’ when he’s nothing but A FUCKING PRICK WHO NEEDS TO GET OFF HIS HIGH FUCKING HORSE!”

Jason has moved into Damians face, nearly inches away from him. Tears brimmed jason's eyes, anger so prevalent that it made his heart throb in pain due to holding back.

Damian wasn’t far off from it as well, now fully shaking, his legs having a hard time keeping himself standing. Heat radiated off of each other as both men shook in place.

“Get the FUCK out of my face Todd! And STAY THE FUCK OIT OF THIS IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH Y-“ “THATS MY FUCKING DAUGHTER! ANYTIME SOMEBODY HURTS HER THEY'RE DEALING WITH ME! Same with you you little bastard. See that scar across your cheek? That’s from me. And if I had it my way, this is hell and I’m the devil.” Jason spat, getting right in damians face. He can feel the raging breath Damian takes the closer he gets to him. Feeling the anger pouring off of him. “I’ll show you what hell is-“ “you better keep that fucking trap of yours shut. I was the first robin to die. I’ll gladly make you the second one. Oh wait, mommy’s boyfriend already did that a few years ago.” “Alright that’s I-“ “ENOUGH!”

All eyes turned to sandy. Who had now gotten up from her seat, shaking slightly as she stood.

Her eyes burned with tears as she watched them both, watching as both got worse and closer to breaking. Her Stomach in so many knots, it felt as though it’d fall out into the floor in a heap. Her mind played a thousand different thoughts on what she could do. Her options were limited, she could grab Jason’s arm and pull him away, she could get between them, she could hit both of them hard enough to knock them out, or get a squirt bottle and spray them like cats. The last one made her chuckle slightly.

She watched as Damian raised his hand from his side, and her heart shrunk and fell. The anger inside her screaming out loud enough to boom out around the room.

Emery one watched as the first tear slid down her cheek, quickly wiping it away as fast as it came. Her hand shook by her sides relentlessly. Her jaw set and eyes cold as she bore into both of the men’s eyes. “If you both are done with your dick measuring contest, then can we actually talk like fucking adults for ONCE.”

“We could sue her, she is in defamation of character.”dick says, eyes looking back to Tim and sandy. Tim sighs, head resting in his hands. “Cats had more lawsuits against her than I have bullet wounds, she always weasels her way out of them each time.” “Fucking vulture.” Damian whispers. Sandy lightly chuckles when she hears it. Jason looks over to her with a raised eyebrow, her shaking her head at him lightly.

Leaves crunched under both of their boots the longer they went down the sidewalk towards the park, his jacket covering her arms, along with his hand around her side pulling her into him.

Damian noticed them first, seeing them around the corner snapping the photo. His jaw set, eyes hard on the man as he pulls her further into him. His grip ever so slightly tighter. “It’s another one.” Damian whispers, looking down at her. A soft laugh escaping her. He tilts his head slightly, brow raised as he looks at her. “You mean another vulture?” She teases back, making Damian smile and roll his eyes. She laughs at his expression, causing him to let out a chuckle. “And hey, I don’t mind. As long as they get my good side.” She jokes, moving her head so only her left side was shown, in a mock model face. He laughed at her antics. “Oh trust me, all your sides are good sides, gorgeous.” Damian whispers, kissing the top of her cheek.

“Well then what can we do? We can’t just let her and the media make whatever they want about sandy.” Barbara replies, slightly scooting into dicks arm. Looking over at her.

“How about an interview, or a press thing? Why not clear everything up with my word.” All eyes looked to her, even Damian looked questionly at her. “Are you sure?” Asks Jason, worry struck to his face. “An interview would be the better option.” Replies Bruce, all eyes still trained on her. “Then that’s it, that’s what I’ll do.”

She ran her fingers over her hair for what was probably the 100th time in the last hour. Smoothing over her skirt probably even more frequent.

She was scared, her heart sinking low the entire day it felt like. Each hour that ticked closer to 2 her stomach would twist further.

Dread filled her when the clock showed 1:50. 10 minutes left of life outside of the spotlight. 10 minutes of having only a few people knowing she exists. 10 more minutes of having as normal of a life that she’s had.

Her flats padded against the floor softly, her heartbeat taking up most of the noise in her ears. Sweat beaded down her forehead that she quickly wiped away.

One more hallway until she reached the room they decided to have the interview. They chose a small office, it had a few chairs, a couch, and a table. Pictures hung on the wall along with a large window. It was one of the few small rooms in the manor, but it would fit perfectly.

Her breath got caught in her throat when she passed the living room door. There, walking out was damian. They both stopped in their tracks, as if they again were frozen.

Damian sighed when he looked at her. She adored an off white floral top, a black skirt, and ballet flats. Her hair was slightly curled, well as much as it could due to the short length. Her face appeared bare, besides flushed cheeks and lips painted as red as a fresh rose. Her posture was tight, ridged. She looked about ready to pass out from anxiety.

Damian sighed. “You’re too tense. Relax your shoulders, take a deep breath. It’s not as scary as you think.” Her shoulders instantly lowered, her posture was still ridged. But more natural, and less like a board or robot. “Thanks, I just can’t help but be scared.” She looked away when she spoke, a pain in his heart when she couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “I know, but this is Vicki Vale. She’s not as bad as most reporters.” He replied. A soft smile on her face appeared. “So she’s not a Vulture?” She giggled, causing Damian to lightly roll his eyes.

She walked by him, down the hallway to the room. Significantly more relaxed. When her back fully turned to him, a soft smile adorned his face as he lightly chuckles under his breath.

When she reaches the hard wood door, she stops. She takes in a shaky breath, her heart again pounding. She reaches up and takes her necklace into her fingers, running her thumb over it a few times. Instantly calming her slightly. She again takes in a large breath, and turns the knob and opens the door.

Walking in she instantly spited the large camera, the man behind it, the lights, along with a blonde woman standing in front of the camera. The woman who she recognizes to be Vicki, walks to her putting her hand out. She shook it lightly, hand still slightly shaky. Both of them walked over to the two chars, now facing each other. “Alight in 3,2,1. Go.”

Vicki turns to her, with a smile on her face “Hi there I’m reporter Vicki Vale,” “hello there, it’s nice to have you here.” She replied, a soft smile on her face. Her heart beat going down slightly. “Thank you for having me here. Now, why don’t we start this off with who you are?” Vicki asks.

“My name is Saundra Todd.” Both the camera man, and Vicki gasp. Shock written on their face. “Todd? As in?” A small chuckle escapes under her breath. “Yes, as in the daughter of Jason Todd.” Vickis eyes widen further, not even trying to hide the shock in her face. “But, hasn’t he been dead for years? I don’t understand, he passed when he was 15?” Vicki asks, “funny you say that, cause he’s alive.” Both Vicki and the camera man gasp even more.

“When my dad was 14, he had a stalker. At first it wasn’t so bad. A couple letters,both Bruce and Jason thought it was weird but the letters were harmless. They thought it was probably just a girl or boy around his age who thought he was cute. But overtime the lets became more concerning. They would go from nice to lashing out, each one getting worse. Bruce hired an investigator to find who it was, but they came up empty. One night, when my dad was 15, him and Bruce got into an argument. He left. He was wandering around the city that night. He had grown up on the streets so he knew where he was going. Well, before he knew it, he was knocked out. He was taken by his stalker who followed him, to an abandoned warehouse. He, beat my father so heavily, that he passed out. The guy was sure he killed him, and left. Later that night, Bruce called the police, and someone had tipped them that they heard screaming from the warehouse. Officer Jim Gordon was the one who found him. They took him to the hospital. And there, Bruce, Jim and my dad, made a plan. They decided to fake my fathers death. And have him leave the country. And so he did. He went to Europe. He had a fake name, fake aliace, everything. Well a few years passed, and they caught the man. When Bruce called him telling him, my dad said he wanted to stay. And there he stayed. For 5 years my father stayed in Europe. Well when he was 23, he decided he wanted to come home. He didn’t take up the Wayne bane, or come back announcing he was alive. Over the years he grew comfortable being out of the spotlight. And so, he moved into a small apartment. He’s not my real dad, he actually found me. I was an orphan, had been for a long time. I was living on the streets at the time. And one day, he saw me. I was only 17 at the time. And he offered me a place, and here we are.” “I just, wow. I can’t believe he’s been alive this entire time. Is he ever wanting to come out himself?” Vicki asks. “I don’t know, he’s pretty comfortable where he’s at now. I was too until well, you know.” She laughed, causing Vicki to chuckle. “Very true, Gotham isn’t very forgiving in that department. Especially since you’re seen with the Wayne family.” Her heart was no longer feeling like it would fall out her chest, now feeling comfortable. “Oh yeah, especially since I’ve been staying here the last month.” Confusion written on Vickis face. “Oh? And why’s that?” She asks her. “My father went back to Europe to visit some of his friends for a while, I chose to stay here in Gotham.” “Now, I gotta ask, what’s your father like? I mean we haven’t seen him in over a decade.” A soft laugh leaves her at the question. “He’s absolutely amazing. He’s incredibly caring, he’s always looking out for me. But being that he’s only 6 years older than me, he's kinda like a big brother to me at the same time. He’s also a huge dork, he’ll go at any length to make me laugh. He’s the best father I could ask for. But it always hasn’t been that way. When I first went to stay there, we barely talked. It wasn’t just an instant father daughter bond. Hell, he didn’t adopt me for a few months. He’s not like Bruce who has adoption papers in his jacket.” She chuckles. Everyone turned to the door when they heard large laughter behind the door. Vicki turned to her mouthing ‘who?’ “Oh that would be my uncle. The cool crisp water against her hot back sent chills up her body. The heat from the air no longer feeling sticky against her as the cool water washes away the humidity on her skin.

It was the middle of October, and everyone had grown accustomed to the cold air. But the last 3 days had been a heat wave that shot the cool air into hot and humid. Causing everyone to trade their sweaters and jeans for tank tops and shorts. Thankfully the manor was for the most part cool, below the 100 degree weather outside.

It was mid day when she decided to go outside into the large outdoor pool. The scorching heat outside made her skin sticky almost instantly, even with the Bathing suit she wore. It was a nice welcome when she stepped into the cool water.

She threw the weight as far as she could, watching it plummet to the floor below.

She took in a large breath, and dove down. The instant pressure on her body, but with the weightless surrounds her. She dove as far as she could down to reach the weight, but once she reached the 20 feet depth, she felt her lungs closing up more and more until she couldn’t take it and swam back up.

She let out a large gasp when she broke the surface, no longer feeling hot but cold as she took in the much needed air.

She heard someone walking behind her, turning abruptly but relaxed when she saw who it was.

There stood Tim, clad in dress pants, a button up and a tie, his jacket laid in a heap in his arms, long since taken off due to the heat. “You doing anything today?” He asked. She swam over to him, resting her arms along the pools walls. He crouched down to her level. “Not really, why?” She asked, her head tilted slightly. “I just got back from the most boring, soul sucking meeting that almost made me jump out the window and let god decide if I lived or not.” This caused her to laugh, Tim joining in on the laughing. Once their laughter died down, she looked back to him. “Alright, what you got in mind?” She asks. A smile takes over his face. “I know the perfect place.”

They both walked into the large coffeehouse, the smell of coffee beans and baked goods hitting them as soon as they entered. The sounds of people talking, plates being moved and the soft hum of music took up the room.

Her shoes softly padding along the hardwood flooring. She decided on a pair of soft black ballet pumps, an ivory long sleeve top tucked into a pair of high waisted cropped trousers. Her hair freshly cut, soft curls framed around her eyes. Tim wore the same clothes he came home in, just trading the suit jacket for a leather one.

They both sat in their seats, sipping on their drinks. Tim chose his usual black coffee with sugar, her choosing a green tea with lemon. “Want anything to eat?” He asks, causing her to look up at him from her cup. “Would they have any yogurt?” She questions, causing Tim to roll his eyes and chuckle. “Yes, yes they do.”

“So how was the meeting?” She asked, after finishing her cup of yogurt. “It was more a brainstorming day. The board wants to expand Wayne enterprise to other fields.” He says, taking a sip of his second cup of coffee. “What do they want to expand on?” She asks. “More Real estate and construction.” This caused her to be further confused. “Why? I thought you guys were more tech?” Her head slightly tilted as she eyes him. He sets his cup down onto the table. “That’s the new Wayne enterprise. The Wayne’s got their name and money originally for helping colonize Gotham. They were the ones who built most of the homes and helped build the city. They’re wanting to widen the company to other branches. I’ve got little to do with it, I’m pretty much just one of the faces of the company.” Tim says, finishing the last few sips of his now cold coffee.

Sandy puts her chin in her palm and eyes him, “so you said you’re the face of WE, what position do you actually have in the company?” Tim chuckles at this, writing out the check as he speaks. “Bruce gave me the position as the CEO. I took it due to being one of the only ones in the family who was both interested in it, and old enough. Damian was to young at the time, I was old enough at the time to take the job. And even now that’s he’s old enough, Damian doesn’t have any interest in it. Says he can’t stand the people. And honestly, yeah I understand him.” Tim chuckles, looking at her and seeing her chuckle under her breath. “Alright, let’s head out before there’s too many people.”

Before either one could fully step out of the coffeehouse, they were Bombarded with cameras flashing, people yelling out all around them and being surrounded. Her throat closed up almost immediately, feeling like her insides would fall out to her feet. Her heart sank and filled with a tight pain. Her breathing grew sporadic and heavy, nearly causing her to cry.

Tim quickly tucked her shaking head into his chest and nearly carried her shaking body out of the crowd of press, feeling the tears soaking his shirt the longer they were in it. He bent his head down to hers, lightly running his hand into her hair to hopefully soothe her. “Hey hey shhh it’s okay we’re almost at the car.” He warped his arm around her side, practically carrying her the rest of the way due to her sobs and hyperventilating.

They both drove off in a hurry, tims hands gripping the wheel so tightly his fingers were an even pallet shade.

Her sobs turned into small silent tears cascading down her face. She looked over to him, his eyes trained on the road, jaw set and brows in an angry line. “What are we gonna do?” She whispers, dread sinking into her stomach, making her want to throw up. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure out something okay?”

‘Who’s the mystery girl?’ ‘CEO of Wayne Enterprise Timothy Drake Wayne with girl.’ ‘Who’s the girl Tim drake Wayne was spotted with? All the information we have.’ Papers, news outlets, gossip websites, magazines, anything you name it and her face was on the cover of it. But the one that stuck out, the one that caused tears to stream down her face, was a magazine by cat grant. ‘The new gold digger in the Wayne family.’ At the bottom showed her with both Tim, and a foggy picture of her and Damian our for dinner. Along with a photo of her hiding in tims chest, and one with damians jacket on her and his arm around her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she sits with everyone in the family room, all minus one. She knew he’d be here any minute now. After a phone call from dick, Jason promised to be there within the hour.

The door swung open, hearing heavy footsteps hurrying down the hallway. She stood up, seeing him at the door of the large room. She ran over to him and into his wide open arms. She let out a few tears into his chest, clutching to him with all her strength. She took in the familiar smell of him, the scent of cigarettes strong on him. Knowing he puffed on one either before he left or in his way.

She looked up at him, seeing behind his dark tired eye bags, his eyes shined with bushes tears. “I missed you so much bugga.” He whispered into the top of her head, kissing her forehead lightly.

“Alright, we all are up to date with what’s happened, correct?” Bruce asks, breaking the very uncomfortable silence in the room.

Jason sat beside her on her left, with Tim on her right. Next to them say dick and Barbara, with Alfred on the other couch. Beside Alfred, sat bruce and

Selina. And sat in a chair was damian.

Tension was high in the room with the two, almost creating a thickness in the air that worried all of them. They all could see them avoid looking at one another, with a slight uncomfortable pain expression.

Sandy held her necklace in her fingers and twirled it lightly back and forth, Jason taking notice and putting his hand on her shoulder.

“So are we just gonna sit here in silence this entire time, or are we gonna actually talk?” Asked Tim, shocking sandy and mostly everyone. They had grown used to Tim being one of the more quiet of the family.

“No you’re right Tim, we need to figure out what our next step is.” Replies dick. Jason’s jaw ticks lightly, a scowl on his face. “We’re all talking about the same one right? The article written by cat?” Asks Jason, anger evident in his voice. His eyes shone with anger, jaw set and fists balling lightly.

Bruce sighs as he looks at him. “Yes, that one in particular is the one that’s caused concern-“ “then why not go after her? Why not do something about it for all the bullshit that article alone said.” Jason not back, fists now in a tight ball. “There’s one problem with that jason. She has some of the super family behind her-“ Jason slams his hand on the table in front of him, breaking Bruce from speaking. “Isn’t this fucking asshole over here best friends with one?” Jason points to Damian, eyes wide in anger. “Why dont you make yourself useful for once in your fucking life and have your buddy call off his cousin so I can have a word with her?” Jason angrily says, eyes boring into damians equally fiery stare.

“I’m not having Jon do that.” Damian said back, shaking slightly in his seat, his eyes boring into Jason’s. “God you are seriously the most useless one out of all of us! AND REPLACEMENT OVER HERE WAS ROBIN FOR A YEAR BEFORE YOU CAME IN!” Jason yelled back, fists now shaking along with the rest of his body. “Jason that’s enough!-“ “STAY OUT OF THIS BRUCE! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH AS IT IS WHEN YOU GET INVOLVED WITH ME! No I’m fucking sick of how this fucking prick thinks he’s the king all because he’s ‘the blood son’ when he’s nothing but A FUCKING PRICK WHO NEEDS TO GET OFF HIS HIGH FUCKING HORSE!”

Jason has moved into Damians face, nearly inches away from him. Tears brimmed jason's eyes, anger so prevalent that it made his heart throb in pain due to holding back.

Damian wasn’t far off from it as well, now fully shaking, his legs having a hard time keeping himself standing. Heat radiated off of each other as both men shook in place.

“Get the FUCK out of my face Todd! And STAY THE FUCK OIT OF THIS IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH Y-“ “THATS MY FUCKING DAUGHTER! ANYTIME SOMEBODY HURTS HER THEY'RE DEALING WITH ME! Same with you you little bastard. See that scar across your cheek? That’s from me. And if I had it my way, this is hell and I’m the devil.” Jason spat, getting right in damians face. He can feel the raging breath Damian takes the closer he gets to him. Feeling the anger pouring off of him. “I’ll show you what hell is-“ “you better keep that fucking trap of yours shut. I was the first robin to die. I’ll gladly make you the second one. Oh wait, mommy’s boyfriend already did that a few years ago.” “Alright that’s I-“ “ENOUGH!”

All eyes turned to sandy. Who had now gotten up from her seat, shaking slightly as she stood.

Her eyes burned with tears as she watched them both, watching as both got worse and closer to breaking. Her Stomach in so many knots, it felt as though it’d fall out into the floor in a heap. Her mind played a thousand different thoughts on what she could do. Her options were limited, she could grab Jason’s arm and pull him away, she could get between them, she could hit both of them hard enough to knock them out, or get a squirt bottle and spray them like cats. The last one made her chuckle slightly.

She watched as Damian raised his hand from his side, and her heart shrunk and fell. The anger inside her screaming out loud enough to boom out around the room.

Emery one watched as the first tear slid down her cheek, quickly wiping it away as fast as it came. Her hand shook by her sides relentlessly. Her jaw set and eyes cold as she bore into both of the men’s eyes. “If you both are done with your dick measuring contest, then can we actually talk like fucking adults for ONCE.”

“We could sue her, she is in defamation of character.”dick says, eyes looking back to Tim and sandy. Tim sighs, head resting in his hands. “Cats had more lawsuits against her than I have bullet wounds, she always weasels her way out of them each time.” “Fucking vulture.” Damian whispers. Sandy lightly chuckles when she hears it. Jason looks over to her with a raised eyebrow, her shaking her head at him lightly.

Leaves crunched under both of their boots the longer they went down the sidewalk towards the park, his jacket covering her arms, along with his hand around her side pulling her into him.

Damian noticed them first, seeing them around the corner snapping the photo. His jaw set, eyes hard on the man as he pulls her further into him. His grip ever so slightly tighter. “It’s another one.” Damian whispers, looking down at her. A soft laugh escaping her. He tilts his head slightly, brow raised as he looks at her. “You mean another vulture?” She teases back, making Damian smile and roll his eyes. She laughs at his expression, causing him to let out a chuckle. “And hey, I don’t mind. As long as they get my good side.” She jokes, moving her head so only her left side was shown, in a mock model face. He laughed at her antics. “Oh trust me, all your sides are good sides, gorgeous.” Damian whispers, kissing the top of her cheek.

“Well then what can we do? We can’t just let her and the media make whatever they want about sandy.” Barbara replies, slightly scooting into dicks arm. Looking over at her.

“How about an interview, or a press thing? Why not clear everything up with my word.” All eyes looked to her, even Damian looked questionly at her. “Are you sure?” Asks Jason, worry struck to his face. “An interview would be the better option.” Replies Bruce, all eyes still trained on her. “Then that’s it, that’s what I’ll do.”

She ran her fingers over her hair for what was probably the 100th time in the last hour. Smoothing over her skirt probably even more frequent.

She was scared, her heart sinking low the entire day it felt like. Each hour that ticked closer to 2 her stomach would twist further.

Dread filled her when the clock showed 1:50. 10 minutes left of life outside of the spotlight. 10 minutes of having only a few people knowing she exists. 10 more minutes of having as normal of a life that she’s had.

Her flats padded against the floor softly, her heartbeat taking up most of the noise in her ears. Sweat beaded down her forehead that she quickly wiped away.

One more hallway until she reached the room they decided to have the interview. They chose a small office, it had a few chairs, a couch, and a table. Pictures hung on the wall along with a large window. It was one of the few small rooms in the manor, but it would fit perfectly.

Her breath got caught in her throat when she passed the living room door. There, walking out was damian. They both stopped in their tracks, as if they again were frozen.

Damian sighed when he looked at her. She adored an off white floral top, a black skirt, and ballet flats. Her hair was slightly curled, well as much as it could due to the short length. Her face appeared bare, besides flushed cheeks and lips painted as red as a fresh rose. Her posture was tight, ridged. She looked about ready to pass out from anxiety.

Damian sighed. “You’re too tense. Relax your shoulders, take a deep breath. It’s not as scary as you think.” Her shoulders instantly lowered, her posture was still ridged. But more natural, and less like a board or robot. “Thanks, I just can’t help but be scared.” She looked away when she spoke, a pain in his heart when she couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “I know, but this is Vicki Vale. She’s not as bad as most reporters.” He replied. A soft smile on her face appeared. “So she’s not a Vulture?” She giggled, causing Damian to lightly roll his eyes.

She walked by him, down the hallway to the room. Significantly more relaxed. When her back fully turned to him, a soft smile adorned his face as he lightly chuckles under his breath.

When she reaches the hard wood door, she stops. She takes in a shaky breath, her heart again pounding. She reaches up and takes her necklace into her fingers, running her thumb over it a few times. Instantly calming her slightly. She again takes in a large breath, and turns the knob and opens the door.

Walking in she instantly spited the large camera, the man behind it, the lights, along with a blonde woman standing in front of the camera. The woman who she recognizes to be Vicki, walks to her putting her hand out. She shook it lightly, hand still slightly shaky. Both of them walked over to the two chars, now facing each other. “Alight in 3,2,1. Go.”

