#you can pry loose brown clothing from this man's cold dead fingers

[leapingbadger]

Yaaaassss!!!

Working on some Obi-wan + Mandalorian armour stuff and having the time of my life

[allegedlyanandroid]

Pairing: Allen60 Prompt: Cold Types: Found Family, Fluff AU: Angels and Demons, Sixty as the little devil he is, and Allen just being human.

I am so late 😅 I wrote an entire thing before realising I hated every word of it and started over from scratch. Anyway... excuses aside, I hope you like it @yayen-chan <3 `(‾◡◝)´ 

“Okay, bookshelves first,” Allen mutters, following the intricate maze of arrows and concrete as he tries to navigate the local IKEA. “Or rugs. That works too,” he sighs when he glances up and finds himself in the wrong part of the store. Looking through the copious amounts of different rugs Allen rapidly finds himself overwhelmed. He tries reading a few of the ridiculously complicated names, stuttering over them when trying to read them out loud. “Ra- raskmol- mölle?”  

Giving up on the fifth time trying to pronounce it correctly Allen rolls the grey-and-black striped fabric up and tosses it on the cart, already dreading trying to find the rest of the items on his list. There’s only one really but when passing through the plant-section he stops to pick up a potted plant. The other one is beyond salvaging from lack of water. “Ilex, foreeneling? För-enlig. What are these names?”  

After another dead-end and some frustrated grumbling, he does find the bookshelf he needs. Honestly… this trip alone solidifies why he’s never getting a puppy. The one he took in to foster was a sweet thing but very demanding and unaware that he weighed quite a lot for a pup. He’d knocked Allen’s bookshelf over, thus breaking it, and also had an accident on his rug. If being petless meant never having to go here again then that’s a price he’s willing to pay. At least the shelter had found a family for him quickly and, while he did miss the little rascal, the puppy was undoubtedly in better hands.  

“Kallax, hemnes... gersby?”

Too caught up in his own head he doesn't notice the strange scent of warm brimstone and ash filtering through the air nor does he notice the young “man” standing behind him, a man who seemingly appeared out of thin air, until he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Allen jerks his head up from wrestling with the cardboard box and offers an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Or, you could tell me why I’m here and spare me the mundane small talk you humans seem so obnoxiously fond of.”

“I’m sorry?”

The man squints. “You summoned me.”

Allen pauses to take a good look at the man. He’s tall with black, artistically tousled hair and endless amounts of freckles. A few moles are scattered across his skin and his brown eyes are filled with irritation. Dark jeans with a long-sleeved shirt tucked into it, a black overcoat ending at about mid-thigh and a purple scarf hanging unknotted around his neck. Allen thinks long and hard yet finds no recollection of ever seeing this man before in his life let alone speaking to him. “I have no idea who you are.”

“You-” the man pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply and slowly let it out before starting again. “You read the incantation to evoke me and you what… didn’t even realise it?” he asks and receives nothing but a blank stare from Allen in return. “Ugh, humans.”

In the blink of an eye the man transforms. Horns curve with the shape of his skull, producing from close to his temples, before ending in sharp tips that blend in with his raven hair. A black tail is wrapped around his leg which ends with a jagged spear-like point. The tips of his fingers look like they’ve been dipped in charcoal, fading into dark grey about halfway up his fingers, with claw-like black nails top it all off. They tap against the metal shelf next to them as the demon slowly advances.  

Too shocked to move, Allen’s jaw is taken in a firm grip and when the demon smiles his teeth are pointed blades. “So… are you going to tell me what it is you want?”

“You can let go of my face for a start,” Allen says, adding a quick “thank you,” when the demon does as he’s told. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Sixty.”

“Sixty,” Allen repeats. “No offence but I quite like having my soul intact. I’m sorry for dragging you from… whatever circle of hell you reside in, but I’m not interested in making any sort of deal with you.”

“Sucks to be you then because I’m not leaving until you do,” Sixty says and from his tone of voice alone Allen knows he’s a hundred percent serious.  

‘Fucking IKEA.’

-

“Really? You couldn’t have chosen to live somewhere a bit warmer?” Sixty asks with disdain, thankfully back to looking human. His feet sink into the four inches worth of snow dusting the ground and he can already feel the cold seeping in through the gaps in his clothing. “Or somewhere nicer in general.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“No one’s forcing you to live here.” A pause. “Or if they are, I am more than willing to kill them for you free of charge.”  

Allen sighs.

-

Having a demon for a housemate isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Sixty mostly keeps to himself whenever he isn’t trying to get a rise out of him or complaining about the cold or putting things on tall shelves like the little shit he is. Until Sixty gets bored that is.

Because when Sixty gets bored trouble ensues.  

-

Emerging from his office after a long day of meetings to see his demonic housemate casually chatting with parts of his team in the breakroom is a bit out of left field and the sight of Sixty’s mischievous eyes boring into his own is enough to quicken his pace. “What are you doing here, Si- Silas?” he asks, forcing a smile on his face.

He hates how no one else can look past the innocent brown eyes and syrupy grin to see the smugness beneath. “I thought we were supposed to eat lunch together? Did you forget?”

“No, of course not,” Allen hastens to say, ignoring Willis and Clark’s knowing grins, as he wracks his brain for a response. “Though I distinctly remember asking you to wait outside.”

“It would have been rude of me to decline Julie’s offer of getting coffee,” Sixty replies and raises his mug as if to show it off.

“No need to be jealous, boss. We just wanted to get to know the guy better,” Julie says.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you hang out with anyone outside of work apart from Reed,” Clark pipes up. “We got curious.”

“I’m not jealous!” Allen tries to defend himself, latching on to the word, but the agitated tone does nothing to help his case. Sixty smirking behind the rim of the coffee cup like a cat who got the cream isn’t helping to improve his mood either.

“You are the pettiest asshole I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting,” Allen says when they’re safely away from prying eyes.

Sixty snickers, knowing full well the amount of endless curiosity and ceaseless questions he’s unleashed on the human. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”

The fistful of snow he gets shoved in his face shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

By the time he manages to blink the melting snow out of his eyes Allen is too far away to retaliate, though that doesn’t stop Sixty from trying.  

-

Despite his best efforts Sixty’s irritation with being unceremoniously dragged into the mortal plane dissipates after the third week of staying with Allen. By the time he’s been there for a month and a half, Allen’s team have adopted him as one of their own and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. They genuinely care about his well-being and often invite him along on outings. As someone whose family is… overbearing, their light-hearted ribbing is a nice change of pace. Their easy dynamic is the very opposite of stifling. No one ever pries when he declines to answer a question. No one touches him after he made it clear he dislikes physical contact. No one quizzes him about his every movement.

It’s… nice.

The next team building exercise and subsequent photo op, proudly displayed on the communal fridge, includes him and Sixty doesn’t cry even a little bit upon seeing that.  

Not at all.

-

In the end, the shift in their relationship is near seamless ‒ from reluctant roommates to friends to something more.  

What hits him first is the metallic scent of fresh blood and Sixty is halfway across the room before he can even process rising to his feet. He gathers Allen up in his arms and leads him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Part of his dark shirt is tacky with blood and Sixty feels no remorse when he shreds it to get it off as quickly as possible. Something, a bullet or knife, must have grazed his side. It’s bleeding sluggishly though it thankfully isn’t deep. Sixty takes the ruined shirt and presses it against the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it.”

Allen doesn’t answer and in the end he’s the one who has to move Allen’s hand to take over while he dashes to the bathroom for the medkit. Sixty plunks it down on the floor and fills a bowl of lukewarm water to put down beside it before fetching a clean towel. He kneels down between Allen’s legs and cleans meticulously around the area, noting the patches of skin where bruises are slowly forming. Swiping over the wound with antiseptic earns him a bitten-off hiss and Sixty puts a hand on Allen’s sternum to steady him after the first involuntary flinch.  

He keeps it there, soothed by feeling the steady thrum of Allen’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips, until he needs the use of both his hands. In its absence, Sixty’s tail comes up to wrap loosely around his thigh for comfort.  

Butterfly bandages instead of sutures, his tail instead of his hand. Allen doesn’t say a word about either choice though he is smiling down where they’re connected once Sixty chances a quick peek.

There’s nothing left for him to do after covering the wound with gauze, taping the edges down, yet Sixty finds himself lingering there regardless.  

It’s easy to trace around the gauze with the very tip of a claw and when he catches Allen’s dark eyes the urge to lean down to place a gentle kiss over it wins out. Allen sighs quietly and coaxes Sixty up to kiss him properly ‒ a chaste press of lips against lips followed by a sincere thank you.  

Sixty blushes and knocks his forehead against Allen’s, mindful of his horns, in a silent show of affection.

-

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because I literally stepped in the door a second ago?” Allen laughs and pulls Sixty in for a quick kiss.

