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c4p7ch4 · 2 years

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One-Shot: Basta (Inkheart) x OC

welp, reading the latest Basta content on here made my mind go down a spiral I couldn't escape and I had to write this idea down, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to find peace, enjoy!

Warning: might be out of character, it's the middle of the night and I can't think straight, also: English is not my first language

24th of December. It was Zeras first Christmas Eve in Capricorns Village. Not that it mattered, if she hadn't bribed one of the boys to bring her back a newspaper from the nearby village, she would have missed it's passing anyways. In Capricorns Village, the feeling of time got completely lost and neither capricorn nor his men ever celebrated any holidays.

Sometimes they celebrated for no reason at all, using the opportunity as an excuse to get drunk 'til unconciousness. Some blackjackets would celebrate their birthdays, but most times they partied to celebrate a triumph, like the subjugation of another village or the torching of the house of a rebellious farmer who didn't want to pay his tribute.

Zera hated these occasions, her position of the villages doctor obligated her to take care of any drunkards that were stupid and aggressive enough to start a fight with each other and get hurt.

But tonight promised to be calm. The days got dark early and made most of the men too tired and slothful to stay awake for too long.

Basta was the exception. Sometimes it seemed that he didn't sleep at all. Zera would see him aimlessly strolling in the streets at ungodly times, times when she would stare out of the window of her prison cell in the kitchen of Capricorns mansion, waiting for the night to pass or for sleep to take her.

In the end, Bastas restlessness got the best of him and he got the flu. Either his immune system was terribly weak or he was a terrible cry baby, but 2 days ago he showed up at Zeras doorstep and asked for medical advice.

He could barely stand (or maybe pretended to be this weak, but his red swollen eyes and runny nose and hoarse voice were proof enough for Zera not to send him away) and Zera put him to bed in one of the spare sleeping quarters next to the kitchen. She's been nursing him since then, bringing him his food and medicine to bed, sometimes a hot tea which he'd only drink with lots of sugar, otherwise he wouldn't be able to "gulp down this terrible potion of yours", other times she'd bring a wet cloth to clean himself- he sweated a lot because of the fever, but he refused to take off his shirt. Zera wouldn't argue, if he wanted to postpone his recovery this badly, so be it, she didn't have the time nor the energy to start a meaningless discussion.

Zera was shocked about herself when she realised that she liked seeing Basta suffer- it was only a portion of the suffering he put other people through. She was even more shocked when she realised, that she almost liked him for company in this state: too weak to seem a threat, too drought to be angry and irritable for too long. It was almost possible to have a somewhat normal conversation with him.

This night, they were talking about holidays. Or more: Zera was interrogating Basta about the holidays they'd celebrate in the inkworld. She hated that he came from such an interesting and enchanting world- it was too much fun, to have him talk about his fantastical home, to keep away from him and alienate him for the horrible person he is. It was such a welcome change to all the restless nights she spent alone, sitting in the dark shadows of her prison.

After sometime, Zera asked:

"What about birthdays? Do you celebrate the day you were born or the day you were christened?"

"The day we were what? No, those that do celebrate, celebrate on the day they were named by their parents." Basta said confused, then added after thinking for a moment: "Which happens for most people to be the day they were born."

Basta raised his cup of tea to his mouth, still full to the brim but no longer hot, when Zera asked another question and made him lower his cup again to answer.

"And when is your birthday? I've been here for a year now, but I've never seen you be celebrated. I imagined, Capricorns first in command would throw himself quite a feast, getting drunk with all his friends, beating each other up for fun and get even more drunk to make up for the bruises" Zera teased and expected a smug look to turn up on his face. His expression turned empty instead and he lowered his look to his cup.

"I never celebrated my birthday. I don't even know what day it is" he muttered.

"You don't know the day you were born?" Zera asked amused, but her smile vanished when she saw the grim look on Bastas face.

"Can't you shut up for a moment and let me drink this awful brew of yours in peace? It's not even warm anymore, that's how long you've been talking all over my ears!" he snapped at her.

Stunned, Zera watched him for a moment, not knowing what to say. 'Well, seems like he is healthy enough to be himself again.' She thought to herself.

Without another word she stood up from the chair, she was sitting on, next to Bastas bed, and left for the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

She wanted to be angry at Basta for being rude, but she couldn't help but think about what he just told her.

He never celebrated his birthday, and he doesn't even know the date. That means, no one ever celebrated with him. Not even his parents? Not even his friends?

Thinking about it, Zera wondered if he even had friends. She concluded, that he didn't have any. He was too much of an irritable person to be around and the men, even though they made fun of him behind his back, feared him and his knife and his uncontrollable anger and short temper.

Zera strolled through the empty kitchen, a ray of moonlight, that cut through the window, drew her attention to some abandoned cooking utensils.

Damn you Basta, I'm not gonna celebrate my christmas sad and hungry.

After scavenging the kitchen, Zera decided to make herself something sweet, a little treat to have a small portion of her freedom back. While preparing the oven and mixing together a dough of flour and cocoa, her thoughts wandered back to Basta.

She wanted to be angry at him, but Christmas wasn't the time to be angry, was it?

An awful, awful idea crept up in Zeras mind. She tried to surpress it, but after she finished mixing the dough, she thought to herself 'Screw it' and went ahead with her plan.

When she was finished, she hesitated, waiting in front of the door to the room Basta was in, wondering if she should screw this plan after all.

Maybe he was already asleep anyways. And heaven only knows what happens, if I wake him up for something as stupid as this-

Before Zera could finish her train of thought, the door before her fell open and Basta crashed into her, not expecting for her to stand right outside the door.

The little candle, that sticked out of the small chocolate cake she held in hands, almost caught onto Bastas shirt. He took a few steps back and frantically searched his sleeves for any signs of catching fire.

"The hell?! What were you doing?"

Zera didn't know what to answer.

'Oh, I don't know, I just felt sympathy for your sad backstory of never having a birthday celebrated in your life and thought, honoring the spirit of christmas, we could celebrate it now to make up for all those lost years'

Instead of answering verbally, she held up the cake to Bastas face.

He took a step back with a fearful expression. Fear turned to irritation and he asked:

"What's that?"

"A cake"

"Yeah, no shit? I meant, what's it for? And why did you put a candle in it?"

"It's your birthdaycake. Birthdaycakes have candles for you to blow out and make a wish."

Basta looked confused, then irritated again.

"But, it's not even my birthday"

"We don't know. You said you didn't know when your birthday is. Maybe it is today"

Basta still looked suspicious and confused. And Zera grew more and more embarassed. She couldn't look him im the eyes and after a while of both of them just standing in the doorway, she asked irritated:

"Well, you want it or what? I don't plan on standing here all night! Now go and get a fork- if you make a mess, I'm not gonna clean it up!"

Zera regrettet her words as soon as they left her mouth. Did she really just give Basta a command? Basta doesn't take commands!

She braced herself for his wrath, but it didn't come. Instead, he strolled past her to the kitchen and did as she bid. Now he was the one who was too stunned to speak.

Zera breathed heavily and went back to her chair. Basta came back, settled down on the bed and hesitated to take the cake from her.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I don't want any, it's yours."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"I wouldn't waste the cocoa. Now take it, it's chocolate"

Basta took the plate, wary of the burning candle, and set it down in his lap, looking down at it, contemplating for a moment. Then he went on to take the still burning candle out. Zera held him back before he took it out.

"Don't! You have to make a wish and blow it out first!"

He looked at her confused, not at her face but on the small hand that held down his.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well...because it's tradition" she said and drew back her hand.

Basta sighed annoyed, but raised the plate to his mouth.

"If you insist..." he mumbled and thought for a moment, then went on "I wish for-"

"Stop!" Zera interrupted again and Basta looked up at her, more stunned than annoyed.

''You mustn't say your wish out loud! Otherwise it won't work!"

Zera has never been superstitious and thought it childish herself to insist on these vanities, but if this was Bastas first birthday-celebration, it was to be done properly.

"Any other instructions you have for me or can we get this over with?" Basta asked, Zera noticed that his face was flushed, but blamed it on the fever.

"You have to close your eyes when you make your wish"

Basta rolled his eyes, annoyed, but went ahead with it and for a moment, his face was fully relaxed.

It was almost mesmerizing to see him like this- at peace, almost a dreamy expression.

Then he blew out the candle, Zera took the candle and gestured Basta to start eating while she went to put the candle away. It took her a while to get back to him, she needed some time to calm down from a weird stomach ache that suddenly occured. Maybe she was getting sick too.

By the time she came back, he had fully finished his plate. She took it away and without another word spoken, they both got ready for bed.

When they both settled down for the night- Basta in bed and Zera slouched over the chair, feet leaning on the feets end of Bastas bed, just like the previous nights, Zera asked him:

"What did you wish for?"

"I thought, I wasn't supposed to tell. You said it wouldn't work if I did"

"Screw that, it doesn't work anyways. Now tell me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know"

"I'm not going to tell you"

"Well, then I'm just gonna mess with you until you do"

Zera kicked Bastas feet.

"Come on, tell me"

She kicked again.

"What did you wish for?"

"Would you please let me sleep?" Basta snapped.

"Let me think... no. First you have to tell me what you wished for."

As an answer, Basta threw a pillow at her, throwing her off balance and knocking her off the chair. Zera fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"Serves you right" Basta growled and turned his back to her.

"Fine, then don't tell me" Zera said defeated and sat back on her unconfortable chair.

"A kiss" Basta said after a while into the dark, he wasn't even sure, if Zera was still awake.

"What?" she asked fully awake.

"My wish. I wished for a kiss"

"That's it? Pretty basic, why wish for a kiss?" Zera dared to ask.

"I don't know." Basta replied.

After a while he added: "I want to know what it feels like"

Zera didn't reply. It sounded like she was asleep.

She wasn't.

She waited a while, maybe an hour or two, and when it sounded like Basta was asleep, she quietly got up, searched for his face in the dark and lighlty pressed her lips to his. Then she settled back down on her chair and went back to sleep.

Basta did not.

#whats wrong with me? it's literally 1 am #screw me #this man #the audacity he has to life rentfree in my head #at least its clean in here #hes a clean-freak #and a depressed bastard #inkheart basta #inkheart oc #basta x oc #also: zera has feels and doesnt realize #and diarreah #i feel you zers #i feel you #ok bye #i have to go to work in like... five hours #me=dead

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Ooo, I kinda like the idea that no one sees Tubbo's akumatization coming, even Tubbo? Like, if Ladybug and Chat have filled them in that folks who are experiencing negative emotions are likely candidates for akumatization, then when the Miraculous get taken back by Gabriel, they're all on the lookout for folks who are upset so they can try to get a jump on preventing or stopping akumatizations. Therapuffy and Eret are basically working overtime to encourage open communication and emotional literacy among everyone, lol. And Tubbo's so good at appearing functional, at pushing down his issues, at focusing on the next task to ignore all the past failures, it kind of goes assumed that he's doing alright.

So one day, it's been like a couple weeks since the Miraculous got stolen back. Everyone's been on high alert trying to keep akumas under control, sometimes even responding before Ladybug and Chat do. Because they're just kids, aren't they? They should have a normal teenage experience as much as they can; the Gremlins can handle it as long as they bring the akuma to Marinette to purify later. Point being, the Gremlins have been busy.

And then Tubbo just has one bad day. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed, restless and exhausted from nightmares he didn't bother to tell anyone about, because if he can get back to sleep eventually, clearly they weren't that bad. Plus he's stressed about finding the Miraculous again; it wasn't so hard to steal them in the first place, so why are they so hard to track down now? He'd bonded a little bit with Nooroo and Duusuu, he doesn't want to think about them back in Gabriel's clutches. So he's working himself to the bone trying to figure out where Gabriel might be.

And he and Ranboo are out patrolling for akumas or any other sign of Hawkmoth, and at just the wrong time, Tubbo overhears some kids talking about current events.

"He's such an idiot! Honestly, he's a horrible president. That whole country would be better off without him."

And Tubbo... he knows they're not talking about him. Obviously they're not. No one here even knows about L'manberg, and Tubbo hasn't been president for a long time. All the same, it brings up memories of Dream, smugly telling Tubbo that he'd been playing him for weeks, for months, calling him the worst president ever, calling him stupid. And no one had even denied it, least of all Tubbo. He can't think of one decision he'd made as president that he doesn't want to take back.

But it was ages ago. And Tubbo's over it, he definitely is, he doesn't care. So he ignores his stewing thoughts and keeps walking with Ranboo, just a bit quieter.

And a few minutes later, they see an akuma flying towards them, and they both get ready to follow it and warn whoever it's going for. But it doesn't turn away, it just keeps flying towards them. And they exchange an uneasy look.

"Tubbo?" Ranboo asks, a little nervous when he takes a step away and the akuma doesn't veer from its course. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Tubbo says immediately, like he always does, like it's routine. "I'm fine. It's not me, I'm totally fine."

But the akuma clearly thinks otherwise. And as Ranboo watches in growing apprehension, the akuma dodges Tubbo's attempts to swat it away and lands neatly on the necklace he wears close to his chest, a locket with a group photo of all the gremlins on one side and a portrait of Michael on the other. Black clouds cover the locket, and a familiar purple butterfly appears over Tubbo's eyes as Ranboo shouts in alarm.

And Tubbo had wondered in the past what it was like to be akumatized, how Hawkmoth had apparently been persuasive enough to convince half of Paris to attack their heroes. But now, he understands: it isn't Hawkmoth's offer that convinces people. It's the sudden rush of emotions that floods his veins, every inch of him abruptly crying out in hurt and betrayal and outrage. It's the feeling of a pot boiling over, scalding water splashing out and burning everything in range. It's the furious tremble in his fingers as he's consumed by the sole thought that he didn't deserve what happened to him, that he's been wronged so deeply it hurts, that the only way to make it stop is to make everyone else understand just how he feels. The blood roaring in Tubbo's ears is almost enough to drown out Ranboo, who's shouting something and tugging at Tubbo's arm, but Hawkmoth's voice comes through crystal clear.

"Ah, little Tyrant," says Gabriel Agreste, pleased as the cat who caught the canary, and doesn't that just make Tubbo's blood boil even more. "I was hoping it'd be one of you eventually."

"Get out of my head," Tubbo says, teeth clenched so tightly his jaw aches.

"Oh, of course, Tyrant," Gabriel placates. "Of course. But first... First, I am going to give you the power to ensure you're never attacked again. I will make sure you are heard. I will give you an outlet for all that fury simmering inside of you. And in return, you are going to bring me the other Miraculous."

And logically. Logically, Tubbo knows it's a bad deal. Logically, he knows Marinette and Adrien are his friends, and he'd never try to take their Miraculous. Logically, he should say no, should get Marinette to the akuma and cleanse it and move on and ignore it.