Vicki turns to her, with a smile on her face “Hi there I’m reporter Vicki Vale,” “hello there, it’s nice to have you here.” She replied, a soft smile on her face. Her heart beat going down slightly. “Thank you for having me here. Now, why don’t we start this off with who you are?” Vicki asks. “My name is Saundra Todd.” Both the camera man, and Vicki gasp. Shock written on their face. “Todd? As in?” A small chuckle escapes under her breath. “Yes, as in the daughter of Jason Todd.” Vickis eyes widen further, not even trying to hide the shock in her face. “But, hasn’t he been dead for years? I don’t understand, he passed when he was 15?” Vicki asks, “funny you say that, cause he’s alive.” Both Vicki and the camera man gasp even more. “When my dad was 14, he had a stalker. At first it wasn’t so bad. A couple letters,both Bruce and Jason thought it was weird but the letters were harmless. They thought it was probably just a girl or boy around his age who thought he was cute. But overtime the lets became more concerning. They would go from nice to lashing out, each one getting worse. Bruce hired an investigator to find who it was, but they came up empty. One night, when my dad was 15, him and Bruce got into an argument. He left. He was wandering around the city that night. He had grown up on the streets so he knew where he was going. Well, before he knew it, he was knocked out. He was taken by his stalker who followed him, to an abandoned warehouse. He, beat my father so heavily, that he passed out. The guy was sure he killed him, and left. Later that night, Bruce called the police, and someone had tipped them that they heard screaming from the warehouse. Officer Jim Gordon was the one who found him. They took him to the hospital. And there, Bruce, Jim and my dad, made a plan. They decided to fake my fathers death. And have him leave the country. And so he did. He went to Europe. He had a fake name, fake aliace, everything. Well a few years passed, and they caught the man. When Bruce called him telling him, my dad said he wanted to stay. And there he stayed. For 5 years my father stayed in Europe. Well when he was 23, he decided he wanted to come home. He didn’t take up the Wayne bane, or come back announcing he was alive. Over the years he grew comfortable being out of the spotlight. And so, he moved into a small apartment. He’s not my real dad, he actually found me. I was an orphan, had been for a long time. I was living on the streets at the time. And one day, he saw me. I was only 17 at the time. And he offered me a place, and here we are.”

“I just, wow. I can’t believe he’s been alive this entire time. Is he ever wanting to come out himself?” Vicki asks. “I don’t know, he’s pretty comfortable where he’s at now. I was too until well, you know.” She laughed, causing Vicki to chuckle. “Very true, Gotham isn’t very forgiving in that department. Especially since you’re seen with the Wayne family.” Her heart was no longer feeling like it would fall out her chest, now feeling comfortable. “Oh yeah, especially since I’ve been staying here the last month.” Confusion written on Vickis face. “Oh? And why’s that?” She asks her. “My father went back to Europe to visit some of his friends for a while, I chose to stay here in Gotham.” “Now, I gotta ask, what’s your father like? I mean we haven’t seen him in over a decade.” A soft laugh leaves her at the question. “He’s absolutely amazing. He’s incredibly caring, he’s always looking out for me. But being that he’s only 6 years older than me, he's kinda like a big brother to me at the same time. He’s also a huge dork, he’ll go at any length to make me laugh. He’s the best father I could ask for. But it always hasn’t been that way. When I first went to stay there, we barely talked. It wasn’t just an instant father daughter bond. Hell, he didn’t adopt me for a few months. He’s not like Bruce who has adoption papers in his jacket.” She chuckles. Everyone turned to the door when they heard large laughter behind the door. Vicki turned to her mouthing ‘who?’ “Oh that would be my uncle. He’s quite Nosy.” She chuckles. The door opens to appear dick. “Hey, I just was passing by.” He laughs. She turns her body to him, now the camera on both of them. “Oh suurree you were, Richard.” She teases. Making him chuckle and point a finger at her. “Hey you know my name ya little shit.” He laughs. “Oh I’m sorry, should I call you Ric? Ricky? Oh how about Richie rich?” Everyone in the room now laughing so much they’re clutching their sides, loving the banter between them. Dick bends over and chuckles at her. “You really are just like your father you shit.”he teases. “Oh but you love me.” She teases back, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Okay now that was one of the funniest things I’ve seen.” Vicki laughs, both her and sandy sitting back down. “Oh you’d die if you saw how bad we get. I’m always messing with everyone here.” She chuckles, now totally comfortable. “I bet I would, now, mind if we get to the topic that everyone’s been waiting for?” Vicki asks. “I was wondering when we’d get to that.” She chuckles. “Alright, so, the biggest one that everyone’s been wondering has been you and Tim.” Sandy sighs and takes a drink of the water beside her. “We’re only friends. He’s actually my best friend. The cameras just caught us off guard when we went out for coffee. He saw that I was panicked and hid me in his jacket. There’s nothing romantic between him and I.” She chuckles. “Now the other one people have been wondering, you were spotted for a while with Damian Wayne. And some photos of you guys, looked a little less platonic than you and Tim. Is there anything going on?” Vicki asks. A pain shoots through her heart at the question. Causing her to sigh. “There nothing going on between Damian and I either. My dad introduced me first to him, being that we are the same age. That’s just how we are.” “Oh alright, you guys just seemed to be a bit more flirty in the photos.” Vicki replies. Causing her to chuckle. “And why didn’t anyone just assume I’m naturally flirty.” Shr chuckles, winking at the camera.

It’s as if overnight everything changed, no more the gold digger, mystery girl, anything negative that was said was whipped clean. ‘Late son of Bruce Wayne Jason Todd alive!? And has a daughter!’ ‘The new member of the Wayne family’ ‘Saundra Todd, all we know about the new Wayne family member.’

Of course a part of her was happy, after all the nasty tabloids, it was a nice change to see. But she was also worried. No longer able to have a small bubble she had been in her entire life. No longer being able to go out and not spotted. No longer having a personal life. It was daunting really, but she took it in stride, deciding that she should use her now small bit of fame for better.

Shortly after the interview, she was in the works for a fundraiser for homeless children and teens, to raise money for good shelters that provided what the children needed.

Dinner had finished long ago, most of everyone had left the dining room and left for either their rooms, or wherever in the manor they chose.

Alfred sat in the library, reading. Sandy had offered to do the dishes for him, claiming that he needs his time for himself to rest besides sleep. He didn’t argue, knowing the extent of how stubborn she could get, especially when it came to helping. It truly warmed his heart though, how much she truly wanted to help the aging butler. He wasn’t as fast or had as much energy as when the boys were all young. He knew this, having turned 81 early in the year. So having her help him around the manor took a lot of the weight off of him.

He was halfway through the book when Damian walked in. Not paying much attention to the young man, until he sat down in one of the chairs. He looked over to see damians eyes on the paper. He watched as he picked it up, opening it, watching as a scowl grew on his face. Damian set the paper down onto the table and got up abruptly. “Master Damian, something troubling you?” He asked. Concerned for him. “She seems to be loved real quick.” Damian replies, annoyance evident in his tone. “Why yes, Miss Todd has made a good impression in the city recently.”

Damian sighed, looking away. Anger still present on his face. “Yeah if only they saw what she was really like. They'd probably change their tune.”

Alfred set his book down onto the table, looking at him with annoyance written on his face. “This is how Miss Todd is. She is a kind, loving, and wonderful young woman. And I am sick of hearing how you speak to her all because of what happened. Everyday I watch as the poor girls heart breaks whenever you act the way you do. I put up with this arrogant attitude when you were young but now it’s just childish. I understand you are in pain master Damian but she is just as much. You were after all her first too. I am very disappointed in how immature you’re acting. I helped to raise you differently.” Alfred never yelled at any of them. Never once has they heard the elderly man raise his voice in a yell. But he always had a way to scold each of them without ever raising his voice.

Pain shoots through damians heart when Alfred told him this. It grew even worse when he walked out of the room. He never truly thought about it, about that it hurt her as well. He was so consumed by his hurt that he reverted back to how he was years ago. His heart thumps in pain when he remembered all the times he’s seen her face contort in pain, all the tears he’s seen stream down her face. But confusion fills him, he was her first? She had never mentioned being with anyone else. He just assumed she had. Pain grows in him further, but he doesn’t understand why.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was your first?” He asks abruptly. Jumping her and causing her to drop a cup in the sink. He watched as her face goes from shock to pained when she looked at him. She quickly looked back to the cup in the sink, picking it back up to wash. “What?” She asks, still not looking at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump you. But, why didn’t you tell-“ “you were my first everything Damian. The first guy I had feeling for, first date I ever had. My first kiss. Everything.” Her voice slightly cracked when she muttered kiss. Tears welled up in her eyes. Pain shots through him watching as she tries holding in the tears. “You were my first too, I just don’t understand why you didn’t-“ “she didn’t have to tell you anything. Now why don’t you leave her be.” Both of them turn their eyes to the door, seeing Tim standing there. His arms were crossed over his chest, standing ridged. Face contorted in annoyance and anger at him. Anger fills him as he looks at Tim. “I was just simply asking.” He spat, anger prevalent in his tone. “Well sorry. With how you talk to her, can’t help but worry when you open your mouth.” Tim says, anger dripping in his tone. Both men stood in front of one another, Damian clenching his fists tightly at his sides. “Do is all a favor and just leave. You’ve done enough to hurt her. Making her remember isn’t gonna help anyone.” Anger grows further at tims words. “Oh didn’t know you were her bodyguard.” He replied, annoyance and sarchasm heavy in his words. “No, it’s simply just being her friend.” Tim turns to her, anger subsided when he sees her. “Come on let's go watch a movie.” He asks her.

They both walk to the door of the kitchen, but before leaving, Tim turns to him. “Just remember, you brought this onto yourself.”

[stuff-i-like-to-share]

Fanfics i would Love to read but not talented enough to write them myself...

.... fanfics... or even better if that was actual scenes in season 4!

1. Gilbert seating on the train writing a draft of his letter to Anne, getting emotional, passionate not noticing old lad seating next to him with his wife looking at eachother smiling at young love. Telling him a short story of their love and how they have been separated and how they would suprise eachother by visiting every now and then.

2. Anne talking to Diana and deciding not to tell anyone about her and Gilbert before she actually speak with him... which later on will pay of in girls faces when they see them kissing lol

3. Anne receiving her first letter from Gilbert and being over the moon, sending her own letter straight away and meeting young intelligent boy at the post office which turnes out is at queens aswel.

4. Gilbert and Anne meeting new people, having their lessons and studies and writing little notes to add their letters, collecting little flowers, making it very personal.

5. Gilbert being jealous over this new boy which Anne mentioned in 3 letters already. Doing extra work to finish his studies few days earlier to travel to Charlottetown and see Anne.

6. All girls seating outside, learning, talking romance, Anne and Diana giving eachother side looks because nobody knows about Gilbert yet... Anne getting very emotional she havent seen Gilbert in 2months while Ruby talking about daily walks with Moody.. her eyes tear up, girls are like ohh r you ok Anne when one of them look up from their blanket and bw like: oh, Gilbert whatever you doing here...

Anne jumped up straight into his arms, he swings her around in a massive hug, then they about to kiss, tios of their lips about to touch when Diananotice Girls faces and goes like: uhmm

Gilbert and Anne look at all the suprised girls, get a bit shy, Gilbert let's Anne out of his tight hug and they stand there looking at eachother for short while, Gilbert is like: ladies... if you dont mind I would like to steal Anne for a... looks at Anne not knowing what to say, but she finish his sentence for him: tea! There's certain matters we need to discuss with Gil... with Mr. Blythe... she says while looking at Gilbert's dreamy eyes... Girls being so confused and shocked by whole situation just nods while they walk out through back gate.

7. The moment they are away enough from girls and the boarding house Gilbert swing Anne in the air again with the cutest smile, she laughs, then they step to the side of little quiet road and he kiss like theres no tomorrow...

Talk about their studies... then walk past tea house and Gilbert is like, oh we are here and Anne look at him with a cheeky smile... shes like oh we are not really going to have a tea are we.. its dull and full of boring people.. Gilbert laughs at memory of being awkward with Winfred at one of them tea houses.

Anne takes Gilbert to one of her favourite parks, they walk by the water.. theres a small patch of grass surrounded by trees, Sun sneaking through the branches, they are finally alone and kissing and cuddling... they sat on the grass talking, laughing, simply staring into eachothers eyes... they lie down cloud gazing playing with each hands, hair...

8. Gilbert walking Anne back to her house, talking about leaving to Avonlea and telling everyone, both but stressed about their families reaction... they stop by the gate to avoid Anne getting kn trouble, hold eachothers hands. Gilbert's is like: so... we are... courting? Its official! Anne gives him a shy smile: I still cant belive it... Gilbert gives her a soft kiss and tells her he will come and see her at queens next day so the can travel together back to Avonlea.

9. Anne back to her room where she is immediately flooded by questions from all the girls... You kissed him, he kissed you in public, oh that's nothing like Gilbert we knows.. Anne stands there waiting for them to calm down and simply just say: I'm in love with Gilbert Blythe for a while now, and what I recently been informed about, hes been (she srops realising he never actually said he loves her...) ... having feeling for me aswel, for a while... we will be seeing our families tomorrow as we are offering courting.. girls get all hyped, asking questions if hes a good kisser Ruby throws a little comment that she actually always was confused when she thought hes looking at her but it was more like he was staring at Anne and that shes happy for her...

(Sorry... long list... I didint realised km so needy and desperate for fanfics 🙈)

10. All Anne can think if at school is fact that she is going to see Gilbert very soon and they will travel together back home...

She bumped into her friend, Roy which btw also have feeling for her and jokingly often admits he thinks Anne's is the most beautiful girl at queens etc... which Anne is ignoring as all she thinks of Gilbert and studies.

They walk out of school together, Roy lean and whisper somwthkng into Anne's ear, she laughs and notice Gilbert, wave at him, theyvwalk towards eachother. Gilbert's jaw is pulsing, hes jealous. Anne introduces them to each other and Gilbert have a little flashback to when he was introducing Winnie to Anne and disint know how to refer to Winfred, Anne did almost the same thing as it's actually first time she have to introduce Gilbert as her bou. Boys shake their hands bit stronger than they should, Anne says goodbye to Roy and her friends, Gilbert then offers her his arm to hold on to while looking at Roy standing and watching them walk away.

11. Gilbert is bit confused and worried, he isnt talking much on the way back, Anne is so excited shes doing most of the talking.. she noticed Gilbert acting wierd and asks, he then have tiny emotional tantrum and tells her he doesnt like the way this Roy guy is into her... she laughs and tells him theres nothing there, beside the only person she cares about... she ... loves its Gilbert.. he smiles, hold her hand... she then get a bit worried because its been 3 times when she said it out loud she loves him and Gilbert didint say it back.

12. They decided to invite Gilbert's family for dinner to Green Gables and then tell them together so when they get out of the train and see Matthew they being careful not to look to excited. Matthew offer Gilbert a ride back home and noticed little looks between Anne and Gilbert.

13. The dinner ready, Gilbert, Bash and Deli arrives at Green Gables, all the way Bash was giving Gilbert side looks with a cheeky smile and asking what so important they have to go to dinner tonight and not some other day... Gilbert just smiles and says its was Anne's idea on their way back from train station.. Marila opens the door calling for Matthew and Anne..

Anne come downstairs, Gilbert gets up with the most hearty eyes, theyblook at eachother for a while, and everyone e in the room glance at Anne then Gilbert, Marila and Bash look at eachother with a smile, Matthew looks a little bit concerned...

14. Anne stand in the middle of the room, Gilbert walks to her with a smile, turn around and stand by her side, they look at each other with a shy smile, he then pick up Anne's hand and while holding it dearly in his both hands he say something like: Marila, Matthew, Sebastian... Delphine (with a little smile as she giggle at he uncle)

We have some news, I mean... I would like to ask your permission first, ofcourse... uhmm

I would like to ask your permission to court with Anne... uhm... we recently discovered we both... have feelings for eachother... (Anne give him a concerned side look as again he wont say he loves her)

I needs to know if you Marila and Mathew gives us your... blessing..

They look at each other, Marila stands up, walked to them, hold their hands with tears in her eyes saying that shes so happy for them and their happiness and love is what matters... Bash alsongwts up and hug Gilbert with biggest smile saying he knew it and that he is so happy for them.. Anne then looks at Matthew which looks a bit sad.. gilbert then says: Matthew?

And hes like: if Anne's happy I am aswel, gets up and shakes Gilbert's hand, Anne hugs him.

15. They all seating alntalking, laughingnover the dinner table, Anne playing with Deli and Gilbert joining her, Matthew and Marila getting emotional as this is another big step towards losing their precious Anne.

16. Bash joking around, quietly saying to Marila about them behaving like perfect parents. Matthew then walking out but emotional.. Both Anne and Gilbert looking at eachother, Anne wanted Ringo but Gilbert telling her to stay and walking out behind Matthew. Then having a heartwarming conversation, telling Matthew how much he cares for Anne.

17. Anne kissing Gilbert goodbye and Bash seeing it, making comments about it on their way back home.

18. Anne and Gilbert going for walk... Gilbert being cheeky and keep touching Anne's hands, hair, face... talking about feeling when Anne suddenly tear up and tells him she wants to go back home, take a turn thru the woods, Gilbert all confused ran after her asking what's wrong, She then have a little go at him that shes scared he dowsnt really love her because it's been months and he never actually said he loves her... he then loom into her eyes, hold her face in his hands and tells her: I am in love with you Anne, my Anne with an e, I'm in love with you since i remember, it's always been you Anne...

He kiss her then and after the kiss shes all like: but why dont you say it..

He looked at her with sad eyes: I'm afraid of losing you Anne, most of people I ever loved are gone... I cant lose you Anne, I... love you to much, it hurts just thinking about losing you...

He seats on fallen tree, tell her a story of his mothers death while giving him birth, of his brothers dieing one after another to illness... then his father.. and dear Mary... he opens up and cry while she listens and hold his hand.

She then tells him how much sorry she is for being selfish and forcing him to say it, but he wont mind as it's been a while since he could open up like this and it feels so right to talk to his Anne.

They hug and talk about how Mary would be happy for them, Anne recalls his father and fact he said he herd alot about her and Gilbert getting all shy saying he told him alot abt Anne because even then he would not stop caring about her, back then he wasnt sure what it was, it was pulling him towards Anne, only recently he realised it's always been love...

Then they say it together and laugh...

19. As they are walking out of the forest Anne tripped and fall into a ditch, Gilbert laughs recalling the day Marila was talking about Anne in the ditch, asking her if that's how her adventures looks like and as shes a bit upset with him at first she also laughs saying he is her biggest adventure now...

20. Then as he helps her out, they stand and laughs, he gives her a soft kiss, Rachel Lynde watches it from nearby as she was just walking back from ms. Stacy's...

All shocked she rushed to Green Gables to talk to Marila... Markla gives he a little talk about being young and in love and maybe if she would listen to her heart she would be married now... as they talk Anne and Gilbert walks into the kitchen laughing... they both look ar Rachel bit scared of her comments.. but she gaze at Marile for short while thinking, then she gets up, walkes to them and congratulate them with a little cheeky comment about kissing...

21. They are back to their schools, emotional and full of love goodbyes, girls sneakily watching them and giggling...

22. Series of letters, Roy finding one of Anne's letters she left in one of her books he borrowed... then making a declaration.. Anne feeling overwhelmed as she does like Roy alot and woildnt want to ruin their friendship... bit of an argument between Anne and Gilbert, Roy trying to kiss her and she slapping his face...

23. Christmas back in Avonlea, together one big happy family... Anne and Gilbert sneaking out at night to spend time together... kissing and rolling in the barn...

24. Anne having a flashback from orphanage and Gilbert asking what's wrong, atvfitstvshe doesn't want to tell him but one night they talk and she opens up and tells him everything, about being bullied and treated like trash... about her imagination helping her get trough... about how broken she always felt and never couldn't even imagine being loved, and having so many loving people in her life... she would tell him about how worried she was her parents have her away because they disint love her as she was an ugly redheaded baby... Gilbert then kisses her single messy braid and tells her how much he loves her red hair and how much he Hope's their children will have same hair as her.. she then freaks out a little because she never actually thought about children and the way Gilbert talks it sounds so natural for him... she then look at him with a smile: out babies?

And gilbert is like: oh gosh, I I didint meant to scare you... but.. dont you think about... our future Anne? Coz I do.. alot he admits with a bit shy face..

She then say she only imagine their future together but she never actually thought about children... he get a bit stressed but then she adds that now he mentioned it, she also is looking forward to having a child, maybe two... they laugh and joke about it a little ... Bash and Ms. Stacy get married which course outbreak but after several years of secretly meeting and falling more in love they decided to go against the system. She ends up losing her job as a teacher but she writes books and articles to newspapers instead while pregnant with their first child. She also moves in with Bash his mother and Deli as Gilbert told Bash that after school he wont be living with them anymore. Elijah moves out as he met lovely girl himself, got married and lives outside Charlottetown, visiting them often and always helping with the harvest.

25. New years eve, theres a ball, dancing, beautiful scenes of them having fun together... Gilbert taking Anne back to green Gables.. he turn towards the cliffs... they walk together to the cliffs end, stand there looking into stars, he then drop on his knee, holding a ring, a beautiful ring and ask her to marry him, which she obviously say yes to.

26. Time skip with a bit of letters between them and their lives at school etc... suprised visits and going back home..

Matthew having another heart attack, being bed stuck, Jerry rushing to get a doctor but it's to far and they wouldn't make it, Matthew dieing with Anne and Marila by his bed... Gilbert coming to Avonlea back from his practice next day, Bash tells him what happened,bhe rush to Green Gables and Fojnd Anne in awful state.. Jerry explain to him he went to fetch the doctor from other town but it was to late... he apologise to Anne for not being here, she tells him it's not his fault... but he feels responsible for not being close to his family... he decides to come back and be a town doctor after all his school and practice is finished...

28. Anne after getting approval from mrs lacroix (stacy) applied and got the job as a teacher in Avonlea school, helping Marila as shes still very unstable after losing Matthew.

29. Then beautiful wedding in Avonlea... Marila crying.. Anne missing Matthew dearly.. lots of memories, laughs and dancing...

30. When Anne got the job as a teacher she also got the house ms Stacy useto lived in, she decided to stay at green Gables until theh get married but she got the house already for them week before the wedding.

They get back home, to their very own home, Anne is so happy it's in the woods as she always felt special connection to nature...

They have wonderful night and sweet love making, both happy in eachothers arms, enjoying the rest of their life together...

Gilbert suggest to Anne that she could write a book same as ms Stacy which she starts very next day...

31. Another skip in time... Anne giving birth, Gilbert doing his best, baby is breached, hes scared of losing Anne, of losing them both. Marila is there aswel... Baby is finally born but it isnt crying... Gilbert pass the baby to Marila and take care of Anne... she walks out quickly to check on the baby as therws still not a single cry in the house, Anne is bleeding alot, but asking for her baby... he walked in to the kitchen Marila standing there crying, he take baby if her hands and wrap aswel, their very first baby, product of their undying love didint survive the labour... he hugged his child pressing him to his chest, kissed his head... he then walked back to Anne's room... Marilenherd loud moan and deep desperate cry, shes crying herself... Gilbert asked if Anne wants to say her goodbyes. She said yes and hold her baby in her arms crying... they gold a little funeral two days after... Anne is devastated... her and Gilbert having a breakdown together crying...

32. Two years later Gilbert find himself worrying for his wife's life once agin... it was hard for them to decide tontryvfor another baby... Anne wanted it and now Gilbert is scared to death about his Anne and baby to come. Luckily this time everything went smoothly with mo single complication, baby cries and they both hold it together crying of happiness.

Then years later Anne writing another book, while their children are playing together outside of green Gables... Marilas dying wish was for Anne ro have Green Gables, it was her home and she wanted Anne and her family to live happy life in there...

Gilbert is backnfeom work, they seat on the porch, drinking tea, looking at eachother with hearty eyes, talking about their achievements kids keep running up to them, hugging and kissing them. They smile, stand up watching their 6 children being cheeky.

I love you Carrots...

I love you to Gil...

Then they kiss with even more passion than ever...

The end...

Gosh that possibly the longest post I ever wrote... when I started I had only abt 15 ideas... but as I wrote more and more... even more ideas came to my head... sorry for a long bit messy read... just wanted to share some of things that kept me awake since we found out about s4 being cancelled...

Anyway.... hope you enjoyed it... sorry for any mistakes... will proofread tomorrows as today its been a while since I started writing this...

[xfreelycolorfulx]

Camping Conundrum-BedeXOC

HAHA ITS SELF INDULGENCE TIME FELLAS STRAP IN

If you dont like OC x Canon literally just dont read it 🙈❤️

—

Cold...So cold!

