#i hate when i come out of hibernation and forget how to tag :(

[soupcarvroomvroom]

man do i lobe treekasa but hate backgrounds

[seokiloquy]

Table for Two - Tsukishima Kei

AU: Regular 

Requested (I changed it a tad...thank you for waiting)

Tags/ Warnings: FEM! Reader, mild unhealthy relationship, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mild swearing, angsty (?)

Word Count: 3.3k+

 You distinctly remembered asking the waiter for a table for two. 

But you sat, unsurprisingly, at the dinner table by yourself. It should have been surprising though, being stood up on your fourth anniversary with Tsukishima. 

The people around you glanced at you with faces full of pity. Especially the people who were nearing the end of their dinner and had gotten there after you. You were even at the point where you wanted to accept their pity — at least they seemed more interested in your relationship than Tsukishima did. 

You closed your eyes, trying to make the tightness in your chest go away. 

After a moment, you took out your phone again, hoping to see a message from him. There wasn’t one. You tapped on Tsukishima’s contact. Your fingers hovered over the call button. Would calling again make you seem clingy? You didn’t even want to check all the text messages you sent him. 

You shook your head and gritted your teeth. He was the one who should have been here. It’s his fault. You weren’t clingy or needy. You were an idiot for still being with him. 

“Excuse me,” the waiter said. You looked up and mustered the best smile you could even though you had a feeling you were going to be asked to leave. 

The waiter held up a plate. “This is on the house from those ladies over there.” He gestured over to the bar where two women sat. They were in deep conversation, whispering to each other. 

You weren’t one to pass on free food, but still, you had to ask, “Are you sure?” 

He nodded and placed the plate in front of you. “Enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” 

You ate happily by yourself. You ordered all of the food you wanted and a fancy drink —that was way overpriced— but you didn’t care. You made your own money, and you were going to spend it. 

Halfway through the desert and five fancy drinks later, which you were starting to think had some form of alcohol in it, you pulled out your phone again. You took another bite of the sweet treat and held the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Yamaguchi?” 

“Hey, (Y/N),” he said. “How was dinner?” 

“Well, dinner was great. The food was amazing and I think I ate so much I could go into hibernation.” 

“You sound happy,” he said. You could hear his smile through the phone. “And not that I don’t like talking to you, but why are you calling? Aren’t you out with Tsukki? It’s your anniversary isn’t it?” 

You laughed mirthlessly. “You remembered! A gold star for Yams!” 

He paused. “(Y/N)? Are you okay? Do you mean that—” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off, “you remembered my anniversary. I remembered my anniversary. But the other half of my relationship didn’t. Or he did and just didn’t care.” 

“(Y/N)—” 

“And this drink I’ve been drinking,” you continued, “it’s heavenly. Maybe I should get another one.” 

“How long have you been there?” 

“Two hours? Three hours? Maybe more? Should my time waiting count? I don’t think I should, otherwise that would just be sad.” 

He sighed.

“Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what?” His voice softened. 

“Pity me. Everyone at this restaurant is pitying me— the waiter, the hostess, those two girls who sent me food; I can see it in their eyes when they look over at me.” You closed your eyes and choked down a sob. “I don’t want to be looked at like that. Anniversaries are supposed to be happy…” You trailed off. “But this isn’t why I called you. Can you pick me up? I don’t think I should drive.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t. I have another class in 10 minutes. I hate night classes. I could send someone to pick you up though. Someone you know.”

“Sure. Why not? What have I got to lose?”

“(Y/N)...Just stay there okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning and we’ll go back to the restaurant to get your car.” 

“Thank you, Yamaguchi. You’re a great friend. I should have more friends like you.” 

He chuckled. “Thank you, (Y/N). You can repay me with your biology notes.” 

“Done,” you said, nodding your head. “And, Yams, before you go...” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think—I think I want to break up with Tsukishima.” 

“You’re going to do great,” Tsukishima said. He kissed you on the forehead and brushed back a loose strand of your hair. 

You frowned. “But what if I don’t get the job? What if I mess up? What if they ask me why I want the job and I start telling them the plot of (favourite show) out of nervousness?” 

His lips tugged into a smile. “Then they’ll have a new show to watch.” 

“Tsukki,” you groaned. 

He sighed. “If you don’t get this one, then you’ll get the next one. Either way, I’ll be right next to you each step of the way.” 