But his emotions are running higher and hotter than he thought possible, and all he can see is Hawkmoth, offering him a way to get rid of them, to feel better, to make everyone finally get it.

And it's not like it'd be hard to grab a couple of Miraculous.

"Alright," says Tyrant, eyes dark. "You've got a deal."

There's a crash of thunder, a billowing outpour of smoke from the corrupted locket, and then Tubbo vanishes, leaving Ranboo alone in the streets of Paris.

"Uh," says Ranboo into his phone, voice high-pitched with panic. "Guys, we have a problem."

;-;

Welp. This hurts. Thanks anon. Oh boy. This hurts a lot. Oh wow.

#dream smp #dream smp au #miraculous gremlin squad au #tubbo #ranboo #ask #drabble

162 notes · View notes

ka-writes · 3 years

Text

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Welp sorry it be late, schools a bitch..

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Warning: murder, crime, cussing, depression, mentions of abuse, insanity.

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ao3 link:

Other fic:

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Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 7:

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Chapter 8: Some sort of remedy..

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Days turned into months which all ended in an ever growing pit of hopelessness.

Six months had passed since they lost the starlings. SIX fucking months, and not a damn sign that the Dream Team were even out there.

His eyes burned as he stared into the void for hours on end. The only thing keeping him from going out of the emergency hatch being the warm cup of coffee that somehow kept it’s warmth on the freezing ship.

His skin was flaky and sticky, yet he couldn’t be bothered to wash it. His stomach turned in pain, when was the last time he had eaten? His throat was sore from the coffee and his entire body complained about the stress.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache that seemed to seep from his core and into his bones and blood, making him more weak than physical health could ever compare too.

At this point tears were long forgotten, only leaving stains where they should be. It did nothing but cause more damage than good. His brain turned with thoughts that swore there would be vengeance for whoever stole his family.

The time had given him plans of what he would do. Most of them ending up with the starlings safe and the ship and inhabitants blown up in a painful death made by his favorite chemicals. There would be no time for them to escape and nothing would remain if he could help it.

Even then his mind was brought back to the sheer feeling of the empty void that was so easily accessible. No one could stop him if he tried, yet everything held him back.

He took a sip staring into the void, his mind buzzing with thoughts bouncing from topic to topic.

He remembered Tubbo’s eyes. The way they shone with a crave for knowledge, causing the kid to go into a fit every time Wilbur told him to go to bed.

He also remembered the distrust that gleamed in his eyes when he brought him back from that awful ship. The one that enviably broke the kid. The one that made his nature ever so careful not allowing the kid to trust anyone.

He couldn’t blame him. What Schlatt did caused his mind to forever be closed off.

He was worried for who Tubbo would blame. If it was Tommy, there would be too many issues that could cause them to fall in a different rabbit hole.

His mind wandered to the human. The bright and explosive human, that made the charred heart of Wilbur Soot turn. He had already grown attached to the kid. It had only been three days before they were ripped apart. It hurt much more than he thought it would.

His mind buzzed to the what if’s both good and bad. He took another sip. This time he stared into the void with admiration. His mind focused on plans and back ups. The details and potential failed choices. Trials and errors that only existed within the limits of his mind.

He didn’t move until Phil told him it was lunch. He pushed down the urge to hold back for another meal and ate the food offered.

He dragged a bean bag and coffee table to the spot and stared into the endless void. Continuing his train of thought, only pausing to answer questions from his family.

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“C’mon!” Tubbo whispered to the lacking Tommy who still couldn’t quite compete with the other’s agility. “The tracker says he’s in this room.”

They stalked silently to the door, having already memorized the creaks in the hallway. Tubbo pushed the door open and they dived into the room, barrel rolling so they wouldn’t be above the bed.

The pair clipped on gas masks and released the sleeping fumes. Tubbo signaled Tommy allowing him to sneak to the side of the bed. Carefully he laid down a bucket and took a knife out.

The man fell silent. His breathing stopped and there was no motion in his body.

After the blood stopped dripping they staged a suicide and left the room. Closing the distance between them and their ship easily.

Once they got to the ship, their hero congratulated them and they headed back to their room.

Strangely enough Tommy didn’t feel any type of excitement or joy at the mission going well. It felt wrong and burned his gut making him want to crawl into a ball and never wake up.

If he told Dream he would say he wasn’t going with his instincts and that he should forget the poison he was taught.

Dream was right.

So he laid in bed and silently congratulated himself, even though he wasn’t proud.

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The mission went well, in Dream’s eyes.

In Tubbo’s opinion it could’ve gone better. The human was sloppy and lacked quite a bit and was sloppy when it actually came to the job.

He was also being sloppy since he communicated more than once during the entire thing.

Hopefully he won’t have to do that when he finishes the escape route.

The only good thing that came out of the ship was he stayed fairly fit and was more attentive then he ever had been. Why did he start slacking in that sense?

His mind wandered to the many nights he stayed up late working with Wilbur on his latest fascination. Or when Techno would read his many different novels to him, since he wasn’t able to read as well as the rest of the crew. Or the times Phil would show him the cabin and teach him small tricks on how to steer the ship. Or when Ranboo and him stayed up for hours on end, exchanging small conversations and staring into the vast void of space.

Tears threatened to fall.

His mind wandered to the conversation Ranboo and Tommy had. How useless and pitiful that jealousy was. Now the one he could blame his recent pain on was laying in the same room as him, just as restless as he.

The human was strong and passionate, he could give him that. But he was also stubborn and impulsive, along with being impossibly loyal.

If Tubbo could get him on his side, they would most likely be able to get off the ship and hopefully kill their captures, if they weren’t able to get that far Wilbur and Phil definitely would.

He settled for letting himself fall asleep to the soft breaths of the human. He knew the other was still awake. He hadn’t really slept the entirety of their imprisonment most likely due to paranoia.

He wondered if he tried, maybe they would be friends or if that only existed in another world.

His thoughts roared with possibilities and thoughts of other lifes. Slowly he drifted into a slumber.

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His captain had turned into someone he no longer recognized.

Full of a sickly passion making him crave power.

Anyone and anything that got in the way was destroyed, which is how George found himself packing his case and booking a flight ticket off of the next planet.

He suggested they change the training for the starlings. Dream absolutely hated that and saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

George could feel the tears prickling his skin as he remembered how human the Dreamon looked when he finished his screaming. There were no words for the blood lust and betrayal in the dreamon’s eyes.

He bit back the pain that seemed to be swallowing him whole.

An idea blossomed.

He could use this moment as a last act of defiance.

A way to show how much pain the crew brought him.

A smile perked on his face.

An insane laugh bubbled.

Without another thought he tampered with the crew’s dreams. Letting them have the most peaceful sleep of their lives.

Dream had made a mistake. The co pilot landed the ship smoothly on the next planet.

He walked to the one room he refused to visit and opened the door.

The droneling was the first out, quickly followed by the human.

The two were off on an unknown planet and the ship was back in motion. Stopping at the planet they would use to resupply the ship and drop the ex-crewmember at.

The ship lost three inhabitants that day. Two of which got out undetected and one that would definitely have a target on his back for the rest of his life.

The other crewmen were kicked off at the next planet leaving a furious dreamon to wilt in his own madness in the void of space.

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Chapter 8-End

Words: 1455

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Hahahhahahahhabababbabbaba

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George- gets kicked out..

George- Ima make Dream mad

Proceeds to make everyone leave..

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Remember likes are appreciated but reblogs are better!! Stay safe and take care of yourself!! <3

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Chapter 9:

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ms-rampage · 4 years

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Hello. I have a little request on the Supernatural. Y/n is an Archangel. After y/n gets pregnant and gives birth, she tries to live a quiet life. Lucifer lives with them. You can ask imagine, where Y/n is forced to look after not only her restless child, but also Lucifer, who behaves like a big child. Please.

Sure!! That sounds like something I would enjoy writing!! 😁😁. I hope you enjoy!!!. Also the baby is he/she.

A Baby's Need

Lucifer & Female reader

Note: Since the reader is an Archangel, and so is Lucifer. I made them two brother and sister. Also I put a bit of Y/n's back story as an Archangel.

Also: This made me want to write a series if there were a 5th (female) Archangel that I'm gonna post shortly.

Requested: by @aida690adriana

After you had baby AJ, you had to live your life on the down low, get away and raise your child. Being an Archangel and also a single mother is something you'd thought you'd never have.

The first few months of the baby's life were pretty tough, you were constantly changing diapers, fed the baby every 2 hours. Little AJ was completely restless. You're living out in a rural area in Colorado several miles away from the city. Your closest neighbor was a mile in a half away from your home.

Your child, AJ, who you're 100% sure is a Nephilim, is 9 months old. You'd never thought you'd get pregnant because you're an Archangel, and when you found out, you had to get away. Away from Heaven, away from other angels, away from Chuck. Live a quiet normal human life.

Fornicating with humans is a big no-no, completely frowned upon in Cloud City. Everything was going great in your life, before you had the baby and a bit after you had the baby, then your big brother Lucifer found you and your son/daughter. Practically moving in with you, and now you have to deal with two babies. For the love of dad *face palm*.

He maybe "The Devil", and "The Fallen Angel" but he happens to be a bigger baby than your actual baby. A literal child. Without his powers he's completely helpless.

"Y/n!!!!" he whines from the living room, as you feed AJ his/her bottle at the kitchen table, "Y/n!! Y/n!!! Y/n!!!".

You sigh, setting the bottle down and get up to see what he wants. "What is it Lucifer?!?" you ask.

He looks up at you with a pout on his lips, "I'm bored!" he whines, flailing his arms. Stomping his feet like a child. Seeing the mess he made from whatever it was that he was eating. When was the last time this man child left the house? .

You just shrug, "Okay? What do you want me to do about it?".

"I don't know, I'm just bored!!" he continues to whine, slouching on the couch. His hair a blonde, frizzy mess.

You sometimes can't believe you're related to this celestial. Yeah he's your brother and you love him, but he's just a pain in the ass. At least with Gabriel, or even Castiel they would try to help you, their sister, and raise their nephew/niece.

"You know Lucifer you didn't have to come looking for me" you tell him as you sit down on the couch, still holding AJ, "I'm capable on taking care of myself and my child".

He gives you a mocking look, "Welp, I got tired of being in Heaven and I got bored in Hell. So I wanted to go look for my little sister" he tells you, playfully nudging your arm.

You roll your eyes, and scoff "Did you though?".

He nods, "Yeah!".

You narrow your eyes at him, "Did you though?"

Rolling his eyes at you, drooping his shoulders back, "Yes I did!".

You give him a "serious" look with a raised eyebrow "Lucifer? Did you though?".

He scoffs, playfully hitting your shoulder, "You're annoying".

You retaliate, hitting him back "You're annoying".

"You're annoying!" he says, poking your shoulder.

"You're a child!" you tell him, poking his shoulder. He sticks his tongue out at you, "See you're a child!".

You two go back and forth with the "You're annoying's" "You're a child" and hitting/poking each others shoulders.

You and Lucifer always had a good brother, sister relationship before he was cast out of Heaven, after that you lost communication with him until he found you and AJ. When he found you, he was low on grace and you had to take care of him. Nurturing him back to health, all that while taking care of your restless baby and now your older child brother.

You're the youngest out of the Archangels, and to top it off the only female. First was Michael, then Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel then you, Archangel Y/n. Technically you and Gabriel are twins but that's another story for another time. It's debatable according to Chuck.

You figured you have 4 older brothers and thought they'd be protective of you because you're their little sister. Wrong!, sort of. You still remember the day Chuck introduced you to your 4 older brothers before all the other angels were created/born.

Michael didn't really seem fond of you, neither did Raphael. Gabriel was just glad he wasn't the youngest but you two had an inseparable bond, Lucifer kept his distance from you but you grew on him, but he still saw you as the annoying little sister.

When he rebelled and was about to be cast out of Heaven, you came to his defense. Surpised that you defended him, and tried to convince your father, God, to let him stay in Heaven.

After he was cast out, you and Michael were at each others throats. Telling him that he betrayed his own family, defending Lucifer with every chance you got, if it weren't for Gabriel you probably would've gotten cast out too.

You two were both tired of seeing your brothers fight. Then Gabe left Heaven, leaving you behind not even asking you (his twin, possibly) to go with him, Raphael was disconnected from everything, and you left Heaven not long afterwards. You knew the consequences but you took the leap of faith and left.

Trying to adjusting to a human life, trying not to use your powers unless it was 100% necessary, then you met a nice guy, you two bonded, you had sex for the first time and then next thing you knew you were pregnant. You didn't know what to think of it and you told him the news.

The dude panicked, and bailed on you, leaving you by yourself. Just like your brothers and father did. Scared and not used to the human life, you hid away from everyone and everything. You made yourself forget about that man because you knew his time will come eventually. Afraid of the angels getting to you and your child.

When Lucifer found your whereabouts, he tracked you down and eventually found you, because he knew his brothers wouldn't want anything to do with him, neither would Heaven, but he knew you would. The one who came to his defense centuries ago, the one who tried to convince their father to let him stay.

"Why don't you be an uncle and hold AJ" you tell him, holding out your son/daughter to him.

He sneers at the infant, but grabs him/her holding him/her in his arms. Looking back and forth from you and your child.

"What am I supposed to do?!?" he asks, confused. Furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"Talk to him/her" you tell him, then you get up to go clean the kitchen because that's what humans do apparently.

He looks at AJ not knowing what to do or say, "Hey how's going?" he asks the infant. Making his/her typical baby sounds. Cooing and fussing in his hands.

"Can you speak?" he asks, "Talk. Speak to me! C'mon tiny human". He continues to babble to him/her, trying to get the 9 month old infant to speak to him.

You hear him talk to AJ from the kitchen, and a smile grows on your face. From hearing your big brother bond with his nephew/niece.

"Talk to me goose!" he continues to get the baby to talk to him, "What do you know of your speices?".

You laugh a little to yourself, then you hear him groan in disgust.

"Oh my dad!" he exclaims "Y/n!!!".

You go to the living room, and see him holding AJ away from him. Looking grossed out.

"Humans are disgusting!" he groans, "Why!!".

You take AJ from him, who is laughing and giggling. You check his/her diaper, Lucifer mocks the baby's laughter which only makes him/her giggle more.

"He/she pooped" you tell him, laughing. He gags in disgust, acting like a child who ate nasty vegetables for the first time. Crossing his arms, pouting on the couch.

You changed AJ's diaper, and since Lucifer is incapable of taking care of himself because of his lack of powers. You're practically forced to take care of your big brother, making sure he eats and sleeps. You still have some of your powers but you refuse to use them unless its necessary to do so.