The days it snowed in the Wild Area were some of the worst; Gabrielle didn’t actively carry a set of thicker clothes for this situation. Bad on her, she supposes, but her rucksack is heavy enough! Her hands had an iron grip on her upper arms in a pathetic attempt to keep herself warm, thin frame shivering almost as pathetically. Her shaky breaths came in small puffs, visibly clouding into the air, occasionally distracting her for a few seconds before cold struck again. The abundance of flakes were merciless on their way down, paying no mind to her already reddened nose as they made it their homeland for a few moments before melting, only furthering her torture.

A displeased whine crept out of her lips, arm raising to wipe her nose after a sniffle. Oddly enough, the snow was so light, it seemed to just melt upon making impact with the grass. The snow didn’t tend to last long either, a few hours, at most. Weird, but nobody seemed to question that fact anymore. With a gentle smile, her frozen fingers brushed the pokeballs at her hip, glad that her precious pokemon were safe and warm. They were what mattered, she could worry about being warm herself in one of the Budew Inns later; or so she thought. As her gaze lifted back to the sky, dread crashed down in a heavy weight as she noticed the sky darkening, only lit by the fading pink-orange on the distant skyline. Brows furrowing in distraught, her gloved fingers thread through her hair, other hand moving to hold her cap to let her do so.

“Of course… Just my luck.” Shaking it off, Gabrielle affirmed herself; now is no time to be negative! Setting her cap back into its proper place, a smirk made way to her confident posture before she hunched over again, the breeze deciding then would be a good moment to pass by. Shuddering until the breeze passed, she let herself crumble to the floor, a defeated sigh heaving from her chest. The Snover sheltered in nearby grass peered curiously at her, a handful of Stuffuls bounding out to sniff curiously at her form and bag, a few sitting at her front to chirp cutely and wave their front arms. With a small laugh, her hand reached to brush against the one closest to her. The Stufful pressed into the affection with a happy squeal, nuzzling its cheek into her palm, allowing itself to be pet before her hand pulled away shortly. Gabrielle knew better, Stuffuls were forces to be reckoned with, and she didn’t want to stimulate it into a battle mood. Although seeming momentarily disappointed, the Stufful went back to its previous activities. She hummed, stripping herself of her rucksack, “Guess there’s no better time to camp then now!” She smiled, turning it around the pull off her camping gear, “Ahh~ Nothing sounds better than a warm bowl of curr-”

Her monologue was cut off as her hands brushed a nearly empty rucksack, at least of the largely needed objects she’d needed. A confused and panicked ‘ah?’ came from her lips, hands messing with the contents of her rucksack, double-- no, triple checking-- each pocket with growing panic. After the search, she came up fruitless, shoulders sagging as she let the bag slip from her grip and gently fall into the grass. Of course. She had forgotten her camping gear; the most essential set a trainer could have, especially in the Wild Area… and she didn’t have it. Swallowing harshly, Gabrielle whimpered as she bit back a frustrated sob, eyes clenched shut to prevent the flow of her oncoming tears. In place of her cries, her body sat quaking, her head ducked in shame and fists clenched against her knees. This night possibly couldn’t get any worse!

“What are you doing? You look more pathetic than usual.”

Bede.

Her head shot up at the familiar voice, nearly giving herself whiplash as she turned to look at him, startling him for a split-second. Bede was a familiar sight nearly everywhere she went, though, Gabrielle never expected to see him here. At least, not now, nor in this weather! She shot up, rushing over to him and grasping his shoulders with a broad smile, making him reel back in surprise, “Bede! Am I glad to see you!” Glad? Why is she glad? His brows scrunched in confusion, mouth opening to prod at her situation further before she moved to decide and do so herself.

“What luck! I don’t have any of my camping gear, it’s snowing, and I’m almost an icicle.” He seemed unmoved, staring at her blankly, “Yeah, I know, stupid of me! Right. ‘No less to expect from a nobody’ or whatever it is you say. But… I really need your help right now! You have your camping gear, and even if you leave now, I doubt you’d make it to the nearest city in good time. Can I please,” she emphasized her begging, “camp out with you? At least for tonight?”

Bede sat, almost flustered as he turned his head sharply to turn away from her, not daring to meet her gaze and succumb to the puppy-dog eyes Gabrielle was very much using to attempt and sway him. Taking a moment to answer, giving him time to collect himself, he brushed her hands off of his shoulders and glared her down, a smirk making way to his face. “Share a tent with somebody like you? Please, I among many others know you’re nobody important! You may have beat me twice before, w-which I let happen of course!” He cursed himself for stuttering, “But you’re not worth the time for something like that.”

Glancing at her, he tensed, startled by her dropping smile, so outwardly sad that she looked like a kicked puppy. Seeing Gabrielle look so… defeated… It didn’t feel as good as he thought it would, not even close. In fact, it kind of hurt. His confident stature slowly dropped, eyes shut as he fought himself internally. He didn’t like feeling this way, there was a dull ache in his chest, and he didn’t want to disappoint. Opening them, he sighed and crossed his arms, gaze settling to the brush beside her.

“Although...:” A small blush tinted at his cheeks at her hopeful gaze he noticed in his peripherals, hands clutching at her chest, “I’m not completely heartless… I’ll allow it.” Though he grumbled this out, she had heard it well, rising to throw her arms carelessly around his form, nearly knocking the two of them over. He choked on his breath, attempting to push her off in vain, “D-Don’t touch me!”

Gabrielle only squeezed tighter, chanting her thanks into Bede’s shoulder like her life depended on it. Letting him go, she wrung her hands as he brushed off the front of his jacket. That damn jacket, he was lucky, it almost taunted her. It was large, puffy, and obviously very warm, the end of it reaching his knees. She shivered unconsciously, watching him set up his own camp, making a petty remark about her not assisting him in pitching the tent. Gabrielle apologized softly, stating she would have helped, but she doubted her shaking hands would help him set the tent right. Bede knew she was right, but gave a small eye roll in response, because he’d never admit such a thing.

Once the tent was propped up, Bede was pleasantly surprised at Gabrielle setting down an armful of wood, setting it into a neat pile for a fire. She stepped back, reaching for her belt, tossing a pokeball between her hands a few times before tossing it forward, allowing a Centiskorch into the field. Gabrielle rose a hand to carefully stroke two fingers along the top of its head, “Bede, you remember Ashe, right?” He nodded; of course he did, the thing helped her sweep his entire team, though he rose a brow, forgetting she had nicknamed her pokemon. She stepped back from the wood pile, asking rather than demanding--as most would in battle- for the Centiskorch to light the fire for them. Without hesitation, Ashe churred in response, obediently doing as told.

The fire quickly crackled to life; luckily, the snow hadn’t made the logs and branches too wet. Gabrielle threw herself down, sitting as close as she could without it burning, “Ahhh!~” Her body sagged in relief, Ashe settling nearby, disliking the cold as much as her trainer. The wild Pokemon nearby quickly scuttled off, not wanting to be near the blaze. Bede kept back, attention brought to her shivering again. She’s still cold? Why, the fire is lit, right? This is when he took a moment to realize how long she had actually wandered in the cold, her fingertips quaking and red. When she had grabbed his shoulders, he could visibly see the flush on her cheeks and the discoloration of her nose. Clearly, Gabrielle had been out for hours. Bede sighed, shaking his head, expecting nothing less. He knew she was capable of great things, lest he ever tell her that, but she was obviously careless about a lot of things too.

Bede sighed audibly once more, taking it upon himself to remove the jacket that had been secured around him pretty much his entire journey, hesitating in a moment of self doubt. Willing himself, he approached with the jacket, open in hand, and--in a moment of panic--more or less threw it on top of her, throwing off her weight. Once catching herself, Gabrielle glanced at Bede, who had silently plopped himself by the fire a good foot or two away from her. Pulling his arms flush across his chest, his cheeks flared in a familiar flush as his gaze darted away from her form. She sat silent, only smiling softly, huddling herself into the warmth with a quiet coo.

The pair sat in silence for a while, Bede seeming to only hunch further into himself every glance he took towards her. Huddling into its warmth, Gabrielle hummed in content, seeming to bring some sort of ease to Bede’s initial panic. The fire continued to crackle as the night bore on, the sky darkening slowly. Tossing a smile to Bede, Gabrielle softly inquired, “Why not let out the Pokemon for a while? Make some curry? I don’t think either of us have had dinner.” Without waiting for an answer, her hands reached to cluster the pokeballs at her hip into her palm. Allowing them to enlarge, she tossed them lightly away from the fire, the five remaining Pokemon burst from the pokeballs. As soon as they had finally set, they quickly perked to nestle up by the fire. Turning to Bede, Gabrielle eyed his own pokeballs before glancing back up at him, “Your turn, I’m sure your pokemon would enjoy a little leisure!”

Bede’s nose wrinkled a bit, “As if you know what they’d enjoy…” Contrary to his statement, he nudged the four pokeballs into his palm. Tossing them almost carelessly, or seemingly so, as he normally would for any battle, the four Pokemon of his own joining the group. The Pokemon were a welcome sight, even the blank ‘stare’ of his Hattrem. After they settled themselves, his Ponyta and Hattrem excitedly moved up to nudge against Bede affectionately, his Duoision and Gothorita instead going to peer at Gabrielle’s own Pokemon in curious familiarity. Although Bede tried playing it off as if he was trying to push away his Pokemon’s loving touches, he sat contently and let them do so, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. As Gabrielle watched the interaction, she tilted her head curiously, “Hey, Bede? Do you nickname your Pokemon?” She knew he never referred to nicknames in battle, but he might in private, right?

“What? Why would I do something so childishly trivial as that?” Wrong. He turned his gaze towards her, looking almost bewildered by the question. Gabrielle pouted in disappointment before perking back up and crossing her arms confidently, “Alright, then I’ll do it myself!”

“No, you can’t-”

“Too bad! Hmm… The Ponyta is definitely a Cotton Candy!”

“You’re not naming it tha-”

“Hm… The Gothorita seems like a Muffin.”

“Are you serious-”

“The Hattrem is Eloise.”

“That actually… isn’t too bad-”

“I dub the Duoision… Jello-Mello!”

“I hate you.” Bede groaned, burying his head in his hands, further showing his disapproval. Gabrielle only snickered, pressing a playful finger into one of his now-puffed cheeks, “No you don’t~”

He snorted, gently slapping her hand away from his face and moved to lightheartedly sneer at her. Her hand obediently fell back into her lap, but the grin on her face only grew in turn. While it was true Bede didn't hate Gabrielle, he tried multiple times to convince himself he had at least disliked her, but even now the events unfolding before him tonight were proving otherwise. It kind of... terrified him; it was clear to many—especially after learning of his backstory—that Bede wasn’t one to know how to handle his own emotions very well. Chairman Rose is all he has, and assumes he ever will have, he can’t lose focus and disappoint him now. He can’t. He can’t…

A soft brush against Bede’s arm knocked him out of his stupor, his gaze out of it for a moment as his eyes met the Ponyta sliding its snout along his forearm in concern. Bede sighed, frame relaxing and a hand gently brushed through its mane in a silent thanks. His fingers slid through his platinum blond hair, bangs lifting and falling perfectly back into place.

“Are you alright, Bede?”

As if his previous thoughts had made him forget the entire world around him, Bede jolted at the sound of the female voice; he had forgotten how close she was. He felt vulnerable, hands wringing in his lap, why did she have to notice?! Of course she’d notice, she’s close enough as it is, but you’re being awfully obvious! His hands stopped wringing to allow him to clench his fists carefully. Get ahold of yourself. His eyes lid almost tiredly, in no mood for his usual witty responses at the time.

“...Yeah.”

And that was that. Gabrielle knew better than to push into his emotions, no matter how badly her playful nature really wanted to. Though her concerned gaze remained on him for a while, the pair sat silently. She remained quiet before glancing up at the stars slowly gathering above, thinking of a topic to change the mood. Gabrielle took a moment to watch across the way by the grass , Jello-Mello playing a game of tag with Egg, her Dracozolt, then across the field where Muffin playfully pat at Cider’s—her Appletun’s—back. It was nice seeing them get on after all the battling they've done in the past. The others had either nestled down for sleep or were simply relaxing in the fires warming blaze.

After another long moment of silence, Gabrielle hummed and shuffled to stand, “Nothing cures a quiet night like curry, how about it?” Her voice was soft, though not a whisper, not akin to her usual tone. He only nodded, her smile widening in return. Without a word, he stood to join her, leaving her in momentary silent surprise. Her surprise melted into a soft smile, moving to dig ingredients she had packed in her bags; berries, that is to say. Hopefully Bede has something to add into the pot that’ll spark up a delicious mix! Sifting through her berry collection, Gabrielle tugged a small bag of pecha berries from their confines and glancing over at Bede setting out a pot for the works, carefully starting up the base curry mix.

Bounding over, she offered the bag to Bede, who took it from her with a curt thanks. Removing a pecha berry, the look of momentary shock on his face was evident on his face; did she know he preferred sweet curries or was it just chance? Bede blanched, shaking the thought off, it had to most definitely be chance. Gabrielle smiled, “Do you mind helping me chop them?” He huffed, but took a few from the pile, collecting blades for the two of them to dice the berries up. Bede took the first one, moving to slice the fruit quickly to scoop it into the curry mix before it burned, the berry chunks all different sizes and shapes. Glancing over, he watched Gabrielle’s fruit pieces dice into quaint pieces; sure, they weren't all identical and perfect, but they were fashioned into manageable bite sized pieces.

“What are you rushing for, Bede? The curry isn't going anywhere, it doesn't cook that fast!” Gabrielle laughed between her last few words, causing Bede’s cheeks to redden in embarrassment. He had typically always rushed through his curries at times, deeming he didn’t have enough time to spend slowing down, he needed to train! Before he knew what was happening, her small hands encased his own in a guiding manner, moving to guide him into slicing. With a choke in his breath, his hands quaked in her hold, making some of the bits fairly misshapen. Gabrielle didn't mention it.

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

Once the curry had finally been fully cooked—Gabrielle having had to stir it herself since Bede had been going a bit too fast and spilling some over the edge of the pot—the pair filled their bowls in respective shares for their Pokemon, who all took the food with grateful chirps. Luckily, Bede had a few fruit bunches on hand to make the curry extra sweet! Even though it wasn’t up to par with the curries she usually ate, those being much spicier, she didn't mind having something new that others would prefer.

The Pokémon tucked in rather quickly, Bede’s Pokemon taking delight in the enhanced quality of the food. The teens sat quietly with their own portions, Bede absentmindedly stirring the stock, Gabrielle lifting a spoon and offering it to Bede, “Here!”

His cheeks flushed red, choking, “Y-You’re not going to feed me! I’m not a baby!” His voice gave small crack of embarrassment, disproving his point to some extent.

Gabrielle pouted before her lips lifted into amusement, “I wasn’t going to feed you, I was offering a cheers! Unless… you want me to feed you?~” She was only teasing, but it was fun to push his buttons. The splutter that escaped his mouth was plenty reward. Bede’s mouth open and shut in unsaid words before he lifted his spoon to haphazardly clank against her own to shut her up, in turn making both the utensils contents shift and fall to the ground. With an embarrassed ‘tch’ he looked away and dunked his spoon back into the curry.

“Boo! Don’t be a stinker, Bede! I just want a toast!” She took another scoop, lifting it with a pout. His eyes wandered to her spoon, patiently waiting mid-air. With a defeated sigh, he lifted another spoonful to bump hers, much more gently this time in a successful toast. With a cheer from Gabrielle, they both swallowed their generous scoops of curry. Bede hummed in satisfaction, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the sweet taste.

“I like sweet curry, what luck.” Gabrielle jumped, not expecting him to talk but smiling quickly, swallowing her own bite.

She chuckled softly, waving her spoon, “I know you like them, you mentioned it in a conversation once some time ago.”

I did? Bede was puzzled, he didn’t recall ever mentioning that, and if he did, why it was important enough to remember. She only smiled, taking another bite of the curry, Bede silently following suit after another moment of thought. Many of the Pokémon finished rather quickly, nestling together to sleep for the night. Gaze moving to meet the sky, Gabrielle smiled softly at the comforting presence of the stars, the snow lessening.

Tapping his shoulder, Gabrielle pointed skyward, “Look, the snowfall is clearing up!” Following her gaze, the snow has actually visually lessened, the flakes having not only lowered in number, but also shrunk in size.

With a quiet hum to himself, Bede murmured a quiet, “Seems so…” Gabrielle cooed, snuggling further into the borrowed jacket and smiled against the fabric.

The Pokémon began taking extra shares between their trainers eating slowly, the curry pot finally left empty for the night. The two gaped at the empty pot, having been unaware of their Pokemons escapades for extra food, leading Gabrielle to pout some, but let herself sag in defeat, “Ah well… It’s time we head in anyway.”

She smiled softly, setting the dishes aside to be cleaned properly later on, fully fastening the jacket around her form as the breeze blew just as cold as before. Bede only rubbed lightly at his arms, doing what he could to avoid the breeze. He was tempted to ask for it back, but something about her content and… generally want to wear his jacket struck a hidden cord in Bede; what was this feeling? He didn’t understand why her wanting him around had affected him in such a way, he didn’t care, right?

A small yelp came from him as Gabrielle's Drizzile, Bahari, was quick to put out the fire. She shot him an apologetic smile for spooking him, the smile returned with a dignant huff, as if he hadn’t been startled at all. Once the fire had died down, Bede silently made a trek for the tent, a yawn squeaking its way past his lips. “Ah, wait!” A sharp tug at the back of his shirt almost knocked him back to the floor, and the front to choke him for a moment. Bede turned to glare at his attacker, Gabrielle shrinking sheepishly, “Sorry!”

Standing straighter, her fingers idly twirled in her locks, “I was wondering if you’d like to stargaze for a while? You don't have to! But the snowfall is clearing, I think it’d be nice.” Bede quirked a brow at her behavior, she never usually seemed so bashful about asking him to do anything before. His exhaustion was clear by his half lid eyes and the soft scowl on his features, but despite this—

“Sure.”

Both appeared surprised by his answer, Gabrielle brightening and Bede taking a moment to question if he had made a mistake. Her hand clasped his own once more, tugging him to sit at the end of the tent where the door sat open. Sitting indian style, Bede promptly ignored the feeling of her knee brushing his, no matter what sort of comfort it brought. Gabrielle craned her neck up towards the stars, on a mission for the nearest constellation. His own gaze remained on her for a moment, features unconsciously softening at her content before letting his eyes slip shut before opening to follow her gaze.

Gabrielle pointed out a few constellations, though when asked further about them, covered her eyes with her cap with a claim she knew nothing more than their names. Typical. Bede smirked, glancing down at a sudden added weight in his lap. Cider, Gabrielle’s Appletun, took his Hattrem’s usual place in his lap; a given, as it was asleep with most all the others. Cider only peered up at him curiously before nudging its head under his hand. With a breathy laugh, his fingers brushed across the Appletun’s head and returned his gaze skyward, not seeming to mind when Cider began affectionately nibbling at his fingers. The snow had finally ceased falling, now only leaving the breeze and the remaining snow for a chill.

Gabrielle sat up, lifting her right arm to point upwards, “Hey, Bede, look! I actually know about that one! It’s—“ A sudden weight on her shoulder cut her off. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed an ‘o’ inna silent gasp, quieting at the sight of Bede pressed to her side, asleep. It was nice to see him look comfortable, a small smile gracing his features and eyes shut softly, brows relaxed rather than furrowed in their usual frustration. His breaths were soft, hand draped lazily over top the Appletun in his lap, who had dozed off along with him.

Reaching behind her, Gabrielle took one of the heavy blankets he had in his tent, carefully working—with mostly one arm— to drape it over the two of them. She couldn’t bring herself to wake him or risk moving him. With a squeaky yawn of her own, she rested her head against his own and let her eyes slip shut for the night. It was a perfect moment she’d never forget.

Click!

Especially not when she had a photo to remember it by.

—————————-

Her trek back to Hammerlocke didn't take long, not after being shooed off by an embarrassed Bede before she could even help him pack up, claiming that she had gotten them into such a sleeping position and saying she should have woken him up to sleep inside. Gabrielle only chuckled, taking it in stride and collecting her Pokémon. Thanking Bede once more, her arms enveloped him in a farewell, much to his protests before she rushed off again. He had glared softly down at the dirt, pink tinting his cheeks again and his arms crossed. He seemed back go his usual self.

“Gabrielle! Hey, Gabrielle!”

She perked at the sound of the familiar voice, an even more familiar face rushing towards her. Hop smiled brightly, tugging a badge from his bag, “Hey look, I bea-“ he paused, glancing her up and down, “Did you get a new jacket? It looks familiar.”

Oh no.

———————

WHHHHEEEW MY WRITING SUCKS! Check the story on wattpad though! One of my close friends made cover art for it!

[cuntlordsblog]

i only liked the first episode of he dracula series and heres why

this was the vibe i instantly caught. like, i was stoned but ok.

dracula is lonely

johns a masochist

JOHN and mina are a couple in an open relationship and are deeply in love. they always come back to each other, and dine together and away on the deliousness of carnal desire. they were bisexuals.

in minas letter to JOHN she describes as much, wishing him luck on his journey and describing her thoughts on the nermous beautiful woman he may encounter on these journies. going on she also names the handsome men she could sample while he's away, noting the new cute bartender they had been eyeing the other day; how they imagine he'd taste.

Sitting in a carriage, JOHN was here on an unusual work task, he was to travel to a count dracuals castle in a farout snowy mountainous region of the latin country transylvania. as an Englishman and lawyer this trip is a strange one, but nevertheless it paid well and JOHN needed to earn money to pay for their grand wedding mina had planned, it was just 2 months away.

the atmosphere was as cold as the air outside, snow piling in banks along the trodden path. there was a family of 3 headed to the next village over, the gruff stage coach driver, and myself all stuffed into the clamy warmth of the stage coach. frost nipped at our ears from the cracks in the window; everyones combined body heat and hot breath in the confined space. they would steal hurried looks at him, but would look away when he tried to make eye contact.

the counts castle was a 2 hour ride from the nearest town, but not 45 minutes into the ride the coach ground to a halt.

"what's going on???"

"you get out here." the driver grunts as he jumps down, he quickly grabs your luggage and ushers you out of the cab.

"put we're still a ways off! we're nowhere near the castle, I dont even see it!" JOHM EXLAIMs as he HURRIES to keep up with the driver.

"we don't go any further. he will send a driver." he says, his voice hard leaving no room for argument.

sputtering you pick up your luggage from the snow where he placed it. a hand to your head youre in shock! a exasperated laugh puffs from your chest. "how will he know where to find me??"

"he knows where you are." the driver answers cryptically as he good back into the drivers seat. giving you one last forlorn look he sets off at a gallop. you see the eyes of the other passengers stare out the window as the coach quickly disappears around a bend.

it's not long after that you hear branches cracking and the thump of hooves and a jet black coach with 2 black stallions and a driver dressed is all black, his face obscured by a hat and scarve.

"good day!" JOHN. hollers waving his hand and picking up once more the handles on his case.

the coach comes to a skidding stop in front of him, stunned peter stands and stares with his mouth agape, a hand to his hat. the driver regarded him silently, not offering any instruction or aid.

"are you going to help me with my luggae???" no reply "no????well, ok." JOHN hauls himself into the sleek carriage, dragging his luggage with both arms, his suitcase logged betwix his arms. throwing himself into a seat he pants exhausted from the long days travel and burst of exertion he sits back and rests. the cabin lurches as the horses start running. you close your eyes with a sigh.

the coach comes to a sudden halt and your eyes fly open, you fell asleep!

the door to the cab flies open and the driver grabs your luggage and places it outside the carriage. replacing his hat, petter steps out of the carriage and notices hes still a ways off from the doors. the driver hops back onto the drivers seat.