“Each step of the way,” you muttered. You had believed him then, but now, you couldn’t differentiate his truths from lies even if you were sober. 

Where did it all go wrong? 

You had paid the check already, but the waiter let you sit at your table until the person who was picking you up came. You felt like you had a special bond with the waiter. It wasn’t like he got to see something like this every night. You hoped you were at least a little entertaining to him. Maybe you should take this act out on the road. 

A soft hand landed on your shoulder. You turned and were met with a familiar head of bright orange hair; the one from your childhood and only separated from you after high school. 

“Hey Shoyo,” you smiled. “I thought you were in a different country…You were right? I can’t really remember right now. Did Yamaguchi call you? You came here really fast.” 

Hinata returned your smile with a gentle one of his own and let out a small laugh. “Hey (Y/N). And I was. I came back to visit my family for a bit. Let’s go. I’ll bring you home.” 

He helped you out of your chair and guided you to the door. You were a little taller than him, but he held you strongly, unwavering from his steps even though you leaned most of your weight on him. You couldn’t tell if you were doing that because of the alcohol or the fact that you felt so shitty, you couldn’t bring yourself to take the full weight of the walk. 

“He filled me in a little too,” he continued. “Tsukishima’s an asshole.” 

A sad smile made its way to your lips. “He wasn’t always one. I remember that much.”

Hinata glanced over at you but didn’t say anything. 

Once you were buckled into the passenger side of the car, Hinata circled the vehicle and sat in the driver’s seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. You reached out and grabbed his hand that was on the gear shift. 

“Please don’t take me home,” you whispered. You blinked back the tears that were threatened to come up. You hadn’t cried all evening and you didn’t want to start now. “I don’t want to go home. I live with Tsukki and I don’t want to see him.” 

He hesitated. “Are you sure?” 

You nodded and released your grip on his wrist. 

Hinata drummed on the steering wheel for a moment. “I’ll take you to my house. Is that okay? My sister is sleeping at her friend’s house, but my parents are there. They are probably sleeping now though.” 

You nodded again. “Thank you.” 

Yamaguchi waited anxiously outside of Tsukishima and your apartment. His class ended a bit earlier than usual and he wanted to see how you were doing. Your conversation had jarred him a bit. He never heard you sound so uncertainly sad about your relationship with Tsukishima. 

He was there when you two got together and whenever you spoke to him about your relationship, it had always been good things. Lately, though, you spent less time talking about Tsukishima and more about random topics going on. 

Yamaguchi thought it was strange, but didn’t say anything. However, today solidified what he was thinking.

Hinata had texted him earlier that you were at his house, not wanting to come back to the apartment, and he knew that Tsukishima —besides the dinner he missed— wasn’t doing anything tonight. 

“Tsukishima!” Yamaguchi yelled, banging on the front door. “Open the door! I know you’re in there.” 

He heard the rustle of footsteps behind the door and after a few moments, it opened. Tsukishima wore lounge clothes and his eyes were tired behind his askew glasses. His hair was messy and wet. “Need something?” 

“What have you been doing?” 

Tsukishima shrugged. “I just got back from volleyball practice and I took a shower. My phone died a bit though, so if you called beforehand, I didn’t get it. I’ve been waiting for (Y/N) to come back.” 

Yamaguchi bit the inside of his cheek, his hands balling into fists. “You’ve been waiting for (Y/N)? Do you know what day it is, Tsukishima?” 

Tsukishima opened his mouth to say something and then hesitated, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“It’s your anniversary with (Y/N),” Yamaguchi answered, his voice cold. “And I only know because she has been talking about it for days, Tsukishima, days. How could you forget?” 

Tsukishima closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath as if he was in pain. He muttered something under his breath that Yamaguchi couldn’t make out. “Do you know where she is? Is she still— is she still at the restaurant?” 

Yamaguchi blinked. “No, she called me to pick her up because she was drinking a bit. I couldn’t, but I sent Hinata to. She’s probably at his house now.” 

Tsukishima ran back into the apartment. When he came back to the door, he reached over to the table beside him and fumbled for his keys. He grabbed a pair of shoes, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

Tsukishima glanced up. “I’m going over to Hinata’s. I’ll talk to you later, Yamaguchi.” He started towards his car. 