“Excuses,” Sixty sniffs and steals another kiss, one that quickly devolves into a dozen pecks being pressed all over his face until Allen plants a last lingering one to his lips.

“I love you,” Allen says when they break apart for real.  

The shy smile spreading over Sixty’s lips is one he’ll never tire of seeing.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Cold, Getting Warmer

Ao3

Content Includes: Hypothermia, Remy being a smart idiot, cuddling for warmth, nonbinary!Roman Pairings: Losleep, Royality Summary: It's New Year's Eve. And while the year will always change eventually, some things never do Like how stupid Remy can be in the pursuit of the simpler things in life

Logan knew many things to be factually true. The sun rises and declares the morning from the east, and it sets and brings about nightfall in the west. There were seven continents. Human thigh bones were stronger than concrete. 

    There were also many things he knew to be true even without metaphorically cold, hard facts to support him. Pluto was a planet. Crofter’s was the best jelly in the world. And his boyfriend was never the smartest person in any room- even if he was the only one there.

    Logan didn’t mean it as a slight to Remy, he really didn’t- Remy was clever, had a great memory (especially for stars and Logan’s favorite things), was brilliant at tearing apart and putting back together just about any machine you handed him.

    But common sense-wise? Well, he wasn’t necessarily lacking in it, so much as he had a tendency to ignore it.

    A lot.

So when Logan found their house lacking in his sleep-deprived partner, but not in his beloved leather jacket (which was draped carelessly over the back of their couch), he knew Remy was off doing something inarguably foolish.

    He gave Remy the benefit of the doubt for a few hours, however. Sometimes his boyfriend was off doing good stupid things. And Logan didn’t want to be overbearing. Remy was his own adult, and he had the right to make his own horrible decisions.

    After an hour or so, however, with the weather outside getting only worse- light flurries turned into thick snow fall, the temperature only continuing to plummet- the left behind jacket became more and more worrisome. Remy wore his jacket everywhere- why would he leave it behind? Especially today, when he really could use every protection from the cold?

    As soon as Logan started entertaining that thought, he knew his attempt to let Remy be responsibly stupid were forfeit. He tried to push it off for a few minutes, but there was something to be said about anxiety running in his family (for the best example, see his brother, one of his nicknames literally being ‘anxiety’), and the possibilities that abandoned jacket offered were not ones Logan was willing to risk becoming true.

    Logan pulled on his winter coat, adding a scarf and gloves while he stuffed Remy’s into his pockets. He put on his boots as he grabbed his boyfriend’s jacket, grabbed a few heating packs just to be safe, and set out.

    Despite his preparations to the opposite, however, Logan didn’t have to travel far to find Remy. He was only a few steps outside when he spotted him, his boyfriend pressed against the side of their house only a stone’s throw away from the door. His face was pressed against the wall, sunglasses completely slipped down his nose, revealing that his eyes were closed. He looked small like that, sitting in snow up to his waist, only in a t-shirt and jeans and yet only shaking a little bit.

    Logan felt his breath catch in his throat, every detail about Remy’s condition categorizing itself in his mind until only one word remained: hypothermia.

    After all, he had been (presumably) outside for over an hour, in minimal protective clothing, and now he appeared to be asleep, barely shaking despite how frigid it was, and what if he had been out here too long, how long had he been sleeping, would he even wake up,

    Logan shook his head, hard. He couldn’t let himself think like that, at least not until he had properly accessed Remy’s condition. He quickly made his way over to his boyfriend, crouching down the moment he was next to Remy. He picked up his wrist, checking his pulse. About sixty-four beats per minute. Not great, but not extremely worrisome. Yet.

    Moving his hand from Remy’s wrist to his own hand, slowly rubbing at his fingers and trying to get warmth back into them before they turned blue, Logan reached out his other hand to cup Remy’s cheek, gently shaking him. “Remy? Remy, can you hear me?”

    Immediately, Remy’s eyes fluttered open, blinking at Logan in confusion as Remy struggled to focus on Logan. When he did, a wide grin broke over Remy’s face, and before Logan could react his boyfriend was throwing himself at Logan, head awkwardly smashing into Logan’s neck, arms loosely but energetically wrapping around Logan.

    “There you are.” Remy mumbled into Logan’s neck. “‘Was waiting for you.”

    “Waiting for me?” Logan repeated as his hands started to run up and down Remy’s back. He was nearly frozen, his back covered in goosebumps Logan could feel through his shirt, and his arms felt like ice cubes pressed against Logan. “Why were you waiting for me? Were you locked out?”

    “Nah.” Remy answered. “‘Was waiting for you.”

    Logan frowned. That wasn’t helpful. Or comforting. “Alright.” He said, letting the matter drop for the moment. His top priority was getting Remy warm. “Can you stand?”

    “With help.” Remy told him, wiggling his hips for emphasis. “I’m a lil’ trapped.”

    “Alright.” Logan repeated as he nodded, looking at the room around Remy’s hips- or, better put, the lack of it. The snow had likely built up around him while he had been out here.

    It took Logan a minute to free Remy, digging out a little room for him before standing up and pulling him to his feet. To Logan’s surprise, Remy’s legs did have a bit of feeling still in them, despite having been trapped beneath the snow for who-knows-how-long. Knowing this, Logan pulled one of Remy’s arms over his shoulder, taking his hand and sliding his other arm over Remy’s shoulders as well, allowing Remy to lean heavily on him as they slowly but surely made their way back to the front door.

    Once inside, Logan guided Remy to the couch, unconcerned with getting it wet or messy as he placed his boyfriend on it. He settled Remy against it before disappearing for a few seconds, running to grab clothes for Remy to change into. He came away with fuzzy coffee pj pants he was certain were Remy’s, a NASA shirt that was his but easy to grab, and some mismatched socks.

    As easy as it was to collect a change of clothes, getting Remy’s current ones off was about ten times harder. The shirt came off alright once Remy actually cooperated with Logan. The pants, damp and half-frozen, were much more of a fight, but eventually they came off (not without a substantial amount of effort on Logan’s behalf, however).

    Remy was much more willing to be put into the change of clothes, happily running his fingers over the fuzz of his pj pants and seeming very excited to get to wear one of Logan’s shirts (despite the fact that he stole one of them every other day of the week). For a almost-should-be-dead man, Logan reflected, Remy sure was cute.

    Actually putting the shirt on Remy turned out to be a minor challenge, not because Remy resisted the action, but because he immediately latched onto Logan when he got close enough to pull the shirt over Remy’s messy brown curls. Normally, Logan would have indulged the spontaneous cuddling, but he still needed to make Remy some tea and ransack the house for blankets.

    Knowing he would be able to cuddle with Remy in ten minutes, after he had collected the necessary supplies, didn’t make having to pull himself away from his boyfriend any easier. Logan was already in a hurry to get everything done, but the puppy eyes Remy was giving him, fully unleashed since his sunglasses had been aside, gave him the spur of energy he needed to get everything together in just over five minutes.

    “Logannnnnnnnnnnn.” Remy whined as Logan plopped several blankets on top of him, pulling them around his shoulders and twisting them around him completely. Of course, they wouldn’t help much until Remy was producing his own heat to be trapped, but the tea was almost ready, and once Logan had that he was more than happy to act as his boyfriend’s source of heat.

    “Yes?” Logan asked as he avoided another arm trying to prematurely trap him in cuddles.

    “Why won’t you hooooooold meeeeeeee.”

    “Because your tea’s not done yet.” Logan responded as he stopped for a moment, pressing a hand against Remy’s chest. It was still unnaturally cold to the touch. “And I am well-aware that once I start holding you, you will not let me leave to get the tea. So you have to wait a little longer.”

    Remy scowled at that but didn’t respond, instead choosing to grab Logan’s hand, holding it in both of his, seemingly happy with the moment of compromise. Logan sighed.

    “I just don’t know what happened.” He said, not really expecting a response from Remy. Not yet, anyways. “You never go anywhere without your jacket. Why did you leave it behind this time?”

    Remy hummed. “Left it on purpose. Duh.”

    Logan’s eyebrows raised at that. “You- You what?”

    Before Remy could respond, the shriek of the kettle sounded off in the background, prompting Logan to (gently) pry his hand away from Remy. “I’ll be right back.” He promised before hurrying over to get the kettle, pouring the water and plunking in the tea bag as quickly as he could manage without burning himself. He quickly got back to Remy, who was still looking annoyed over Logan once more abandoning him.

    “You better be here to stay this time.” Remy said as Logan approached, pouting. Logan chuckled as he pressed the mug into Remy’s hands.

    “Don’t drink that yet.” He ordered. “The tea bag needs to soak, but the external warmth it can provide you will be good for you in the meanwhile.” He explained as he moved the blankets around just enough to slip into them himself, having long ago shed his winter gear. As soon as he had tucked them both back completely into the blanket pile, Remy shoved himself into Logan’s chest, careful to not spill his drink as he pressed himself as close to Logan as physically possible.