"not going to help me i take it?"

no response

"didn't think so." JOHN fills his arms and begins the treck towards the large castle doors.

finally arriving in front of the door it was evening, petter drops his luggage and takes a momment to catch his breath and right his crooked attire. petter raises his hand to knock on the immense doors but before hand could come into contact with wood the doors had swung open to reveal an empty dimly lit hallway.

nervous, petter looks about slowly, not willing to make a move when suddenly a swarm of bats comes streaming from the doorway surrounding petter, flying in close, their wings carressing his entire body with their wings as they flew by. it felt as if the swarm had hands, he felt molested and revolted. his skin crawling, he cowered hoping the bats would soon leave. peeking over his raised arms he notices a man now standing in the the dim doorway. the bats have all but left, lowering his arms and resuming the posture of a good British gentle man.

the man before him was bizarrely pale, his skin and hair a stark white. he seemed quite old, his handsome features lined with deep wrinkles. he wears a crimson robe and leans on an ornate gold cane.

what an impressive man. petter thinks as he clears his throat and straightens out his jacket, embarrassed to have shown the man who he assumes is his client such an embarrassing scene.

"Greetings! I am, count, Dra-Que-la." he says gesturing wide, he spoke English like he has a mouth full of marbles. "I am pleased that you would journey so far to personally deliver the papers for my new estate in your beautiful country, england!" the count smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "please, come in." the count gestures to deeper into the dim castle.

petters the mention of his work flipped petters switch into work mode, his nerves washing away on the waves of a confident man who is good at his job. with a renewed vigor and purpose petter quickly hefts his luggage and follows the count into the castle. the sooner the man signed the purchase papers the sooner petter could go back to his beautfil mina. he would have to write a response to her letter before leave, responding in equal mirth (thirst), telling her of the handsome count, he was older than petter usually goes for, much older, but petter still found the old count oddly alluring and wabted to share this thought with his lover. brag. wink.

a soft chuckle startles JOHN out of his day dreams, he looks up from his feet (the light is so faint he had to focus on his feet as to not stumble on the stone) a warm glow came from the fireplave at the end of the high ceilinged room. a long table was placed in the center or the room covered with a feast. dropping gis luggage at the sight of a hot meal petter rushes forward and takes in the beautiful sight.

he turns back to the count "may i??????" pointing at the food. the count SMILES and nods.

td;lr

JOHN eats at one side of the table and the count the other. the count smiles placedly as he eats.

later petter thanks him for the meal which had been cleared away, he moves to the case opens it, and places the documents on the rable. he moves a candle closer so everyrging is easy to see, pulling out an ink pot and a quill he smiles, "alright then shall we proceed?" gesturing at the paper work.

the count evades JOHNS yes/no question by begining a monologue about why he's buying this property in England. he recalls the early years of his life when everything tasted so exciting and new, but now, he lives in a dank castle in the cold isolated mountains of the mother country. frankly, hes bored! but as hes spent his life in an isolated castle in a forgeine country, he fears he will have a hard time fitting in... which is why..." he continues as he gets up achingly from his seat and slowly makes his way to john seated at the far end of the table, papers out and pen in hand eyes wide and mouth agape. "...you will be staying with for a month and we shall travel back to england together."

exasperated and surprised john had heard nothing of the sort, he was only supposed to be here a few days! just long enough to get the counts signatures and finalize the purchase of the estate. he tries to refuse but the count grabs his hands and holds them cupped gently as he fluidly sits in the chair next to john. stunned in silence john sits and gapes at the count. his hands cold and dry, covered in deep wrinkles, his long nails evident. the count locks eye contact with John, gazing deep into his eyes "please john, i want to learn how to be a good British gentle man, like yourself." john begins to sputter and tries to jolt his hands away but the count doesnt loosen his grip. " besides," he continuesleabing forward and pulling john in towards him "your employer has already agreed to these terms" he ends witha wink and a smile, releasing Johns hand and sitting back folding his own hands on his chest. "now, tell me about England."

defeated and exhausted john relents, and dazedly answers the counts numerous questions about england, and British social ettiquet. between the counts qiestions John had a few of his own like why didn't his employer explain this to HIM, etc.

the count had brought out some wine at one point and began pouring glasses for John, and in Johns distress over this unexpexted situatiom he has found himself in, partook. and drank, amd drank, until his lips were loose and his comments nigh unfiltered, the good buisness ettique veneer washed away along with the wine.

a bit tipsy now, while answering another one of the counts more unusual questions blah blah blah john reaches to grab his wine glass while rolling his eyes and flapping and knocks it over. the glass shatters on the smooth stone floor.

"oh crumb" he explaims and leans over to pick up the larger shards.

"no dont both--" the count begins, starting to get out of his chair.

"ouch!" John yelps, he cut his finger picking up a piece of broken glass. holding his finger to his face to inspect the wound he pouts and squeezes his wounded finger tip, letting a crimson stream of blood well up and slide down his finger. john sticks his injured bloodied finger in his mouth and realizes the count has disappeared into thin air. surprised john pops his finger out of his mouth and looks around the room. "count?" he spots the count in a dark cornwd, his back facing john leaning heavily on a dresser.

concerned john jumps up and begins to make his way over to the count "count dracula? is something wrong?" no response. john can see the deep, even, slow rise and fall of the counts breathing. leaned against the dresser the was perfectly still but for he rise and fall of his chest. john reaches the count in a few hurrieded strides of his long mantis legs and places a hand on the counts shlulder, and attempts to turn him to get a look at his face "are you alrivht?"

and all of a sudden like the crack of a whip the count was upon him, hand gripping theback of his neck and the hand john had reached out to grab him with unbelievable strength pressing his body to john and pinninf him against the cold stone wall. before john even realizes whats going on the counts lips were upon him, his tounge pushing past Johns lips and devouring his mouth, tasting it.

not all together NOT not into this john gives into the counts attack and kisses back. he had found the old count rather compelling... who is he to refuse a kiss this delicious?? John surrenders to the count, turning to jelly in his grip and sliding his free arm around the counts back.

the count seemed surpised and momentarily taken aback before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip the count deepens their kiss, suxking Johns tongue into his mouth and a moment later sinking his teeth in. needle sharp pain eruptes from Johns tongue sending bolts of electricity through his body settinf gis nerves on fire.

the count didn't let up his bite, lips wrapped around johns Tongue the count began to suck, and suck hard.

Dracula drinks deeply from John, drunk om the pleasure of exotic nlood. and John, lightheaded from the onslaught of sensations and loss of blood simply hangs off of the count. his eyes flutter and close, passing out.

john feels himself slump, and can distantly feel the count detaching himself before he lets himself fall unconious.

waking up john finds himself in a bed, slowly pushing himself up his head swims. confused he looks around the room, heavy drapes cover the windows and numerous candles are lit. the bed he sits in is large and canopyed, the whole room shouted decadence.

"ahem" says the man standing in the doorway. he's handsome and peppered, tall and lean, and looks oddly familiar....

"I'm sorry about last night," the man began, his voice too sounding particularly familiar..."I have a hard time controlling myself..."; all the while john is mesmerized, who is he...I don't know anyone this hot... . he continues, walking towards john, stopping a breath away and grabbing his chin, lifting Johns face towards his own "blood.".

the count dives in and steals his mouth, kissing him deeply. john is surprised momentarily but melts into the counts kiss. chuckling the count pulls away. "your balls of steal never cease to amaze me" the count laughs, turning away and walking a few faces away.

"you're the count dracula, arent you?" John finally starts "but you look so young!".

the count doesnt seem to expect that line of questioning after all that had happened the night before and a laugh escapes his lips. whirling on john he smiles, "thats really what you want to know?"

confused john cocks his head and gives the count an utterly confused doe eyed questioning stare.

at a loss for words the count face palms and turns away briefly, before turning back around and taking a seat on the bed. he reaches over and holds johns hands in his own. he looks soulfully into johns eyes and answers "i drank your blood johnny."

"and my blood made you younger???!" john exclaims, totally missing the point "thats amazing!".

"huh" taken aback the count gives john a rueful smile. "you're taking this quite... calmly.".

"well this is quite amazing! simply from drinking my blood you've become radically younger! i wonder what would happen if you drank more...?" John finishes, squeezing counts hands.

surprised and frankly into it the count smiles and leans towards john, breathing heavily on his lips, hovering just above them before diving for the juncture of his neck which hits shoulder, nice in juicy.

in pure ecstasy john moans and holds on tight to the count, pressing up into his bite.

this time the count only takes but a few mouth fulls before swiping his tongue over the wound, knitting the town flesh together. out of breath and a little light headed john collapses against the pillows as the count wipes his bloodied mouth and licks his hand clean, standing up once more and looming over the bed. panting john blearily looka up at the count to see a blisteringly handsome young man, filled out, dark hair, stunner.

"woah" john breathes, a hand to his previously bleeding neck, fingers running over the fresh scar.

i wanted them to be best boyfriends and teach each other stuff and then go home to mina in england and everyone would get married to each other and also dined together nah mean. anyway i watched episode 3 and that kinda soured it for me

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 3

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6100 Oops, my keyboard slipped

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language

A/N:  TROPES. 

Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

After following the main trail for nearly half a mile it was quickly decided that the most effective course of action would be to get off the path. Neither of you were exactly sure what you were looking for, but you could both agree that whatever it was you weren’t going to find it sitting like a silver platter on a main path. However, actually stepping off of it and wandering aimlessly through the dense forest surrounding you was another matter. There shouldn’t have been a reason to worry, after all you were in the company of Sam Winchester, one of the deadliest hunters alive. If anyone should have been worried it should be whatever you were hunting. Even still the chill that slid up your spine earlier never really faded away.

Realistically that unsettled feeling could have been a number of things. You were nervous. Even though you wanted to find the thing that was snatching bodies, you also really didn’t want to find the thing that was snatching bodies. The classic double-edged sword! If you find it you could stop it and kill it, or it could stop and kill you- always a gamble. And you did not like that shit at all. Dense wilderness also put you on edge, but that was from growing up in West Virginia where there was more forest than not, and from knowing exactly what was out there.

Certain parts of the wild should not be visited. Of that you were sure, beyond shadow of a doubt.

Since you could remember you were told to stay away from specific parts of the forests surrounding the tiny town tucked in the mountains where you grew up in. Everyone knew. No one talked about it, but everyone knew. The Wilderness to the North-West was home to something far older and more dangerous than any gun in that town.

There were rules everyone knew to abide by. And only the very stupid or very foolish chose not to listen.

Don’t go into the woods at night.

Never give out your real name- or anyone’s.

If you feel you’re being watched stay calm and get out without a fuss.

Take nothing from the forest because it will want it back.

When you see the fog, leave.

Don’t listen to the whispers, ignore the strange knockings.

Close the doors and windows, and don’t look outside.

If something is following you don’t ever turn around.

In your youth you were both stupid and foolish.

The rules your father tried to drill into your thick skull never stopped you from playing in the forbidden woods. When you were little you’d run through those trees like it was your own personal playground, it was magical and enchanted and it was all yours. Everywhere you stepped in those woods was warm and inviting, like a little bubble of safety all around you. You talked to the trees, and though they never talked back you felt loved and safe.

Until you got older. Sometimes it was inviting like it was when you were just a kid, other times it was warning you to stay away.

It was September and you were fifteen when it happened- when it turned on you. Walking home from school you cut through the trees. You knew that forest like the back of your hand and the idea of shaving nearly twenty minutes off of your walk was just a little too tempting. It was still warm, and everything was golden with that afternoon hue, just before the sun starts to set, and you weren’t afraid. You were just over half way home when the shift happened. That sudden change in the air that made you stop, body frozen on the spot. The air around you dropping to a temperature so cold you could see the puffs of air coming from your mouth. Everything darkened like the sun had disappeared, but dusk wasn’t for another two hours, and it seemed like the treetops had closed the holes in the canopy trapping you and claustrophobic.

Something felt wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

Heeding the words of your father you forced your legs to move, to carry on your way. Don’t run, don’t panic, don’t be afraid. So you kept your head down, looked straight ahead, and kept going. It wasn’t long before you felt like you weren’t the only one in the woods. And up slithered that cold, creeping hand of fear gripping the back of your neck at the base of your skull, wrapping around your chest like a spider-web making your whole body vibrate in alarm. Your pace sped up as you tried to keep your breath from shaking; as you tried to keep the panic and dread that filled you from your head to your toes at bay.

The thudding of your heart all but stopped when you glanced up and realized you had no idea where you were. It was like you had run straight into a wall of Evergreen or the trees had uprooted themselves and moved just to throw you off. You knew those woods, there was no way you could have gotten lost on a path you had walked more than a thousand times.Yet there you were, standing somewhere that seemed foreign and hostile. Swallowing down the blooming anxiety stuck in your throat you willed yourself to keep moving remembering not to stay still for too long.

Thick rolling fog slid in along the sides of your vision appearing from nowhere and suddenly everywhere. It reached for you with wispy smoke-like tendrils threatening to snag your ankles if you weren’t quick enough. It whispered your name, your name which you had so ignorantly given in your youth. Your heart raced in your chest, blood pumping furiously with adrenaline. Lungs sucked in short, sharp shocks of air as you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability, but you were only holding on by a thread.

When you felt eyes on you it was your undoing. Overcome with dread and fright you took off as fast as your feet could carry you. And the wilderness did not like that. Tearing through the trees they tried to reach out with sharp branches snagging your clothes, and slicing fine lines in your face. But you didn’t slow down, you couldn’t slow down.

It was coming.

It was gaining on you.

The Thing in the Woods.

Your heavy backpack full of school books, binders and papers slowed you down. Without second thought you dropped the dead weight, praying to God or whatever was out there that you made it out alive.

The forest moved, uplifting a root and grabbing your foot taking you to the ground tearing holes in the knees of your jeans, scraping up your hands and splitting your cheek open on a rock beneath you. It didn’t give you pause though, in full flight or fight mode you scrambled to your feet kicking up a flurry of dead leaves as you did. The snapping of branches and footsteps behind you dropped your heart into the pit of your stomach, your nervous system short circuiting as every fiber of your being turned to stone.

Everything fell deathly silent, no rustling of leaves, no wind, no birds or insects. Just the sound of blood pumping in your ears and your ragged breath coming out in wisps of cold mist.

Every limb trembled, quaking with terror as you did what you could to swallow down your panic and turn your head in slow trepidation knowing you had broken nearly every cardinal rule. Dragging your eyes along the forest floor you turned them up and a silent scream caught in your throat.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n-” Sam said waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you from your trance. Like a deer in the headlights your attention was on him, he was looking at you curious and concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” You answered shrugging off your discomfort. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, flustered under the scrutiny of his unsatisfied gaze, you turned your eyes anywhere but his face. Those damn hazel eyes would be the end of you, and you couldn’t stand him staring at you like he genuinely cared for too long. Only after you took a long look around did you realize that you had no idea where you were or for how long you’d been following behind Sam. You blamed it on the woods, they played tricks and you hadn’t been much of a hiker since your youth.

“So I think I saw a house or something just up ahead.” He continued, dropping the fact that you were so very obviously not good. That you hadn’t cracked a joke or made a comment you surely thought was witty for nearly fifteen minutes was clue enough but the spaced out, thousand yard stare plastered on your face sealed the deal. He wasn’t one to push, and you weren’t one to tell, you’d come around when and if you were ready. Even still it was a look he hadn’t seen before.

“Okay, lets go do a B and E.” You agreed with a clap before sweeping your arms to the side in a grand gesture. “After you good Sir.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head walking past you with an eye roll.

“You better be careful rolling them things that hard Sam.” You warned as you followed behind him. He turned his head, confusion creasing his brow. “You’re gonna roll ‘em so far into your head they’ll get stuck like that.”

That pulled a laugh from him, and those dimples you loved so much. You always liked to see him smile, and his laugh seemed to happen so rarely. So when he did it was like looking at the sun, radiant and warm, bringing life to all things.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he saw a house. Although “house” was a rather gracious term for what it was. It looked more like an old hunting cabin that had seen better days, held together by antique nails and the grace of god.

“Wow, this place is a dump.” You said stepping around him and into the small clearing to take in the sight fully, the fact that it was still standing on its own was impressive.

“Really? You don’t want to honeymoon here?” Sam asked as he dropped the strap of his backpack to his hand and knelt to unzip it. You stood with your hands at your hips studying the building that would surely crumble if someone looked at it the wrong way. After a short pause you turned your attention back to him.

“I thought about it, and no. I do not want to honeymoon here. As much fun as tetanus is- I think I’d rather not.” You stated. The corner of his lips pulled up as he grinned at you while extending a handful of silver bullets and a holster. He and Dean might have been content with tucking a loaded gun in the waistband of their jeans- but you were not. You knew how getting shot felt and you were not exactly the most graceful person on the planet either. The combination of the two was a recipe for disaster, and you were not trying to shoot yourself in the ass. It was a nice ass, you had full intention on keeping it that way. Strapping the holster around your thigh and snagging a silver blade from his small arsenal almost instantly made you feel better. Sam geared up and slung the bag over his shoulder again before standing and sweeping hair from his face.

“I don’t know. Clean it up a little, could be nice.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“Yout sure? Hang some curtains over the boarded up windows there,” he said pointing to different areas on the house. “A porch swing there. And one of those little welcome mat’s that says ‘Leave’ at the door.”

Hand over your heart you turned charmed eyes up to him, sighing dreamily. “You’re right, it’s like a dream.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“Oh, yeah Sam, let's build a summer home out of the cabin that’s at the epicenter of every single 80’s horror movie.” You snarked, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Maybe if we’re lucky a portal to hell will open in the basement on nights when the stars align.”

“You know that is exactly how lucky we are.” Sam stated with another laugh, and it cured your depression, acne, and alcoholism all at once.

“Alright, call the realtor. Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.”

From about a hundred feet back the place certainly looked abandoned enough. Boards covered nearly every window, most of which were missing entire panes of glass either broken in or fallen out. And it was in serious need of a new paint job, and probably an exterminator- there was no way termites hadn’t taken up residence. Thinking about bugs slowly eating away the foundation of an entire house might not have been the best way to calm your nerves, but it was a better alternative to what you were most assuredly going to find.

The heavy duty padlock and iron chain around the front door did nothing but confirm your suspicions. It was never as easy an explanation as say- a tool shed! No. It was never a fucking tool shed. It was always a house of horrors. Body parts stuffed into jars. Body parts sans the jars. Always body parts. You should have picked a better- less morbid profession.

“Think you can crack it?” You asked, obviously he could. It was dumb to even ask, but Sam gave pause to ponder anyway. He scanned the area, then back to the lock, weighing options.

“Maybe. You go left, I’ll go right, see if we can find a more subtle way in.” He answered finally. Nodding in agreement you walked along the wall looking for a point of access that wouldn’t be so obvious that someone had gone inside. Because that’s exactly what you needed, pick the lock, go in, monster-person-thing comes back to find the chain missing right off the front door. Good point Sam.

More boarded up windows, and fragile wall you might have been able to put a fist clean through if you were curious enough. And jesus fuck if you were not curious. Putting a hand on the wall you gave a little push, and there was enough give that it only granted credibility to your theory, and a little more excitement than maybe was healthy. But who didn’t want to just full on kick in a fucking wall? Crazy people. That’s who. Though that would have been arguably way less subtle than just cracking open the padlock. The argument being the cabin was falling apart anyway. The human foot sized hole would have been slightly more difficult to explain, so you tucked the urge away in the back of your mind. Begrudgingly.

Carrying on you reached a cellar door, and a set of tiny windows lining the bottom of the cabin, one of them was busted nearly completely open. Yahtzee. With a quick chirping whistle you drew Sam’s attention who rounded the corner of the house to meet you. A casual toss of your head to the side let his eyes trail to the window you were looking at.

“There’s no way I’ll fit in that, I’m way too big.” He commented without missing a beat. You snorted a laugh, biting the inside of your lips into a flat line, closing your eyes and shaking your head. How many times had he said that in his life? When you regained more control of your face and opened your eyes again he was looking at you with that perfected bitch-face, which while oh-so-judgy was still pretty damn hot. You shrugged, proclaiming your innocence.

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

He didn’t have to respond, it was clear as day what you were thinking. He moved to the cellar doors, like a normal thinking person and pulled to no avail.

“Guess it’s locked from the inside there Buckaroo.” You said peering over his shoulder, his eyes cut to you, there was that bitch-face again. With a huff he stood upright, you always liked standing close enough to him to really let his height sink in. Sam always made you feel so tiny and small, and little, like his huge frame could just swallow you whole. Not that you ever spent entirely too much time thinking about how easily he could crush you in his toned, muscular, perfectly sunkissed arms or anything. Or how he could lift you off your feet and over his head like you weighed absolutely nothing. Focus!

The cellar doors wouldn’t open which meant your plan was the most viable one on the table. And if Sam couldn’t fit through that little window it left one option. You were going to have to do it. A shudder of distaste and resentment snaked up your back. You were going to have to crawl through some busted ass window, in some creepy ass basement of a creepy ass cabin in the middle of some creepy ass woods. And god only knew what you might find inside- human jars, jars made from humans, blood paint. Eyeball soup. Buffalo Bill. Who the fuck knew. Suddenly your plan seemed a lot less fun than it did a minute ago.

“Okay, welp. Guess I’m going in.” You said shaking the jitters out of your body through your hands. Sam would never tell you that he enjoyed watching you screw your courage to the sticking place, but it was absolutely entertaining. You were kind of like a kid in a play getting ready to go deliver a monologue at the crux of the plot, who had stage fright and were bouncing up and down offstage with nervous energy. He had to hand it to you, you never backed down, and there was no denying he admired your bravery. In another life you probably would have been a Teacher or Optometrist, or some kind of niche artist. Definitely something softer, much less gritty and gory. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, he had no doubts about you and your iron will. But if the life hadn’t found you and made the decision for you, he simply couldn’t see you as the dirt-under-the-fingernails, willingly-crawling-into-a-dingy-hole-towards-almost-certain-peril kind of gal. The sarcasm and your unabashed weirdness though? That would stay. No matter what life you wound up in, most assuredly, those two staples of you would remain. He wouldn’t have you any other way though, he loved your odd sense of humor, and eccentricities.

Crouching at the window you tilted your head at a near painful angle trying to get a better view of what you were getting yourself in to. Without asking Sam handed you a flashlight, tucking it into your hand unannounced bringing your eyes to scan him over quizzically.

“Where were you hiding that?” You certainly hadn’t seen it earlier.

“Backpack?”

“Boy scout.” You teased, because of course he would have packed for everything, he probably had a compass tucked away in there somewhere too. Sam rolled his eyes, a dimple creasing his cheek as he turned his attention back to the window.

No obvious dead bodies, so that was a plus. After shining the light around you set your mind in stone and handed it back to him so you could shimmy in through the narrow pane. There was a pretty steep drop from the window to the floor in the basement so you laid on your back, squeezing your head and shoulders through first, giving yourself a chance to grab a long wooden beam above you to hold onto for leverage, and so you didn’t drop like a rock to the floor. With a final huff you pulled the rest of your body through the open window, acutely aware of the sharp pieces of jagged glass that jabbed you with every movement. Don’t think about the spider web you just stuck your hand in. Or the other creepy crawlies lurking in the shadows just waiting to scurry over your fingers or up the leg of your jeans. And do not think about the inevitable squishing sound the floor is going to make when you step into a pile of human organs. Once in your dropped your hold and landed on your feet, kicking up a thousand years worth of dust as you did. With a hacking cough and a wave of your hand you brushed the dirt out of your face to little avail.

“Anything interesting?” Sam asked from the window, shining the flashlight directly in your eyes. Scrunching up your face you tried to block it with your hand.

“I don’t know Sam. I’m blind now, so it’s a little hard to tell.”

“Right.” He realized and reached an arm through the window handing off the light to you. Shining it around you were pleasantly surprised to find it more or less empty. Old dusty shelves lined the walls full of boxes, and tools. No mason jars full of eyeballs. Yet. Lighting up the doors to the cellar from your side you were relieved that it was just barricaded by a simple wooden beam.

Setting the light on a shelf, aiming it at the doors you went and freed the plank of wood from its slot. Sam pulled the doors open from the other side, and closed them silently behind him, taking a moment to replace the wooden board, ever careful to cover his tracks.