Yamaguchi froze for a moment and then ran after him. He caught up to Tsukishima just as he got to his car. “Wait! Tsukki!” 

“I really need to go,” Tsukishima said, unlocking the car door. 

“(Y/N)” —Tsukishima angled his head at him at the sound of your name— “she said that she wanted to break up with you when I called her.” 

Tsukishima’s grip on the door handle tightened. “Thank you for not leaving her alone.” 

Yamaguchi took a step back from the door and let him speed off into the dark street. He hoped that the shadows wouldn’t catch up with Tsukishima as he made his way to (Y/N). 

Hinata looked at you carefully. After your exchange in the car, you hadn’t said a word. He wasn’t used to not hearing you talk. You were always the first to ask him about his day when you were in high school, and even now, whenever the two of you got a chance to talk to each other, you’d talk for hours. 

His parents were sleeping by the time the both of you reached his house. Hinata set you both up in his room. He had laid out the extra bed for you— the one that you would always use when you slept over— and pushed it beside his. You had gone to the bathroom to take a shower and once you finished, you sat beside him quietly as he took out his laptop and pulled up a streaming site. The opening credits of your comfort movie started. 

Halfway through the opening scene, you turned to face him. Hinata wasn’t even watching the movie; he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

You bumped your shoulder against his. “I’m okay. You can stop watching me.” 

He tore his gaze away from you and back to the screen. “It doesn’t seem like it. Yamaguchi sounded really worried when he called me.”

“Yamaguchi is worried about most things.” 

Hinata shrugged. “It was different this time.” He snuck another glance at you. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You scoffed. “Would you want to hear it?” 

“If it would help you, then yes.” 

You paused and watched the movie for a bit. After a moment, you reached out and paused the movie. You leaned back into the wall. 

Hinata turned his attention towards you. “(Y/N)?” 

“Normally, when he would miss out dates, he’d call or text me and I would go home.” You swallowed. “I didn’t mind because sometimes you just have to do things whether you wanted to or not and those dates would just clash with each other. Then I started planning them when he would have nothing, but I only got nothing in return. I spent so many nights at home alone, I was as good as single.” 

Your eyes burned. Your throat felt like it was going to close off at any moment. Hinata put his hand over yours, but you couldn’t meet his stare. Your voice wavered as you said, “I didn’t think he’d miss this one.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He gripped your hand tighter. “You don’t deserve that.” 

You wiped the back of your hand against your cheek. You played the movie again and rested your head on Hinata’s shoulder. 

“I know.” 

Tsukishima sat in his car outside of Hinata’s house. 

He held his phone tightly in his hand. He had been sitting there for the worse of ten minutes, scrolling through all the text messages that you had sent him that he missed. 

He was the worst person in the world. How could he forget his anniversary with you? He even remembered you telling him throughout the week all the details.

Life was catching up to him, Tsukishima thought, but his life also included you. 

There were no excuses. All that he could do now was apologize and see if it would be enough. 

She said she wanted to break up with you. 

He didn’t think it would. 

Tsukishima opened the car door. Slowly, he walked up to the front door. He raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but the door swung open before he could. 

Tsukishima blinked. “Hi.” 

Hinata nodded in acknowledgement. Though Tsukishima still towered over Hinata, he seemed more intimidating than Tsukishima remembered. Hinata’s eyes were set in a bored glare, like his time was better spent doing something else. 

“Did you know I was outside?” 

“I saw you through my window,” Hinata said. “I waited until you walked up to the door though. I don’t want you to wake up my parents by ringing the doorbell.” 

“Sorry,” Tsukishima mumbled. 

Hinata crossed his arms. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” 

“Can I— can I see her?” 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Hinata clicked his tongue. “At least not now.” 

“Hinata—” 

“She’s sleeping,” Hinata interrupted. His voice was cold and quick. “You really hurt her, Tsukishima. And it’s not up to me whether or not (Y/N) forgives you, that’s up to her. But, right now, she’s in my house; she’s tired and sad, and you can’t see her.” 

Tsukishima sighed and brought up a hand to rub his eyes. “Fine. Just tell her to come back home okay?” 

“I will.” 

Hinata took a step back and began to close the door. 

Tsukishima raised a hand to the door, stopping it just before it closed. Hinata’s eyebrows shot up and loosened his grip on the door. 

“Need something else?” 

“Put a lot of blankets on her.” 