You sometimes ask yourself if you're the 2nd eldest Archangel because of how Lucifer asks, like a child, a giant man celestial child. Him and AJ have a lot in common they're both babies, they make messes, they sleep a lot and they wake you up from your sleep.

They also constantly need to be bathed, but Lucifer can do that on his own. You learned how to cook from YouTube videos and recipes off of Pinterest. Wash clothes, and all other human activities and chores back when it was just you and AJ.

You clean up after both of them, because The Devil is still a rookie at cleaning up after himself and cleaning in general, not taking the human life very easily. He whines about everything but luckily you tolerate and put up with his childish behavior.

#supernatural #spn lucifer #spn lucifer fanfic #spn lucifer x reader #mark pellegrino #lucifer #supernatural fandom #supernatural family #spn fandom #my writings #spn family #supernatural x y/n #spn fluff

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ivesambrose · 4 years

Text

Mercury Retrograde in scorpio 2020 messages 🤎

🔥 Fire signs (♈ ♌ ♐)

You might feel more serious ™ around this time and might want to get things in order for yourself. So immaturity or smart mouthing of people might strike a nerve with you. You don't have to react to it. You might feel more competitive around this time especially if you have air placements in your chart as well.

Dreams are about to get stranger. If you're more in tune with dreamscapes expect feeling like you've walked into someone's ekse dream or they may have walked into yours. You're going to be needing more rest as well.

Hold onto your manifestions but not the need of it, knowing that it's yours and it'll come. Nothing has slowed down, it'll come on time. Don't fret.

Possessiveness in love. Either you have realized you feel deeply towards someone and you want to connect to them like that but mercury is putting some hindrance in communication in some way or the other but you have a sudden burst of competetiveness fueling everything for you.

You're gonna want to rebel a lot. You're gonna want to say, "fuck you." even more. You're gonna have to rest. I don't see stuff from the past here just sudden burst of a Pterodactyl going reeeeeee!!

🌊 Water signs (♋ ♏ ♓)

Ah yes, realizations. Loud ones. Will it be smooth? Not gonna lie, no it won't. But it will be freeing. Now that you know you no longer have to stay stoic and stupid you no longer have to feel like you're holding yourself back.

Certain wounds may feel fresh again or serve as a reminder as to why exactly you shut someone out of your life or preferred to have your guards up with them. I feel your subconscious is really bubbling up but either you're busy with something in regards to career or finances or school work, you've decided to look like you don't see it, but you're looking directly at it. Just you folks can be really secretive as f.

Some of you may move away from family or current residence or just would like to be away for real. Emotional detachment with family members can be a thing too.

I swear a lot of you will look back at a moment where someone felt like such a nice friend/romantic partner/boss or colleague who seemed so promising and stable to you and then conclude. Wow. Blatant lies. Fake news. Then you'll just look at them different and divert all your focus advancing in your journey. Tbh get them coins.

Also I think a few of you suddenly find yourself drawn to fire dominants? (I'm talking fire cracker) It's like y'all no longer want uwu, y'all want owo. Might just end up with one and have a happy family together later on. Please don't get restless and act up during the retrograde.

🌱 Earth signs (♉ ♍ ♑)

Don't you just love it when patience pays off? Like I know I do wtf is 'patience is a virtue'? I have a backache Linda how long am I supposed to wait? Anyway so, we did the waiting. Things will move towards end of the retrograde. You just calmly sit and focus on your savings and how far you've come. Pour yourself a drink or two because when things speed up I assure you, you'll want the snails pace back at one point.

You're preparing to leave something behind. It had his time, taught you it's lessons, made you feel great, but you cannot stay in that comfort zone anymore. Come on, you know this. It's been a long time coming. You feel unsure of it, because welp Square one? All alone? Yep and that's the best part. Why did you suddenly stunt your growth and exploring? Esp if you have fire placements too (sun or rising)

You go on your merry way, yes some people are gonna be jealous about it but okay who cares now just go, your opportunity is here, you made it out. Be on the look out for messages, epiphanies or ideas (esp from people younger than you) at this time. Don't just overlook it. Take this time to simply brace yourself.

A journey is reaching its end so you can embark on a new one. You did great. But please eat healthy and take rest. You're not being lazy when you do so.

🌬️ Air signs (♊ ♎ ♒)

See, what we're not doing at this time is rushing into things...

I could literally just end this here. I could seriously just wrap it up here. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

Something or some plan or event might not go as planned for you. some of you might be greiving over something from the past or a current home situation. The stability feels fake, what you want is out of that box. But thinking over it is causing you ache. Yeah I know... I know it's hard, alright? Options are several but you don't know which one to choose. You'll find some solace in sleep because your mind keeps on running. So please look after your mental health.

Secrets might just come out. You may not be too pleased about it. I'm feeling this for the moon signs here.

Scorpio season in itself will stick to its archetype of transformation for you. But I see a view of flowers and fruits growing on a once barren land swept by a thunderstorm so that's a very good sign. I'd also say minimize the drinking if you can at this time. Be mindful of the fluids you take in too.

Things will pick up in sagittarius season. Swiftly so. Even your manifestions.

You might have a creative block or two this time as well. Might feel you're lacking skills or something but please that's just *sicko mode note plays* once the retrograde ends, things will start balancing out. For now, hold your horses.

#tarot community #mercury rx #mercury retrograde #Mercury Retrograde in scorpio 2020 #Mercury rx 2020 #Divination community

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hurricanery · 4 years

Text

i get by

A/N: Here’s a little something I wrote combining elements of this prompt, this prompt & a few other prompts sitting in my inbox requesting sleepy Amelink featuring Jo. Please continue to send prompts! I’d like to get a few more out this week. And feedback is always appreciated! Also, can you tell I love incorporating songs into my writing....? If you have songs that remind you of Amelink pls send them my way!!

_______

Oh, baby I get by

(By with a little help from my friends)

_______

“Amelia,” Link’s tired voice breaks through the quiet of the kitchen, making Amelia jump slightly from her standing position, where she’s swaying gently back and forth with Scout in her arms. “What are you doing up?”

Link flips the overhead lights on, illuminating the room, and the both of them squint at the sudden change of brightness. Amelia glances at the clock on the wall. It reads 3am.

“Scout was crying,” she whispers gently, looking down at the newborn's wide eyes and curious expression. “I can’t get him back to sleep….so we’ve just been strolling around the house. Didn’t want to wake you.” She smiles tiredly and looks back up at Link, who still stands in the doorway. Concern takes over his features as he crosses the kitchen towards the pair. He rubs Amelia’s shoulder gently, and looks down at their bright-eyed son. He can’t help the smile that creeps across his face.

“Here, let me take him,” Link reaches, “I’ll put him down and meet you back in bed, ok?” He looks pointedly at Amelia, who only takes a moment to think before reluctantly passing Scout off.

Once her arms are empty, Amelia stands up on her toes to reach and place a chaste kiss to Link’s cheek, smiling at him gratefully. “Deal,” she mumbles. “Meet you back up there.”

_______

When Link re-enters their bedroom 15 minutes later, he’s met with the sight of his girlfriend sound asleep, sprawled across the center of the bed, passed out on top of the covers. He laughs to himself quietly before encroaching on her blissful state.

“Amelia,” he whispers, shaking her arm gently. “Amelia scootch over.”

“Hmmm?” She mumbles sleepily, lifting her head slightly and peering up at Link.

He laughs at her confused expression, starting to lift some of the blankets as he slides in next to her. “Here, get under the covers.”

Amelia seems to shake completely from her reverie, now fully awake. “You got Scout to sleep?” she sighs as she pulls some of the covers over herself and snuggles into Link’s side, head falling onto his chest.

“Yes, indeed,” he replies smugly, reaching to push back some of the hair covering Amelia’s face as she rests against him, then letting his fingers run through it in a repetitive motion.

Amelia’s eyes fall shut again but she speaks quietly into the room. “Scout’s just like me,” she mumbles. “Likes to be awake when the rest of the world is sleeping.”

Link laughs under his breath at this, and Amelia loves the feeling of it in his chest.

“Well I hope Scout is like you, because-”

Link’s words get cut off suddenly by the sound of Scout’s cries over the baby monitor.

“Ugh,” Amelia groans in response, starting to sit up. She swings her legs off the bed and starts to get up.

“No, stay. I’ll get him,” Link assures her, also beginning to climb out of the bed.

“Link,” Amelia stares at him incredulously, moving toward the door. She turns back to him. “It’s my day off tomorrow, not yours. Get some sleep.”

Link collapses back down in the bed. “Fine. But tomorrow night I’m on duty.”

Amelia smiles at this for a moment, before she’s interrupted again by her son’s cries. She turns back toward the doorway as she hears Link mumble sleepily “he’s sooo needy.”

Amelia laughs as she makes her way into the hallway. “Like I said.... He’s just like me.”

_______

Link is surprised the next morning to see Amelia moving about the kitchen making coffee and breakfast. He enters the room fresh out of the shower, dressed for work.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in?” He asks Amelia. “Scout’s still down. Now’s your chance.”

Amelia turns toward him with two cups of coffee in hand, passing one to Link. “Eh, I couldn’t really get back to sleep last night.”

Link raises his eyebrows at this, taking a sip of coffee.

“He was fussy the rest of the night,” Amelia continues. “We ended up down here on the couch. Infomercials are really interesting in the middle of the night, by the way,” she smiles sarcastically, nodding toward the TV.

Link sighs at this, putting down his coffee and gripping Amelia by the shoulders. He studies her expression, noting how truly exhausted she looks. Dark circles and unbrushed hair. Amelia avoids his gaze until he places a finger under her chin, forcing eye contact.

“You need rest,” Link says sternly.

“I’m fine,” Amelia brushes him off, stepping out of his grip. She busies herself by finding a travel mug for Link to pour his coffee into.

“Amelia,” Link says slowly, watching her get his coffee all set.

“Link,” she retorts.

“I’m serious. You should try and get some sleep while the baby’s still down.”

And just on time, Scout’s cries flow through the house, originating from the second floor. Amelia raises her eyebrows at this. She moves toward the stairs, patting Link on the back as she passes him. “Welp, someone’s probably hungry,” she sighs.

Link watches as his girlfriend disappears, calling after her. “Please, try to relax today Amelia!”

He doesn’t get a response. He shrugs on his jacket and grabs his keys. In a last effort before leaving the house, Link grabs his phone and opens up his contact list before dialing a familiar number.

_______

Amelia feels like she’s blinking manually against sleep as she sits up against the cushions of the couch, repositioning her shirt before trying to get Scout to latch on. She’d been having so much trouble feeding Scout lately and it feels even more exhausting when she’s by herself. Without Link’s positive affirmations to encourage her, she feels less motivated than ever.

Three harsh knocks against the front door shock Amelia from her thoughts. She frowns before slowly standing up, placing Scout in the bassinet in the corner and adjusting her shirt, Amelia walks toward the door. Scout immediately begins crying at the loss of contact but Amelia pushes forward.

She unlocks the door and pulls it open, surprised to see Jo Wilson standing before her.

“Jo?” Amelia greets her, bewildered. Jo looks almost the way Amelia feels, she thinks, as she takes in the woman’s appearance. Makeup free, hair unkempt, dark circles under her eyes.

“Hey,” Jo smiles, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The two stand awkwardly. Amelia still blocking the doorway. Scout wailing desperately somewhere behind them.

“Link isn’t here, ya know,” Amelia explains. “He’s at the hospital.”

Jo looks unphased. “I know that,” she states matter-of-factly. “I’m here for you.”

Amelia just frowns at this, completely confused. Jo grows more impatient as Amelia’s uncertainty grows.

“Well, aren’t you going to let me in?”

_______

“Link called you?!” Amelia questions harshly as she busies herself in the living room. Picking up blankets and random toys. Fluffing the pillows on the couch. Jo watches from the opposite corner of the couch, where she’s now sat holding Scout, rolling her eyes at Amelia’s restlessness.

“Mhm,” Jo mumbles, glancing at the baby adoringly. She gently rubs a finger against Scout’s cheek, smiling widely at the baby’s expressiveness. She looks back up just as Amelia begins pulling the vacuum into the room. “Amelia what are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she responds curtly. “I never have time for this,” she nods toward Scout resting peacefully in Jo’s arms, “so thank you.”

“Amelia,” Jo exclaims in disbelief, blinking toward the ceiling and trying not to laugh. “Link sent me here so you could relax, not do all of this!” She gestures with her free hand toward Amelia’s path through the living room. Scout coos slightly at the movement and Jo quickly readjusts, resuming her fingers pattern against the baby's tiny features.

Amelia sighs, truly considering her options right now. She finally collapses into the opposite corner of the couch, smiling at Jo gratefully.

They weren’t that close. Jo and Amelia. But this was one of Link’s best friends. And Link was Amelia’s best friend. So there was commonality here somewhere down the line.

Comfortable silence falls between them and Amelia begins to feel her exhaustion catch up with her again. In an effort to stay awake and not be completely rude to her unexpected guest, Amelia reaches for the remote, clicking on the TV, hoping it will distract her from totally succumbing to sleep.

She settles for a random baking show, and realizes that Jo is completely infatuated with Scout, not paying any mind to the TV anyway. Amelia smiles to herself sleepily as she settles deeper into the cushions, her back against the end of the couch, she pulls her feet up to rest between them.

“He’s just perfect,” Jo mumbles, mesmerized.

“Ha,” Amelia laughs sarcastically. “Only when he lets me sleep through the night.”

Jo turns toward Amelia. Fatigued eyes meeting fatigued eyes. Amelia smiles wearily.

“I’m sorry, Jo,” Amelia murmurs. “About what happened with Alex, I….I never had the chance to tell you that.”

Jo shakes her head, dismissive. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

Amelia frowns slightly.

“Thank you, though,” Jo mumbles. She looks back down at Scout in her arms. “Ah, he fell asleep.”

Amelia blinks, readjusting, “I should probably get him upstairs.”

“I can do it,” Jo pipes up.

And Amelia accepts the help, settling back down onto the couch. She smiles up at Jo appreciatively as Jo stands, turning toward the front staircase.

Amelia only dozes off for a couple of minutes before she’s startled by Jo’s re-entrance. Jo places a baby monitor on the coffee table in front of them before she resumes her position on the opposite end of the couch.

“You can sleep,” Jo laughs. “That’s why I’m here.”

Amelia laughs under her breath. “Mhm, I might.” She closes her eyes but her face doesn’t quite relax. “Ugh, this couch is going to kill my back, but I just can’t bring myself to move upstairs right now,” she mumbles.

Jo giggles at her in disbelief. “Well, you are half-sitting. Here, slide down,” she offers as Amelia adjusts herself to fully lay down on the couch. As Amelia does this, Jo reaches forward to pull Amelia’s feet onto her lap.

Amelia opens her eyes only briefly, peeking at Jo amusedly. Jo squeezes her fuzzy sock-clad feet in response.