    “You’re warmer.” Remy murmured, and Logan’s mouth quirked into a smile.

    “I’m not surprised.” He admitted, wrapping his arms around Remy, gently running them over his back, trying to warm up the blood there.

Silence stretched between them for a minute or so, Remy content to just rest against Logan. Eventually, however, Logan broke it, asking, “Remy… what did you mean when you said you left the house without your jacket on purpose?”

“I meant what I said, babes.” Remy responded, and Logan took a little bit of comfort in the fact that he was once more using nicknames, though not much in his response itself.

“Why didn’t you take your jacket with you if you were heading outside?” Logan pressed. “It’s too cold to be out without something, Remy, you know that. And you were outside for so long- why didn’t you ring the doorbell? Or knock on a window?”

“I already told you. I was out there on purpose.” Remy replied easily.

Logan frowned. “Why? Were you looking for something?”

Remy shrugged his shoulders by a fraction. “You could say that.”

“But with it so cold- why would you go looking for something without your jacket?! And how would you find anything just… sitting in the snow?”

“Well, I wasn’t sitting the entire time.” Remy defended. “I walked around at first. But you were taking forever to come looking for me, so eventually I got tired and, yes, I sat down.”

“To come looking for you…” Logan paused, frown deepening. “Remy, what were you looking for?”

Remy didn’t respond, only tilting his head a bit to look up more fully at Logan.

“Remy.” Logan repeated. “What were you looking for?”

“...Cuddles.”

Logan didn’t respond to that for a moment, instead just blinking in bewilderment at his boyfriend, who was still looking at him as if he were innocent. “You-” Logan started, stopped himself, blinked some more, and tried again, “You gave yourself hypothermia so I’d cuddle you?!”

“I didn’t give myself hypothermia.” Remy protested. “I just… encouraged my core temperature to do the metaphorical limbo.”

“Remy!”

“Alright, alright, I might have given myself hypothermia. Just a little bit.”

‘Why?!” Logan demanded. “If you wanted to cuddle you could have just asked!”

“There’s no fun in that.” Remy replied lightly, despite the fact that this was what Logan would consider a very serious situation. “And this way I knew you’d have to cuddle me instead of doing something stupid like working.”

“My work isn’t stupid.” Logan defended, though he didn’t know why that mattered in the moment. The response was more instinctual than anything.

“I know, hun, I know.” Remy assured him. “But you trying to do it on New Year’s Eve is. So I had to find a way to drag you from it. Plus, cuddles are, like, scientifically proven to be better when there’s more of a heat difference.”

“That’s not science.” Logan corrected, the shock in his voice beginning to fully fall away into unabashed worry. “What’s science is the fact that what you did was stupid.”

“That sounds like an opinion to me, really.”

“An opinion based in solid fact.” Logan replied, voice softening as he continued, “You could have given yourself serious hypothermia doing that, or a bad case of frostbite, or- Remy, you could have die-”

“Hey, none of that now.” Remy cut Logan off before he could finish, sitting up a bit so he was more at eye level with his boyfriend. “I wasn’t going to die. I’m not that stupid.”

“But you could have.” Logan insisted. Remy shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t have.” Remy said. “Cold-blood runs in the family, sugar; why do you think I wear my jacket everywhere? I know how to handle myself in the cold. I was being perfectly safe while I was being stupid.”

“And if something had gone wrong?” Logan pushed. He was still holding Remy, but his grip was tighter now, the weight of what had happened hitting him harder than he would have preferred to admit to. “Then what?”

“I would have gotten you.”

“And how would you have done that? Your phone was in your jacket pocket, and you got yourself stuck in the snow. If I hadn’t come out for you-”

“I still would have been fine.” Remy interrupted him, one hand moving from holding his tea mug to cupping one of Logan’s cheeks. The touch was warm, mostly due to the warmth of the mug, but Logan was hopeful to say at least a little of it was Remy’s natural warmth finally starting to come back to him. “You’re trying to make all the ‘what-if’s’ worse than they were or are, sweetheart.”

“I’m trying to prove a point.” Logan replied.

Remy just hummed. “But you can’t. Because I was being safe. I was purposeful when I sat down. I was right underneath the window to the living room, where you always sit when you’re worried about me but don’t want to chase after me if I’m just doing normal stupid things. If I had started to feel warm or anything else warning-flag-y I would’ve knocked on the glass, and you would’ve come out and saved me like the perfect princely boyfriend you are.”

Logan managed a small smile at that. “That’s Patton’s partner. And the two of them are coming over tonight to watch the ball drop with us, I must remind you.”

Remy moved the hand cupping Logan’s cheek to press a finger firmly into Logan’s chest. “You have more royalty in your pinkie than Roman does in their entire body, darling. And you’re prettier. And smarter. And I’m pretty sure stronger. Oh, and definitely cuter.”

“You are trying to avoid the points of importance.”

“Every point I just made were, by themselves, more important than literally anything else in the entire world, coffee included.” Remy countered, though the finger he had been poking into Logan’s chest was replaced by Remy simply pressing his palm against his chest instead. “And Roman and Patton are always touchy feely. I don’t care if they have to deal with us cuddling while they’re here.”

“And if I mind?” Logan asked, teasingly.

“Then I guess it sucks to be you, buttercup.” Remy answered, finally taking a sip of his tea as he snuggled up even closer to Logan. “Because I am still very, very cold, and I think I will be for the rest of the year.”

“Ha ha.” Logan deadpanned, one of his hands pushing up the edge of Remy’s shirt, running along his skin. Though he was beginning to warm up, Remy was still much colder than Logan ever wanted his boyfriend to be. Logan started to rub circles into Remy’s skin, prompting his boyfriend to tilt his head back up at him once more.

“Don’t do that again.” Logan said quietly, looking more at Remy’s shoulder than his face. He could still see the soft smile that graced Remy’s face, however, laced with fondness and the slightest regret.

“I won’t.” Remy promised just as quietly, pressing his head against Logan’s neck reassuringly, his skin still cold but getting steadily warmer. “Promise.”

Logan just hummed at that, but it was a good hum as he slightly tugged Remy even closer, his boyfriend more or less in his lap at this point as he attempted to fully surround Remy in warmth.

And Logan was forced to admit that, for all the stupidity that had lead up to it, Remy might have a point about the best cuddles having a heat difference.

~~

By the time their guests were ringing the doorbell, night had fallen, and both Logan and Remy were in (more or less) the exact same positions they had been ten hours ago

They had done a bit of moving around in that time, of course, but with Logan’s desire to keep Remy cocooned and warm and Remy making Logan leaving him alone an Olympic sport, instances of them moving were few and far between. They had gotten up for a couple of assorted bathroom breaks, and Logan twice to get snacks, but that was about it. Their life for the last day of the year had mostly been cuddling, snacking, and watching the first season of Elementary.

The pattern didn’t change when they heard the knock- Logan calling out, “Come in!” while Remy fumbled for the remote, switching the tv over to the Ball Drop festivities. The doorknob turned and the door pressed open, having been left unlocked in Logan’s earlier haste to take care of Remy.

“The party has arrived!” Roman exclaimed as they threw open the door, a few grocery bags hanging off of one arm and Patton on their other, both of them smiling broadly.

Logan turned to face them, looking unimpressed. “You’re late. The Ball’s only a few minutes from dropping.” He said, Remy half-waving at the guests, still pressed against Logan’s chest while he lectured their late arrivals.

“We’re arriving fashionably late.” Roman explained away while Patton closed the door. One of Roman’s eyebrows raised in amusement when they fully realized the position Logan and Remy were in. “Are we interrupting something?”

“Only the peaceful silence you always seem to be at war with.” Logan replied, smirking when Roman looked offended. “My boyfriend gave himself hypothermia earlier today. I am simply ensuring his core temperature remains at a steady and healthy temperature.”

“Hypothermia?!” Patton repeated worriedly, detaching himself from Roman to move over to the bundled-up boyfriends. He worriedly placed a hand on Remy’s forehead, which had by then regained its usual temperature of slightly cool to the touch.

“He’s alright now, Patton, no need to be distressed.” Logan assured him, even as the self-deemed Dad Friend still fretted over the fact that Remy was vaguely cool. “He just refuses to let me leave him alone.”

“If he tries to stop cuddling me I start whining aggressively and annoyingly.” Remy confirmed, snuggling closer to Logan’s chest to prove his point. “I plan to start the New Year in the arms of the best person to literally ever exist.”

“Patton is right there.” Roman pointed out as they dropped their grocery bags on the coffee table in front of Logan and Remy. They wrapped around Patton from behind, managing to get a little squeak of joy from their boyfriend despite his worrying over Remy as Roman added, “And I’m right behind him.”