“Mind the dust.” You said, grabbing the flashlight from its perch. “Hey, Sam.” The second you gained his attention you flashed the beam of light in his face. “See anything?”

“Ha, ha. I get it.” He snarked snatching the torch from you hand as you stifled a giggle.

Following his lead you continued to search the basement, turning up bupkis. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a bunch of old shit that no one had probably used since the Inn was built. Save for the nice little stash of Moonshine tucked under one of the shelves.

“Yeehaw.” You said popping open the lid to the mason jar and taking a whiff, quickly turning into a sputtered cough as your eyes and throat immediately started to burn. “Good god, you could strip paint with this.”

“Yeah? Go ahead and try it, tell me what gasoline tastes like.” Sam replied with a chuckle.

“I’m not gonna drink it. You drink it.”

“No way.”

“I’ll give you five bucks if you drink it.” You insisted, there was that perfect bitch-face again.

“You’d don’t have five bucks.”

“Wow, rude. You don’t have to rub it in.” You said with a pout, screwing the lid back on the jar and tucking it back into it’s spot. Once the basement was clear you headed upstairs which was unsettling. Nothing but ratty old furnishings, more than apparent that a family had in fact lived there, but just up and left one day. Antique dolls on an old rickety shelf, children’s toys on the floor, deer heads mounted on the walls. There were still untouched plates sitting on the side table, and a book left open for place keeping. Easily the most alarming thing was the back corner which had a mess of iron chains and cuffs, and a few giant meat hooks hanging.

“Still wanna turn this place into a summer home?” He asked, the light glinting off the iron chains.

“Just remember my safeword.” You quipped, biting back a gag from the rancid smell coming from what you could only assume was at one point a kitchen. A large black mass situated in the center of the floor where the odor was coming from caught your attention, forming a pit in your stomach, and you grabbed Sam by the wrist directing the light to where you needed it.

A voice from outside distracted you from making out the shape in the floor, someone was outside. Sam cut out the light, which helped neither of you to figure out where to go from there. Hand on the grip of your gun at your thigh you waited for the inevitable stand-off as the chain on the outside of the front door rattled, lock falling away. Sam’s large hands covered your mouth and snaked around your waist as he pulled you backwards and into the crawl-space beneath the staircase. With a free hand you hooked your fingers around the frame of the slatted closet door and pulled it closed silently.

The storage area he pulled you into had to be the world’s tiniest storage space, if it were just you in there it might have been fine. But with Sam’s huge form crowding what little space was available it was awkward to say the least. The sharp incline of the stairs had his broad shoulders pressed against the flat of the ceiling, and the rest of him hunched over you practically bending you in half backwards. One hand pressed against the wall above your head, and legs at a crooked and unstable angle below you you were banking on him to keep you upright. With his arm tucked firmly at your back and his other arm outstretched to keep himself steady, hand flat against the wall behind your head it was all he could do to fit into the space with you. You were flexible enough, generally speaking, but you were not a contortionist and the Cirque du Soleil act he just crammed you into was… less than comfortable.

The front door opened and you could no longer lament about your tight quarters.

“No, I heard you.” Came a man’s voice, you tugged a finger on the slats of the door trying your damndest to sneak a peek through them, which was near impossible with Sam’s forearm against your jaw. Not that you minded so much, he was warm, and he smelled so nice it was distracting, like coffee, and vanilla, and cinnamon. He held you flush against him in a hard line down the length of his chest and abdomen, tucked between his solid thighs. Made you all tingly in the nether region, but there was no time for you to focus on his firm he was. Or the feel of his breath hot against your neck forming goosebumps on your skin. Or how the long strands of his hair tickled your cheek, and how you’d always wanted to know how soft it would feel knotted in your fingers. Or how hard your heart was pounding in your chest a little too excited to be so close to him.

“I said I heard you. It’ll be taken care of.” The Man said again, irritated. It was so dark in the cabin you couldn’t make out a thing, and you were trusting your instincts to tell you relatively where he was based on where his voice was coming from. “You just worry about your damn self, and let me do my fucking job. Or you can deal with it, but something tells me you don’t like getting your hands dirty...Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Then there was silence, followed by a series of footsteps, heavy boots, going from the spot in the center of the room towards the kitchen. The sounds of rustling plastic, and a slow choppy drag of something weighty across the floor.

Your arm above your head was starting to cramp, and the way he had you bent backwards was already painful. Bracing yourself against the wall you twisted your body until your back was flush against his chest, careful to remain as silent as you could. Sam shifted to try to give you some room but, the poor man had nowhere to go. Under different circumstances he would not have minded your ass pressing against him in all the right places. But this was neither the time nor the place to get caught up in the scent of your shampoo, or the soft curves of your body moving against the hard lines of his. You shifted again, just trying to get a better view of what little there was to be seen through the slats in the door, but the friction of your movements was impossible to ignore. One large hand splayed out flat, low on your stomach between your hip bones keeping you still enough for him to keep his mind focused on anything other than the growing tension pooling in his core.

The feel of his hand sitting dangerously low over your jeans made heat bloom in your cheeks and elsewhere and at the moment you were grateful for the pitch black. The front door creaked open and the rustling plastic stopped long enough for it to shut again and be replaced by the sound of jingling chains and a padlock being reattached. Waiting until you were in the clear enough to make an exit from the tiny crawl-space was seemed to take forever, but at the same time it wasn’t like you were in much of a huge rush to move. After all you were a little more than content to stay exactly where you were. Sam let out a sigh, his forehead dropping to rest against the back of your neck, his warm breath sending a tingle down your spine.

“See anything?” His tone low and smooth, as if he was unbothered by the cramped quarters.

“Nothing.” There was no hiding your disappointment. The conversation you’d overheard was certainly of interest however. Pushing the door open you slipped out of the crawl-space. The drag of his long fingers over the bare skin peeking between the rise of your jeans and hem of your t-shirt sending sparks of electricity directly to your center. Sam stepped out behind you, having to adjust himself in his jeans, he could think more about the feel of holding you that close later, and he would be.

The flashlight clicked on and both of you moved directly to the kitchen which yielded- nothing.

Swatting your hands against your thighs in frustration you let out an irritated groan. The sink was backed up with blackwater, and the floor was mushy from water damage sourced from a hole in the ceiling. But there were no body parts. The lack thereof was starting to bother you, which was not a feeling you’d thought to anticipate. No one wanted to find human remains, but more than anything you just wanted to find some fucking human remains! Gank the bad guy, stop the killings, go home, take a hot bath and boom. You would be on your way to Netflix and sleep. But no! Of course it wasn’t that simple.

Upstairs was equally unfruitful. Although an unmade and dingy bed, along with some foul smelling clothes was more proof than needed that someone was living there still. Your money was on the guy you’d just heard downstairs.

The only problem left was how to get back out of the house without letting it be known they had been there. Someone would have to put the wooden board back in the cellar door-you. But you also weren’t quite tall enough to climb back through the window in the basement. There was, however, a wide open window in the bedroom, and Sam beat you to it.

“Ever thought about jumping out a window?”

“You read my mind.” You answered unenthusiastically. He pressed his forearm against the frame gauging just how far down the drop would be, deciding it was plenty safe. But you did not agree. “You’re kidding right?”

“It’s not that far.” He justified, but you were not having it. A twenty foot drop might not have seemed like much for him, but that extra foot he had on you made a hell of a difference. Not to mention the fact that he was a large wall of solid muscle, while you were small, soft and had squishy insides.

“Okay, sure- for you maybe, Gigantor. I jump down there I’m looking at a broken leg, or worse.”

“You’re not going to break your leg.” Sam reassured you, but the flat and unamused expression on your face was not something he’d be able to cut through that easily. A large hand slid along your jawline, warm and comforting. “I’ll catch you.”

You could have melted into a puddle on the spot. It really wouldn’t have taken anything more than a slight breeze to make your knees crumple beneath you. The genuine sweetness in his eyes made you forget how to breathe. Trying to get a handle on yourself, unless you drowned in those kaleidoscope eyes you scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I promise.” He said, gaze intense and confident. Beyond shadow of a doubt you trusted him, you were sure you were also going to regret it, but you were about to find out.

“Okay.” You agreed, a little baffled that you were just going to jump out a window and trust him to break your fall. He turned to go out first, but you grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to you, all nerves again. “Sam. You drop me and I swear once I’m out of the hospital you’re in for a world of hurt.”

Sam flashed you a dimpled smile and dropped out the window, landing on his feet, making it look easy. Of course, he always made it look easy. He was graceful and agile, like a cat. You on the other hand- not so much. You sucked in a breath and leaned out the window waiting for him to ready himself. It wasn’t the first window you’d jumped out of, not by a long shot. But any other time you were escaping with zero hesitation about what was on the other side, no time to think about it. Quick thinking jump, or die, so there was little room to question the best alternative. But you kind of just wanted to try to boost yourself through the window in the basement right about then.

“This is so stupid.” You hushed, rocking on your heels. He turned up to you, arms outstretched. Sucking in a breath you hoped you aimed right, and stepped out the window, slamming your eyes shut and bracing yourself for impact.

Impact came but it wasn’t you busting your ass on solid ground. Sam made good on his word and caught you, but you had a little thing called momentum and just kept going, practically tackling him to the floor below. He hit the dirt on his back, his arms wrapped firm around you. Eyes wide you sat up immediately, waiting for the inevitable ‘Oh god, I think you broke my rib!’ to come but he just laid out for a moment, and brought two thumbs up, head tipped back to catch the breath you surely knocked out of him.

“Hey, this was your idea.” You defended. He nodded with an exasperated grin, hands falling to rest high on your thighs where you straddled his waist. It didn’t take but a split second for you to relish the position you’d found yourself in, and took only another split second more for the wave of embarrassment to flood, as you scrambled to your feet. Not that you wouldn’t have minded staying perched on his hips a little longer, or much longer. But it was Sam, and you already shouldn’t have been thinking about him like that, and you were also a professional with a job to do, which meant you didn’t have time to wrap your brain in fantasies. No matter how mouth-wateringly tantalizing they were.

He took your outstretched hand to help him to his feet, and dusted off the foliage he picked up. When you turned away to look at your surroundings he took a moment to adjust himself once again. That was twice now he’d had you exactly where he’d wanted you, at exactly the wrong times.

Heavy fog began to roll in through the trees, and with it that sickening cold chill rolled up your spine, and you found yourself edging just a little closer to him.

“It’ll be dark soon. We should get back to the Inn.” You suggested, but it was more of a warning. The woods were telling you to get out, and you weren’t one to ignore the signs anymore.

Tags:

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@mogaruke

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@alexwinchester23

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[virgilantejustice]

Some memories won't fade

OK, well, as promised, here's the first of my fics based on this post.

T/W: Past character death, crying, shouting

Word count: ~1200

masterpost link

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Patton arrived home from work.

Logan had tried to give him some time off, you know, to do whatever he needed to do, but he had politely declined, choosing to just, you know, keep on goin'.

He wished he had stayed even longer now though in that souless little building.

The house was so empty. Light still poured through the windows, it was spring, so the sun hadn't set yet. But it was so empty.

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

But Patton could hear Roman's singing in the emptiness, so rich and warm, and he could picture himself clapping along to one of his performances.

He could see him, sitting at the piano, his hands gliding over the keys, tapping out a melody so sweet it rivalled the treats that Patton would make for his birthdays as he grew and grew into the man he had become.

Through the silence he heard music. He heard the beautiful music that Roman brought every single time he would come around. He saw him taking a bow and pretending to catch the roses that Patton would pretend to throw.

Always happy to be the test audience for any of Roman's shows, always getting a preview, always seeing Roman when he was right in his element.

'Always' always ends.

Patton closed the door to the music room. He didn't want to see that piano anymore. He didn't want to see that remote that still lay where Roman had put it down after his last performance where he used it as his microphone as he sung. He didn't want to see.

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Opening the door to the kitchen, Patton was shocked by the smell of nothing, adding its emptyness to the abyss that had swallowed up their home.

His eyes trembled as he scanned the room, contemplating eating. But there was nothing to eat. He hadn't cooked anything. He should really get on that. At some point.

At some point when he wouldn't see Roman dancing around in his socks, humming along to the tune that he had playing, mixing some concoction in the biggest mixing bowl, blatantly ignoring the recipe.

Patton turned away from the kitchen and walked over to the sliding doors that opened to the garden, opening one and looking out, letting the breeze blow through his hair.

He didn't want to see the kitchen anymore. He didn't want to see the wooden spoons that Roman and Virgil would use as swords when they were younger, fighting and laughing around him while he was making dinner. He didn't want to see that oven that was usually overflowing with sweet treats that he made either with or for them whenever they came around (which was often). He didn't want to see the handwritten recipe books that Roman had made himself, the only ones he would ever use. He didn't want to see.

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

Patton looked out across the garden. It was spring. The flowers were in bloom, the petals slowly fluttering through the air to the ground like ghosts of the full flowers that once weighed down the branches.

He could see Roman down at the end of the lawn, swinging gently back and forth on the swing-seat, waving his arms around to narrate some story or another. He could never just tell a story with words alone. But they were all the more immersive for his dramatics.

He saw Roman glance in his direction and snap out of his tale for a moment, beckoning him over, smiling warmer and brighter than the sun that beat the ground, and beat Patton down to it each and every day he was gone.

Choking back a sobbing breath, Patton shrunk back inside, hugging himself tightly, Roman fading from his view as he slammed the sliding door. He screwed his eyes tight shut, but he could still see the green of the lawn and the plants and the trees throwing dappled shade onto the outdoor chairs and tables where they used to sit and talk and laugh and be together.

Patton went back inside and sat on the couch. He didnt want to see the garden anymore. He didn't want to see the flowers that they used to so lovingly tend together. He didn't want to see those colours that Roman could so delecatly weave into a crown. He didn't want to see.

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The door opened. Only one person (now) opened the door without knocking.

"Hey kiddo!" Patton cried, a smile plastered on his face as his son came through the door.

No. Get that tremour out of your voice. Dont let him know. Dont show him that you're, that you're, you're.... Just be strong, for him.

"How you doing?"

By way of an answer, Virgil wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked up at him with wide, blotchy, red eyes.

Patton rushed over and wrapped his arms around him, the lines of concern that were drawn on his face when he saw his son smoothing out to be a placid, empty deadpan once his head was hooked safely over his shoulder, only to return to pity and compassion once he pulled away.

Gently, Patton led him over to the couch where they sat for a while in silence. The silence that was all too familiar to them both.

"I know that this is hard," Patton said softly, in a voice as light as he could manage, putting his arms around his son. "I know that you miss him. I understand. I do too. But we can get through this together." He pulled away and smiled gently. "He's still here, and he would want us to move on. We can mov-"

"Will you stop it!" Virgil cried, shuffling away from him.

Patton reeled back, taking his hands off of Virgil's still slightly shaking shoulders. "Stop what?"

Virgil stared at him, his mouth open and his lips trembling, with suppressed tears or suppressed rage Patton couldn't tell. "Who do you think you're helping?!"

"I thought i was helping you?" Patton whispered, forcing the choking tears out of his throat.

"But you're not helping yourself!" Virgil yelled, standing up and throwing his arms in the air. Patton's breath hitched as the action brought back memories of-

"Roman is dead!"

The words hung on the air as Virgil stared at him, his mouth clenched shut, his eyes squinting and trembling. "He's dead, dad!" Tears began to fall once more down his face. "You can avoid saying it, you can talk about him like he's still here, but that doesn't change the fact that he's dead! He's gone. He's-" Virgil slumped back next to Patton, his head in his hands, his back shaking.

"Honey. My dearest kiddo," Patton said, tears filling his own eyes. "He /is/ still here." He swallowed and wiped his eyes. "I know its hard, i know," he said between gasps, "but he's still here," his voice trembled, "inside you," he placed a hand over Virgil's chest, feeling the way that it was shaking with breaths as uneven and labourous as his own, "and in me," Virgil looked up at him, but Patton couldn't quite meet his gaze. "And in this place."

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[wonderlustlucas]

eggs - lee taeyong

⇢ prompt Breakfast does not go to the stomach, it goes to the heart. ⇢ pairing taeyong x female reader ⇢ word count 3.1k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings none unless fluff gives u whiplash :D ⇢ summary “Taeyong fluff. basically like they aren’t a couple yet but they know they both like each other so they’re all cutesy and shit :) plot doesn’t really matter tbh as long as it’s some cute ass fluff”—request ⇢ a/n take this fluffy shit and shove it up ur ass for optimum benefit

“Noona, will you please make us breakfast?” You are one hundred percent going to kill him.

“Ten, call me that again and the only thing I will cook is your arms and legs. I just bought cereal and milk, so leave me alone,” you groan like a branch under the weight of snow, rolling away from the brightness of the sun filtering through the window and swinging a leg out from beneath the covers to dangle off the bed. “No, you finished the cereal Thursday and never told me to pick up more, plus there’s no milk left,” Ten retorts, voice muffled behind the white door and at the sound of his—your—friends laughing, you feel like screaming. “Then go out and buy some more!”

“___, there’s like fifty eggs in the fridge, plus it’s past twelve and loverboy is starving, don’t you want to cook for T—“

“Okay, shut up!” You shout, accepting defeat rather than embarrassment and whipping the blankets away with an annoyed sigh. Picking a crumpled tee shirt from the floor, you pull it over your head with a certain irritation and make way for the door, swinging it open and glaring coldly at the grinning boy despite the heat growing on your cheeks like sunburn. “I hope you rot in Hell,” you hiss, jabbing a finger into his chest and stomping past him.

In a weak attempt to move past your guests as quietly as possible, you direct your attention to the floor and scurry through the living room quiet as a mouse, embarrassingly aware of loverboy’s—as Ten called him—presence. “Morning, ___.”

Caught. “Good morning,” you sigh, finally averting your gaze to look at the trio and offering a feeble wave. Maybe if you just pretend that he isn’t here, you can survive the day. However, as soon as your eyes land on Lee Taeyong and all his glory, hot rosiness is already burning its way up your neck quicker than before and settling on the apples of your cheeks. Curse you, you want to say, mouth sour and stare fixated on the brunette for a heartbeat too long until he smiles and you embarrassingly hurry on to the kitchen.

If it’s not for the incessant growling of your stomach, you truly contemplate opening the refrigerator door just to slam it back on your head; however, even though you would never admit it, cooking breakfast for Taeyong remains to be your first and foremost priority on this lovely afternoon. And so, no matter how much you don’t want to, you smack a cast-iron pan loudly on the stove and twist on the gas, pausing to count with your fingers how many eggs you’ll need before eventually just grabbing the whole carton.

You see, developing a crush on one of Ten’s friends was never part of the plan. To be entirely honest, you had laid in bed the night Ten first moved in, tucked delightfully in your duvets wondering how in the name of God you were going to survive just a week without falling for him. However, as time went on, Ten’s fiery attitude and the fact that it seemed as if his friend Johnny was the one who in fact moved in based on the amount of time he spent in your shared apartment made it quite painless to get over the brief obsession in your newest flatmate.

And while Ten does have a mentality spicier than sriracha, you could not find it in yourself to complain when he brought not one but three friends over two months into moving in. By that time, you were fairly close to Johnny, considering he was knocking on the door almost every day (at this point, you had already settled on the idea that the two were one hundred and fifty percent dating, although you would never ask), but had zero ideas that Ten even had other friends, let alone met them.

And to be quite frank, you did not expect another two attractive men to enter your life. Jung Jaehyun, quite possibly the most angelic human you have ever met and Lee Taeyong, the greatest threat to your existence.

Perhaps you would not have fallen so quickly if it was not for the fact Ten was adamant on having the three over every fucking day. The first time you met was a terrifying case of embarrassment; you had been sleeping in when you woke to quite possibly the loudest noise to ever enter your eardrums. And so, with speed faster than light, you fled from bed with nothing but measly undergarments to see what sort of Satanic ritual Ten was pulling, only to find two strangers grimacing at an enormous box now flat on the floor.

It was painfully awkward, from the moment they noticed your ghastly presence in the doorway, to the realization they just dropped the new television Ten just bought, and finally to the fact you were practically naked in front of them. Without even a glance to their faces and with a noise akin to a frightened mouse caught in a trap you spun back behind the door, slammed it closed, and dove back into bed, shivering under the covers and planning your plan of survival that included never leaving the one hundred and twenty-seven square feet of your bedroom.

However, five hours later your stomach had a mind of its own.

6:07 PM - To Ten: i will literally do absolutely anything u want ever in ur life if u bring me cereal

6:07 PM - From Ten: No shot

6:07 PM - To Ten: oh my god ten please

6:08 PM - From Ten: I think my friends need an apology for seeing ur titties this morning🤧

6:08 PM - To Ten: please dont do this to me im so hungry i will literally do anything

6:08 PM - From Ten: Bj?

6:08 PM - To Ten: yes an infinite everyday

6:08 PM - From Ten: hmmmm

6:09 PM - From Ten: nah

6:09 PM - From Ten: come get food urself

With an infuriated, muffled scream into the downy pillow, you hurl your phone to the mattress before leaning up and mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of teasing from your sinister flatmate. Sighing obnoxiously as you exit your bedroom for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, absolutely nothing in the entire fucking universe could have prepared you enough for the unquestionably perfectly crafted specimen of Lee Taeyong.

Upon first glance, you barely noticed his figure hidden in the corner of the room, simply a monochrome silhouette concealed in the darkness. It was not until the hues flashing from the television lit up the dark space with brightly colored shades from a commercial did he come into view, seated on the farthest side of the sofa. He was like a single brilliant star on a sky of perfect midnight velvet, a star whose gravity stole the air from your lungs and left you breathless in the doorway upon first glance.

He was by far the most alluring human you have ever seen.

“Hey ___!” Ten suddenly shouted, cutting your train—or lack thereof—of thought into shreds and replacing it with your previous hatred. “Die,” was all you said, earning a chuckle from someone, although you could not seem to care to find out who and instead continued for the kitchen.

“How’s your day been?” He continued, yelling from the other room and you contemplated whacking the side of his head with a cast-iron pan. “Don’t talk to me,” you shouted back while rummaging through the refrigerator, only to pull out a container of half empty white rice left over two days prior and a gallon of Breyers Extra Creamy Vanilla from the freezer.

“Are you grumpy because of what happened this morning?” He singsongs, followed by just leave her alone from an unknown voice as you grab two spoons and slam the drawer close. He was truly pushing your buttons. Ice cream, rice, and spoons in hand you made way for the living room, paused midway, and mercilessly pegged one of the metal spoons at Ten.

It unexpectedly hit him square in the forehead, creating a chorus of oohs from the others and you beamed. “Don’t forget who owns this apartment, Chittaphon,” you sneered, gracing his friends with a beaming smile before spinning on your heels and marching back into your bedroom.

Needless to say, Ten found it in himself to never tread that deep into your patience again and even apologized the next morning. However, the image stuck in your brain of whoever sat in the corner of the living room could not go without questioning.

“Hey, who was over last night, by the way?” You asked as Ten took a seat on the couch beside you, flicking between different television channels. “Taeyong and Jaehyun.”

“Which one had the pink hair?”

Ten huffed, throwing in the towel when it came to choosing an adequate channel, “Taeyong, why?”

You shrugged, “Nothing.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not dumb, c’mon. You think he’s cute?” More than cute.

“I only saw him for like, a millisecond,” you sniffed, waving him off and returning to your assignment. “Good news. They’re coming over again tonight!”

You groaned, throwing your head back onto the plush cushion and kneading your eyes with your knuckles. “I didn’t pick up enough groceries to feed a whole soccer team,” you sighed, lolling your head over to blink at him. “We have eggs?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Tae will help you.”

And only after a proper introduction when Johnny, Jaehyun, and Taeyong arrived an hour later, you found yourself in the talons of a trap designed to drag you down into the depths of drool-worthy dreams and endless nights of “being in your bag.”

When it came time to cook a meal for the new clan you found ravaging your apartment, it took no less than half a minute for the cotton candy haired art-major (something you found out about him during some unacceptably adorable small talk) to jump up from his spot on the loveseat to aid you in any way possible.