“You can sleep,” Jo repeats.

Moments later Amelia’s breathing evens out in a way that can only signify deep sleep. Jo leans her head back against the cushions, looking up at the ceiling. She slowly lets her own eyes shut, too.

_______

Link returns home to an oddly dark and seemingly empty house. He enters through the back door, setting down his keys and coffee mug from the morning, then tossing his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs.

He slowly moves throughout the first floor of the house, entering the dimly lit living room and letting his eyes adjust. The light from the TV illuminates a scene on the couch in front of him that he wasn’t expecting. That of his girlfriend sleeping soundly, feet resting in the lap of his best friend, also sleeping. A smile spreads across Link’s face as he takes in Jo’s grip on Amelia’s feet. He doesn’t realize he is laughing out loud until Jo stirs from her sleep, head lifting up from the cushions as she looks at him bewildered.

“Oh, hey,” she mumbles, voice still laced with exhaustion.

“Hey,” Link laughs.

Jo continues to readjust her position, shifting forward and placing Amelia’s legs down gently behind her.

“We fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” Link agrees, “I’m jealous. You’re kind of in my spot.” He then nods toward Amelia. “Looks like you were a fine replacement, though.”

Jo smiles, and this time around it begins to reach her eyes.

“Scout asleep?”

Jo nods, stifling a yawn. “I’m going to head out. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

Link nods at this, glancing again at his girlfriend, who somehow remains asleep despite the conversation happening around her.

“Thanks for calling me today, Link,” Jo adds, shrugging on her jacket. “I….somehow kinda needed this,” she smiles. “You can call me to come over and hold your baby anytime. I’ll be here.”

Link smiles at her gratefully as she makes her way to the front door. Jo turns around to give a quick wave to Link, before nodding toward Amelia on the couch. “You need me to carry her upstairs, too? Or you got that part?” She questions sarcastically.

“I got that part,” Link laughs.

_______

Amelia wakes with a start as Link places her gently in their bed.

“Huh?” she mumbles, “Link?”

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

Amelia takes a moment to gather herself. “Did Jo leave? Where’s Scout?”

“Jo left. Scout’s still sleeping. You should be too.”

Link climbs into the bed next to her. Amelia turns to him. After another moment she speaks again into the space between them. “Thanks for calling her today. I kinda needed that.”

Link smiles, facing her, tucking a stray chunk of hair behind her ear. “We all need a little bit of help sometimes.”

_______

Gonna get by with my friends

(Try with a little help from my friends)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm gonna try

(Try with a little help from my friends)

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #jo wilson #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelinkfanfiction #my writing #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy

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hongism · 5 years

Note

Could you do 8 and 12 for Jungho? For the prompt list thing?

which categories ;-; welp i did the same thing as the last request and chose the genre & category based off the numbers you sent so i'm sorry if they aren't the ones you wanted but welp

irrelevant gif but he so cute

#8: "But I've never told you that before."

#12: "Why are you awake?”

...

In the Middle of the Night

It's become something of a regular occurrence for you to be up at this hour; however, it normally doesn't happen while you're spending the night with Jongho. Being with him helps keep the nightmares at bay, at least enough to not wake you up in a cold sweat like it does now. The last thing you want to do is disturb him and wake him up as well. Your whole body is shaking from head to toe, though, and even when you curl into a ball to stop it, it continues.

Jongho stirs next to you, a deep sigh passing through his lips, and you feel the mattress dip as he rolls closer to you.

"Why are you awake?" He mutters into your ear when he drapes an arm over your shaking form. If he notices your trembling, he doesn't comment on it, at least not right away.

"I was just going back to sleep," you whisper back, releasing some of the tension in your body.

"That didn't answer my question."

"I just woke up. I'm not sure why. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Jongho's warm breath hits your neck, a sudden break from the cold of the room.

"Don't be sorry. I'm worried about you." You shift in the bed and Jongho's arms so that you can look him in the eye.

"What? Why?"

"This isn't the first time this has happened."

"That I've woken up in the middle of the night?" You struggle to remember another instance in which you woke up like this, or one where you woke Jongho up as well.

"That you've woken up shaking and trembling." Ah, there it is. So he did notice after all. "Or that you've been restless while you are sleeping. I know you have nightmares."

"But I've never told you that before."

"You didn't to tell me for me to know."

"Oh." The single syllable manages to come out breathlessly, and you can merely blink at Jongho through the darkness. "I'm sorry."

"For what? It's not your fault. Not at all."

"I know that, but..."

"But what?"

"You shouldn't have to deal with it too." Jongho's hand slides from your waist to rest on your cheek. He brushes the skin there gently with his thumb.

"I want to because I love you."

"And I don't want you to because I love you. If I woke you up every time I had a nightmare, you would never get any rest. You need the sleep, and I'm not going to take it away from you." Jongho laughs under his breath.

"Well, that would help me understand what you have to go through, so I don't mind at all. Because I love you," he reiterates, a bit firmer in his tone this time. It's a way of telling you that there's no arguing, you can't win this fight, and he's not going to give up no matter what you say.

"I love you too." Part of you wants to argue back and be more firm in your refusal, but you know that at the end of the day, you can't force Jongho to do anything.

"How long have you been having these nightmares?"

"Long enough." You shrug a bit, pushing forward to press your head against Jongho's chest.

"Nothing can stop them?" Jongho drapes his arm over you again, hand resting on your back.

"Nothing that I know of." He starts rubbing small circles against the fabric of your shirt upon hearing your words.

"We'll find something."

"I don't think there is anything that can stop them, Jongho."

"Then we'll have to make something that can."

"You're too determined," you mutter against your boyfriend's shirt. "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me for doing anything."

"You do so much for me though, and you're so so good to me. I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve you. Half the time I don't even feel as though I do deserve you because you're just so good to me."

"You didn't have to do anything, and you never will. I just love you." Before you can stop it, tears well up in your eyes and threaten to spill onto Jongho's shirt. You fight them back as best you can, but a small sniffle manages to break the pause of silence between you. "Are you crying? Please don't cry, baby. What's wrong?"

"Just...I-I've never had someone like you in my life. I'm so grateful and touched and lucky and blessed, I don't know. I'm just happy. You love me better than anyone ever could."

"It's what you deserve, Y/N," he whispers back, lips against your hairline.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Now, let's try to get you back to sleep. And if you wake up from a nightmare again, promise to tell me this time, okay?"

...

a/n: whew it’s strange to be getting so close to being done with reqs really it’s taken me way too long to write all there and get them out yoit but later on in the future i’ll probably do something like this again and open requests again~

thanks for being so patient with me really bc yeehaw i am Slow

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Family

Welp here we go, I’m back with a new installment in my series of whatever this is lol. I took a few days off to totally plan out where and what I wanted to go and do with this story, and now have a basic outline for next six installments and I can’t wait now!

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.1

Nightmares were something that Halley Wilson grew accustomed to over the years but that didn’t mean they didn’t hit any less. They hadn’t been as frequent as when she was younger and still in the care of her father and at the beginning of her time with the Titans. Memories of different jobs she’d been on and sometimes flashbacks of particular rough beatings from her Slade came to her at night less and less.

It’d been a while since she’d woken up in a cold sweat, grasping at her sheets and gapping for breath and then spending the rest of the night trying to calm herself. Last night, she expected this to be the scenario and it had been to a certain extent. She dreamed of being tied up and sliced open by Zsasz. She dreamed of watching him peel of faces of different woman. She dreamed of her father watching her stand there helplessly with a look of disapproval, making no effort in saving her.

She awoke feeling hot but still having goosebumps run down her bare arms. She held her breath in tightly as her knuckles were white from grasping the soft sheets underneath her. The moment her eyes opened, she dreaded the long hours ahead of her as she’d be up until the sun came out, which would be shortly since she’d gone to bed long after midnight.

That hadn’t been the case though as her eyes widened when she felt something shift besides her. Her mind was foggy from exhaustion and the pain killers wearing off. She felt sore, her body almost stinging and pulsating as it healed itself. It took her a few seconds to realize she wasn’t alone and that she had fallen asleep with Jason in her bed last night. She laid on her stomach, one hand resting next to her face as the other hid under her pillow. She moved her head up, looking at the boy who had been sleeping peacefully next to her.

She was amazed that he stood with her. She figured he’d bail once she fell asleep but no, here he was squinting his eyes as they blinked awake. Her moving in her sleep must’ve woken him, she figured. Her eyes trailed down, trying to not stare. He’d been laying on his back, hand resting on his chest as it moved up and down, gently rubbing his chest. He let out a soft snore like gasp as he woke up, giving his head a shake before his own eyes darted to her.

He saw her looking up at him before she looked away, rolling over onto his side to get his own better look at her. He’d always been a light sleeper and couldn’t help but notice movement from the side of him. He’d been in that state of sleep when you were still asleep but aware of everything going on around you and felt the warmth that Halley had brought to him when she fell asleep still curled up next to him leave. He heard slight whimpering but couldn’t find it in himself to wake up just yet, still desperate to get some shut eye. It wasn’t until the whimper turned into a gasp and a slight jolt next to him, did he feel himself waking up.

Rolled over, he placed a hand underneath his own pillow, bringing the blanket up over both of their shoulders with his free one. “You okay?” He asked her, his voice cracking from sleep.

She nodded in reply, too tired to talk. She snuggled herself under the blanket, wincing when she noticed the light creeping in from behind the curtains far across the room. She’d never fall back to sleep now. She wondered what time it was as she looked back up at Jason with big eyes,

“You stayed?” she said, almost sounding like a question. She wouldn’t have normally said that out loud but she blamed her tiredness.

“You asked me to, didn’t you?” Jason chuckled, it rumbling from deep in his chest. He picked up his arm and let it fall over his eyes, now too noticing the crack of light. “Ugh, why don’t you have black out curtains in your room?” He moaned, rolling onto his stomach to cover his face with the pillow. He took a deep breath before realizing what he was doing; the pillow smelt like her, it was nice. He tried playing off his though, keeping his face buried, his voice muffled as he spoke, “Next time we have a sleep over, we’re having it in my room where we can sleep in until noon in the dark.”

“Next time?” Halley smirked, rolling over onto her back so she could reach her phone left on the nightstand. Tapping the screen, it came to life, showing that it was almost 7am.

Jason cocked an eyebrow not realizing what he’d implied. He peeked out from the pillow to watch as she began to scroll through her phone, seeing a bunch of notifications. He rolled his eyes, since when was she so popular? He found himself outreaching his hand and playful smacking the phone out of her hands, smirking when she glared up at him. She quickly picked up the phone, shooting him another glare before continuing typing her message. He repeated his actions, grinning when she elbowed him in the chest.

“What’s your problem?” She gapped, clenching her phone tightly, “it’s too early for this.”

“It’s too early for you to be on your phone,” He countered, reaching over and snatching it out of her grasp when he saw her grip loosen. He didn’t reply when she cried out for him to give it back as he started to look at her messages. He rolled back onto his back, placing his arm under his head, almost using it as a barrier to prevent her from taking the device back. “What’s Grayson want this early in the morning, he’s blowing up your phone.”

“Alfred told him about-, about last night, I guess.” Halley’s voice shied off. She’d been outreaching her hand to grab it back but felt herself grow weak at the thought of last night. She’d woken up because of a dream about it. The smell of the room, the woman’s cries, the feeling of Zsasz’s hands on her body-

Jason let the hand holding the phone drop down to rest on his chest. He looked down at her, seeing her face frozen with the same look she wore last night. He let out a sigh, feeling her anxiety seeping out of her. They’d only gotten about three hours of sleep last night and it shown on their faces. It’d taken them a while to fall asleep last night, even though they hadn’t talked much after he agreed to stay the night. They had both been restless and anxious, not letting their hold on the other go until they both knocked out from fatigue. And even then they didn’t stop holding on until Halley started moving around in her sleep.

He could see that she was in pain, her skin around the long cuts were red and irritated. They looked ten times better than they did before but that still wasn’t saying much. Her healing factor had been the only reason why they looked the way they did now and the only reason why she was even alive-,

He ruffled his hair with the hand he let rest underneath his head, moving it to rub his eyes and get the sleep away. Letting out a loud yawn, he sat himself up, shaking his head as he did. It was Saturday, why was he up this early? Eyeing down at the girl, he pushed the blanket off of him, slowly getting out of bed. He stretched his muscles, before speaking, “Come on let’s go,”

“Go where?” She questioned, sitting up slowly.

“I’m hungry, you should eat too, so food.” He shrugged moving across the room.

She nodded, feeling her stomach was also hungry. She moved her feet so they were touching the cold floor and shivered. Standing, she felt a little woozy at first, but quickly got over it. Before meeting Jason at her door, she walked to the lounge chair off to the far right corner near her window and picked up one of her many sweaters. She grabbed a plain black zip up, not wanting to test her aching muscles and lift up her arms to put it on.

The pair then made their way through the halls, noting how quiet it was. Bruce was probably asleep still, whereas Alfred was usually up by now but they saw no sign of the butler as they entered the kitchen. Halley would have gone for Alfred’s cooking but would settle on cereal, not wanting to bug the man if he was still sleeping or busy. Jason stopped her though, swatting her hand away when she reached for the cabinet holding the cereal. She eyed him in annoyance and confusion.

“Go sit down,” he said, nodding towards the breakfast island.

“Excuse you?” She asked, popping her hip out.

He eyes it, stopping himself from biting his lip before reaching over her and pulling out the loaf of bread that sat on the counter. Going over to the stove he reached for a pan and nodded to the island again, “I’m making us breakfast, now go sit down.”

Halley looked at him bewildered as he started grabbing different items in the kitchen and gathering them on the counter next to the stove. She didn’t say anything else, sitting down on a stool and watched him. She didn’t know he knew how to cook. She’d been pretty sure none of the men of Wayne Manor besides Alfred knew how to. She’d never seen Bruce in the kitchen and she tried Dick’s cooking once, if that’s what you wanted to call cooking. Halley wasn’t one to talk either though, she didn’t know the first thing to cooking either but she assumed Jason was the same.

It took about fifteen minutes but before she knew it Jason was placing a plate of French toast in front of her with a cup of coffee. She looked up at him curiously, unsure how safe the food was. This was Jason, after all. He saw her look and rolled his eyes, grabbing his own plate and cup, and sitting next to her. He scoffed, “Shut up and eat,”

So she did, cutting a piece and stabbing it with her fork. Taking it in her mouth, she chewed and felt herself hum. This was actually really good. Jason looked spiteful at her reaction, knowing she doubted his skills. Satisfied, he began to chow down on his own plate, the taste hitting every sweet spot.