Remy stared Roman down. “I am well aware.”

“Nerd, I hate to inform you that your boyfriend is an idiot, but considering he just dared to say you are better than both me and my sunshine, I have concluded that he must be.” Roman said in mock offense, refusing to look at Remy.

“Oh, Remy is an idiot.” Logan agreed, getting a faux shocked gasp from said boyfriend before he continued, “But he is right in that aspect.”

Roman’s look of offense only grew. “I can’t believe you both insulted the love of your life and became an idiot yourself.”

“It’s not an insult if it’s true.” Logan countered. “How do you think Remy got hypothermia?”

Roman shrugged. “By getting cold.”

Logan looked at them, unamused by their broad grin at what they clearly thought was a clever answer, before answering correctly, “By going outside without his jacket and wandering aimlessly in the cold and snow until I dragged him back inside.”

Both Roman and Patton’s eyes widened at this revelation, turning to look at an unashamed Remy. “You did what?!” Patton demanded. Remy just smirked at him.

“You heard my man.” He said, casually leaning his head back on Logan’s shoulder. “I went right on out and froze myself.”

“And, pray tell, why did you think this was a wise decision?” Roman asked incredulously.

“Oh, I didn’t.” Remy admitted easily. “I just thought it was the decision that was most likely to get me a lot of cuddles. And look where I am now! Living the life.”

Logan shook his head slightly, though he looked amused. “He is incredibly lucky that I love him, despite his complete lack of common sense.”

Remy turned his head slightly to the side so that he could press a small kiss against Logan’s chin. “Well I already knew that, Procyon. Anyone’d be lucky to attract the love of a star.”

Logan’s cheeks faintly tinged red at that. “Oh, hush you.” He ordered quietly, though he followed it by pressing a kiss to Remy’s forehead and smiling at him.

While they were distracted with each other, Roman nodded to themself, slowly letting go of Patton as they snuck backwards towards the front door. “That’s gay guys, really gay.”

“We are plenty aware.” Remy said as he reached up, tangling his hands in Logan’s hair and beginning to comb through it. “And where are you going, Mx. Gayest-of-them-all? The Ball’s about to drop.”

“Oh, I’m just going to step outside for a moment.” Roman said easily, taking another step backwards even as the entire group turned to look at them. “Think I… left something in the car.”

“Ro-Ro.” Patton said, an eyebrow raising. “Sweetie, did you really leave something in the car?”

Roman didn’t respond, standing in place for a moment, staring at the others with a blank face before they darted for the door, clearly inspired by Remy’s tale of frozen cuddles. Before either Remy or Logan could say anything, or Roman could reach the door, however, Patton had flung himself across the room, slamming into Roman’s back and taking them both down a few feet from the door. Roman had thrown their hands out ahead of them in time, luckily, catching both of them from being actually hurt when they hit the ground.

Patton’s arms snaked around Roman’s chest, rolling over and sitting up as he did so, ending up with Roman held firmly against his chest and and in his lap. “Nope!” He declared, setting his head on top of Roman’s. “You are not giving yourself hypothermia too!”

“But Patton!! Cuddles!!” Roman whined, attempting to escape Patton’s grasp and failing miserably. Patton only pulled them closer to his chest before standing up, eliciting a yelp from Roman as he used his tight grip on Roman to carry them all the way over to the couch. Patton sat down on the end opposite of Logan and Remy, ignoring their matching amused smirks as he set Roman back down in his lap, hold on them still gentle but tough.

“You can have all the cuddles you want without getting yourself sick.” Patton berated lightly, moving to tuck Roman closer against him, pressing a small kiss into their hair as he did so.

“But- but Patton, the drama!” Roman protested, seemingly not content with the fact that they had already gotten the cuddles they sought, now focused on the dramatics and fanfare of nearly freezing to death instead. Remy chuckled as the couple play fought, which mostly involved Roman trying and failing to escape Patton’s arms.

“Do you think they’ve noticed…?” Remy asked his own boyfriend, glancing over at the tv screen that was now counting down the final minute of the year, the Ball having begun to make its annual descent.

Logan watched the ‘quarreling’ couple for a moment before he answered, noticing how Roman’s eyes were focused on the door whereas Patton’s were flashing between the countdown and his beloved. “I think one of them does, yes, but not the oh-so-charming prinx.”

“Good.” Remy said. “I like when they get their romance thrown in their own face. If we get lucky, Roman will be so caught off guard they’ll be quiet for the rest of the night.”

“Now that would be a true New Year’s miracle.” Logan commented with a grin.

“Y’know what else would be a true New Year’s miracle?” Remy asked as he shifted, moving so that he was more facing Logan, loosely draping his arms over Logan’s shoulders. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Getting kissed by a star.”

Logan smirked right back at Remy, well aware the count-down was approaching its final ten seconds as he tugged his boyfriend closer. He stopped barely a breath from Remy’s lips, waiting for the year to truly begin as he filled the final few seconds with a murmured, “Then I must be the most miraculous man in the world, getting to kiss you every day.”

And if Remy turned a shade red at that, that was alright, because then there was an explosion of noise crackling from the tv just as Logan closed the rest of the gap between them, and both of them were entirely too busy paying attention to their first kiss of the year than silly details.

And if that meant they missed the moment where Patton cut Roman off halfway through another ridiculous explanation about why Patton really should let them go freeze for just a few minutes with a kiss, Roman too distracted to respond outside of kissing him back, perfectly red by the time Patton pulled back, grinning from ear to ear as he peppered his partner’s still shocked face with even more kisses, than that was alright too.

After all, it was just the beginning of the year. There’d be plenty of time for more kisses, blushes, and flusters to come.

[thedollarstoresatan]

The Truth Betold

Chapter 4, ???, ???, 1883, May 27th, 9:16 P.M.

    Animals surrounding her, the woman floating above the earth. The cape hanging off a tree by her fluttered in the wind. The cold shiver of the forest did nothing to help her burning body. One of the rabbits came under her, sniffing the air around her before backing away again. A tiger stalked its way around her, herding off the other animals behind the nearby treeline. 

    It’s teeth gripping onto the cape, the tiger swiftly pulled it down in time for her to descend back into the earth. Lowering herself from her toes up, she let the tiger drop the cape back into her hand. A tattoo, of a moon with a shuriken standing upside in the middle, air-like movements behind them decorated her shoulder. 

    Turtleneck not covering her arms, with white pants with a holster holding a rod-shape, two black gems decorating the top and bottom, with a singular one in the middle. Her shoes were black with a corresponding design in the middle, flaps coming down on the sides, leading to a slim heel. Silver eyes looking at the now herded animals, her long black hair cascaded down her back. 

    “You do have a trick for scaring away other animals, Leona.” Petting the tigers head she smiled fondly. Hooking the tip of the hood under her finger and slinging it on her shoulder, she walked deeper into the forest. 

    Coming across a clearing, she smiled at the ‘empty’ space. Leona once again stalked up to her. “Enquêter.” Turning her back on the space, leaving the tiger to proll around, she walked back towards the shallower part of the forest. 

    “Ash! Sortir!” The woman looked at the man emerging from the brush beside her.

    “Bonjour, Mademoiselle.” 

    “Where’s Zen?” 

    “East side of the Red Territory, towards the Bright family home.”

    “Most likely trying to find Ezra, then.” 

    A strangled yell came from the opposite direction. Not towards where Leona was, not towards the central quarter, not towards anywhere besides the lake of tears. Soon following the Magic Tower. “Do you think they already know of us here?”

    “Yes. Leo made it impossible to miss. So did Louis.” Sighing while pinching the bridge of her nose, the hushed tone of her voice didn't go unnoticed by Ash. “We’ll be lucky if they dont get one of us. They still have plenty of magic left from others I assure you.”

    “Leo is the most important.” 

    “Yeah, yeah.” 

    Stealing a glance at the tattoo, she threw the cape over her shoulders, covering down to her wrists. “Let's go investigate that.” A fire emerged from her hand. 

    “Elizabeth, don't catch the forest on fire.”

    “Unlike some of you, I know how to control my powers.”

    The blue haired man scoffed at her, brown eyes narrowing. Stealing a glance at the distant lights, he continued after Elizabeth’s stead.

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

    Disguising themself farther into the darkness, the raven haired person stuck to the walls of the building, dodging the windows and prying eyes from anyone inside the estate. 

    Coming across the Library windows, they stole a glance inside. A middle-aged man sat on an armchair, pendulum ball hanging from his pointer finger as a woman looked at nearby books. 

    The man looked at the window, emerald meeting jade, before putting the pendulum ball down. 

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

    “Your friends here.” Claudius’s voice rang through the room. Turning her head in the direction Claudius was looking at, she saw them. 