“What?” 

Tsukishima swallowed and looked down. “(Y/N). She likes having a lot of blankets on her when she’s sad. She says it feels like a hug.” 

Hinata nodded and shut the door.

Your legs felt like lead as you walked up the steps to your apartment. 

After you woke up, Hinata’s parents made you breakfast and offered to let you stay as long as you liked. Even though you really wanted to, you were never someone to run away from your problems. It just sucked when the problem was with the person who was supposed to be your salvation. 

Yamaguchi had picked you up at Hinata’s house to drive you back to the restaurant where you had left your car. Both Yamaguchi and Hinata accompanied you there and wouldn’t leave until you reassured them that you were going to be okay no matter what the outcome was when you got home. 

Even if you left your apartment again that day with or without a relationship, you’d still have people who would care about you and that was enough. 

You twisted your key and opened the door. 

Tsukishima was sleeping on the couch, his head propped up on his hand and he was covered underneath a pile of blankets. 

You kicked off your shoes and walked over to him. 

“Kei,” you said, shaking his shoulders. “Wake up.” 

He jumped slightly as his eyes blinked open. The moment he caught your eyes, he threw the blankets off him and stood up. 

“Hi.” 

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

Tsukishima glanced behind him to where the door of your bedroom was. “It felt empty.” 

You bit your tongue. “At least you know how it feels.” 

He flinched and took a step away from you. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” 

“For what?” 

“For everything,” he said. Tsukishima raised his head to look at you. “For cancelling our dates, for missing our anniversary. For everything.” 

You raised your eyebrows dully. “One apology for months of treating me like crap? Do you even have a reason for flaking out on me? Is it even a good one?” 

“I was at volleyball practise.” 

A ball of rage filled your chest. “You were at volleyball practice every time you missed a date. You were practising a sport while I sat alone at a table for hours waiting for you yesterday. Is that what you’re telling me?” 

Tsukishima didn’t say anything. 

You closed your eyes. “Am I always going to come second to that? Cause if I am then. . .” You broke off, shaking your head. 

“You’re not,” he said. Tsukishima was breathing hard like he had been running. “You won’t ever be again. Please, (Y/N). Believe me.” 

You wanted to, you really did. But how long would it be until you would have this conversation again? Argue about the same things over and over again. You didn’t know if you’d be able to take it. As much as you hated feeling the way you did, knowing that you deserved better, you deserved what you wanted too. And you wanted Tsukishima. 

Would it be enough?

Hi everyone! I managed to squeeze some time in to write this one cause it was requested a while ago (really sorry about that). School sucks. Lots of work. The usual stuff. 

Hopefully you liked this one. I left the ending open because it was really hard for me to think of an ending for this...I know that sounds kind of bad, but there are a lot of ways this story could go. (Y/N) could choose to break up with them or not, but I kind of want to leave that up to you to decide because everyone has different feelings and experiences to this type of thing. 

I’ve never been in a relationship, so I wouldn’t really know. But I think that I would break it off… what would you do? 

As always, thank you for reading - Kiwi 

P.S. If I’m lucky and have enough time, the third part of the Language of Flowers is coming soon. It’s a long one. (If any of you are interested in that) 

[scullydubois]

Only the Light: Ch. 9

9/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: s2, ep 12, Aubrey | T (for now?) | 4.3k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic

Back in DC, Missy helps Scully get to the bottom of what's plaguing her. As Scully's journey gets a bit clearer, Missy drops a bombshell about her own life.

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

Scully’s stomach clenches as the plane touches down on the runway, jostling she and the rest of the passengers around like pawns in its game. Only forty-eight hours ago, she and Mulder had lifted off toward another mystery, another puzzle daring them to solve it. Now she is back, knowing scarcely more than she did then, with a mystery of her own to solve. She is forever chasing ghosts, and trying not to become one. 

As the winged giant rolls into its gate, Scully glances out the window. Thick clouds blanket the sky, an unending greyness rolling out over the city as far as the eye can see. So much for there’s no place like home. She’s been realizing lately that home is a feeling, not a location. Sometimes she feels like she needs a map to navigate her own apartment, or like everyone in DC knows some language she never learned. Well, almost everyone. There are a couple people who speak the same language as her.