After they finished eating, Halley insisted on helping cleaning up but he shooed her away again, saying that she was injured and he got it. It didn’t take long, mostly rinsing everything off and putting it in the dishwasher. She watched him the entire time, leaning her back against one of the counter. She’d seen sides of Jason no one else had before but this was completely different.

When he finished, she let him lead her off to the library. Halley was hesitant to enter, never really using the room unless it was go get downstairs to the Batcave. She knew Jason often frequented the large room, surprised when she originally found out that he loved to read. She’d caught him in here once one night a couple of months ago. He was forced to stay home from patrol, not from being in trouble but due to being sick. She was just coming home and saw him curled up in one of the big plush chairs that littered the room with some Jane Austen book.

She remembered him trying to claim it was for school but she knew he was lying since they had the same English class after all and she’d also seen a couple of classic novels stacked on his desk in his bedroom. She didn’t tease him for it; she thought it was admirable and said a lot about him; he wasn’t just the rough edges that he showed.

She couldn’t help but stare up in wonder at the tall bookcases filled to the brim with books, old and new, all different genres. Bruce had an amazing collection and even she could see that. She wanted to know what each book contained but knew she’d never finish any material she started. She didn’t have the patience to read the giant, thick books he did. She’d get bored within the first few pages, as her mind would start traveling off to other places. She tried reading comics once, figuring they were a whole lot shorter and also had pictures. She burrowed some that Wall had, having a stash of them and had no problem helping the curious girl. She liked the art but compared to real life superheroes and super-villains, she just couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the stories within the pages.

“I usually come here to blow off steam,” Jason’s voice cut through her, causing her to look down from her sightseeing and go back to following him to a far off corner. She noted a long red couch with a couple of arm chairs near it and a coffee table in the center, a fire place on the wall in front of the sitting area. Jason moved towards the fire place, setting it up.

“You know, after a rough night?” He continued, grabbing the match that sat on the mantle place to get a fire going. “It’s quiet, Bruce usually never comes down this early and even if he does he never realizes anyone’s in here” Jason said, knowing how Bruce would just beeline to the Batcave.

Once the fire was lite, he rubbed his hands together near it, feeling the heat and taking it in. He stood back up from his crouching position and moved to the desk nearby where he kept his personal stash of books he was reading. Pulling out his current book he was in the middle of, he scanned the rest, trying to think of something Halley would like. She caught onto what he was doing and stopped him,

“I don’t really read.” She said timidly, grasping her hands together bashfully. Jason cocked an eyebrow up at her, almost amused. He placed the book down he had selected, asking her what kind of stuff she liked. She shrugged, “I don’t know, I’ve never finished a book all the way through. I get bored and stop. I couldn’t even tell you the names of the books I’ve tried reading, that’s how much I barely paid attention to them.”

“Well that’s lame,” He chuckled, thinking of a plan b; he would get her to finish a book. He didn’t know why, but he would make that his new mission.

Thinking of an idea he tapped a finger to his chin, his eyes scanned around the area. He felt a light bulb click as he made his way to a specific shelf. He quickly saw the two titles he was looking for jump out at him and debated which one would be the best fit. The first, being his favorite and first book he finished reading here was due for a reread but for what he had planned might not work. He enjoyed the book but it’d probably lose her within the first few chapters.

He pulled out his second choice, another personal favorite, being the first series he ever finished. He finished it quickly since they were technically children’s books and Jason was a quick reader. He enjoyed the series, maybe not as much as his first choice but it would properly be the best bet to get Halley into reading.

Giving his favorite book one more look, officially deciding on the one in his hands, he decided on Harry Potter over Lord of the Rings. He gave the book in his hand a shake, as if giving it luck in hitting it off with the former assassin. Walking back to where the girl stood he set down in front of the fire. He leaned against the coffee table, stretching his legs outwards, feeling the fire warm up his bare feet.

Looking up at the girl, he patted the spot he left open in between his outstretched legs. The girl blushed, unsure what he was up to and gave him a questioning look. He rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back, “Come on we’re going to read Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter?” She remembered the movies, having seen one of them before. She wasn’t sure which one but she remembered thinking it was okay. “Aren’t those movies?”

“Based on books.” Jason nodded, raising the book up for her to see. “The books are better, but that’s what anybody says about anything adapted from book to movie. It’s usually true but whatever, that’s bedside’s the point. I promise you that you will like this one, now come over here.”

Halley didn’t know why she did but she listened to him. She didn’t sit in between his legs though, sitting next to him instead. He rolled his eyes at her again, putting the book on the floor next to him on the side that she wasn’t sitting on. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to where he wanted her to sit. She protested, trying to squirm away but he plopped her down and rested his chin on her shoulder, locking a hand around her waist and grabbing for the book again.

She felt heat raise to her cheeks as he put the book out in front of them, resting his elbows on her thighs as he opened to page one. She wanted to protest again but felt herself motionless as she felt his chest against her back and his breath on her neck as he started to read. She felt even hotter when he started reading word for word, surprising her to her core that he was actually reading a book to her.

His voice was smooth, flowing over the words. He flipped the page, and then the next and the next, seamlessly making her pay attention and have an interest. She found herself just wanting to hear him talk, the whole action of him wanting to read to her making her want to listen. She didn’t find herself bored at all, instead quite the opposite. She relaxed a bit, feeling not as stiff as she leaned back into him. She almost stopped herself when he wavered on the next word but when he simply moved his head to rest on top of hers and almost pull her closer to him, she didn’t; in fact she sunk deeper against him, totally forgetting about everything else going on outside from their little corner.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #Dick Grayson x batsis #batfam x batsis #jason todd x batsis #batman fanfiction #batbros #dc comics fanfic #deathstroke daughter

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ilitalksspooks · 3 years

Text

The closet

I try to not over think things like..."Hey did I just saw that?" "Hey... what was that?" "Welp that was weird..."

Most of my experiences I try not to fester too much on the moment because if I do i wouldn't be able to sleep ever. But I remember the first time I started to be truly scared of something... and that was my closet on my old room.

My house wasn't at ALL an old house, it wasn't a previously owned house... it was a new built home in a new development. We used to live in a smaller more cozy house but my father decided we needed to upgrade so he found a bigger better place and so me and my brother could have our own rooms and our own privacy.

Back then my closet was wide, it had some of those two set of see through doors, they could close with a click and i could even put my drawing stuff and bed covers on one of my sides.

The first years was ok, nothing of note... till one day, my brother told me, one night he was sleeping in the room and he heard voices. He thought it was me, that i talked while I slept... i did had a very severe sleep walking time but he said that after a few time he heard the voices coming from the closet, he slept in the bed closer to it. After that he started asking for his own room...

I was in high school when I started having the worse times.

One night i was dreaming that something called me in the closet, a voice wanted me to get in because it felt alone and it was dark. For days I had that dream in a recurring state, sometimes i would sleep and wake up in another room. We had a TV room that had a really big sofa... I would wake up in that room daily, without me knowing when i did it... but it was nights that I heard that voice.

The worse was one night, in very late hours at night I heard laughs very clear coming from it... i even got up, i could still hear the echo of it ringing in the room. I forced myself to sleep, and in that nights dream I felt hands holding me tight from my arms and suddenly pulling me in to the open closet, the open closet was dark and i could hear screams and voices from it while several long arms and hands held me and pulled me in. I was screaming in terror while i held from the doors trying not to fall in to the void... when I got to wake up, i could see for a glimpse a hand over my blanket and sliding slowly down my bed...

After that event, every night i tied the doors shut with a red ribbon. There was mornings that i woke up from a restless night and in the morning I would find my doors untied and semi open.

My parents one day thought that the doors didn't work and took them off, I cleaned that closet from anything I thought it was attracting any bad energy to that spot... I did find a black stain on the top of it, we tried to give it a reasoning behind it... maybe water from the ceiling. But nothing really showed outside...

Things calmed down after that... then my brother started complaining about things on his room.

But that's a story for another night...

#spooky #horror #paranormal #mistery #experience #ghost #spook #haunted #horror stories #scary

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universal-vibe · 4 years

Text

My Healer

Getting to Know You

Warnings: a think a swear, lack a proof read

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: - :･ﾟ✧

To say that the first few days of resting and healing were slow to Geralt would be an understatement. He had to sit through Jaskier’s fiddling around with stings on his lute while coming up with his next ballad. He had to make (Y/N) feed him for two nights in a row in almost awkward silence was more than degrading.

It was the start to the fourth day and Geralt had about enough. He flung the covers off his body to see the cloth bandage wrapped around his torso. He began to slowly sit up. His body felt sore but enough strength to get himself around. Geralt stood up and started to slowly stalk over to wear the side stables were in the house. He had heard some shuffling and a distant voice so he made his way over.

You were tending to your horse, Spyrum (pronounced Spy-Rum), as well as the horse you know as Roach that followed his owner here. Roach winnied and stomped her hoof down, seemingly looking past you. You turned to see the witcher standing at the door frame. You just gave a smile, “I’m glad to see you up and moving. Seems my work was not in vain.”

Geralt tilted his head, a low ‘hmm’ leaving his throat. “You knew I was going to be fine by now, didn’t you.” He said it as more of a statement than a question.

“I extended the time. Wanted to make sure you stayed in bed healing as long as you could handle. Your type is always so restless,” a smirk graces your lip before turning back to Spyrum, petting his muzzle.

Geralt looked slightly shocked. Have you seen other witchers before? Witchers from his home? “And what is my type?” looking at the back of your head expectantly.

“Hunters. Warriors. Fighters. They are all the same,” turning back to look at him, the smile having not left your face, “always itching to get moving and back into the fray.” You pat your horse goodbye as you walk towards Geralt and the door. “Now how about I draw you a bath. I cleaned all I could but you were lying down, unconscious, and you aren’t a light man.” A giggle leaves your mouth as you look up at him. It takes Geralt a moment to register your words. He’s not used to such hospitality from strangers but then nods. You flash him another smile as he moves aside to let you in. Geralt watches you walk into the room with the bath while his mind wanders. He doesn’t sense any bad intent. He couldn’t even smell fear on you. All he could smell was a calming scent of apples and lavender. You certainly have Geralt’s attention and curiosity now.

Days started to pass as Geralt recovered. Jaskier telling stories of adventures he had with Geralt while the witcher tried to correct the bard he was shut down by the other man. You were enjoying it, laughing at some stories like the story of how the two met, how the time Geralt was covered in Silkiemaw guts and the story about he was attacked by a djinn. You, telling your own stories. Geralt also helping you with feeding and brushing your horses.

That late afternoon you are starting to cook again for the boys. Geralt had walked in, now in his usual casual clothes. He wound now only becoming a pink scar on his side. He walks over to the table in the middle of the room and sits down. Jaskier is sitting a seat away from his witcher friend. There is a long pause before you look over your shoulder at white-haired man. His golden feline eyes focused on your own (e/c). You can almost hear his thoughts from across the room so you give him a simple before turning back around towards the meat you were cooking.

“Is there something you want to ask me? I can practically hear your thoughts from here.” Your teasing tone reaches Geralt and he actually gives a small smile. He has noticed these couple days that you are quite perceptive and sometimes blunt.

“What do you do? As much it might seem like this is your house the strong scent of others suggest otherwise.”

You smile to yourself. You should have known that a witcher could pick up such scents. You simply replied back, “I’m a traveling healer. I go from town to town, helping those in need and giving the poorer people some proper attention.” You begin to set down the plates of meat in front of the men. Jaskier gave a hearty ‘thank you’ before digging, watching the exchange in front of him while Geralt just gave a nod of gratitude. You sat across the two men, continuing your story. “This house, however, is actually owned by a weather family. They have a few homes scattered across the continent that they allow me to stay in.”

“What did you do? Save their child?” Jaskier asks with a full mouth.

You let out a chuckle, “actually it was the mother. Saved her from dying while she gave birth.” A fond smile crosses your face as you look at the home around you, chewing your food. “Luckily I was in town. They were very generous people. I have them to thank for some nights not spending my coin on Taverns. Healing doesn’t come with good pay all the time.” You shake your head from the thoughts before looking between both men, “I was actually planning on leaving as soon as our witcher heals and is well enough to fight.”

Jaskier smiles, standing up, “well I think I have had enough of singing and wooing hearts so I will retire for the night.” He turns and does a small bow towards you, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Pleasant dreams, Jaskier.”

Then passing Geralt with a pat on the broader man’s shoulders. “Night, Geralt.”

Geralt gives a gruff ‘hmm’ as you both watch the bard retire to his bedchamber. He then hears you heave a sigh before grabbing all the finished plates and start to scrub them clean. Geralt keeps his eyes on you, examining your movements. Geralt having a thought invades his mind like it always had for the past week and a half. “You know who I am, don’t you.” You turn to see the man staring at you with what seemed to be a scowl etched into his face. You just give him a nod in response. “Then why haven’t you said anything about the ‘White Wolf’ ‘The Butcher of Blaviken’ in your home?”

Fully turning your body towards him as you lean against to counter behind you. “For two reasons actually.” “One. With my experience and a few black eyes along the way-” chuckling the last part out in amusement as Geralt smirked. “-I know that waking up to a stranger who knows your name isn’t the comfiest feeling to wake up to.” You looked at the witcher in front of you then you began your second point. “And two. Fame isn’t always welcomed or wanted and from what I see is that you didn’t choose whether to be famous or not.” Your tone turned more serious as the two of you stared at each other.

You could only imagine all the things that have been said to and being talked about to this man sitting in your home. “My job as a healer is to help and ease my patients, if that means giving them space and letting them relax then so shall it be.” You pushed yourself off the counter as you stretched, “Welp. I’m going to sleep for the night.” You walked to his side, “you should rest too. I think you have one more day till you’re fully recovered.” You pat Geralt’s shoulder before heading to your room not before turning back to look at him. “Goodnight, Geralt.” Your voice was now soft as you gave him a genuine smile.

Geralt nodded, “Goodnight, (y/n).” Geralt soon went to his own room as he watched you leave for the night. The thought of leaving without you made something in him sink, you were patient with him. Though at times you were poking a prodding but it was only for his well being. He was going to sleep on these feelings and hope tomorrow they will either leave or have figured themselves.

The morning came and Geralt was already up, dressed and packed, waiting for Jaskier to get ready. He could smell you before you walked into the room. Your comfy attire changed to more travel like clothes. Brown leather boots, a cream colored long sleeve with a leather vest over top. A belt to hold all your remedies and supplies. You saw Geralt and your eyes lit up as you smiled towards the white-haired. “Well good morning, Geralt. I see you slept well?” The man just hums in response but it was enough for you as you started to pack up the things you needed to get on your way.

The morning was comfortably silent as you both basked in the last of each other’s presence. Jaskier then came out of his room with vigor as he shouted a good morning to what seemed to be the world. Geralt groaned and you laughed at the witcher as you finished packing everything. “And good morning to you too, Jaskier.” A tease in your tone which the bard smiled at but his smile became melancholy as the three of you made it outside with the horses.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough for your wonderful service. Here is payment for your service.” Jaskier went to hand you some coins but you pushed it back towards him as you shook your head.