    “Zen.” 

    Ezra held up her hand, making a gesture to come in, and turned back to the book section. A quick flash of light brought another person in the room. “Never met him before.” Glancing back at Ezra’s discarded coat and walking stick, Zen looked back at the titles surrounding them. “Nor have I ever seen you take that coat off.”

    “Saddening.” 

    Plucking out a book from the shelf, Ezra promptly walked and sat leg-crossed on the couch opposite of the man. “You’re a mess right now, where have you been, hell?” 

    “I wish.” 

    Hair standing up in loose strands, dirt spread across their uniform, Zen looked like they had been dragged through a mud pit. Sitting down cautiously on the couch, Zen looked over Ezra’s shoulder, only to find scripted characters they couldn't even begin to understand. Symbols and pictures surrounded the pages.

    “You won’t be able to understand it.” A chime of a clock came from the hall. “It's in an old demon scripter.” 

    “Well… Isn't that a lovely thing to keep in your house.” Responding to Claudius’s statement with the most gracious voice he could muster, Zen cleared their throat before sitting up. 

    “Do you know what this might mean?”

    Holding the pendulum ball up once again, Claudius looked Zen dead in the eyes. Averting their gaze from the ball and back up into jade irises, Zen only cleared their throat again. “I can only roll out the possibility it's an old Eltrius scroll. They often resembled a ball. Most of them, if you used a certain combination of spells would unlock. Meaning it most likely came from Scarlet, if i'm right.” 

    “You are.” 

    Holding out her hand, Claudius dropped the small ball into her palm. “Do you know the combination to unlock it, then?” 

    “Sadly enough, no, but Emila or Leo might. They’re the closest to her.” 

    “Leo’s currently trying to avoid cradle, and Emila wouldn't dare to make any decisions leading to her exposure. I wouldn't be able to track them without magic, and considering how many people are currently around this area? Not a good idea.” 

    “Right, somebody with enough magical power could feel it. Got it.” 

    “Go take a bath. I’ll try and find clothes for you.”

    “Right, thanks.” 

    Once Zen left, Claudius turned back to Ezra. “I'm not sure I like him.”

    Closing the rather demonic book, Ezra stood up and strided towards the door. “You haven’t ever liked any of my friends, and he’s non-binary, so its ‘them’.”

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

    “Oh what a mess!” The pout that was put on Ash’s face didn’t meet his eyes. Hand on his hip, and the other pressed to his lips. Ash’s body was covered in blood. Bloodied hands, bloodied clothes. Not like it's Elizabeth’s first time seeing him like this. 

    “I have to erase her memory due to you killing them.” The scoff sounded Ash’s way didn't affect him. 

    Something was running towards them, at a rather fast pace, they could both feel it. Though, it was great at hiding its presence. “Leona.” Next thing Ash knew, Elizabeth’s Martilel was in her hand, spinning  a few times before stopping and extending. The tiger came sprinting out of the forest, white coat shining in the moonlight, golden eyes reflecting off of it. A man soon after. Silver eyes bore into his, holding the Martilel out. 

    “Now, now, girlie’s. I'm not here to hurt you. Hand over the tiger and we’ll leave you alone.”

    It was only then that Elizabeth noticed the bodies were gone. Most likely buried deep in the ground by now due to Ash’s power. 

    “Excuse me? “Girllie’s?” I am a man through and through you toddler!” The blue haired man’s eyes shone a dangerous light, brown eyes  lighting up and iris’s slimming into a diamond. 

    The male only scoffed. “Yeah right, you got all the curves in all the right places! Now give me the tiger!” The man growled, only making it a step before the ground caved in under him. 

    Nearly breaking his legs, the earth was unforgiving. Squeezing up to his waist. 

    “I'm a man.” 

    “Help me you fool!”  The man’s angered voice only made Ash’s cheshire smile widen. 

    Crouching down in front of the man, Ash put his elbows on his legs, hands on the side of his head, 

    “I-m a m-a-n. Say it with me now! I'm a man!”

    “Help me!” 

    The ground only tightened around him. 

    Getting up, Ash skipped in circle’s around the man, chanting ‘I'm a man’ over and over again, watching in delight as the man screamed towards Elizabeth’s direction, whose attention was brought back to the boy sitting unconscious against a tree. 

    The man, now neck-deep in the ground, shot daggers at ash. 

    “You crazy ass bitch! Let me go!”

    “What am I! I'm a man!”

    “And you sir.”

    Stopping in front of him, crouching again, coming up close to his face, Ash’s smile widened at his obvious struggle.

    “Are a man, with an idiotic mind."

    Before another word could be exchanged, the man let out a blood-curdling scream before getting engulfed by the ground completely. Bones audible cracked under the surface. 

    “The worms appreciate it.” 

    Smile not leaving his face, Ash turned around and sat by Elizabeth, who had the child sleeping on one shoulder, Leona on her lap, and was staring into the oblivion. “Now i'm happy I never got that surgery! Afterall, it means more people to kill!”

    His irises changing back to normal, and the soft glow of his brown eyes subsided, he clapped his hands out of sheer delight. “I wonder how an organ would taste?” Curiosity crossing his face, Ash put his finger on his mouth again, dried blood making its way into his mouth. 

    “If you find out, please to god don't tell me.” Delighted laughter erupted from Ash’s throat, as he looked at Elizabeth, happiness relevant in his eyes. Cheshire smile now gone and replaced with a real smile of genuine happiness. 

    “Thats a rare occurrence.” 

    “Awe! Don't say that! I smile plenty!”                                                     

    “Ouais, Ouais. Sure ya do.”

[xmr-deity]

Oh Deer

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Male!Animagus!Reader

Words: 1,896

Universe: Wizarding World (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)

Summary: (Y/n) gets a bad owie and Newt helps him out.. They become buddies and more.

It was cold and rainy outside, as usual in England. Newt was on his way home, watching his boots splash through the shallow puddles on the pavement. He was almost to his flat, passing an alleyway when he suddenly heard a desperate noise. It was like a whine, but definitely not from a dog or a cat. Newt immediately jumped slightly and stopped, dropping everything and slowly going into the alleway.

Near the other side he saw a crumpled figure, and as he approached it he realized it wasn’t a person, it was a deer. As he approached- slowly and a bit crouched, of course- he could make out a guess of what kind of deer. Most likely a Sika deer, multitudes of thin, white spots speckling it’s brown coat. The noise it was making was like a high-pitched sounding ‘eeeeee,’ that could even sound like a baby crying if you listened for it.

“Hey, It’s alright, it’s alright..” Newt said calmly and softly, going and sitting down next to the deer and holding his hands out so it could see he bore no ill will. The deer let out another noise then apprehensively gave his hand a small sniff then a tiny lick.

“Hey there, little guy…” He said softly, gently stroking the deer’s head once. He then scooted around to look at the rest of it’s body, “oh, no.. what happened to you..” Newt saw blood dripping down from one of it’s legs and it’s side. There were large gashes- claw marks- in it. It was a miracle this animal had escaped whatever had attacked it, and how in the world did it get this far into the city?

Newt being Newt, he couldn’t just leave this deer to bleed out and die in an alleyway.

“I’m gonna help you, alright? It’s gonna be alright, I’m not going to hurt you..” He said, his voice ever calm and soft as he scooped up the deer. One surprising thing was how small it was, though it’s large antlers indicated it was fully grown.

Newt carried it inside his flat, hoping none of the neighbors noticed. They might call animal control or the police or something dumb like that. He walked to where he’d left his case, setting the deer down for a moment to unlock it and step in, picking the deer back up. All the while the animal made the pained whines and noises, each time breaking Newt’s sweet heart.

He carefully set the deer down on a medical table he had set up in his briefcase of wonders. He immediately got to work, cleaning the blood and applying antiseptic- which the deer did not like- then healing potions and ointments then wrapping it all in bandages. The deer soon fell asleep and so Newt went and found something it could eat, grabbing some leaves off a tree and bringing them to the table so the deer could eat it when it woke up.

He went and tended to other fantastical beasts in his sanctum before returning to the hut when he was about ready to go to sleep. He found the deer was now laying on the bed, leaves untouched on the medical table. Newt found that.. a little odd, but before he could think too hard about it the deer lifted it’s head and gave a pitiful, little bleat at him.

Newt though for a moment then sighed, finding himself not wanting to leave the deer alone. He shrugged off his coat and undid his bow tie, setting then on a chair before kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed next to the little deer. It snuggled toward him face first, (luckily, because he didn’t fancy getting skewered by horns in the middle of the night).

Within 20 minutes Newt was fast asleep, and so was the deer, cuddled up in each other’s warmth..