“You like cooking?” He asked as you passed him another egg to be whisked, and you laughed heartily. “No, I just have to so I don’t blow all my money on takeout,” you explained, shrugged, and then followed with, “well, I don’t know. If I had time to cook out of enjoyment rather than survival, I would probably like it.”

“You should, it can be really relaxing,” he said, voice luxurious velvet as he poured the whisked eggs into the hot pan. “I don’t really know any recipes,” you shrugged, watching with quiet admiration as he went through what minimal spices you had while simultaneously folding the eggs into what would eventually be an omelet.

“Oh! I’ll have to show some you one day, then,” Taeyong grinned, and no matter how hard you tried you could not fight the rosy blush warming your features.

It was at this moment you realized you were royally fucked. There was absolutely no way of getting out of this one, you told yourself, and it was a constant reminder nearly every day when him, Johnny, and Jaehyun made their entrance. It was especially obvious on days he came over after class, the top few buttons of his shirt undone and revealing an inch too much skin that made your insides crawl, or the alone time you shared when he would help you in the kitchen, when one day over the course of three months you realized it had gone from two strangers forced to feed a group of helpless college kids to a pair naturally creating meals together, including a handful too many hip bumps, tickles, and any other type of physical touching to be categorized as just friends.

“No way,” you blew Ten off one morning when he asked if you thought you would ever date Taeyong, “he doesn’t like me like that.”

When all he did was roll his eyes, some part of you truly did drop with disappointment. For if he had said, “You should hear how he talks about you,” or, “You really are a dumb bitch,” then maybe you would have had some hope. But his lack of response confirmed your thoughts: Taeyong was an unattainable love.

Four months later, you and your now crimson haired friend dragged an absolutely wasted beyond repair Ten into his bedroom, flung him onto his mattress, removed his shoes, and patted him a good night.

“Sorry you had to deal with him,” you frowned, making way for the tiny kitchen and offering him a water in which he graciously took. Lord knows, if you had known he was coming, you would have been more prepared. And yet there you were, in nothing but an oversized tee shirt in front of the man who held all the stars in his irises and the very being of you in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taeyong smiled, clicked his tongue after taking a sip of water, “either way, I got to see my gi—you.”

Realizing his miniscule slip-up, Taeyong’s eyes grew the size of saucers, as did yours. My girl? Was that what he was going to say? You gulped, windpipe suddenly dryer than any desert on Earth, heart bumping frantically in your chest because holy shit, were you to blow it off or act on it?

Taeyong cleared his throat, and you did the same, an awkward tension suddenly filling the room thick like syrup and you were suffocating. “Anyway, I’m gonna head home. G’night, ___,” said Taeyong, offering a weak pat to your cheek. You watched him in silence as he left, and as soon as the door shut behind him the world came crashing down, the walls suddenly seemed to shrink and you hopped off the barstool in order to save yourself and sped to your bedroom in a rush of excitement and undeniable shock.

Only two days later you saw him again, a mini celebration in your apartment for the end of the semester with a bit too much soju involved. You found yourself curled into his side as the antics settled down further into the night, however alcohol still had your nerves on fire and you were hyperaware of Taeyong’s hand on what was exposed of your waist where your shirt had ridden up, long fingers drawing random patterns onto the bare skin and you could not breathe.

“___,” he said, you turned from the loud Raymour & Flanigan commercial blaring from the television to look at him, eyes wide and honest and his heart lurched. He suddenly could not find it in himself anymore to ask if he could stay the night and instead languidly studied your pretty features, face hovering closely above your own so you could feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks and he did not know what to do.

“Taeyong!”

Ten shouted and the two of you jerked back, the serene moment suddenly popped like a bubble and you wanted to scream at him for ruining the possibilities.

The exchange between Taeyong and Ten turned to nothing but marbles in your ears, the idea of kissing him much too loud and growing from a small mustard seed hidden within your brain to an enormous tree. Except now it was in bold font and flashing every color known to man because there was no way he was actually going to kiss you, right?

Fast forward nearly a month later and here you were, found in yet another treacherous predicament as the man of your dreams sat only feet away. The past twenty-seven days were the worst of your life, you tell yourself; for every time you close your eyes, all you can picture is all the diminutive moments shared with Taeyong since your almost-kiss, every insignificant touch, every drawn-out ogling, every unnecessary compliment that only increasing became worse because Ten told him that you liked him. And instead of bringing it up, too fearful to do so even though you are convinced he must like you back, you push it away, avoiding any possible interaction that will lead to your potential collapse.

And so, when a, “Hey, do you want any help?” erupts from just around the wall, you nearly drop an egg when every muscle in your body freezes because yes he’s here but no get away. “Um,” you sniff, glancing down at the dozen eggs and then back to the boy sporting hair the shade of oozy caramel, “sure.”

You go on in silence, continuously passing Taeyong an egg to be cracked and then throwing out the shells, and you are telling yourself oh, this isn’t too bad until he decides to break the relative silence, “I like you.” You blink, squint at the wall before moving around him to wash yoke from your hands, hearing the words from those damn kissable lips makes your legs burn and heart thump at a rate that definitely is not healthy. “I know,” you finally answer, voice clogged in the back of your throat so you continue, “I like you too.”

“I know,” says Taeyong once you look up at him and he bestows upon you a toothy grin.

“I’m glad that’s settled, then,” you laugh breathlessly, leaning into his side as he scrambles the eggs, cheek pressed against his bicep, “you’re bulking up, I like it.” Taeyong drops his head to look down and you glance up with a smile that cannot seem to leave your face. “Jaehyun said the same thing,” he grins, pulling his arm away so that you must pull away but, just as your lips start to pout, he pulls your body close and wraps his arms around your waist.

In a sudden surge of courage, you raise your hand to trail a finger down the razor-sharp edge of his jawline, something you have dreamed of doing for months and now that you are finally able to, you do not know whether you will ever be able to stop. “Wow,” you almost say, breathlessly infatuated by his presence, however, the sudden pressure of his lips upon yours steals your breath furthermore and suddenly everything is all him and you pull yourself closer, air hitching in your lungs, nerves fizzing with sparks, melding your mouth against his own as the anticipation of kissing him over the past months has reached its boiling point.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” Taeyong asks once you have pulled away, lips swollen red. “That’s the general plan, yes,” you laugh softly, planting a milder peck on the side of his mouth.

.

.

.

“Does anyone smell burning eggs?”

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

chapter 11.5 -- okay, 12, it’s chapter 12, fine, fine. I should stop trying to predict how long my chapters will be. I’m always wrong. the Fae AU keeps escaping all my predictions. it’s fine. it’s cool. 

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

It is not, as Apollo expects, the worst road trip he has ever been a part of. Trucy likes to sing along to the radio – she has a surprisingly good voice – which stops Clay from starting up his usual road trip tradition of bellowing out “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” and seeing how much he can get through before someone slaps him. Trucy claimed shotgun, as “the woman with the magic map”, meaning Apollo is shunted to the back with Ema, who upends her bag on the floor to pull from it a jumbo-sized pack of Snackoos and offer a handful to him.

“None for us?” Clay asks, pouting in the rearview mirror.

“Backseat privileges,” Ema replies.

Trucy cranks the radio up as a familiar guitar riff begins.

If it’s extortion, it works; she and Clay have not finished the first verse, Trucy’s almost-operatic interpretation running up against Clay’s off-key warbling, before Ema is shoving the Snackoos up between their seats, offering a trade of chocolates for an end to the car-vibrating force of Guilty Love.

“Not a fan?” Clay asks.

Ema groans. So does Trucy. “Don’t get me started,” Ema says.

“Yeah, please don’t,” Trucy adds.

“He’s a pretentious fuckin’ diva who—”

Trucy begins yelling out the chorus to the song over the second verse emitting from the radio.

They are all still arguing – Ema berating Clay’s taste in music while Trucy moves into an attempt to sing My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness to the tune of Guilty Love and Apollo tries to turn the volatile atmosphere anywhere else – when the song ends. Trucy shushes everyone, violently, smacking Clay on the arm and then flailing back at Ema, and turns up the radio. A DJ is in the middle of saying something.

“—announced today on their social media. While fans are disappointed, no one can say that the break-up comes as a surprise, after the sentencing of guitarist Daryan Crescend for murder in July, and the three months of, ahem, radio silence that’s followed. And earlier this week, leader singer Klavier Gavin’s brother was indicted on a second count of murder – I can’t say I blame him for maybe wanting to duck out of the spotlight. Gavin’s brother was previously charged in April, for—”

Trucy changes the channel. A commercial for a local furniture outlet doesn’t help break the awkward spell fallen over them. “Yeah,” she says, after a full minute, during which time they discover their new channel is a country music channel. “No real surprise.”

“Brother and bandmate,” Clay says quietly. “Hell of a year.”

“Hell of a six months,” Apollo says. And he was there for all of it – he was there for more of it than Klavier ever was. Klavier wasn’t there in April, not when Kristoph fell, not when any of them could have had any idea what was ahead. How much magic would surround them.

“If my older sister had been convicted of murder, I was gonna crawl into the dirt and die,” Ema says, “so I’m with the fop on that one, actually.”

There is a worrying lack of hypotheticals in the second half of Ema’s scenario. No “would have”s. Like she was where Klavier is, but the trial had a different outcome, and the frozen expression on her face, her eyes gone blank, she looks like she has caught up with her own words. Said too much. Apollo doesn’t know much about her as a person, her life before failing the forensics exam, how it was that she knew Mr Wright, but he can sympathize with that fear of having given away too much, turned the conversation down a path that should stay blocked off.

“You have a sister?” Trucy asks, turning around in her seat. “You seemed kinda ‘only-child’ to me.’ “Yeah,” Ema says quietly. “Older sister. Her name’s Lana. We don’t… talk much.”

Apollo doesn’t know why the name feels like it strikes something in his brain, the way Ema’s did when she first introduced herself.

“Oh.” Trucy visibly wilts. “Sorry.”

Ema shrugs, slumping back against her seat, her arms folded. “It happens,” she says. Her eyes are glazed over, settled in Clay’s direction. Her mouth quirks in the beginnings of a smile. “She took me to the Space Museum once, not long after it first opened.” The wistful smile has grown a little larger. “Back when I didn’t know what kind of scientist I wanted to be, so I wanted to go everywhere, and she was like ‘Ema I’m not taking you to the fucking tar pits again, how about space?’, and—” She shakes her head. “Sorry. Your jacket got me thinking. Do you work there or something?”

And that is the question that Clay most likes to be asked, that or literally anything else ever about space, and that is the end of any of them getting a word in edgewise – but while Apollo’s heard it all before, Trucy has questions galore, and Ema sits forward, slowly losing the pretense of not being enraptured.

-

They have driven for over two hours by the time Trucy directs them to pull of the highway at an exit that tells them there is nothing for them that way but another 38 miles until Kurain Village. “Is that where the Fair Folk live?” Ema asks dryly, in her voice none of the nervousness that people tend to have. Apollo hasn’t spoken much with her about magic, doesn’t know what she thinks – but, well, she knows Phoenix. That’s clue enough that caution comes secondary.

“Not really,” Trucy says. “They just named it that. It’s part of our world. Sometimes some of the fae do show up and hang around, I think – Maya tried to convince Daddy to move out here, once, apparently, but he wouldn’t leave the office.”

“Who’s Maya?” Apollo asks. Sometimes he realizes how little he knows about Phoenix’s personal life, too.

“Daddy’s friend. She’s – wait, stop! Here! Turn down this road here!”

“This is not a road,” Clay says, hunching over the steering wheel. “This is some dirt, off the road, not even in the shape of a dirt road.”

The car groans as Clay turns it off of the asphalt into the dirt. Trucy pops open the door and stands, holding herself between the door and the car roof and turning her face to the sky and the no-longer-distant mountains looming above them. She says something, muffled, and points into the trees. “We’re close,” she says, ducking back inside the car. “Let’s park and go – we’re close.”

“Park right here?” Clay asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Barely anyone comes this way,” Trucy says. “Like, one bus, except I’m not even sure if this is on its route. It’s fine.”

“I’m more worried that this is some sort of sacred ground that we’re stomping on,” Clay says, but he turns the key and then smacks his head against the top of the wheel. “How much are we going to regret just walking out there?”

“Probably we won’t,” Trucy says. She flings the door open and jumps out, stretching her arms up into the air. “C’mon already!”

“So what are we doing now?” Ema asks, crumpling the Snackoos bag back into her bag and tumbling forth from the car like a liquid spilled. “Just walking into the woods until we find treasure or a bear?”

“We do have a map.” Trucy waves it at her. “But yes. That’s what we’re doing.” She lowers the page halfway to her side and then stops, tilting her head back. “I’ve been here before,” she says. “Grandpappy and I – sometime – sometime after my mom died.” She takes a few slow steps toward the treeline, her movements uneven, as in a daze. “It was just the two of us. And we came here, and we buried—” She spins around, eyes wide, looking at all and none of them. “We buried his grimoire.”

Without another word of warning, she dashes into the woods, sending them scrambling to catch up to her. It’s colder here than in the city, though Apollo didn’t think they went up too far in elevation. Leaves thickly coat the ground; do they hide rings of flowers beneath them or do those in their magic break through? They finally reach Trucy when she, focused on her map, walks straight into a tree and takes some time to properly reorient herself.

“Do you know why here, of all places?” Apollo asks. “Is it because of the mountains, and he was…?”

He stops. Does Trucy know what her grandfather was? Phoenix didn’t say. Of course he didn’t.

“He said this is where he landed,” Trucy replies, crunching a leaf beneath her foot. “He said he fell, and this is where he landed.”

“Was he—” Clay’s sense, that question that they all know they shouldn’t ask, that question that Apollo has asked again and again anyway, wars against curiosity, against more than wanting to know – needing to know, to understand what is Trucy’s family. “Was he, erm, one of – Them?”

He can’t even bring himself to offer up one of the epithets. This close to the mountains, Apollo isn’t sure that he could bring himself to speak of them plainly like he has learned to.

“Yeah,” Trucy says. “But I’m human. Don’t worry.” She flashes a grin, one of her usual grins, but it is tempered by the speed with which is vanishes from her face again, replaced by a frown of concentration. “I think we must be close, but not quite yet.”

“Hey, Trucy?” Ema asks. She pushes a branch out of the way and it snaps back to nearly strike Clay in the face. “Not to pry, but – if your grandfather was one of the Fair Folk, are you the changeling, or was it your mother?”

Trucy stops.

“Wait,” Ema says. “Not a changeling – that’s the fae child. The human kid, the one swapped out. Is there a word for that?”

“I don’t think so,” Trucy says. She hops over a log. “I don’t think there’s a name for people like that.”

She doesn’t answer the first question. Maybe she doesn’t know, either.

“When you say you buried it,” Apollo says, aware that there is nothing subtle about this lifeline he is throwing to pull her away from questions best left avoided (am I a child stolen away, raised by the fae? Did they take me from the life I should have had?), “have we come all this way to be foiled for want of a shovel?”

“Oh fuck,” Trucy says.

“Hey!” Ema barks, her sharp rebuke the manifestation of that urge Apollo feels to scold her for that. “Language, young missy!” She folds her arms across her chest, her glare a fond one. “Where did you learn that?”

“My daddy’s a card shark,” Trucy says, countering Ema with a smug grin of her own.

“I thought he was a piano player,” Clay says.

“Only because you’ve never heard him play,” Trucy replies. “Easy mistake to make.”

“Considering it was all magic that hid the map,” Ema says, with nary a pause to acclimate everyone to the idea of throwing the conversation back past that latest sharp turn, “wouldn’t it be magic to hide it again, logically speaking?”

“Where’s the logic here?” Clay asks. Ema snaps a twig off a bush and flicks it at him. “And I mean, if it’s just covered up with some illusion, couldn’t anyone stumble into it?”

“Maybe it takes the map, too,” Apollo says. “Or maybe only a Gramarye can unveil it.”

He steps up onto a tree stump, like the extra five inches can grant him some kind of special insight or a better view in the forest of brown. Then he is falling, the wood rot giving way beneath his foot, a sharp jolt running up his leg from the twist of his foot. “Shit!”

Trucy winces. “Ouch. Poor Polly. I—”

“Apollo,” Ema says, very seriously, but somewhat muffled by her hand over her mouth. “Move. Move right now.”

“What?” He sits up, dislodging his foot from the stump, and looks about himself. The forest floor of dead leaves has cleared, as though by a strong, concentrated wind, revealing browned dead grass encased by a perfect circle of blue flowers. “Oh. Oh shit.”

Without an ounce of grace, still on his hands and knees, he scrambles and rolls his way out of the faery ring. “So according to the map,” Trucy says, and above his head Apollo hears the flutter of the paper, “I think we found it.”

“Only a Gramarye, huh,” Clay says dryly.

“That was only supposition!”

“So who’s gonna stick their hand in a rotten tree stump?” Ema asks, producing a flashlight from her bag and shining the beam down into it. “I volunteer Trucy, because she’s wearing gloves, and is our Gramarye.”

Trucy kicks up the leaves on her approach, searching for hints of another ring around the stump, more than just Apollo’s that sits adjacent to it. “If I get bit by a squirrel and get rabies and die, it’s your fault,” she says, kneeling down next to the stump and brushing her hair back to peer down into it.

“Statistically, your chance of getting rabies from a squirrel is negligible,” Ema says. “That shouldn’t be your worry.”

“What should I worry about, then?” Trucy asks. “Can you bring the light a little closer?”

“Bats, racoons, foxes, feral cats and dogs, and right now, probably non-rabies Fair Folk curses, since we’re fucking around by a ring.”

“I’m still concerned about bears,” Clay says.

“I’m not,” Ema says. “I’ve already got my plan, which is to trip you into its path.”

“General ‘you’, or me, specifically?”

“You specifically. Nothing personal, though. I just know Trucy and Apollo better than you.”

“This is way heavier than I thought,” Trucy says, falling off-balance and dropping something dark and rectangular. “Oof! Okay. Okay. We got it!” She lifts it up onto her knees, a thick book with a black cover and a character emblazoned in flowing purple script on it. “I knew I remembered this.” Her voice is quieter as she opens the book and flips through the rough-edged pages. “Grandpappy’s grimoire.” She closes the cover again, reverently, and keeps it balanced on her legs as she turns back to the stump. “Light again, please. I thought I saw something else.” Trucy has her head nearly in the hole, which can’t help her with her light situation, and she sits back and plunges her hand in again. “Yep! This is a – a funny-looking magatama?”

She holds it up, the blue stone sparkling in the flashlight beam, but also seemingly with its own interior glow, and Apollo gasps.

Three sets of eyes turn to him.

“That’s a mitamah,” he says, and to his own ears he sounds like he’s choking, but he feels like he’s choking too, and maybe the others don’t notice but he doubts it. “That’s someone’s soul.”

Trucy drops it into the leaves.

“What?” Clay looks suspicious – Trucy looks horrified. “How do you know?”

(“There’s no reason to give away your soul,” Dhurke told them, sternly, the sternest he ever got. “Never.” And then they tried to argue, to come up with reasons, because of course they did, and he hugged them both close. “You’ll make great lawyers someday, always looking for reasons and other ways, but this one – promise me. Nahyuta. Apollo.” He prodded each of them in the chest. “Don’t let someone else get their hands on your soul.”)

“The tail of it is different.” Apollo picks it up, brushing off the dirt and leaf particles that cling to it, and points to the longer, squiggling protrusion that extends from the loop. It doesn’t fully connect like a magatama, either, more like a hook than a circle.

It feels warm in his hand, humming through his fingers and up into his ears. It reminds him of the office – familiar, but disturbing, because there is no reason that it should feel so familiar and comforting.

“Could it be your grandfather’s?” Ema asks.

“Wouldn’t that mean he’s still alive?” Clay asks. “Is that possible?”

“It couldn’t be,” Apollo says. If he stares at the mitamah he thinks he can see flecks of gold within the blue, like stars on a constellation chart. “The Fair Folk don’t have souls like we do. They can’t sell them or manifest them like this.”

“Is that why they want human souls?” Ema asks.

“How do you know?” Clay repeats.

Apollo’s heart has stoppered up his throat.

“It makes them stronger,” Trucy says softly. “When they buy names, or souls, it makes their magic stronger. But this – this can’t be that.” She hugs the grimoire up to her chest. “It can’t just be that.”

“Should we just… put it back?” Ema asks. “Someone’s probably looking for it, right?”

“It’s been seven years and no one has come before us,” Apollo says. The humming isn’t as steady now, seems more like a song, and familiar, damned familiar. “No, we can’t just leave her here.”

In the silence, even the song seems to stop. “What?” Apollo asks. Their three sets of eyes are on him again, even more piercing, Trucy’s wide and Clay’s narrowed and Ema’s narrowing too.

“‘Her’?” Ema repeats. “Why ‘her’?”

“I…” Apollo swallows his heart. “I don’t know, but I… I know?”

“I don’t think you should be holding that in your bare hands,” Clay says.

But the alternative seems to be dropping her in the dirt again, and Apollo’s fingers curl tighter around the stone. He can’t do that, either. Trucy unties her scarf from around her neck and silently passes it to him, letting him wrap the stone up in the red fabric and then cradle it close again. The song thrumming in his ears ceases. “I guess we should take it to Mr Wright and ask him if he knows what to do,” Ema says. “He’ll know what to do with it. Her?”

Trucy’s gaze is unfocused, her head slowly drifting away from the horizon back toward the stump. “Trucy?” Apollo asks. “Are you okay?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she says. “Just buy up someone’s soul all for himself. He wouldn’t. There had to be some other reason. It wasn’t just power, there had to be a good reason.”

(“There’s no reason,” Dhurke said. “Never.”)

“He gave me magic, as a gift,” Trucy says. “He was a good man.” She looks up at Apollo, blinking her blue eyes furiously. “Wasn’t he?”

-

It takes them another forty-five minutes to stumble out of the woods and find Clay’s car again. Ema makes everyone nervous talking about the odds of them stumbling across a body decomposing in the undergrowth – “I have zero desire to ever get caught up in one of your murder investigations,” Clay says, picking up a branch from the bushes and brandishing it like a baseball bat – and bears. The two of them are at least doing a good job of filling the silence left by Trucy, uncomfortably quiet, walking in a trace. Apollo tugs her by the arm out of the way of trees. He could put the mitamah in his pocket but hasn’t, has kept it held close to his chest.

The story that Phoenix spun of the Gramaryes is gnawing at him. A woman, on the bad end of a deal with Magnifi – Apollo doesn’t want to think about the possibility.

(Trucy must be thinking about the possibility, mustn’t she?)

She crawls into the back seat of the car, depositing the grimoire in the middle, and Ema makes a mad dash for the front seat, leaving Apollo to sit on the other side of the grimoire, separated by it from Trucy. The only time she speaks is to call Phoenix and ask him if he is at the office – he is, because she directs Clay to go back to the office.

It is a long, quiet ride home, some subdued conversation between Ema and Clay about their fields of science rising over the country music still on the radio. Trucy taps Apollo’s hand and beckons him to hand her the mitamah. She takes off one of her gloves and weighs it in her hand with an ever-deepening frown until she wraps it back up and passes it back to Apollo.

Ema shouts “Yellow car!” and hits Clay on the shoulder. He hits her back and tells her that she needs to specify no punch-backs next time.

-

Phoenix is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch with two notebooks and a stack of papers spread out in front of him, the coffee table shoved to the side, a pencil in his mouth and another tucked behind his ear, when they stagger into the office. Apollo is mediating an argument about the merits of Eldoon’s for a late lunch – Ema does not want to brave it, while Clay wants nothing more than to do so. Phoenix does not look up.

“Hey, Daddy,” Trucy says wearily.

His head snaps up, dislodging the pencil behind his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“You always complain about your back hurting, and now look what you’re doing.” Trucy’s words sound forced through a smile. Phoenix’s frown deepens. He watches Trucy walk past him to deposit the grimoire on his desk.

“We went looking into the envelope you gave her the other day,” Apollo says. “The real last page.”