“I need no payment. Both of your companies have been brilliant and can ask for nothing greater.” Geralt raised an eyebrow at you as Jaskier dropped his jaw but before he could speak you continued, “Save that coin for the next time you need to heal him. I have no doubt he gets himself in a heap of trouble already.” picking yourself up over Spyrum you gave both men a smile, “now take care. I hope to see you again, this time unharmed.” A laugh is what you left as you slowly started to trot away.

Geralt starred as you started to leave before he dropped his head. “Fuck,” he muttered before her jumped on Roach and trotted to ride beside you. Jaskier shouting to his friend in the background. You looked at Geralt, at the golden feline eyes that stared at you back. “We don’t you stay with us?” You stopped your horse in shock as Geralt stopped as well. He looked at you expectantly. “You said it yourself, I get in plenty of trouble as it is. Why not come with?”

At this point Jaskier has made it to you both. Hearing the last bit of the conversation. “Geralt is certainly right. I am actually quite tired of stitching his wounds at this point plus we loved your company more than enough.”

Your surprised face grew into a smile, hearing the words of the two men you have grown close with. “I would love to.”

Jaskier cheered while Geralt gave a satisfied grunt. “Now Geralt, being the wonderfully agitated type, doesn’t let me ride Roach so may I perhaps join you?” Jaskier questions with a small plea and happily obliged as the bard soon climbed behind you as the three of you rode off to the next town.

The adventure had only begun.

#geralt of rivia x reader geralt x reader x reader the witcher fanfic fanfic

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aquietwritingcorner · 4 years

Text

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner/scentedbygunpowder Word Count: 7,561 Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2020 Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: Part III of 5 Summary: Post-PD. A drive to look for more of Berthold Hawkeye’s research sends Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, and Jean Havoc back to Hawkeye’s childhood home. But although the years have faded the wounds of Hawkeye’s heart, the embers still exist. This trip, ordered by Mustang, threatens to flame them back to life. With Hawkeye and Mustang at odds with each other, and an unknown but heavy history hanging overhead, Havoc isn’t sure what this research mission will mean to the future of his commanding officers.

Prologue || Part I || Part II || Part III || Epilogue AO3 || ff.net

___________________________________________________________

Part III

By the time they came back downstairs, the sun had long since set. Havoc let Hawkeye go in first, seeing as she knew the best way back through her window, and he followed suit, closing it while she sat the rabbit back on the bed. The two made their way downstairs, Hawkeye somewhat subdued, but with all that tension that she had been carrying gone. An exhaustion was growing in its place, but it Havoc was honestly glad to see that the tension had left her. Hopefully, with that gone she would be more receptive to Mustang’s gestures towards her.

Leaving the second floor, they made their way to the kitchen, where, to Havoc’s amusement, Mustang was trying to cook. Several badly chopped vegetables were on the table, and he was cursing lightly as he tried to do something to some sort of burning vegetables in a pan. In the sink a pot sat, smoking, with something still popping and bubbling in it.

“Ah!” Mustang jerked his hand away, shaking it out for a second as something popped him, before trying to scrape the vegetables off the bottom of the pan again.

The softest exhalation came from Hawkeye, almost a laugh, and Havoc felt something in his heart ease at that. If she was still mad at Mustang, she would have been irritated, not almost laughing. She walked over to him and nudged him aside.

“Let me have that. You know you can’t cook.”

“Hawkeye!” Mustang looked over at her, surprised, but let her push him to the side. “I—” he looked at her, uncertainty on his face for a moment. Havoc couldn’t see Hawkeye’s face, but something in it must have reassured Mustang, because his uncertainty faded. “I was just trying to make supper for us.”

Havoc peered at a strange lump on the table, some sort of runny, mushy thing with a lot of flour around it. “What were you trying to make?” he asked. “This looks more like something to make us all sick.”

Mustang whirled on him. “Sh-shut up! I was trying to make some dough, okay? But it didn’t turn out right!”

“What were you making dough for?” Havoc asked.

Mustang mumbled something under his breath before going over to the sink. He grimaced at the pot in it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Havoc pushed.

“I said that I was trying to make a pot pie, alright!” He crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault that the cookbooks aren’t clear.”

Havoc blinked at him in surprise. “How can you do all that alchemy, but you can’t follow the recipe in a cookbook?”

“You were trying to make pot pie?” Hawkeye said, glancing back at Mustang.

“Y-yeah.” Mustang seemed a little embarrassed, and Havoc got the feeling that he was missing something again.

“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“Well, I know you like it,” Mustang said, clearly a little uncomfortable.

“I do,” she said. “But next time, just lay out the ingredients for me.”

Havoc was watching them, as they seemed to dance around each other, Mustang trying to figure out what to do now, and Hawkeye obviously tired from earlier. Looked like things were up to him again.

“Welp,” he said, straightening up and speaking loudly. “Seems to me that you’re no cook, General. And Hawkeye, you need to go warm up after being out on the roof.” Not that it was cold, but an excuse was an excuse. “So why don’t you leave supper tonight to me. I can’t do much, but my mama taught me a few dishes. Why don’t you two go see if that radio works if you want something to do. I’m tired of it being so quiet in here.”

“No, I won’t leave you to take care of this mess alone,” Hawkeye said.

“And I should clean up. I can do that much,” Mustang said with a grimace.

“Nuh-uh,” Havoc said. “Look, Hawk’s been doing pretty much all of the cooking since we got here—and I understand why you haven’t General. Let me give you a chance to wow you with a Havoc family recipe or two. It’s about time I took a turn.”

He knew that both of them were incredibly stubborn people, but he also knew that it would do them some good to just rest with each other. They must have been tired, because after a few seconds of a staring contest, they gave in.

“Alright,” Mustang said. “We’ll leave it to you tonight.”

“I’ll call ya when it’s ready,” Havoc promised.

He watched them walk out, watched as Mustang subtly moved a little closer to Hawkeye, and she leaned into it. He saw some of the tension leave Mustang’s shoulders, and his hand move a little closer to Hawkeye’s, brushing against hers to give her hand a squeeze and saw her return it.

Good. Maybe they’d work some things out.

Havoc turned back to the kitchen and grimaced. It was a mess, and he had his work cut out for him.

How had Mustang even done that to that pot?

Still, it was a good idea to give the two of them some time alone, Havoc thought. Now that Hawkeye had basically had a breakdown on him—not something he ever thought he would see—the two could, he thought, begin to come together once more.

He listened for them as he chopped the vegetables for his ma’s famous pot pie—he did have all the spices he needed, didn’t he?—and smiled to himself as he heard their quiet voices. Not twenty minutes into cooking he heard them try to make the radio work, Mustang saying something about needing Fuery, and Hawkeye shooting back with a tired laugh that it would still be a miracle. There was a lot of static, but they eventually found a radio station with decent reception and good music. It drowned out most of their conversation, but Havoc didn’t mind. Let them have their privacy. He had cooking to do.

He only looked in on them once, when he heard odd movement, and he peeked into the sitting room. He quickly left before either of them saw him, but the sight of Mustang and Hawkeye dancing closely with each other bolstered him through the rest of his food preparation. They would be alright now. He was certain of it.

About an hour later he had decent meal laid out and had cleaned up after himself—except for that pot, which he wasn’t sure would ever be the same again. Even though he didn’t want to interrupt them, Havoc did call for Hawkeye and Mustang to eat. Supper was, for once, a much lighter affair, although it was clear that the evening’s events had worn on all of them. Still, Hawkeye and Mustang sat near each other, and Hawkeye didn’t shy away from the small gestures that Mustang made towards her. It relieved Havoc, honestly. If she was receptive to even the small things, then it seemed that the two of them were on the mend.

Bedtime came early that night, all of them tired from the day’s events, and they wearily made their way upstairs and into their respective rooms. Havoc laid in bed, staring at the ceiling again, ignoring Betsy the dress form in the corner, and listening to the house. The house itself was creaky, old, and not even Mustang’s alchemic changes could change the sound of a house settling on its foundations. The house wasn’t what was keeping him awake, though.

Havoc could hear Riza in the next room, restless, and wondered if he ought to go check on her. It had been a rough night for her, and he worried. He had just about decided to get up when his ears perked at the sound of someone else up and moving around. From the direction of it, he guessed that Mustang had come out of his room. As he listened, he heard the footsteps move down the hallway and then stop, about where he guessed Hawkeye’s door was. There was a slight knock, and then he heard Mustang’s voice, too low for Havoc to understand. Apparently, Hawkeye could understand him, though, and she answered him. Havoc heard the movement of her getting up, and then a door being unlocked and opened. For a moment, he didn’t hear much, and then there was a murmur of voices again, talking. After a moment, Havoc heard movement again, but this time both of them towards the bed, where they seemed to settle.

Havoc rolled over in his bed, a smile on his lips. It seemed that those two would be alright now. He still didn’t have all of the puzzle pieces to them or to what, exactly, had happened between them, but Havoc didn’t need them. As long as Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were alright, all was right with the world. And if all was right with the world, then that meant that Havoc could sleep.

The next day dawned bright and early, as per the norm, and Havoc rolled out of bed, started the coffee, and went to check on the horses. However, when he got back, Hawkeye wasn’t up and cooking breakfast. Havoc shrugged, figuring that the two were still with each other, and got to work, cooking up some pancakes and such for them. It was at about the time that Mustang usually came downstairs that both he and Hawkeye came down the stairs together.

“Mornin’,” Havoc drawled. “Look at you two coming down together.”

“Shut up, Jean, it wasn’t anything like that,” Roy muttered.

Hawkeye was making her way straight to the coffee. “Careful,” she said, obviously tired. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. I’m more liable to shoot.”

“Yes ma’am,” Havoc said with a chuckle. Even though he had drifted off to sleep, it seemed like the two of them had finally had their late-night talk and gotten things worked out. Good. It had been long overdue. Maybe they would be back to normal now.

Hawkeye helped him finish breakfast, no one wanting Mustang anywhere near the cooking after the disaster with the poor ruined pot. It was still soaking in the sink, and still, to Havoc’s eye, seemed slightly toxic. Hawkeye seemed to be eyeing it as if she thought she could clean it, but Havoc thought the poor thing was a gonner.

It didn’t take long for Havoc and Hawkeye to finish cooking, and the three of them sat together a bit more companionably to eat then they had on previous mornings. It was easy enough that Havoc almost didn’t want to bring up the work they needed to do today. He’d honestly rather have everyone rest. It had to be done sooner or later, though, and both Mustang and Hawkeye were workaholics. One of them would mention getting to work eventually.

“So… are we going to finish the basement today?” Havoc watched as Hawkeye instantly stilled, pulled in a quiet breath and pursed her lips.

Mustang moved his hand next to hers and shook his head. “No. I finished it up yesterday,” he said. He glanced at Hawkeye. “I figured it was for the best.”

Hawkeye seemed to relax a bit, but not a lot at Mustang’s words. Havoc had to wonder just what it was about that basement that kept both Hawkeye and Mustang so squirrely about it. It was more than a little odd, and just one more part of the puzzle. But it also wasn’t really his business, was it?

“Alright,” he said, putting those thoughts to the side for the moment. “Then what’s the plan for today?”

“The outbuildings,” Mustang said. “I think we should be able to get to most of them today.”

Havoc glanced outside. “It’s shaping up to be warm. We should get started soon.”

Mustang looked out as well and sighed. “Alright. Then let’s get this cleaned up and get to work.”

As far as Havoc was concerned, there were only three good things about working outside that day. The first was that there weren’t any animals around, aside from the horses, so they didn’t have to worry about stepping in any muck as they worked around the various outbuildings. It would have been a lot more difficult if they were worrying about stepping in manure.

They started with the barn, the biggest of the structures. There really wasn’t much to the lower level, and most of the work was left to Mustang and his ability to transmute, although truthfully there wasn’t much to that either. Most of the wood in the barn was exactly what it seemed do be, although Mustang checked anyway, just to be thorough.

While he worked on that, Havoc and Hawkeye checked out the loft. Here, Havoc was introduced to the second good thing of the day: the stories that he learned.

Hawkeye was a surprisingly good storyteller, and she regaled Havoc with the misadventures of a young city-boy Mustang as they worked. Although there was some old equipment and such, it was easy work. Most of what they went through were items Hawkeye herself had put in the loft, saying that sometimes she spent nights up there when she was a girl. Havoc didn’t ask why, but he did enjoy her stories, and just let her talk as she felt like it.

Havoc got to hear of the time Mustang got kicked by Hawkeye’s goat, and when the goat had eaten part of a handkerchief that had belonged to her mother and Roy had managed to restore it with alchemy. He’d never forget the visual she described of Mustang hanging by his ankle on a rope while the goat tried to eat his hair. She had, apparently, just laughed at him for a full three minutes before she pulled the goat away.

He knew there was a reason he liked Riza Hawkeye.

The barn, however, like everything else so far, was a bust. There had been a few alchemy circles discovered, but Hawkeye and Mustang both seemed to know about them, if the somewhat amused glances they gave each other meant anything. It raised Havoc’s eyebrows, and he found himself wondering just what kind of mischief the two of them had gotten up to as kids.

When the barn was finished, they moved on to the shed. It had, to Havoc’s mind, a disturbing amount of chemicals and compounds stored in it. Some of them seemed to be quite old, and Havoc found himself more then a little concerned about what might happen if those bottles were opened. Neither Mustang nor Hawkeye seemed to be concerned, though, which Havoc found a bit, well, concerning.

Hawkeye, apparently, had a greater than average knowledge on chemicals. She was able to identify a few of the containers by looking at them and smelling them, which Havoc found a bit impressive. She also seemed to know a great deal about what mixing certain chemicals together would do, and Havoc eyed her warily when she seemed thrilled to find a few particular ones in the shed. She deemed them “useful” and collected some to take back home with her. Havoc deemed them “dangerous” but he supposed if anyone knew what they were doing, it would be Hawkeye. He just hoped that the chemicals didn’t cause a problem on the train.

Still, the shed gave them no clues, and they broke for lunch, Hawkeye taking a few more of the chemicals into the house with them. Lunch didn’t take long, as they just ate some of the leftovers from the night before. Mustang doled out their portions while Havoc worked on stoking the fire in the stove to heat them up. Hawkeye was busy doing something with the bottles of chemicals and that pot that Mustang had ruined, but Havoc, although curious, didn’t ask what. It wasn’t long before they were all sitting down, listening to the radio and eating leftover potpie. Havoc couldn’t help but notice that Hawkeye’s portion was a little bigger than his and Mustang’s, but he kept that to himself. If Mustang wanted to give Hawkeye more of her favorite meal, he wasn’t going to complain.