****

Newt Scamander’s eyes flickered slowly open as his internal alarm woke him up. The warmth of the bed and the body close to him was very comforting, despite the uncomfortable clothes he still wore. At first, he didn’t realize a difference, assuming it was the deer he must have forgotten he’d cuddled up with.. but then he realized deer didn’t have messed of (h/c) hair.

Soon (y/n)’s eyes fluttered open, large (e/c) eyes framed by dewy eyelashes stared up at him with wonder and a bit of alarm. Newt would have shouted if he was more awake, but he just gasped in surprise and sat up, scrambling out of the bed. (Y/n) sat up as well, yawning a bit before he stretched his arms above his head, his back arching slightly before he flinched in pain. Newt recognized the bandages he’d put on the deer the night before, wrapped around the boy’s torso and arm, stained with blood.

“Wh-Who.. Who are you??” He questioned, pointing his wand at the stranger in his bed. (Y/n) tilted his head slightly, staring up at Newt with big eyes still.

“I’m (y/n),” he said simply, voice soft. This boy in his bed looked like a deer god rather than a regular wizard.. his skin seemed to glow in the morning light, the sheets wrapped almost elegantly around his waist- which Newt noticed was completely bare aside from the bandages.

“(Y/n)..” he said softly, trying to process this, “you’re.. an animagus?” He lowered his wand a little as (y/n) nodded.

“I must thank you for saving me last night.. I definitely would have died had it not been for you. I owe you a great deal.” He said, scooting forward on the bed a little, the sheet starting to come loose.

That spurred Newt into action, a soft blush on his cheeks now as he scrambled about, grabbing spare clothes and bringing them over to (y/n).

“You can.. wear these.” Newt said, glancing down and away a couple times. (Y/n) nodded and looked up at Newt expectantly, who hesitated before realizing.

“Oh. Right, I’ll just uh.. right.” He said, hurrying out of the hut.

“So.. what’s your name then?” (Y/n) asked from inside as he changed into the provided clothes.

“Ah, Newt.” He called back. There was a bit of silence before (y/n) came out of the hut, wearing Newt’s clothes. They looked really cute on him..

“Wow.. what is this place?” (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the multitudes of fantastic creatures and beasts.

“This, well.. this um.. it’s my little sanctum, I guess.. I protect lots of.. creatures and keep them safe here..” Newt responded.

“That’s amazing,” (y/n) said in awe, walking ahead to look around more, “they’re all so cool!”

Newt hurried after him, making sure he didn’t get himself hurt or anything on accident. There were a few close calls, (y/n) of course not knowing the specifics of how to act around most of these creatures.

(Y/n) seemed to be in awe, as most people did when they came here. The boy yelped when he felt something jump onto his chest, looking down to find a niffler trying it’s best to pry the shiny buttons off of the coat Newt had given him. (Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh a little, prying the small animal off of him and looking at it sniff wildly and wriggle around.

“This is so cute, what is it?” He asked, looking over at Newt as he took the niffler.

“Oh, it’s- uh, this is a niffler. It’s very attracted to shiny things..” He said, going and returning it to its place. He turned back to (y/n) and stopped dead in his tracks, the boy’s bright (e/c) eyes shining in the soft light. Maybe he was attracted to shiny things too.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a scree sounded from another enclosure. (Y/n) immediately dashed away, going to find the source of the noise. Newt quickly followed, the same worries in mind.

“Woah…” (y/n) sighed as they approached the Thunderbird’s area, the majestic creature soaring around until it landed on it’s rock in front of (y/n).

“What in the world are you..?” (y/n) asked softly, extending his hand to let the bird inspect.

“That’s.. Ah, that’s a thunderbird. That’s Frank.” Newt answered when he caught up, looking worriedly at the sky that was seeming to darken.

“I need to get him out of this place.. It’s too small for him.” He said.

“Frank?” (y/n) paused, “That’s.. An interesting name for this thunderbird.” He said, gently stroking the magnificent beast’s head.

“Where do you plan to release him?”

“I’m planning a trip to America, to Arizona, more specifically.. So I can release him..” Newt said, going and getting some food for Frank.

“Here, let me help!” (Y/n) said, hopping over to Newt and helping feed Frank.

****

It had been a few months since that, and (y/n)’s story had been revealed. He’d started training to be a professor at Hogwarts, but apparently he’d gotten on someone’s bad side and - long story short- he’d been framed for the disappearance of a student and had to run into the forest, got hurt, and then apparated into that alleway.

Also (y/n) never wanted to go to America again. Not with that crazy obscurus debacle. He’d sort of become an assistant to Newt, helping care for and feed the animals.

(Y/n) had started feeling.. Feelings start to arise, and the longer he spent with Newt the worse it got. It got to the point where that was all (y/n) could think about, and things between him and Newt kept getting more and more awkward. So, today was the day (y/n) was determined to confess.

Newt was feeding the little occamies when (y/n) approached, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“Uh.. Hey, um, N-Newt..” He said softly, prompting the occamy covered man to turn to look at him, “I.. have something to tell you..”

“Oh, just a second,” Newt said, realizing whatever it was must be serious. He quickly finished up with the little occamies and pried them from his arms, putting them back in their nest. He turned back to (y/n) and straightened his clothes.

“What’s going on, (y/n)?” He asked.

(Y/n) took a deep, shuddery breath, looking everywhere but Newt. This was terrifying.

“I.. I think I like you.” He managed to force out, his eyes going wide at what he’d just said, and the expression on Newt’s face didn’t help. The man looked distressed, shifting around briefly before he hesitated.. Then grabbed onto (y/n)’s shirt and pulled him close, pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened even more, a hot blush spreading across his cheeks before he grabbed onto Newt and deepened it. It was a full minute before the two managed to separate, their breaths coming out in soft huffs.

“I think I like you too.” Newt responded, and (y/n) huffed out a laugh. The two kissed again, pulling each other as close as they could, like the other might disappear if he let go.

(Y/n) and Newt really did live happily ever after…

But then Grindelwald escaped.

[courtflint-blog]

Bhrams and the Cave

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scraaaaatch.

The long dagger gouged shallow scrapes into the stone. "Come. On." Bhrams again tried to wedge his dagger into a crevice between the mouth of the cave and the boulder occupying it. "This boulder wasn't even here before. At least I didn't see it. Did you see it?" He looked at the glowing orb of magical light that hovered near his head for an answer. "No I guess you didn't. You're just a light spell."

 The dagger slipped from his sweaty palm and clattered to the hard-packed dirt. He sighed and sat back on his heels to examine the rock a little closer. Brute force didn't seem to be doing the trick. His trowel was already broken beside him and if he kept going this way, his dagger would end up just as busted.

The lanky young man pushed himself up from the ground and a hiss escaped from between his teeth at the effort. He lifted his left forearm to his eyes. The bandage was holding, but spots of blood were beginning to seep through. Was it time to channel his magic into healing? Doing so would use the bulk of his magical energy for the day and Bhrams had no way to know how long it would take to move this boulder or what else might happen before he was able to. He shook his head at the bandage and turned his eyes to the stone before him. A wave of his good hand sent the light spell nearer to the stone for a closer look.

"Well," Bhrams interrogated the rock, "do you have runes, a magic word, a song for a bard to sing to you?"

It didn't answer.

"Fine," he narrowed his eyes at it. "I have my ways." Bhrams bent and retrieved his dagger with his good hand and started again on the seam in the stone, higher this time."Why...," he dug into the split between rock door and frame, "won't you move? Why? Why do the Gods themselves frown on me?" The dagger wouldn't find purchase; he pulled back and tried again. "First I fall in front of the goblins, then one cuts me, now this. Why?"

His answer came not from the stone in front of him, but deep from within the cave behind him. A wet squelch, not unlike a slug being plucked from a garden wall, traveled from the deep darkness of the path below the cave. Gooseflesh rose on his neck.

"H-hello?" he whisper-called over his shoulder. Nothing new answered him, or emerged from the darkness. The light from his  spell fell on the corpses of the two goblins he had slain, one still clutching the short sword that had sliced so cleanly into his left arm.

"Well it wasn't you guys...wait," he narrowed his eyes at the bodies. "Does this dungeon have a Goo? No one said anything about a Goo, just a small goblin nest and the tiara." He scowled at the sickly grey-green bodies as they refused to answer.

"It better not be a Goo down there!" he called down into the darkness, deepening his voice to scare off whatever it was. "And if it is, well..." he finished the thought inside his head, too worried about the possibility of a magical monstrosity coming to dispose of the goblin corpses to keep talking to them.

He finally wedged his dagger into the crack between the solid stone of the cave and the rock blocking the door. He tested it, pulling the handle toward himself to push the rock out of the way. It felt true. Bhrams steadied himself with a long breath, gripped the handle with all the strength left in his good hand, and pulled.

Snap.

He heard the metal break off at the hilt just a second before his head bounced off the hard floor of the cavern.