Phoenix doesn’t look back from Trucy right away. “A full expedition team, huh?” he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks over Ema and Clay. “Who’s this?”

“Er, oh, yeah. I’m Clay Terran. Apollo’s roommate.” Clay points with his thumb at Apollo, even though they all know there is only one Apollo that they know. “You’re Mr Wright, yeah?” He doesn’t do a good job of feigning enthusiasm.

“I know that look,” Phoenix says, standing with a wince and an audible crack of some of his joints. “That’s the ‘I’ve heard about you and it’s nothing good’ look.” He lets Clay splutter for a full two seconds before he grins crookedly and adds, “That’s fair.” Almost immediately, his expression flattens out to something stern and almost entirely foreign. “Trucy,” he calls. “What’s wrong?”

“We found my grandfather’s grimoire,” she says, sitting on the desk and holding it up, only for it to slip from her hands and crash to the floor. “And Polly has the other thing that was with it.”

Apollo unwraps the mitamah.

Has he ever seen Phoenix surprised? The man spent seven years an unbeaten poker player, and this past half-year absolutely inscrutable to Apollo’s eyes. There is nothing controlled in his reaction; his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, turning blue immediately and staying blue, horror apparent in how they linger on the mitamah. “Oh,” he breathes. “That is – yeah.”

He reaches forward with trembling hands and scoops up the scarf spread across Apollo’s hands. He holds it cradled close, too, his free hand cupped beneath the one holding it, prepared to catch the stone should it slip, but still not having touched it with bare skin. “So,” he says. “The ‘source’ of Magnifi’s magic – that grimoire, and this soul.”

“But,” Trucy says, “that…” She stops. She chews on the inside of her cheek. Mr Hat, the wisp, is visible, bobbing frenetically around her shoulders. “It’s…” Her shoulders slump. “Do you know what to do with that, Daddy? Is there a way to know what person a soul belongs to?”

“Not from looking only at the mitamah,” Phoenix answers. His eyes still hollow blue when he turns them back to Trucy. “I am not particularly familiar with mitamahs, honestly, but I’ll look into it and see what I can do to get it back to her.” He takes the stone in one hand and offers Trucy her scarf back. “If the fae who has possession of a soul is still alive, they can just give it back – not that many are willing to, mind – but since he’s dead – well.” He shakes his head. “Thank you, though. For helping Trucy, and bringing this back.”

It’s a firm end to the conversation, not that Apollo knows what more to ask about a soul. Ema, though, is frowning, her arms crossed, her mouth twisting like she is puzzling out something. “We were gonna go get noodles at Eldoon’s,” Apollo says. “If – if you wanted to come, Trucy.”

“Oh!” She looks surprised, like she hadn’t expected to be addressed. “Um.” Her heels bounce against the desk. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

Her hands, curled around the edge of the desk, shine red. Apollo doesn’t even need that to know she’s lying.

-

“We all agree she’s not okay, right?” Clay asks.

They were silent for a block down from the office, Ema not even complaining about losing the Eldoon’s battle. (Apollo was prepared to tell her that she didn’t have to come, but she had attached herself to them without a cursory protest.)

“Definitely not,” Ema says. “I guess she doesn’t want to believe that her grandfather was the double-dealing type of Folk – which, I’ve read the case file on his death, I’d believe that about him in a hot second. There’s nothing worse than a blackmailer like that. Also.” She plants herself firmly in the sidewalk. Apollo and Clay both bump into her. “None of us referred to the mitamah as ‘she’ or ‘her’, right? Like you were, Apollo.”

“None of us but Trucy even talked about it,” Apollo says. Clay nods. “Why?”

“Because Mr Wright did.” Ema’s forehead creases. “He said he would ‘get it back to her’. He wasn’t even touching it, was he?” Apollo shrugs. Ema shrugs too. “He knows something. More than he said.”

“He always does,” Apollo says.

They reach Eldoon’s, and Ema says that it’s weird to see the stand without a corpse attached. The look that Clay gives her makes her and Apollo both laugh. Once they have their noodles, they walk another few blocks to People Park and find a bench not far from where the noodle-stand crime scene once stood. Apollo has learned to be grateful for the mouthfuls of broth that taste of so much salt to sting. It feels a little more like safety, like salt across a doorway.

He starts to say what he’s thinking, that Trucy might be worried that the mitamah is her mother’s, or at least he is, but the words die on his tongue, shriveled by the salt. He doesn’t feel right to tell Clay and Ema about Trucy’s mother’s death, when he has no idea if Trucy knows or not. Phoenix has made him the guardian of family secrets that aren’t his and something about that feels wrong. Maybe necessary in some way, to understand the case, to understand what happened with Kristoph, but still wrong.

Instead, he helps Ema explain to Clay her earlier comments about Magnifi and blackmail. You can’t refuse, and we both know the reason why – Trucy can’t know he did that. She seemed to idolize him. What a hard way to fall.

He’ll text her tomorrow, Apollo decides. Check in, see how she’s doing.

(There’s probably someone else he should check in with, too, the events of this week all considered.)

[suga-trash0903-blog]

Sehun Fanfiction

Genre: angst  → fluff

for @flxwercafe ~ hey ^^ here’s your Sehun request~~ idk if its good though, i rushed a bit @.@ I hope you liked it~

if any of you want a fic, drop me a message kays~ i dont bite :3

[Word Count: 2006 words]

"Sorry babe, I'm not coming home today. I've got a schedule just in from our manager-nim... And we all gotta stay behind for extra practice."

Once you heard this from your idol boyfriend, Sehun. You couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. This was the fourth time you’ve heard this, in a week. He hadn’t been home with you, for 4 days. You missed him but you know you couldn’t do anything about it. You chose him. And he was an idol, you had to expect that he didn’t come home sometimes due to his schedule.

“Hunnie, again? I mean yeah you have work, I understand but…” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when he cut you off with a “Sorry baby, I’ve got to go. Our dance instructor is here. I’ll call you when we’re done with our practice. I love you sweetie, I’ll see you soon” and the call ends. Just like that. He hung up on you. You felt so hurt by this. You knew it was a very trivial matter. He was an idol after all. You couldn’t complain. But the bitter feeling inside you was unbearable and you ran upstairs. Up to your room, where you could cry, sob into the pillows. It smelt so much of him, you cried even harder. You screamed into the pillow and continued sobbing silently. It wasn’t even his fault, right? Why do you feel so mad? Oh right, it’s your 3-month anniversary. You were so excited for this day, you even went to the extent of making a memory box of the past 3 months you had spent with him. And you, honestly, were a very lazy person. The memory box took a good 3 days. But you thought it was going to be worth it, when he comes home today and you gifted it to him with a kiss to his cheek. All that just came crashing down with that call earlier.

Yes, the time you both spent together was very little, what with his packed schedules, concert schedules, interviews and all the other miscellaneous photoshoots and whatnot. But the two of you cherished every moment together and made the most of it. But the love you had for him, and his for you, held the two of you together.

You drifted off into a slumber and there you stayed for a few hours, curled up into a ball with the blankets held in your fists and tear-stained face against the pillow that smelt of Sehun. Everything around you ceased to exist as you slept your worries away and your mind became a blank canvas of white.

A car stops at your front door and someone steps out the car. Downstairs, the door silently unlocks and creaks open. A tall male slips in, clad in a black tuxedo and dress shoes. Sehun. He’s got his training bag on one hand, a bouquet of red roses and white lilies and a paper bag in his other. A matte black Ferrari waits outside for him, with a friend of his at the wheel. He leaves his bag in a corner and places the bouquet and paper bag on the countertop.

Sehun finds it weird that the house was quiet. The television wasn’t on, no sign of you anywhere and the lights were still on, so you couldn’t have gone out. He takes of his shoes and silently pads up the stairs in his socks and checks every room upstairs. He finds you curled up, dried tears crusting on your cheeks and sprawled out on the bed, with your head on a pillow, stomach down.

The sight of you like this tugs on his heartstrings and he didn’t want to wake you but he’s got the entire evening all planned out, with the help of the other members in his group. And he didn’t want any of it to go to waste, especially with his queen. That’s you. He softly brushes his fingertips across your cheeks and whispers a sweet “baby, I’m home~” you give a soft groan and mumble “go away.”

Sehun then raises an eyebrow at you and starts to get of the bed “well, if you insist”, to which you respond with a tiny “nooooo~ come back come back, you’re really really warm”. You weren’t really awake to know who you’re actually hugging, it might have been a serial killer for all you knew. But its Sehun, warm arms and smelling deliciously good.

“Sweetie, you’ve got to get up. I’ve got today all planned out. Come on, sleepyhead.” Sehun runs his hands over your back, sending shivers up your spine. You slowly opened one eye to peek up at the drop dead gorgeous man staring right back at you.

“SEHUNNIE!!” you screech at him and launch into his chest, squeezing the life out of him. “You said you weren’t coming home, and I spent the day crying, you asshole.” You half-heartedly hit his chest and whined into the crook of his neck.

After a while, Sehun pulls you so that you’re looking right into his pretty eyes, “Are you done whining yet, princess? I’ve planned our evening together and our chauffeur’s waiting at the door so I suggest you change into something nice, though you look nice in anything and I’ll meet you downstairs hm? Don’t wanna waste my efforts, do we?” he then plants a chaste kiss to your forehead and leaves, not before giving you a wink as he closes the door to let you change.

You continue sitting on the bed with a dreamy look on your face before realising that Sehun was waiting for you downstairs and scrambled off the bed towards your closet and picked out a black sleeveless dress and a leather jacket. You grabbed a simple black clutch and put on some makeup and did a once over in your mirror before heading out of your room and down the stairs. Sehun was leaning against the bar stools at the counter and scrolling through his twitter, occasionally giggling at his fans’ tweets. he notices your presence and pulls you into a warm embrace, snapping a photo of you two, with his arm around your waist, in the glass reflection of the windows and posts it on twitter. His fans, amazingly, support your relationship, some even creating fanarts of the two of you together. Its amazing how so many of Sehun’s fans were so supportive of this relationship when Sehun’s released to the media that he was dating you a few months back.

“Ready to go, my queen? Oh, and this is for you.” He passes you the bouquet as well as that paper bag. “But you can’t open it till the end of the evening okay?” You nod and slip your arm through his as the two of you leave the house, locking the door behind you. Sehun opens the back door of the awaiting car and cutely gestures “After you, my precious~” After he plops down on the soft leather seat , sitting close to you and shuts the door. He says, “Let’s go, Kai.” You eyes widen at that casting a look at the man, also dressed in a well-tailored navy blue suit and wave awkwardly at him through the back view mirror and he throws a smirk at you, whispering “How’s our little Hunnie treating you, hm baby girl?” Sehun tenses up a little at Kai’s pet name for you, but you squeezed his hand reassuringly. You were pretty much used to Kai and his flirting and t didn’t have as much of an effect on you as it had when you first met him when Sehun brought you to see the other members for the first time. You laugh, eyes crinkling at the ends, “well, I don’t know. How about you be the judge of whether he’s treating me well. He left me home alone for 4 days and lied to me about having practice when he’s actually coming over to surprise me. He even hung up on me.” You ranted playfully to Kai while he tuts at Sehun and eyes him through the mirror, “You’re such a terrible person Sehun-ah. Better take care of her before she gives up on you and comes to me, hmm?” Sehun reaches over to hit Kai on the shoulder.

This playful banter between the three of you continues till you reach your destination. A high-end restaurant in the middle of Seoul. “Enjoy your evening Sehun, Y/N.” Sehun nods as the two fo you bid goodbye to him and watch him drive the car away. The two of you walk into the restaurant with Sehun’s arm around your waist as the waiter leads the both of you to a more private table, towards the back of the restaurant.

The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the menu for ages, waiting eons for the food, reminiscing about how the two of you first met and finally, eating, when the food arrived. After the meal, the two of you stand and Sehun pays for the meal, tipping the waiter and giving your compliments to the chef for the exquisite food and the two of you head back out into the November air.

“where are we headed now?” you ask, leaning onto his shoulder as you two stroll around the park, which was a few minutes’ walk from the restaurant. Sehun winks at you gestures that it’s a surprise but you have to blindfolded for it.

You raise your eyebrow at him and give him a sceptical look. The last time he blindfolded you was back in April and he pushed you into a stream in the park. You got a cold the next day. “I won’t do it again okay, baby. Trust me~ I’ll put this on and I’ll lead you to our final destination of the evening okay? I swear on my precious Vivi.” You decided that you could trust him. But you still glanced around the park, making sure that there were no streams, lakes or rivers close by. Just in case.

“If you do it again, I’ll hate you forever.” You huffed at him and let him blindfold you with a silk cloth over your eyes and made sure that you couldn’t see before he held your hands in his warm ones and led you through a series of turns and finally to a stop. He slips the blind off and you blink quickly, adjusting to the bright light surrounding you. You were standing under a beautiful tree, decorated with flickering fairy lights and little cards tied to a few branches. And the path leading up to the tree was lined with lighted candles. You felt your eyes brimming up with tears which threatened to escape and Sehun told you to go and collect all the different coloured cards according to the pastel colours of the rainbow. You more or less knew where this was leading and you tiptoes to reach the branches and with much difficulty, you managed to collect all of them. Sehun tilts his head to the side and waits for you to get the message that you were supposed to open the cards and read it out. “Oh right.” You fumbled with the ribbons tyng up the cards and read the red card, “Will…?” you slotted the red one between two branches and opened the orange one, “you” “let me” “have the honours” “of marrying you” “and” “be your king?”

The tears escaped as you dropped the rest of the cards and hopped onto his welcoming arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he peppers your face with kisses. “Yes, Sehun. I do. I do.” You ugly sob on his shoulder and he brings out an elegant ring box, “Thank god I remembered the paper bag.” He slips the ring onto your ring finger. this was a moment you were unlikely to forget in a long while. Being with the man you love, nothing else mattered anymore.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Permafrost . A fantasy AU

A On The Prowl... spin off for @geld-sama

Nsfw

Warnings. brief. Non con. Vanilla, Impregnation.

Where was he? It was late out and the incubator keeps asking for him. Was he killing the kittens? Shoto had no idea if Shinso was even capable of such a thing. The leopard grew impatient , flicking his tail around the grass.

Atleast Bakugo was quiet for once , probably because he had to deliver the kittens but oh well. What would happen if the kittens were his? They would all stay together right?

Chizome had offered the incubator food but she declined it , how can you deny food? Werent you hungry? Were you just going to sit and wait for Shinso and not do anything else?

Shoto was bored, and needy . He wanted his turn too. He wanted kittens too. Shinso returned finally, stopping near Shoto to show him the kittens. His eyes grew wide when he saw them . Alive and purple. He had no chance to say anything though. Shinso had went to you dropping the kittens on your lap.

He watched from his look out spot. Your smile, your tears. You were so happy the kittens were alive . When could he experience that too? Soon? Never? Waiting was becoming more and more difficult.

When Shinso told the pack his plan Shoto was taken aback by it. Split up? Why? Because of Aizawa? So? Why? Bakugo is in charge? Nothing will get done. All the incubators will die. He made a fist, fire creeping up his fist to his arm for a second then quickly dissapearing. Bakugo left first , Chizome followed soon after.

“Id rather not have us split up.” He finally said once they were alone, besides you.

“Its for the best, Todoroki”

Was it? Was it really? We all had been together for a very long time and he was just going to throw it away? Just like that? How could you? ..I want a family too. But i wont find it here i guess, ill look elsewhere.

“You were a good Alpha.”

Even if it was for a short time, it was better than Aizawa. Shoto gave Shinso one final nod before taking his leave and joining the others.

•••••

They wandered, not knowing where to go exactly. Chizome was the only one with a good nose and he had to lead them around. It was a little anoying, all Bakugo did was complain that he was hungry and horny.

Chizome enjoyed the walk obviously, he was a wolf. And Shoto was starting to think he was leading them no where just to extend the walk. He did have time to think though.

He thought about kittens for the most part. Shoto was covered head to paw in pure white fur . Unlike the other three who had more human bare chests and arms. He was covered. Would his kittens be like that too? It kinda made him insecure since he was the only one like that. If he had kittens he would not be alone but.. for some reason the incubators feared him the most, sure they feared Bakugo but not as much as they feared him. It hurt him, he would always go feral over it, nearly hurting them. Loosing his cool in such a way hung over his head, he felt more animal than .. human? Was he human?

•••

“Hey Icy hot!! “ Roared the angry lion .

Shoto shook his head seeing Bakugo and Chizome in front of him and what looked like a giant sign with a forest behind it, he could smell a river too, and a camp fire.

“Dog breath led us to a campsite. Lets rest here”

“It looks nice dont you think?” Chizome said , his tail wagging .

Shoto lifted his nose again sniffing the air his eyes widened then got smaller again. Chizome smelled it right? He had too. Bakugo might not, his nose is the weakest out of all of us.

Shoto looked to Chizome and the wolf pawed his snout winking. Incubators, if he could just get a glimpse without Bakugo knowing... “Its very nice. Lets rest here” Shoto said, his tail wagging slightly.

The three set up camp in a isolated area next to the river. The sign had indeed said Camp Site. Confirming where they were, they were no longer near the jungle, this was a new place.

•••

Shoto went off on his own while Bakugo was asleep, Chizome was out looking for food. Shoto followed the smell of the camp fire , he needed to know, to see. He wanted to touch them. Were they soft? Were they different than the villagers in the jungle?

He pulled some branches aside looking forward and a chunk of ice fell out of his paw. Incubators, three of them. All talking , having a grand ole time by the fire. One was laughing rather loudly, it irked him, the second one was drinking something that burned his nose when he sniffed the air. The last one though, you were snuggled under a blanket by the fire just watching the flames dance, you looked very content with your life.

Something in Shoto connected, he needed to have you. Make you his.

You saw him first, he was not exactky hiding, he was half behind a tree and just staring. You rubbed your eyes only to still see him. What is that? You got up with the blanket still around you , you told your friends you would be right back and they waved you off .

Its coming over, its getting closer, its so cute . What? Cute? Wait. What do i do? Think Shoto. Thi-

“Excuse me..?” You said shyly, you had the blanket on your head.

Shoto had fire spark ok his arm for a second , you stepped back and he held his massive paw out to you. You clutched the blanket around your neck gazing at his pure white fur.

“Beastmen..? Your.. your real?”

“Y-yes. Im .. real”

“Ive.. only read books on you. Your..”

Im what. A monster? Just say it..

“Your so beautiful.”

He shot you a look and you stepped closer , touching his paw with your hands. You were so warm, so soft.. your skin was like freshly washed fur on a sunny day. Smooth and gentle.

Shoto held his other paw out to touch your cheek, soft.. delecate. He needed to have you. Shoto was about to say something but a roar caught everyones attention. You cowered and Shoto wrapped his arms around you looking all over till he saw Bakugo running towards the other girls . He looked like a feral mess , tongue hanging out, claws out, drooling. Chizome was with him and he stopped running to look at Shoto.

Bakugo cant have you, he will kill you. Shoto gave Chizome a nod and the wolf waved with his ears down. Shoto scooped you up in his arms taking you away from the scene. You peered over his shoulder to see your friends on all fours naked and being bred by a lion beastmen and a wolf beastmen. You dug your face into Shotos shoulder trying not to hear their screams for help.

••••

Oh fuck, dammit, why, stupid lion. Where am i going? I dont know this area. They smell so nice. Where am i? Is it safe here now? Im still running but i dont know where im going. Its all forest still.

You gently tapped his furry chest making him stop , he heaved dropping to his knees holding you. His breath was hot on your face and smelled like coals. He squeezed you tight and you tried talking to calm him down.

“I know .. from stories what you are. What you were born to do. But i never expected you to be real.” You pulled the blanket off and laying it ok the ground spread out.

He looked at you when you left his arms. Where were you going? I dont know if its safe here.

“Can i know .. your name..”

“Shoto.. Todoroki...”

“Im Y/N.. uhm i..Shoto. Will you breed me?”

He nearly fell forward into your arms. His tail was flicking wildly, scattering nearby rocks and sticks. He gave you a look of hope. Wide eyes and an open mouth, smiling slightly.

“I.. your giving up your life..”

“Shoto.. this is the life ive been waiting for.” You pulled off your pjs and panties, you rolled over getting on all fours looking back shyly. “I uhm.. please. Ive been so interested in Beastment ever since i started reading about them. “

Was this really happening? A incubator offering themself? Its never happened before . She was not scared , she.. she wanted kittens.

“You want this..?” He asked moving closer, standing up on his knees, his cock hitting your plump folds. It was enough to make him cum right there.

“Yes. Yes Shoto.. ive always fantasized .. about this. About kittens.”

He gently grabbed your hips , inching his own forward , watching the head slip inside you, your folds stretched and you dug your nails into your hair trying to adjust to his size. You screamed once but thats it. He stretched you farther then what you were use too. But once he was in you warmed right up, it felt like you had just stepped into a over heated room. Your core was shaking for him, and his thrusting did not help either. You came instantly , it was unlike any orgasm you had felt before, your thighs shook and you were seeing stars around your head.

You were so sensitive that your pussy was twitching around his cock, sucking him in deeper and deeper. Shoto had started out messy but he corrected himself and pumped into you in long steady strokes. Should .. should he mark you too?

Shoto leaned down over your back , you looked back at him, face red and wet cheeks. He asked you and you agreed as fast as you could. Shoto moved back a bit till he was at your shoulder. He growled in his chest and bit into your shoulder sinking his fangs in. You came again and Shoto did too this time. His paws wrapped around you and a satisfied grunt muffled under your shoulder .

His pace slowed to a complete stop but he did not pull out. Instead he let go of your shoulder , he looked at the mark for a minute , not messy and easy to see . Good. Carefully he laid down with you in front of him, his cock still buried inside you, securing his seed.

“Sho..to..”

“Y-yes..”

You looked back and he licked your wet face till it was clean of tears , you reached back holding his face close to yours, kissing him.

[inkstainedfanfics]

To a Wonder, From a Fool

Request: YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PERSON AND I HOPE YOU ASCEND TO HEAVEN AND LIVE WITH ALL THE BROKEN SOULS YOUVE BROKEN WITH YOUR FANFICS ...On the other hand, i love you so much and literally live for your writings. PART 5 OF To Newt, With Love PLEASE!!!

Word Count: 2,530

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 1   |   Part 2   |   Part 3   |   Part 4

Tag List: @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @dont-give-a-bother @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ryeosomnia @fangirlingandcrying @ly--canthrope @heneed-somemilk @gemininomad @adellyhatter-blog @trying-to-benormal @akacheelz @unculturedswines

The evening ends lonely, as it always does. The sun sets in a bath of a million colors, from vivid blues that are deeper than the ocean to pastel greens that remind you of a set of eyes you haven’t seen for a long time.

Too long.

You bite your lip and step onto the walk leading up to your house. It’s a thin trail of concrete that offers little protection from the mud on either side, but, as of a week ago, it’s yours. You follow it up to your new beige front door. After fumbling with the keys, a set of three for the three ways in, you push open the door to a silent house.

You step inside with a sigh, letting the door swing shut behind you as you contemplate the long hours of restlessness that lay ahead. You haven’t been sleeping well since the move. There’s a tree branch outside your bedroom window that screeches against the pane if the wind hits it just right, and the floorboards here make no noise, quite unlike the ones at your old house that would warn you if anyone was passing them. There are no mice running through the walls, but there’s also no lone owl that sits outside your window and sings. There are no char marks on the kitchen wall, no memories of dancing in the main room, no remnants of anything.

A clean slate, or, at least, that’s what Evelyn calls it. “You need a clean slate, a fresh start, and this is it.”

You follow the wide hallway to your kitchen, eyeing the blank walls and trying to imagine what might look good hanging from them. Your frames sit in a box somewhere in the main room, waiting to be unpacked like nearly everything else you own. You’ve only bothered to take out the essentials so far: clothes, some dishes, and a black box you’d promised Evelyn you’d toss.

It sits where it did in your old house: under your bed, pressing up against the wall. That’s where it belongs.