It was on to the chicken coop after lunch. With the way that it was falling in, Havoc held out little hope for it. He was not disappointed. He did get some amusing stories of Mustang being chased by chickens and some touching ones of Hawkeye raising little baby chicks, which made the search more fun, at least. Of course, watching Mustang get caught up in the chicken wire had been pretty funny too. As Hawkeye laughed at him before beginning to help him out of the rusted wire, scolding Mustang as she did, Havoc couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting a glimpse of what their childhood with each other had been like.

Havoc wasn’t sure if the day was hotter than the others had been, or if it was just that they were outside and not in the cool of the house, but it certainly felt like a scorcher. He abandoned his usual shirt early on, only keeping on his undershirt. Mustang did likewise. Havoc honestly had no idea how Hawkeye kept working in her short-sleeved black turtleneck. He knew she was sweating through, and she had to have something lighter. If nothing else, he’d lend her an undershirt. But he already knew that was fruitless. She had refused that even when they were rebuilding Ishval, and he had never figured out why.

They took a break before moving on to the gazebo, stopping to get water at the well. That was when Havoc discovered the third good thing about working outside today: the well water. The water from it was cool and fresh, with a sweetness to it Havoc hadn’t found in any city water anywhere.

“You should bottle and sell this stuff, Riza,” he said. “You’d make a fortune.”

“It is the best water I’ve ever tasted,” Mustang agreed. “When I first got here, I couldn’t believe that water could taste this good.”

“That’s because you grew up on the city water,” Hawkeye said. “I couldn’t believe anyone could call that water when I first tasted it. It tasted like some had decided to dissolve a bunch of foul-tasting vitamin pills in it and convinced you it was good.”

“…They do try to fortify the water,” Mustang admitted.

“I’ll take this and good food over fortified water any day,” Havoc declared.

“Why didn’t you try to sell any?” Mustang asked her, clearly curious. “You sold just about everything else.”

Hawkeye didn’t really look at either of the men as she answered, bending instead to pick up a broken piece of glass that had been glinting in the sunlight. “I tried, once,” she said. “Cleaned up some old jars and took them into town. But when Father found out, he grew very angry. I should have asked him first, but he was in the middle of research, and I didn’t want to disturb him.”

“When was this?” Mustang asked, clearly having no memory of this moment.

She glanced at him. “It was that summer you went back for a week, because your sister was getting married,” She said, and then examined the piece of glass in her hand a bit more before throwing it down. “We should probably get back to work.”

Havoc watched as understanding dawned on Mustang’s face and with it, a small amount of horror. Havoc’s brow furrowed, and he wondered what that was about. He had a feeling, though, like most of this history here, he would never truly know.

The gazebo was the last thing they examined, not that there was much to it. It didn’t take them long to go through it and then to collectively decide to take a break. All in all, it was another dirty day where they once again turned up absolutely nothing. Havoc was, personally, glad to be out of the heat and in the shade. From the way Mustang and Hawkeye were slumped in the chairs Mustang had repaired, they were too.

“…you fixed the roof,” Hawkeye said, looking up at the roof of the gazebo.

“Yeah,” Mustang said. “It was easy. I figured why not just go ahead and fix it while I was there.”

“Mm, well thank you,” Hawkeye said she was quiet for a moment. “I always liked coming out here, when I could.”

“You spend a lot of time outside?” Havoc asked, curious. The answer was obvious, but he was enjoying learning about Mustang and Hawkeye, and he hoped he could get a little more information out of them.

Hawkeye laughed. “Only as much as possible,” she said. “I did a lot of hunting and foraging in these woods, and it was a lot better to be outside then in, especially after father finished one of his research bends.” She sighed and looked up at the roof of the gazebo. “I don’t see myself coming back out here, but if I did, I’d want to make it look nice with flowers again.”

“You did tend them well,” Mustang said after a moment. “You showed me how to care for them. You showed me all sorts of things while I was here.”

She hummed in agreement. “I showed you how to do a lot of things.” A glint of mischief appeared in her eye, and Havoc paid attention, interested to see where this was headed. “Too bad we can’t do some of those same sorts of things,” she said. “I doubt going swimming in our underwear will be quite the same now as it was then.”

That caught Havoc’s attention. “Say what now?” Havoc said, raising an eyebrow.

Mustang scowled. “It’s not what you think.”

“It sounds like you got to see Hawkeye in her underwear,” he countered. “Her wet underwear! Pardon me sir, but you’re a luckier man then most!”

Hawkeye grinned. “The first time, it happened I hit him.”

“See, now that sounds like something I’d expect.” Havoc said, sitting back in his chair, clearly waiting for the story.

Mustang huffed. “We were kids! I was twelve! She was nine! There was nothing like that about it!”

“You wouldn’t still be here if there were,” Hawkeye retorted. “Father almost made sure you weren’t.”

“Oh, this sounds like a story,” Havoc said with a grin.

“It’s nothing!” Mustang protested.

“He was still new,” Hawkeye said, completely ignoring Mustang. “Hadn’t been around much, found the path and followed it. I had gone out for a bit of a swim, as it was still hot. He stumbled upon the pond, happened to see me. I saw him, and it looked like he was staring at me.”

“I saw you go under and not come back up,” Mustang mumbled. “And when you did, it was just your head. I thought you were drowning.”

“He came in the water after me, grabbed my arm, and I hit him right in the eye,” Hawkeye continued. “Thought he was after me. I fled back to the house, calling for my father. I didn’t typically scream like that, so he came out. I was soaking wet and scared, and managed to get out what had happened. Mustang came staggering up the path just a little bit behind me, his clothes soaked, with my clothes bundled up in his arms, and a bruise forming on his face.”

“I don’t think I ever saw Master Hawkeye so mad,” Mustang said, running a hand over his face. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“It took a little bit of explaining, but it was finally worked out that everything was an accident,” Hawkeye said. “Father did take some money to buy me material to make a bathing costume so this wouldn’t happen again, but I served Roy smaller and colder portions of food for a month.”

Havoc was laughing. “Oh, man that’s great! Roy here being a slick city boy probably didn’t help things any.”

Hawkeye smiled. “Not at all.”

Mustang grumbled about it, but it was clear that he wasn’t really taking an offense to her teasing. It was good to see her smile, Havoc, thought, and to see her with some good memories from this place. With the history that he could just feel weighing on this place, part of him had worried that Hawkeye had not had any joy in childhood. He had enjoyed hearing these stories from her today that countered that. It was still clear that being here was weighing heavy on her, but it seemed that there were some bright spots in her childhood. He did find it interesting, though, that most of them seemed to involve Mustang. Havoc filed that away for later thought and let himself just enjoy this moment.

They were quiet for a bit, enjoying the shade, and the lengthening light. The day was ending, and the evening beginning. Cicadas started to chirp, and a few spots of flashing light appeared as the lightning bugs started to come out. They’d be out heavier later, but for now their time was just beginning.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Havoc asked. “Turning up the dirt?”

Mustang looked over at Hawkeye and she shook her head. “No. Even the outbuildings were a long shot. When my father finished—” she took a breath, and Havoc saw her shoulders tighten, that haunted look coming back in her eyes. “By the time he finished transcribing his completed research, he was in no shape to leave the house. He barely left his room.”

Mustang was looking at her with that unfathomable look on his face again, and Havoc knew there was something that he was missing here, something important to them. It wasn’t likely that he was going to learn it now, though.

“We’ve struck out,” Mustang said, turning his attention back to the both of them. “It was a long shot anyway. Tomorrow morning we’ll get up, pack up, and head back,” Mustang said. “That’ll be a week. We’ve been away long enough.”

“Yeah. Hopefully the office isn’t in shambles,” Havoc said. “Or Fuery traumatized by some story Breda told him.”

That brought smiles to their faces, although they all knew that the master sergeant wasn’t that gullible or scared anymore, although still not fond of ghost stories.

“Well, if Breda pulled anything, I’m sure that Fuery had found a way to get him back,” Hawkeye said. “He’s become quite adept at slipping treats for Hayate in Breda’s pockets.”

Havoc laughed again, Roy chuckling too, before he stood up.

“We better go ahead and clean up,” Mustang said. “We’ll head out as soon as we can tomorrow.”

“Do we need to go ahead and call for tickets?” Havoc asked, standing up and stretching.

Hawkeye shook her head. “There’s no phone here,” she said. “Father never had one installed.”

“We’ll just have to spend some time in town waiting,” Mustang said. “Something should come through.”

“Unless the schedule had changed in a week, then yes, there should be,” Hawkeye said, standing up herself.

Mustang nodded. “Good. Then let’s go eat and pack up and clean up what we can. I want to get off as soon as possible tomorrow.”

The three of them made their way back to the house, Havoc pausing by that stuck kitchen door to look over the grounds again. He still thought that they, and the house itself, had the potential to be pretty. He just couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that there was something ominous about the place. Maybe it was the tension that had been between Mustang and Hawkeye all week. Maybe it was some of the stories that Hawkeye told, ones that rolled off her tongue as if they were normal, but made Mustang tense up and gave Havoc himself pause. Or maybe he was just reading too much into things. He just couldn’t help feel like he had missed a rather big puzzle piece here somewhere.

But, again, was this really his puzzle to solve?

“Jean—if you want some of the lemonade, you better get in here.”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he turned to go in, leaving the door open behind him, and his ruminations outside as well.

The evening passed fairly amicably. Someone had switched the radio on again, and they listened to it as they sat down to eat, finishing off whatever leftovers were there. Hawkeye poured a few more chemicals in that poor pot, and then went ahead and prepared them all food for the next day’s lunch and set aside what she could for breakfast. She had chosen the amounts of supplies well, and there was very little that was left. She saved what she could, clearly packing it to take home with her in her usual “waste not, want not” type of way.

The containers that had held the foodstuffs were washed and prepared to take back to Mrs. Nelson. Havoc and Mustang went through the house while Hawkeye was working on that, making sure that it was as pre-prepared as it could be for their departure, closing windows, closing off rooms, and emptying lamps of oil and sconces of wax.

Showers were taken in turn, with enough time between them that the water didn’t get too cold. Mustang offered to see if he could make the water in the boiler heat faster with his flames, but Hawkeye had shut that down with a fast and firm no, and Havoc thought it was probably for the best. Although, admittedly, if the boiler had blown up, it would make for a good story to end their time here. A destructive and potentially deadly one, but a good story, nonetheless.

Bedtime came not too long afterwards, all of them tired, but not as weary as other days. Havoc chalked it up to the tension between Mustang and Hawkeye being gone and settled into bed, once again staring up at the ceiling with Betsy the dress form looming in the corner.

Had it really been a week since he had come here with Mustang and Hawkeye? It almost felt like this place existed in it’s own little pocket of time or something. The past weighed heavy here, although it was a past he didn’t know about. It stayed, lingered, and left its presence, or at least it did on Hawkeye and, to some extent, Mustang. It was a heavy feeling, as if, even though they had found nothing, a lot had happened. Try as he might, Havoc couldn’t help but think about it as he laid there, attempting to sleep, laying out what he knew, and what he suspected.

Hawkeye’s father had taught Mustang alchemy, and flame alchemy was connected somehow. That had been a huge revelation to Havoc, and it explained so much about the two and their relationship. It still left a lot of questions, but it also answered more than a few.

Hawkeye grew up poor, and maybe even without food often. It, again, explained a lot. It explained how Hawkeye had so many different skills. It explained why she was so frugal with what she bought and how she continually repaired things. It explained why she tended to keep things until they were no longer useable. It explained why she could make meal out of almost anything, and why she tended to keep even the smallest amounts of food. When you grew up with little, you learned how to make it stretch.

Hawkeye’s mother had died when she was young. Hawkeye had cared for her father until he died. And, Havoc would guess, Hawkeye’s dad hadn’t been a good dad, although how far that went, he wasn’t sure. It brought a new light, though, to the way that she would fuss over anyone who was sick and ply them with teas and medicines until they went home or went to the doctor.

He had learned a lot about Hawkeye. He had learned about Mustang, too. But it still felt like he was missing something.

Havoc sighed and rolled over. He had lots of puzzle pieces, but he wasn’t even sure what kind of a puzzle he was putting together. All he knew was that what he had learned did explain a lot about Hawkeye, and about the relationship Hawkeye and Mustang had.

Havoc’s ears perked as he heard someone moving around the house, and he listened to see where the footsteps were going. It sounded like it was Mustang again, heading towards Hawkeye’s room. Havoc waited, listening, as this time Mustang knocked, but went ahead and opened the door. He heard muffled voices again, and then what sounded like Mustang getting on the bed.

Havoc stopped paying attention then. Maybe this wasn’t his puzzle to solve. Maybe he didn’t need to know. Maybe all he needed to do, right now, was close his eyes, and go to sleep.

He would just trust that, if he was meant to find out any answers, that they would come in time.

The morning was busy. Hawkeye cooked breakfast and gave the kitchen a good cleaning, the chemicals she had used making that pot Mustang had ruined usable again. Havoc regarded it as a small miracle and teased her about it until she hit him with a towel and told him to go check on the horses. Havoc had obliged with a grin, and went to ready the horses and the wagon for the trip back, making sure that the animals were ready. He also mucked out the barn, tossing the manure near what he thought was an old garden. The plants there looked like they could use the fertilizer. Mustang was on cleaning duty and made sure that the bathrooms were clean and that the beds were stripped. Working together, it wasn’t long before the three of them were loading up the wagon with their luggage, the containers for the Nelsons, and the bundled-up bedding that Hawkeye said Mrs. Nelson would clean. They climbed aboard and headed off, back down that rain-rutted road.

It was slow going again, as the road was still bad, but this time, at least, they were enjoying themselves, even if Hawkeye did seem tired. Havoc couldn’t really blame her for that. This week had been hard, but it had been particularly hard on her. This time, though, Hawkeye leaned into Mustang as they bumped along, and Havoc pretended not to notice when a hand brushed a thigh once or twice. Their business was their business.

Once out onto the road, they could move at a slightly faster clip, but Havoc still took it easy, enjoying spending a little time with a less up-tight Hawkeye in the area she grew up in. He asked her questions about the crops and groves that they saw, and she answered them as best she could. Forestry, she explained, was the best thing that this area had to offer, although it really wasn’t that much in the grand scheme of things. Her land, with its wild woods, was actually quite valuable because of that. She had no desire to cut down the woods and sell the timber, but instead let it grow wild and allowed hunting on it. She personally thought it was better that way, and Havoc found that he couldn’t disagree.

When it came to the other crops, most crops weren’t cash crops, but sustainable ones. They sent out a few small shipments of things here and there, but most of what was grown was used by the locals in the area. The area honestly had very little to offer and mostly kept to itself. Havoc certainly thought that explained why the town hadn’t grown much and wasn’t well known. There wasn’t anything to know about it.