Then all he saw was black.

...............

Bhrams blinked his eyes open only to find blackness. He must have been out for over an hour if the light had dissipated. An acrid smell wafted into his nostrils and a slug fell from the cave wall near him.

Wait, there were no slugs in here before.

Cupping his hands together, Bhrams concentrated on bringing back the light. He was tired to his core, and flexing the mental muscle to pull forth the magic was more difficult this time than the last. He needed rest soon. Warmth flowed into his hands from the magic in his blood and a yellow glowing orb filled his palms. It rose to level with his eyes and hovered near his ear. The young man took a breath to steel himself and looked back over his shoulder.

Goo, that was definitely a Goo. A gelatinous blob taller than the human even when he was standing, and just as wide. In the light spell it looked a sour green color, and the goblin bodies floating within it took on the same green cast. Bubbles formed on their grey-green skin, their clothes, and their weapons as the magical acid digested the dead material. Good thing Goos never went for the living.

He stood carefully, his body sore and head throbbing from the strain of this strange day. "You know," he cast a sidelong glance to his light, "other magicians can do more than just a light spell. I've seen conjured vases and boxes and urns. I've seen arrows and swords and ballistas made of nothing but magic. And what are you?" he swiped at it, but his hand found no purchase. "Just a light."

He flexed his hand in the light, taking in the dark spatter of goblin blood across his skin. Surely not enough? He looked down at his leather coat and wool clothes. Covered, he was completely covered in blood and flecks of flesh.

Slurp. The Goo moved an inch closer.  

"No no no no" he turned back to the stone covering the entryway and dug at it with his fingers. "Lemme out," he pled with the rock. "Pleasepleaseplease lemme out..." The smooth stone did not reply, neither giving him handle nor opening to work with.

He beat at the stone blockage with his fists. He might as well have been swiping at the light again for all the good it did. The Goo fizzled and slurped inching its way closer to the gristle that covered Bhrams. "Okay," he huffed, fists against the rock, "okay. I can buy time. I can figure this out." He stripped off his heavy leather duster and looked at it with a grimace, eyes roving over the heavy stitches and patches to cover years of constant use and the wear and tear that could only come from an adventuring teenager. He would miss it.

Turning toward the Goo, he surveyed the cavern the best he could by the light that hovered near his head. Bhrams balled up the coat, cast another glance at the Goo, and threw the duster away from him in a high arc. It landed with a thud behind the Goo.

The magical aberration froze, swaying side to side. Bhrams pressed his lips together, praying that the monster would go for the coat. Slowly, so slowly that he first thought he was imagining it, Bhrams watched the Goo slip backward by an inch. Then another. It moved toward the blood and sinew covered jacket.

Bhrams let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He dropped to one knee and grabbed his travel bag from where it leaned on the wall. The young adventurer tore through it looking for anything that could help pry loose the boulder. A bundle of jerky, a coin bag with a few loose copper and silver pieces, a bundle of rope, the tiara he had been sent here for in the first place. Nothing particularly helpful.

He repacked the bag, this time including the broken pieces of trowel and dagger that a rural blacksmith might be convinced to give him some coin for, and slung it onto his shoulder.

The Goo slurped behind him, rolling its mass onto the leather coat. The coat floated up between the goblin corpses began bubbling with them.

Bhrams looked down at his shirt and pants. Once the dusty tans of regular traveling clothes, they were now blotched dark red and black and brown from his fight with the goblins. As was the bandage around his wounded left arm.

The Goo burbled again, not sated with its meal and needing to continue the task of cleaning up the cave. It moved toward Bhrams. His heart raced faster with each inch the aberration crawled. A lump of fear rose in his throat.

He looked to his light and pushed the fear back down. "Okay, okay, time to make my own blade. If even fucking Vesryn can do it, I can do it." He turned his back on the Goo, standing tall focused before the boulder blocking his way. There, right in the center was a fissure that he could dig a magical dagger into. Hopefully. He summoned a mental image of Vesryn,his most annoying rival in all of their magical studies.

Eyes closed, heat filled the magician's hands. "Blade of light," he whispered, eyes screwed closed," blade of light, blade of light, blade of magic, blade of light." Bhrams peeked his eyes open. Between his hands floated a plain dagger made of yellow light, as though the one that bounced beside his head had gained a more certain form. "Ha!" he reached for the handle. He grasped only air. A frustrated growl rumbled from his throat and Bhrams looked back at the Goo. It was less than two paces from him.

"Nonono," he tossed his bag to the ground again and stripped off his shirt. Perhaps he could buy just a little more time to figure the spell out. He balled the wool and tossed it to the side of the Goo for another distraction. The creature paused for a second, considering, then slithered to the side to find the pile of blood and fabric that Bhrams had thrown.

He sighed again and reached for his bag strap. This chance would probably be his last, else he would have to lead the Goo into the depths of the cave to find another way out. The flap of the travel bag had fallen open and his broken dagger blade lay on the ground next to it. With a huff, Bhrams picked up the metal piece to put it back in the bag.

The dagger blade was cold and hard in his hand, the edge sharp. Everything he needed his magic to be. The magician's eyes widened in realization. He was holding the focus that he needed. He wrapped his left hand tightly around the blade and pressed his eyes closed. The sharp edge dug into his skin, the hard metal forced his hand to form around it, the cold took on his own body heat. He took these sensations and forced them into his right hand, willing his magic to create something that was not only dagger-shaped but also just as sharp and dangerous.

Warmth came to him first, then hardness, and finally a sharp edge. Both hands felt equal bite of blade edge cutting into them. Afraid that he would loose the conjured blade if he so much as looked at it, Bhrams drew back both hands above his head and swung them down into the stone as hard as he could. His left hand, the broken blade, bounced off of the wall uselessly. The conjured dagger stuck. He opened his eyes.

The ground below him trembled and the boulder shifted forward and to the side.

Bhrams scrambled out of the cave where the Goo would not follow. He could feel dirt and grass below him, a breeze blew against his bare chest and raised gooseflesh on his arms. Pre-dawn light tinged the edge of the sky a grey-blue. Bhrams put his head between his knees and evened out his breath. "Thank you," he murmured to himself, the light, the magic, the Gods, whoever would hear him. "Thank you, than-" His words left his throat as a shadow fell over him. Cast by a creature at least one and a half Bhram's height with limestone skin and burning red eyes, the shadow (awkward sentence)blocked out what little light there was to see by.

A mountain troll, a very, very large mountain troll stood surveying him. A dagger made of golden light stuck out from the creature's shoulder.

A deep growl issued from the stone creature, and it pulled back its lips to show teeth each as long as the human's hand.

"Oh, um, hi there," Bhrams slowly got himself to his feet. "It seems you have something of mine."

The troll's growl grew louder, one giant arm slowly drawing back.

"Okay, yeah, keep it," Bhrams turned on his heel, grabbed his back to secure it, and took off at a sprint toward the treeline. "Have a great day!"

 Later, he would write some notes on this job in his journal:

●  No more solo jobs, even if it means cutting the take

●  Keep flint and steel around

●  ASSUME EVERY CAVE HAS A GOO

[yoosungiib]

Everything For Him - Seven x Reader(MC)

You and Seven have been married for a few months, and you are expecting your first child. The two of you are beyond the simplicity of ‘excitement’. Seven is finally getting the happy ending he thought he would never get… but in the blink of an eye, everything can be taken away in. It’s up to Seven to hold on to what he has, and realize, danger is not something anyone can ever escape or ever defy.

~~~

Important: Tense switches halfway through the fic.

y/n: your first name

h/c: your hair colour

e/c: your eye colour

~~~

It is a summer’s day when the two newlyweds walked along the streets, hand in hand, happiness radiating off of them to those passing by. The husband, a spunky redhead tickled the woman's sides, relished in her giggles and weak attempts to tickle back. The wife, the perfect picture of beauty with her (h/c) hair and plump, pink lips, five months pregnant. The woman kissed the redhead's cheek and wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

“Saeyoung,” The woman whispered into the red-head’s ear. The man grinned, cheekily, and hummed a response. “Have I told you yet today that I love you?”

The man, Saeyoung, laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t think you have. That’s really sad to me. I guess I’ll just have to tickle you more.”

Another man walked down the street towards the young couple, his face and body hidden in black clothing, the only thing that can be seen were his indigo eyes and brown locks. As the man got closer and closer, Saeyoung squinted, the indigo eyes pulling something in his memory. He recognized the man, or moreover, the eyes, as a member at the agency Saeyoung once worked for. The world for the young couple changed in that single moment. Before Saeyoung could act, the man walking towards them had pointed his pistol at the young wife, and it was not the loud shot that could be heard across the country, but the scream of trepidation that enlisted from the husband as he watched his wife fall to the ground.