Stepping into the kitchen, you pull open your pantry door, searching the bare shelves for something warm, something to cheer you up. There’s nothing there, though, nothing but a box of crackers and a package of tea left behind by Evelyn when she came to see the house. You decide to make the tea, craving a warm drink and praying it helps you unwind from the stress of work and the move. You listen for your neighbors as the tea brews. Your old house sat in a busy neighborhood, one where everyone was constantly bustling around, talking, shouting, little kids playing in nearby yards, tourists scratching their heads and knocking on doors asking for directions. Here, there’s nothing. Not a sound from your neighbors. They’re all locked in their houses already, reading, you assume, or perhaps knitting or playing family board games. All while you sit here in front of your stove, alone, wondering how long you’ll be lying in bed for before you manage to fall asleep.

The thought surrounds you like the steam from the pot on the stove, more and more joining it every second, and you can’t drive them away, can’t wave away their suffocating implications, their promises that it all meant nothing in the end. Your hope, your days spent next to the window, your jittery excitement as day after day passed right after you sent the letter: It had all been for nothing. You slowly slide down onto the kitchen floor, arms wrapping around your knees as you hold back tears. Newt doesn’t care and, Merlin, you know you shouldn’t either, that after this many years you should be okay with that, but you’d honestly believed he would show up at your house, come in with a grin and open arms and his cute warmth that no one can resist, but he hadn’t. Your front door rested, silent, the entire year after the letter disappeared from your hand. As quiet as your voice when Evelyn asked you if you were all right the day before you moved. As quiet as the house had been the morning after you tore up his letters.

As quiet as your life may as well have been since then.

You’ve traveled, seen the world, gathered experiences most people only write stories about, but it doesn’t matter because you’ve never truly lived them. You’ve made friends, but none of them are friends that understand you like Newt did, that know what you’re thinking before you do, that understand how you tick without having to work at it. He knew you in a way no one else ever could, and you know now that you let that go, pushed it away.

You drop your head onto your knees, small whimper leaking from your lips as two tears drip down your face. How could you have let that go? How could you have given up on him that way? He was all you wanted, not all you had but all you cared for, and you let him go over another woman. God, if you could just go back and take it all back, give him that watch without cursing, hug him and tell him that you love him more than anything, tear Leta from his arm and send her anywhere else in the world, you’d do it. You’d do it in a heartbeat.

Which would be rather quickly, given how your heart slams against your ribs right now as you cry quietly to yourself, tea completely forgotten. You ache to remember the warmth of his hugs, and the way his freckles dotted across his nose, and how he always knew when to bring you a chunk of chocolate. The argument was a silly fight, a battle of pride you never should have given in to.

You stand, wiping away your tears, trying to convince yourself that you believe it’s his fault. He was the one lying to you, he was the one that ditched you, he was the one that gave you reason to push him away.

You find a small comfort in realizing that a small part of you believes that, accepts that some of this is Newt’s fault. The typical anger follows this revelation, a familiar, comforting anger you know you can easily welcome. You can accept it, embrace it, make this all Newt’s fault.

But it isn’t. That would be a lie, just like believing he would show up was a lie, and you’re sick of lying to yourself.

You pour your tea into your favorite mug and hold it in both hands, leaning against your counter as you consider everything from the past few years. The initial betrayal, the way your heart tore when he looked down at Leta, the look on his face when you cursed at him, then the feel of the wood under you as you sobbed over him and his choices. Then finding that box filled with the letters, all fixed, something you’d never expected, never thought would happen, watch and key safely snuggled atop them with a simple note telling you he’d forgiven you. You fiddle with the mug. He’d never replied to your own message of regret, a sign you take as proof that he left his note as a sign of moving on. He doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, doesn’t want to risk the awkward conversations and sad memories. You swallow your grief.

Then you let him go, let go of the old memories, let go of everything you hold for and against him. You turn him into nothing more than a regret you’ll leave in your past. That’s all he can be for your sake.

The sun dips under the horizon, leaving a murky blue blanket behind. A cue to head upstairs. Your new job as a magical creature caretaker starts early enough at eight, a full night of sleep will help.

You walk through the empty hall again, ignoring the spots that stare at you, begging for a picture.

You’ll have to find new ones to fill the spaces.

You’re halfway up the staircase when you realize you forgot to lock the front door. You heave out a long sigh as you turn around, plodding back down the stairs, steps heavy.

A small window near the top of the door offers you the chance to peek out to your front stoop, which has so far been rather useless since the only person that stops by is Evelyn. You freeze now, though, still a quarter of the way up the steps when you see a shadow moving outside.

No one should be here, not at this hour. Evelyn should be at home with Dorothy, reading her stories and tucking her into bed, and you haven’t told anyone else your new address yet.

A burglar. Your hands shake and you bend down slowly, eyes never leaving the shadow, to place your mug on the step, freeing both hands. Your wand appears in your hand with a wordless spell, and you steel yourself for a potential fight.

Then the intruder knocks.

You blink. You’ve never heard of a burglar knocking. Perhaps… perhaps it’s a neighbor, asking to borrow something or invite you to the neighborhood. Weird time, but then again, your neighbors seem kind of weird.

Stepping slowly, you approach the door, wand still ready if it’s necessary.

The room falls silent as you rest your hand on the knob, lip between your teeth, debating whether to open the door. Figuring you should have the upper hand in surprise, you yank it open, stepping to the side with the door in case the person lunges for you.

You look up. All the air rushes from your lungs as you stare up at familiar, green eyes.

“I, um, have a housewarming gift.” The green-eyed man procures a bundle of daisies from behind his back, freckles hidden in his flushed face, hands shaking slightly.

Your wand clatters to the ground as you throw your arms around his shoulders, wrenching him down to your height.

Newt hesitates, arms out, letting you hug him for a few seconds before he wraps his own around you, holding you against him. You don’t care that he waits, that he paused. You just hold him tight against you, breathing in his smell, reveling in the musky scent and the scratch of his jacket against your cheek. He’s back. Newt’s back.

You laugh against his shoulder, squeezing him tighter and tighter until there’s no space between the two of you, until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. You just hold him, eyes watering in exhilaration and elation. Newt’s back.

He doesn’t waver in his own grasp, something that surprises you, given that he’s never been very fond of hugs. He grips you as tightly as you grip him, though, not letting go until you’re a teary mess and step back, wanting to see him, take him in fully.

A new, white scar crosses the bridge of his nose, and black crescent moons hang under his eyes. His hair is a long mess, unkempt curls grazing the middle of his neck. He’s pale, too, as though he hasn’t slept well, which only emphasizes the black circles.

You don’t consider that this should be awkward, should be uncomfortable, should be full of apologies and stuttering. You just reach up to poke the scar.

“What’s this from?”

Newt laughs breathlessly once, still trying to accept that you’re there, in front of him for the first in five years. “Niffler attack.”

You scrunch your face up in confusion.

He shakes his head. “Don’t try to take an emerald necklace. What about you?”

His hand raises to trail over a long scar carved across your temple close to your hairline.

“Horntails don’t like chicken.”

His smile quirks up as his hand drops to his side. “You tried to feed a dragon chicken?”

You shrug, glowing at his smile. You’ve missed it oh so much. “It was my lunch break.” You bask in his warm laugh.

Newt glances around the front hall, eyes stopping on your mug. “Decorating seems to be going well.”

You snatch it up, making a face at him. “It doesn’t usually sit there.”

“No?” Newt says, holding back another laugh.

“No.” You pause, fiddling with the cup, spinning it and watching the liquid vortex inside. “But if you’d like some, I have another glass.”

Newt stills, not breathing, knowing the entire future of your friendship hangs on this answer.

“That’d be lovely.”

You heart starts beating again and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, smile becoming shy as you nod toward the kitchen. “It’s just down this way.”

Newt’s own smile brightens as he nods, swooping down to grab your wand. “Your weapon.”

You roll your eyes at his smirk. “You could have been a burglar for all I know. Does a single person living alone in this town seem completely protected to you?”

Newt’s smile softens as he follows you into the kitchen. “With you being the hypothetical single person? No, I suppose not.”

You fake a scowl at him as best you can with the happiness bubbling from your chest. “Who said I have to be that person?”

The skin around his eyes wrinkles up as he lays the flowers still in his hand on the table. “Experience.”

“Whatever.”

He steps past you, grabbing a tall glass and filling it with water. “You are the one that nearly stepped onto a moving staircase as it was shifting away.”

“An accident, completely.”

He drops the flowers in the makeshift vase as you pour more tea into another mug. “It’s still proof that you’re the least safe person I have ever met.”

You take the flowers, noticing a tag around one stem that says To a Wonder, From a Fool. He takes the mug, not noticing your pause, and you meet his eyes, a weight you’d carried for five years lifting from your shoulders as he sits at the table and continues talking, teasing you, acting like nothing happened between the two of you. He explains that he received the address from Evelyn, who stopped him outside your own house. It had taken him a week to earn her trust enough to receive it, but now he’s here and he’s glad. He’s so glad. You grin at him, sipping your tea, telling him you’ll thank Evelyn the next time you see her. Then you ask about his long hair, teasing him about the mess it has become.

You both said your apologies multiple times over throughout the past few years in notes and actions. There’s no need to give them now, no need to worry if the other harbors resentment. Not when Newt’s jacket sleeve droops down to reveal the heavy watch and your black box sits upstairs under the bed, Newt knowing you never tossed it.

You don’t need to worry about becoming friends again. You just need to worry about remembering every great story from the past five years that Newt hasn’t heard yet.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie, Bronson, Charlie & Bea

Ronnie: I'm going on a run Ronnie: who wants? Bronson: My stash is depleted for some unknown reason 🤔 please stock me up Charlie: Ooh, new year new you babe? Charlie: couch to 5k is it aspirational af 😍 Bea: ✋ me Ronnie: fuck off i just dont need you pussies crying when you can't scav my gear Ronnie: what'll it be princess? the usual Charlie: c'mon, we've always shared everything, nothing is your own #carekidlife Bronson: Ha! That'll be why the lock on my door never sticks Bea: yep, not decided to get heavily into crack since we last spoke, just lots of amphetamines in any form you find 'em, tah, got exams coming up Ronnie: Shame Ronnie: reckon I'd like you more on the hard shit Charlie: just in case you missed the old place, man, giving you that nostalgia for when you had to padlock anything that wasn't bolted to the floor 😜 Bronson: Good times! 😀 Bea: Shame I'm not trying to be your type then, I guess Bea: soz darling, spoken for 💋 Charlie: Truly, missing that tenner a week pocket money, LUXURY! Ronnie: fucking am Ronnie: pissing jobcentre Bronson: I'll add it to your tab if you're desperate as Charlie: gotta learn to play their game, babe Charlie: not throw the board in a hissy Ronnie: 🖕 doss cunts Bea: catch me here fanning myself with sweet, sweet debt for future me to give a shit about Bronson: I'll wipe it out if you use some to keep me sweet Bea: sweet enough sugar 😘 Bea: but forreal, if you could manage that I would be your sugar mama for LIFE 🙏 Bronson: It's student loans not the feds Bronson: Easy peasy Bea: true, like all branches of the gov, pretty fucking useless Bea: but I'm an immigrant as far as they concerned so they treat me SO good 😋 Bronson: Same, but we can always stretch our hands out a little further Ronnie: To jack it and pat yourself on the back at the same time, yeah? Ronnie: calm it down Bronson: New year, new look too! Green looks ace with black 😄 Bea: Clearly do not have natural rhythm Ronnie, that's really not that difficult Bea: You're not a drummer, are you? 😕 Ronnie: get off my tits all of yous Ronnie: do you want gear or nah? Bronson: 🤐 Bea: I thought you'd already gone tbh Ronnie: not trying to score that weak gay shit Ronnie: hitting up a more reliable source like Charlie: rude, i'm RIGHT here Ronnie: are you even gay fitzy? always in my pussy lad Bronson: 😷 Bea: 🤢 Charlie: idk, ask ur man 💖 Ronnie: that'll be why me and Bron's dads did a bunk Bronson: Get yourself locked up at the same time just for the d, did you? Romantic Charlie: if the porn n the stereotypes n the rate of STIs are anything to go by...love is in the air always in cell block h Ronnie: princess'll have some handcuffs to get you on your way to that good loving Bea: 🚿🧠 anyone got any bleach? Bea: Charlie isn't worth the 💰 use cable ties, more authentic Bronson: 99 🚔 My fingers are on the button....Stop for the love of god Ronnie: Bron can help you out there Fitz Ronnie: 🤓 Bronson: Take that over a thicko label Charlie: Look, babe, know you wanna tie me down forever but do it yourself, don't involve the kid Charlie: 💍 diamond or no D, soz Ronnie: Bring a needle I'll snag a gem Bronson: Don't go there, C, I'm still riding the ear infection wave Bronson: It's been 84 years Ronnie: yeah cause you're a mong that can't turn an earring Bronson: In my defense I was a legit child Bea: nothing screams low-class like stabbing your friends for the bants Charlie: and i already scream homo loudly enough, don't need another reason to be hate crime-d, a thank you Bronson: If I didn't know you I'd guess bisexual Bronson: You can have that for free Charlie: what a smooth-talker! thanks babe 💖 Charlie: and if i didn't know you, i'd guess you were trying to see my dongle Bronson: Been there, repressed the trauma o that Ronnie: get a fucking room benders Charlie: why you being so homophobic when we all know how bad you want on princess? cliche stuck in the closet much Bea: shut up Ronnie: in your wet dreams Charles Ronnie: fuck off Charlie: oh the delicious tension Charlie: too much for either to bear Ronnie: I know where she's been Ronnie: fuck that Ronnie: like you wish you could gayboy Bronson: Wait, you fancy Fraze, Charlie? Ha Bea: Bron can you not encourage either of them Bea: thanks Bronson: Sorry my mind's just blown I thought he was out of his straight boy phase Charlie: What? Its a compliment for you, he's adorable, why else would you be with him? Ronnie: they're both annoying cunts Ronnie: match made Charlie: and never out of that phase, bro 😍 #daddyissues Bea: get his name out of your mouth bitch Ronnie: oi get your mouth off his dick Fitzgerald you heard her Ronnie: princess is raging like Ronnie: when your mans a slag and youre a prude Bea: As if Bea: Only one McKenna fucked up to go near you Bea: #singletear Charlie: Children, enough Ronnie: Bron do that final 9 she's going off 😂 Bronson: Walking away Bea: know you're hard up but as per we're all funding you getting your rocks off so run along and do it, no need to bore me trying to get your kicks Ronnie: know youre a snobby cunt but I don't work for you Bea: you don't work for anyone, not even JC gonna fund your lack of a life Ronnie: 🖕 mad cause I don't need reddies to fund myself Bea: yeah fuming Bea: if only I'd have thought of selling my body, wouldn't even NEED to be at cambs rn omg Ronnie: nailed it Bea: 😂 Bea: whodathunkit Bea: talking to the cure for cancer stuck inside a waster here Bea: and I'm the snob, okay Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: devvo like Bea: We can tell Bea: you don't need to shout about it, you've got the energy of a walking wasteland Ronnie: can't wait until you take some more speed and get more smug Bea: Right? Bea: Must sting, better only getting better Bea: why don't you get something to numb the pain- Ronnie: let you know how it feels when the lads come up Bronson: A rare compliment, you hitting it already? Ronnie: you'll have your share calm the fuck down Charlie: i don't want any, i'm busy Charlie: glad you all noted my silence, feel so listened to usually! hmpf Ronnie: so now you're a little bitch too Ronnie: fuck's sake Bronson: PARTY TIME, am I right? Really in the mood now thanks everyone Charlie: who's in who's pussy, dollface? Charlie: keep your shirt on, Bro 😂 got enough with the two angry feminists here Charlie: I've got previous plans, if you're really so hurt, you can save me some, no? Whaddya mean that'd hurt more? 😏 Bea: you're alright, I personally rather you weren't there, suits me 😘 Bronson: Shirts already off, too late 😜 Bea: Standard 👌 Charlie: you big man whore Charlie: when i'm not around to be predatory, too, tuttut Bronson: I'd wilt under your stare, you know you aren't missing out Charlie: our beautiful wallflower Charlie: I bagsy being a red rose, lil trashy but iconic Bronson: Thorn in our sides Bronson: accepted Bea: Nice one, babe Bea: i'll be an orchid, because i'm beautiful, ornamental and high-maintenance Bea: getting in there before any of you fucks can Charlie: though your silence IS noted, wonwon Charlie: don't be cross at me 😘 Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: you're not the only one who's busy Ronnie: got a dick in my mouth too like Charlie: such a skilled multitasker Charlie: teach me your ways Bronson: in private please Bronson: not a lesson I want to learn Bea: we're not living in that teen movie Ronnie: On my way Bea: 👍 getting cash out, meet you there Bronson: Doors on the latch

Bea: Morning sweetness 😴 Bea: manage to recover your good vibe/night? Bronson: is it? 😪 Bronson: Until now it wasn't too bad Bronson: Do you get to say the same or is it pure suffering? Bea: Wow, when you hit bae up with that morning text and he's like day=ruined 😰 thought we was forever 😉 Bea: Decided to get off with someone around the same time I lost track of yous, so it was fucking awful, don't tell me you coulda told me that Bronson: It's only the comedown I wanna dump you're welcome to come and nap 💗 Bronson: Not to be that know it all Bea: Molly's such a cruel, cruel mistress, she wants you to miss her when she's gone 💁 Bea: Poor bubba, better than waking up next to that pushy bitch from last night though, Jesus, what was her damage? Bea: I reckon he'd actually gone out and had his drunken kebab and THEN PAID TO GET BACK IN Bea: No sir, not alright Bea: Why do I bother? Bronson: But I'm shamelessly smitten, only girl for besides present company like Bronson: Whatever it is she's not the first or last sufferer Bronson: Thanks for the bail out and sorry I wasn't there to do the same with kebab Kev Bea: N'awwh 💞 glad I hold more appeal than Tina, don't need to be going down that route Bea: It's an epidemic! Basic bitches who can't get a man willing, yeah take that out on innocent onlookers who ain't buying and talk about how your ex ain't shit for being a creepy letch Bea: We see you sweets 💅 Bea: Any time, even if you weren't there to take that donner breath bullet Bea: I'd never ask that of anyone, even Ronnie, though she'd brag about not being arsed, I'm sure 😂 Bronson: Next time I'll carry gum and throw it at whoever you deem worthy Bronson: Give me the nod Bronson: It was all over her socials like we had a good night together until I got there first Bronson: Rather take out Tina and all her mates Bea: as if you don't already Bea: if only little miss would-be-rapist knew that strong jawline was from gurning up a storm 😉 Bea: not so sexy now Bronson: there's nothing in my pockets I'm just pleased to see you Bronson: Seriously though, some of those selfies had to go for that unflattering reason alone taking into account none of her other antics Bronson: I looked a state Bea: 😂 not fallen for that one before but i'll make an exception for you boo Bea: catch me in my duvet cocoon, please don't look at me 'cos same Bea: I dread to think Bea: kept off my accounts for that reason and many more, some of us have reputations to uphold, skank Bronson: want me to check Bronson: clean up the carnage Bronson: Then brunch, your treat Bea: please Bea: roleplay my IT bitch and I'll be feeling my boss best in time for a liquid lunch Bea: will have to damage control my face first, enjoy watching me lovingly whilst I turn a -2 to an 11 Bronson: Never get bored of staring at you, you know that Bronson: Make my hair great again Bronson: Thanks Bea: when you shoulda been Trump's campaign manager 😕 Bea: sort the weave, clean up that twitter Bea: what a wonderful world it coulda been Bronson: Last night proves I can't stop him pussy grabbing Bronson: Need you for that one Bea: This pussy bites back 😼 Bea: its not your fault, girls like that, if you tell her to fuck off, and rightly so, it'd be made like YOU were being a prick to her Bea: gotta bullshit these hoes sometimes, tis the only way Bronson: Or playing hard to get...they fire that one at me loads Bronson: 😦 Bea: 🤢 gross Bea: got that one myself a fair few times, when I'm not being accused of being a prude by Ronaldo, hilariously Bea: People are the worst Bea: 'cept us Bronson: It's only because she likes you Bronson: Flattering, isn't it? Bronson: Being called broken is my fave Bronson: "Who hurt you?" You are right now, fuck off before you get a slap yourself to feel the pain of Bea: Wouldn't that just be the perfect solution in their simplistic little world? If only Bea: Save myself the feelings of disgust not brought on by kebab breath Bea: Though, if you think that that's love coming from Ron, then you do have an answer to their riddle right there, not real but the masses'll take one look at her and buy it 😜 Bronson: No arguments here Bronson: Your socials are sparkling now so that's real comfort to take Bea: 💖 yay Bea: the world never need know Bea: as long as I didn't drunk dial or text Fraze, this day is looking up, tah babes Bronson: Not to be a know it all again so quick Bronson: but I'm going to go ahead and guess the answer to that one Bea: BITCH DON'T KILL MY VIBE Bea: I'm sure I'd have angry ranting in my inbox if I had Bea: or a passive indirect on the socials, come across one perchance smartiepants? Bronson: Might've Bronson: I'll spare you Bea: Noooooooooooooooooooo Bea: Coulda had it all Bea: Really sours my Bloody Mary Bea: Fuck sake, now he's going to think I FUCKED kebab kev and enjoyed it meanwhile I sit here virginal and scrubbing my mouth out with soap Bea: How's this game fair again, please remind me Bronson: It isn't Bronson: But I can't tell you to stop playing Bronson: All yours Bea: you're meant to be a superwhizkid Bea: can't you think up a strategy so I win Bronson: Thinking cap is on Bronson: Because my hair still looks shit as much as Bea: I'll fix your barnet Bea: Between you and Charlie, honestly Bea: Never known boys like it 😂 Bea: blatant lie, have you seen how particular Fraze is but he doesn't really have much hair to be stylin' so Bronson: 👴 awkward Bea: you fool Bea: not like that 😂 Bea: though I'll keep it in my backpocket for when we inevitably row later Bea: #malepatternbaldnessBITCH Bronson: Freebie to kick your day off right again Bea: if you refuse to tell me what to do, could you use your skillz for good at least and fucking disable my phone when i'm fucked Bronson: Last time I tried you tried to fight me like Bea: Look, I didn't say it was a task for the fainthearted 😉 Bea: and yes, you would be the first to succeed too Bea: but if anyone can, its my man 😘 Bronson: Ego boost before eggs Bronson: Whoa Bronson: Today is looking up Bea: Gotta keep you sweet with all the bitching I'll no doubt do at brunch Bea: such a Carrie move, like no one cares bitch, write it in your column or books or...what did she even write? Or was she just monologuing at her computer, like all been there babe but don't act like its buying you all that designer Bronson: Her real true love was that laptop Bronson: Solved it Bea: 😲 Bea: but Mr. Big Bea: clue in the name Bronson: Could be his wallet Bronson: explain the designer gear Bea: Exactly Bea: Just my type Bronson: I'd go in for it if I can spend and send him the receipts Bea: you must be aware there are websites for that Bea: get on it boy Bronson: It all gets too sexual for my tastes Bea: set out boundaries Bea: different strokes for different folks Bea: i'm SURE there's a millionaire out there that just wants to chat Bronson: 🤔 There's enough fighting off advances in the club Bronson: Shelving that until millionaires become good people Bea: not bad people by default Bea: just a bad system they profit from more than you Bronson: Getting deep in here Bronson: Truth though Bea: real talk take #2 Bea: where do you think charlie was last night? and who or what was he doing? Bronson: Good questions that I have no answer to Bronson: If he had a job we'd all know Bea: I need to know, suspense is killing me Bea: I didn't think anything beat drugs in his book Bea: somewhat encouraging? Bronson: You could ask but I doubt you'd get far enough into the real Bronson: It is Bronson: Boy's growing up? Bea: Full of the #bants them two Bronson: Since day 1 Bronson: I'm coming to get you, Barbara Bronson: Ready yourself Bea: *falls over gravestones like a dumb bitch* Bea: i'm good to go and looking fly Bronson: I'll do the coded knock Bronson: Made up rn Bea: Helpful Bronson: That's my thing Bronson: Soon, my love, soon