It was a pleasant journey back into town, the Nelsons greeting them enthusiastically as they returned. Mrs. Nelson fussed over the containers and told Hawkeye that she hadn’t needed to bother, but Havoc saw her whisk them away anyway. He couldn’t blame her. One less thing to have to spend money on was money to spend on a different need. Havoc watched with great amusement as the older lady fussed over both Hawkeye and Mustang, questioning them a great deal more about just “what you two youngsters have been up to—yes, yes, we’ve seen the papers, but I want to hear things from you.”

It was in the middle of one of those conversations that someone called out Mustang’s name, and Havoc looked up from the preserves he was considering to see both Mustang and Hawkeye turn to look at the caller. It took him a minute, but he recognized him as one of the men from that first day in town. It also didn’t escape his notice that Mustang stepped just slightly in front of Hawkeye. Both of them looked tense, and Havoc slowly sat down the jar he was looking at, just in case.

“Thompson,” Mustang returned, his eyes focused on the man.

Havoc suddenly remembered Hawkeye’s words from earlier in the week, about how Mrs. Nelson always made sure that the kids behaved, and how she let Hawkeye “wait things out” in the store sometimes. It had made him wonder if Hawkeye had been bullied as a child, and he was pretty sure that he was getting his answer right now.

The three stared at each other for a moment, before Thompson stuck his hand out. “I saw you when you first came into town,” he said. “Didn’t have the time at that moment to talk to you, but I’m glad I ran into you now.” He looked over at Hawkeye. “To both of you. I just wanted to apologize for how I was when we were kids. It was wrong, and I wish some had culled me on it sooner. Heavens knows if I hear of my son doing half the things I did to the two of you, I’m going to make sure he can’t sit down for a week.”

That had Havoc’s interest piqued, but he wasn’t about to ask questions now. Instead he watched as Mustang gave a subtle glace to Hawkeye, who must have given him some sort of invisible signal, because Mustang reached out to take Thompson’s hand.

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” he said. “So long as we strive to be better and teach the next generation how to be better than us.”

Thompson gave Mustang a bit of a smile, then, when Mustang had let go, extended his hand to Hawkeye. For a second, she just regarded it, before she, too, reached out to shake it. “I can’t say they were enjoyable days, but thank you for your apology.”

Thompson gave her a smile as well and withdrew his hand. “Listen—some of the others are in town today. We’ve been talking since we saw you earlier this week. Would you be willing to come at least have a drink with us or something? It doesn’t have to be long.”

Havoc watched as Mustang and Hawkeye held one of their silent exchanges for a moment, and then, after a moment, agreed. Havoc begged off, saying he was going to take a smoke break before the train arrived, but he did watch them walk off. It was interesting, he thought, to watch his two commanding officers interact with these former bullies. Even though it seemed that bygones were bygones, they still constantly kept each other aware of the other’s presence, be it through being in eyesight, or through light touches or brushes. It made him wonder what watching these two fight together would look like just because they were so aware of each other.

There were layers of depth here, and Havoc felt like he was out of his element in trying to figure it out.

The train came soon enough, though, and with a last good-bye to the Nelsons—and some packages sent with them for the ride, courtesy of Mrs. Nelson—they boarded the train to leave Awrout behind. It would be nice to be back in Central, to be home again, Havoc thought, and he looked forward to things returning to normal—whatever that looked like for them.

The train was, again, full of people, and it took them a moment to find a set of seats together. Unlike last time, this trip promised to be a less tense one, and Havoc was honestly ready for it. Mustang and Hawkeye settled on the same bench as naturally as breathing, and that was a relief to Havoc. It was how the two of them needed to be, and honestly, Havoc was glad. He sat across from them, eyeing the bench’s length to see if he’d be able to stretch his legs out across it later. Hawkeye and Mustang seemed not to have noticed how they naturally angled their bodies towards each other, just slightly, not exactly touching, but close. When the train jerked into motion, Mustang’s hand moved towards Hawkeye’s as everyone jolted slightly. She let him, and Havoc decided that this trip was definitely going to be better then the one to Awrout.

It honestly wasn’t far into the ride that Hawkeye fell asleep, this whole week obviously having exhausted her. Havoc couldn’t blame her. She had been on an emotional roller coaster, and it wasn’t one that Havoc cared to repeat. He didn’t comment on the way that Mustang just shifted around to make her more comfortable against him, or on the soft looks Mustang gave her now and then. And Havoc didn’t comment on the way that Hawkeye seemed to settle in against him naturally. These two had fit together for years, it seemed. Havoc wasn’t going to try to change that.

“…It’ll be good to be home, won’t it, sir,” Havoc said softly.

“Hm?” Mustang glanced up from the paper he was reading. “Oh—yes it will be. I think we could all use a good night’s rest.”

“Yeah… Arwout wasn’t exactly restful was it?” Havoc mused.

Mustang looked up, letting out a silent sigh. “I can’t say that it was,” he agreed. “I’m glad to be leaving it behind.”

Havoc blinked a bit at this. Mustang had never seemed to hold any grudge against the town. If anyone had been glad to be leaving, he had assumed it would be Hawkeye most of all. “Was it really that bad to you?” he asked Mustang. “It sounded like there were some good memories for you two there.”

Mustang stared out the window at the passing landscape. “…some, yes.” He said after a moment. “But I’m not sure if they outweigh the rest.” He looked down at Hawkeye, sleeping against him. “I’d rather take the good from there with me and leave the bad behind.”

There was a lot in that sentence. Havoc didn’t bother to unpack it; he just nodded his head thoughtfully. “It’s always wise to take the good with us,” he said, and couldn’t help but wonder if there was more in that statement then he’d intended on saying.

In the end, there really wasn’t much more to say to that, and so Havoc fell silent, letting the noise of the train take over.

The train ride was uneventful, Hawkeye waking eventually, and the three of them sharing the treats Mrs. Nelson had packed for them, as well as the food Hawkeye had prepared. Havoc shared some of the sweets with the kid that was sitting behind him, and then had to deal with having a new best friend for the rest of the ride, much to the amusement of Mustang and Hawkeye. He didn’t mind, though. Honestly, it made him miss his nieces and nephews all the more. Eventually they pulled up to the station in Central and disembarked, Havoc taking the opportunity to do a full body stretch as they stood in the station.

“Do you need a ride back home?” Mustang asked him, and Havoc shook his head.

“Nah. It’ll do me good to walk. It’s not that late and it’s not that far.” He said. He nodded at Hawkeye. “If you’re going to give anyone a ride, let it be Hawkeye. She’s still got those chemicals in her bag, and I don’t want them to spill.”

Hawkeye shot him an unamused look. “They’re fine, and how did you know they’re in there anyway?”

Havoc shrugged. “Caught a glimpse when you were putting things away. Spent the rest of the train ride scared to death we were going to blow up.”

“Sure you did,” Mustang shot back. “That’s why you slept so well.”

Havoc grinned. “Exactly.” He gave them a jaunty wave and turned to head off. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Be safe!” Hawkeye called after him.

“You take all the fun out of life when you say that, Riza!” he called back.

Still, he couldn’t help but glance back at them as he walked away. They were standing next to each other, completely at ease once again. Mustang had been right about taking the good out of a place and leaving the bad behind. He just hoped that Hawkeye could do that too.

Although, perhaps that rabbit he happened to glimpse in her bag earlier would help her with that.

#fmabb #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Jean Havoc #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist fan fic #FMA #fma fanfiction #fma fanfic

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byler-n-harringrove · 5 years

Text

Let’s Be Alone Together || Chap 1

Hey guys! I decided to that I was going to write the first chapter on this story to see how it goes! I just wanted to fill you guys in on some of the context of this Au.

So this Au is Set in 2019- so robin is openly in the LGBTQ community, and Steve is honestly noticing his feelings for boys (not calling him bi yet), and I have aged up Billy and Robin so they are all the same age.

Thank you guys, and please leave a comment if you want to be tagged in this fanfic or you think I should continue writing it !

Love chey xx

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“So much for a fresh new start, who the fuck knew he was coming here too?” Steve scoffed for the millionth time, stacks of marked cardboard boxes in hand as he continued to trek between his shiny car and the girls' dorms.

They had been at this for 20 minutes now, the girl's dorms the furthest away from the student car park and even if Robin had not brought many boxes it was still a process for the two teens. Robin’s room was on the second floor, tucked away in the west side of the building in a room that hadn't seen her roommate just yet.

Steve didn't want to think that he would have to continue the process with his stuff.

“Oh, shut up, will you? Can't you just like, put in for a new partner?” Robin grunted with a small amount of aggression. The stairs were getting to her, and all she wanted was to have a shower and get to bed.

Grunting was his only response returned as he all but threw her stuff, only blankets and clothes, onto the floor of the dorm room. A small noise signalled that Rodin did the same, sighing in relief as she leaned against the labelled door. One room down, Steve’s was left.

They soon found themselves trekking down the concrete stairs again, their footsteps reverberating softly against the cream walls of the stairway.

“I can't, put in for that thing I mean unless its dyer straights or somethin’ stupid like that. I guess ill just spend most of my time in the library anyway. I’ve heard they have some of the biggest collections of classic writings on Victorian literature.” Steve may be an airhead most of the time, but he honestly could just geek out around Robin. After all, despite all the odds, Steve was aiming to become an English Teacher.

She rolled her eyes, made a soft, half-hearted comment about him being some ‘egg-head’ and a doofus’ before they fell into the rhythm of small chit chat about their upcoming week of first classes. Robin herself was going into digital art and design, her passion for expressing herself shone through in all aspects, even in her sexuality.

Scooping up Steves boxes, they would only need two trips as he tried not to bring too much with him, they started off to find Steves room. On the opposite side of the dormitories, Steve’s room would be on the 4th floor towards the south side of the building.

Robin complained rather loudly the whole way up while Steve tried to block it out with small humming. Their synchronized steps soon came to his room 221B (yes haha, the references), the door slightly creaked open meaning that his rather annoying roommate would already be inside.

“Welp, am I good to leave your stuff here and go get the rest? I'm in too much of a good mood, sorry dingus” She gave him a sympathetic look as she put her boxes down in front of the door.

Steve simply nodded and handed her the keys, not pushing the conversation. Billy had been quite the arsehole in Hawkins, and in the narrowminded town Billy didn't hold back from the homophobic slurs against the people who owned their sexuality - like Robin and the small few other LGBTQ+ community that lived there. He hasn't let up on Robin at any time through their education.

She darted back off down the hallway, leaving Steve to face the beast.

Pushing the door open with his foot, Steve once again got that feeling of questioning his heterosexuality as Billy stood there in his half-naked glory with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, standing hunched beside their shared window.

Hearing the door open the mullet-wearing teen turned, his signature cocky grin spreading across his lips as Steve felt like he was going to spontaneously combust on the spot. Billy's golden locks and rippling abs shone in the minimal amount of light coming through the window, jeans hanging low as he looked like he belonged in an art museum.

Yeah, okay, Robin may have been on the money about him being bi or whatever the hell they called it.

“Well well, Mr Steve fucking Harrington hey? I never thought I would be seeing that ugly mug again. But, you just had to stalk me to fucking California, didn't ya pretty boy?” That husky voice ridden with nicotine sent a shiver down his spine.

The shorter teen had to all but force his brain not to focus on Billy’s drop-dead looks, not like he hadn't noticed it when they were in Hawkins, as he didn't need the sexualised thoughts he experienced before when they shared showers. As much as he hated Billy, he couldn't deny there was some underlying sexual attraction, which had only added to more of a disliking for sharing a room for so long.

Steve grunted weakly, pushing the box of records in with his feet and dropping his box of clothes on the free side of the bedroom. He had to force his eyes away from Billy’s annoyingly perfect body and towards his boxes.

“I’m not here to fight Hargrove. I’ll be spending most of my time in the library and I’ll be here to probably sleep. I don’t want anything to do with fighting, or with you” Steve peeled open his box, keeping his back faced to Billy.

He heard Billy scoff behind him, and while he continued to unpack his stuff he heard what sounded like Billy all but diving onto his bed.

“Whatever Hargrove, you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, right pretty boy?” Billy didn't seem as agitated, as ready to snap as he had been in Hawkins, but Steve wasn't going to take it all on face value and let down his guard.

Steve continued to unpack his stuff and the silence that laid over them heavily and was laced with awkwardness. Placing his vintage records on his small desk tucked in the corner of the bedroom, Steve found the time to steal a small glance over toward Billy’s side of the room.

Decorated in what Steve could only explain as a mix between Rock and Surfer scheike, a mix between what he had only seen of Billy in Hawkin’s sparingly and a side hidden, probably due to the lack of water to surf in. It was interesting, not as harsh, and when his eyes scanned over he was shocked and rather startled to make eye contact with the now cigarette-less blonde.

Another smirk arose on his face.

“Take a photo and it’ll last longer pretty boy” Steve had to stop himself from grinding his teeth too hard.

Rolling his eyes, he pulled away as Billy fished out a vibrating phone from his jean pocket. Silence fell again before Billy was springing up from his bed and rummaging through is designated closet and reemerging with a shirt.

“You don't touch my fucking shit and I won't touch yours, yes? I'm going out, don't fucking wait up or anything, Harrington.” Billy spat, pulling his tight white shirt over his head, before glancing in the mirror to fix his hair.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes “Whatever, seems fair.” He answered back with some sarcasm, but he honestly toned it back and down to make sure that Billy wasn't going to be slamming his slimmer body against walls by the collar anytime soon.

The other man scoffed but was soon enough placing another cigarette in his mouth and scampering out of the door “Good to see you too, Buckley�� He had commented on his way out, bringing Steve’s attention to his freckled friend stacking boxes in the hallway who shrunk at the attention Billy offered her.

Entering with boxes Robin set out to help Steve unpack, waving off Steve and telling him she would unpack later and just wanted to hang out. Robin was a good friend after all and helped Steve to get his mind off of Billy through a lovely screening of The Breakfast Club as they unpacked and Robin scolded Steve on keeping his room clean.

The night came too fast, and with Robin ordering a large extra cheesy pizza - it was her turn to shout - they stayed cooped up in Steve’s dorm watching shitty 80’s movies until they were falling asleep atop of one another. Only just friends of course, but he was nothing but happy to share a friendly type of intimacy with her.

Though, in the firing of his last conscious neurons, he found the image of a shirtless and sexy Billy scolding him behind his eyelids. It caused his heart to ache, and with the buzzing of The Fly in the background he finally found a restless sleep revolving around his not-so-friendly roommate.

God, what was Steve in for?

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington #harringrove moodboard #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve x billy #hawkins #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfic

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