And she’s about to see one of them now. The crowd of passengers--mostly suits who had sleepless nights-- stand up in their rows, ready to file out into the bureaucratic machine. The man on the outside of Scully’s row opens the overhead compartment and pulls down his bag and the carry-ons of Scully and the woman next to her. Scully thanks him demurely. She can’t remember the last time someone other than Mulder did that for her.

As they fall into line and shuffle off the plane, Scully wonders what her life will look like next time she boards a plane. With any luck, this will all be a fluke and she’ll be heading back to Aubrey tomorrow. Then again, even if it isn’t a fluke, she’ll still probably join Mulder back in Aubrey. She knows herself.

What would she say to him, then? Having to admit she lied about her reason for leaving, coming back with the type of news that turns worlds upside down...it doesn’t seem fair to him. It hasn’t been fair to her either, but that’s out of her hands.

She had knocked on Mulder’s door before the sun was even up. She hadn’t expected him to be awake, and so was particularly surprised when he came to the door with a towel around his waist. Evidently, he hadn’t expected her either (though who else is coming to his motel door at 6am?) because the longer she stood there in front of his barely dressed body, the more his color drained away. 

Needing a lie lame enough to be true, Scully told him that Melissa had sprained her ankle and would need some help getting around for a couple days.That she asked Scully to come home rather than go stay with their mother, because who better to be nursed by than a doctor? Mulder had nodded, told Scully to go, assured her he could handle BJ and the case. Scully is sure that Mulder knows what she told him is a lie. But he didn’t object, and that’s the permission she needed to feel settled with him and herself. 

She follows everyone off the plane, through the tunnel, and into the terminal. Moments like this remind her of her obsolescence in the universe, and she is somehow comforted by that. She is no chosen one, no messiah nor martyr, no mother of a holy child. She would like to stay that way.

She surveys the crowd waiting to pick up their beloved passengers. All of her fellow fliers, mere faces in her vicinity for an hour or two, are someone to somebody else. She is, too. They are all emerging from obscurity into a realm where they are known, for better or for worse. 

At the edge of the crowd, Scully catches her sister’s unmistakable smile and glowing red locks. She saw her sister only two mornings before, but Missy reacts as if they’ve been separated a lifetime. She engulfs Scully in a hug that just about sends the butterflies in her stomach into hibernation. 

“How are you feeling?” Missy asks, pulling away to scan her sister’s face for the honest answer she won’t give. 

Aware of this, Scully turns the corners of her mouth up. “I’m okay, really. My migraine went away at about four in the morning.”

“So you barely slept,” Missy interjects. 

Scully frowns. “Well, I laid in bed from roughly eight to six. There was sleeping involved at some point, I think.”

“How about on the plane? Did you sleep there?”

“No, you know I can never sleep with strangers around.”

“Oh, right. Did they teach you that at the Academy or something?”

“The things I saw at the Academy taught me that.”

“Oh.” Missy regrets bringing it up. As they head toward the luggage area, she holds out her hand, lets her sister place the handle of her carry-on in it. A silent apology, an acknowledged acceptance.

“So what did you end up telling Mulder?”

Scully is endeared that she has successfully chipped away at her sister’s tendency to call him by his first name.

“Oh god, you’re gonna think it’s so stupid.”

Missy laughs. “What did you say?”

Scully’s voice is rife with amusement. “I told him that you sprained your ankle and needed a doctor around to take care of you.”

Melissa bursts into laughter. “Good girl.” Scully would kick a man in the groin if he ever said that to her, but coming from her sister, it’s high praise.

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

They ignore the elephant in the room until they make it to Missy’s car. The plastic of a CVS bag rustles at Scully’s feet as she settles into the passenger seat. 

“Three pregnancy tests,” Melissa explains. “I stopped on the way.”

“You didn’t have to--”

“But I did.” That had been their father’s comeback whenever someone tried to, as he called it, ‘pity the helper.’ They both smile just a bit, their memory of him alive and well. 

“Can I pay you back?”

“No!” Missy insists. “I’m living with you rent free.”

Scully decides this is a good enough reason to let it go. She crosses her legs, watches her sister pull out of the space. She lets a question float around her head until they make it out of the labyrinth of airport side roads.

“Do you think I would be a good mother?”

Missy flicks her gaze toward her sister. Dana is peculiar in her way. Instead of fishing for sympathy like most people when they ask questions of this nature, she expects punishment. She’s practically asking to have a nail hammered into her cross. 