With no hesitations, however, Saeyoung sprinted after the man who started to run away. The man with the indigo eyes did not get very far since Saeyoung tumbled onto him, screaming at him while shaking his shoulder against the ground. People rushed over; a few go to aid the wife who laid unconscious on the gravel ground, and others go to pry Saeyoung off the man. When Saeyoung was finally pulled away, he turned towards his wife and his face turned a bleach white. Stuttering and walking feverishly, he fell beside his wife and sobbed.

She was alive, and the sirens could be heard in the distance, but her stomach bleed profoundly and the baby was presumed dead.

Thank god that wasn’t the case. When the wife was rushed to the hospital and sent into surgery, the doctor came back with the good news you and the baby would survive. There was no sigh of relief or joy from Saeyoung. He responded with silence as he stared off into space, the wheels in his brain spinning as he came to a conclusion with what he must do.

He looked through the window at his wife laying on the hospital bed, asleep with a content smile on their face knowing her and the unborn child are alright. His hand hovered over the doorknob before finally opening the door and being greeted by a rush of cold air and an ominous beeping sound. Saeyoung looked down at his wife from across the room before sitting in the chair placed next to her bed. Tenderly, he moved the loose strands of (h/c) hair that had fallen into her face. His fingers lingered over her soft cheeks, caressing gently.

Saeyoung took her hand and laid a kiss to her palm. His breath was shaky, and his voice cracked as he whimpered, “God, I’m so sorry.” He frantically wiped at his tears, not wanting anyone to see his sniveling face, or his sobs to wake you. “This would never have happened if you never choose me. You should have choose someone else.

“I didn’t protect you,” he concluded. “You don’t deserve this. A life where you’re forever at risk. You and the baby.” He touched her stomach and carefully trailed his hand up and down. The baby was definitely alive; he felt a small kick, and he chuckled. But it was not a happy a chuckle, it was a chuckle loathing a reality he saw, and the reality could not include him. He stood up and leaned over to kiss his wife's forehead. He took off his ring and put it on the bedside table. “I love you, (f/n).”

The plan was to slip through the door, leaving her to rest until she woke up and saw he wasn’t there, and he wasn’t coming back. Saeyoung was going to avoid the RFA members waiting in the hall to see her, and walk out the hospital doors, and never be seen again. He was going to get in his car, drive to a church and pray for forgiveness. And then he’d find a secluded area outside of town, where he would end it-

“Saeyoung?” He stopped midway to the door, his breath hitching. He covered his mouth to stop a sob from escaping. Saeyoung slowly turned around to face his beautiful wife who struggled to sit up. When she saw his face was as red as his hair and that his glasses were smudged, her face softened. “Honey, don’t cry. I’m ok. We’re ok.” She rubbed her stomach, smiling. “We’re all ok.”

Saeyoung didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Even after being shot on the street because of his carelessness, because of his job, she still seeked to comfort him, and she still opened her arms lovingly to him.

“Will you hold me please?” She asked. Her voice was so soft and sweet. He walked to the other side of the bed, gingerly getting on top and wrapping his arms around her small form, careful not to hurt her, and pulled her close to him. Leaning against the headboard, his head fell back to hit the wall. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on her shoulders while she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his steady heartbeat, and it gave her comfort.

He stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. She looked up, her eyes wide, curious to why he stopped. She moved to gently touch his cheek, but he turned his face away. She was confused as to why he wouldn’t take her affection. “I’m leaving,” he said.

At first, she just stared at him, bemused. She then laughed thinking Saeyoung was joking. But by the way his face stayed cold, her laugh became awkward. “Please don’t make jokes like that. You know I don’t like those-”

“I’m not joking.”

She pushed herself off of Saeyoung, not harshly, but enough to make him grimace, and she squinted her eyes. “What do you mean you’re not joking?”

“I mean, I’m leaving, (f/n),” he snapped, “I’m going.”

“Why would you say that?” she shouted. Her voice had raised profoundly. There was no gradual raises, but an immediate turn from soft to hard. “How could you say that?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Saeyoung moved off the bed, pulling his arm out of her grasp.

She tried to get off the bed but with some pain in her abdomen and being hooked to some machines, she could hardly swing your legs off the bed. “We are having a baby together, Saeyoung, and you are talking like this? I thought we were done with this. You being cold and thinking you are a risk to me. After everything we went through together, why are you doing this now?”

Her turned around with his face scrunched and his fists clenched. “So you are stupid? I nearly got you killed today.”

She lowered her voice, finally understanding why her husband was saying such things. “You’re blaming yourself for this? Why? This wasn’t your fault. It was just wrong place, wrong time-”

“You were shot by an agent at the agency I used to work for. This wasn’t just some guy walking down the street on a killing spree, you were targeted because you are my wife.” She stopped and connected the dots, and she stared at her hands and played with the ring on her finger. A tear slipped down her cheek; Saeyoung could not look at her.

“I still don’t blame you.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “well you should.” Slowly, he turned and headed back towards the door. His hand just touched the doorknob when she spoke.

“Please don’t leave me.”

She sounded so defeated, it was devastating for Saeyoung. He didn’t want to turn around and see her crying. He didn’t want to see her looking so broken anymore. Her voice was hardly above a whisper now: “I don’t want to lose you. We can work through this like we have before.”

Saeyoung’s laugh was as defeated as her voice. “How do I get you to see that there is no getting through this? I’m too dangerous to be your husband, and that was all proven today.”

“I knew what I was getting into marrying you. I married you knowing your past, I married you knowing you did dangerous work, and I married you because I love you. Why can’t that be enough for you to see we can?”

Once again, he turned to look at her, and he could see the paleness of her face, the crimson blush on her cheeks, and the hair he had fixed a mess again. That (h/c), soft hair he would run his hands through hours on when they cuddled in bed. He started to cry again, conflicted.

How could he leave when he saw her like this? “They know where we are, (f/n).” He sat down beside her and took her hands again, his tear slipped onto her skin. She rested her forehead against his and cried with him.

“Then we leave.”

Saeyoung cupped her cheek and looked into her (e/c) eyes. He saw so much through those eyes. They were so loving and welcoming. “You would give everything up like that? The house we have, the friends we have, the world we know, just to be with me?”

She nodded, and confirmed everything with a kiss, that she would give everything up for him.

You are discharged after two days of being in the hospital. Through those two days, Saeyoung is with you for every moment, and he makes up for every hurtful thing he may have said with kisses, cuddles, stories and laughs.

When you both go home, everything seems so quiet. Saeran is in his room, alone, and Vanderwood is busy cleaning up the house. The first person to know you two are leaving is Saeran. Mainly because Saeyoung wants to take Saeran with you guys. However, Saeran doesn’t want to leave, so of course, Saeyoung sells the house to Saeran. You feel bad knowing Saeyoung will be leaving his brother, and you express that, but Saeyoung assures you not to worry. When Vanderwood hears, he is a little annoyed -- only because he won’t have a place to stay. Sure, he could stay with Saeran, but even Vanderwood admits to being a little scared of him -- at first, but understands why, and doesn’t object.

A few days later, you and Saeyoung invite all the RFA members over for a get together, where you and Saeyoung plan to announce the plans for your departures. Everyone is happy to see you have recovered quickly and to hear the baby is doing well. An hour or so into the get together, Saeyoung rises and takes your hand. Before the words even leave his lips, he starts to cry realizing how much he will miss everyone, and how much he will miss this special organization. When you do finally announce it, besides Jumin, there isn’t a dry eye in the room.

Yoosung throws his arms around you and wails that he won’t have anyone to play LOLOL with him now. Zen pats Saeyoung’s back and gives him a ‘bro-hug’, telling him he’s done well. Jaehee surprisingly cries the most. She is incredibly close to you and doesn’t want to see you go. Jumin offers to pay for your travels and expenses, declaring it’s the least he can do for everything they have done for the RFA.

A week later, everything is packed, and you, your husband, and the RFA members stand outside the doors to the airport, giving your final hugs goodbye. When everyone leaves, the two of you stand outside for awhile. You pull out your ticket and stare at it. South Korea, to America. You look up at your husband to see him smiling, so you kiss his cheek and tickle his nose. He giggles and escorts you into the airport, his arm never once unraveling from your shoulder, and every so often, he would rub your stomach.

“Are you sure, babe? We can always turn back now. You… you don’t have to do this,” He asks before you get onto the airplane. You silence him with a kiss, a long one at that. You pull away and give him a small smile, tapping his glasses.

“I’m sure.”

Seven grins and scoops you up in his arms, running down the gate, pushing through the people. You giggle at his sentiment and kiss his cheek. “I 707, Defender of Justice, wholeheartedly swear to make this plane ride a nuisance for everyone!”

~~~

[midnightmeatsubway]

Working on some Obi-wan + Mandalorian armour stuff and having the time of my life