“You’d be a wonderful mother, Dana,” Missy soothes. “You’ve never had a bad intention in your life.”

“Haven’t I?...I killed a snake with Bill and Charlie once.”

“And you cried afterward. I remember seeing the tear stains on your face when you got home. Not to mention that you were what, five or six?”

“Well, what about Daniel? Surely my judgement was wrong there.”

Melissa sighs. “Okay, I’ll rephrase it. Any bad intention you’ve ever had was paid for with regret, and that’s not true about most people.” She frowns. “It’s always the purest souls who are the hardest on themselves.”

Scully stares through the windshield. She will expend no brainpower on her sister’s implication. She doesn’t believe it to be true. 

After a moment--“Do you remember those Raggedy Ann dolls we had, Betsy and Betty?”

Melissa smiles, nods. “Of course. Betsy was yours, and Betty was mine. We had those little wooden bassinets for them.”

“Right.”

Missy lets the memories flow back to her. “We used to sing lullabies and rock them to sleep. Actually, I’d sing, you’d pray with them. Mom and dad thought it was the sweetest thing ever, and I would get so mad at you. I thought you were sucking up to them.”

Scully laughs. This is the first time she’s heard of her sister’s woes. “Missy, I was three. There was no conspiring going on.”

“Say what you will, but your stocking was always a little bit fuller than mine.” She smirks at her sister, who blushes and looks at her lap. 

Dana has the unfortunate distinction, at least in Melissa’s mind, of being the favorite daughter. Bill Jr. always was and will be the favorite child. He molded to all their parent’s expectations of him, never deviating from the upstanding family man they imagined when holding him for the first time. Dana had done well up until she decided on the Academy. As Missy reminded her countless times, it wasn’t that they hated her going into the FBI. It just wasn’t in their vision for her, that’s all. 

Missy doesn’t fret about her place, even finds it somewhat funny. She isn’t the least favorite child per say (thanks Charlie!) but she is the least favorite child her mother is still in contact with, and that’s a title that takes some maneuvering. 

Scully laces her fingers together, rests them in her lap. “Do you remember telling me that I wasn’t a good mommy one night when we were putting Betsy and Betty to sleep?”

Melissa looks to her sister so quickly she practically forgets she needs to be watching the road. “No, of course not.”

Scully can’t meet her gaze. “Well, I know it’s a silly thing, and we were just children, but it’s stayed stuck in my brain for all these years.”

“Dana, you had probably just finished a ‘now I lay me down to sleep’ prayer, and I felt like I needed to knock you down a notch.” She pats her sister’s shoulder. “There was no truth in it, and I’m sorry it’s bugged you for so long.”

Scully shifts in her seat. The CVS bag crackles as her heels bear down on it. “I’m afraid it’s turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point.”

Melissa won’t give weight to her sister’s worries, but won’t discount them either. “The good news about a self-fulfilling prophecy is that you can always change your thinking...You don’t believe in psychics, so don’t try to be one.”

Scully looks at the dashboard, then her sister. “I would hug you right now if we weren’t doing 75,” she coos.  

Something has clicked in her head, some comfort she has long been depriving herself of. Sometimes words fill in the cracks left by those that preceded them. The right words go even further, it turns out. The right words give you permission to heal. 

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

A dreadful anticipation plagues her as she and Missy walk up to the apartment. She wants to get it over with, even if it goes badly (and she knows it very well might). She craves the relief of surviving such an ordeal. Scully imagines that this is what the French must have felt on their walk to the guillotine. Except instead of the relief of surviving, they got the release of death. Scully is not ready for this yet.

Missy unlocks the door, ushers her sister in. Dana is not used to coming home and finding things in different places than before, Missy can tell from the inquisitive look on her face. She is surveying her territory, updating her memory bank. Looking for the exit signs, maybe.

Melissa closes and locks the door. Letting her sister set the pace, she leaves the CVS bag on the side table. Dana has already taken the carry-on and suitcase to her room.

Her room, Scully finds, is a shrine to sameness, everything looking exactly as she left it two days before. Untouched and completely under her control...these are the reassurances she requires now. She lifts the suitcase onto her bed but leaves it zipped. Its fate is no clearer than hers at the moment. Then she places the carry-on on her dresser, makes a mental note to let Mulder know she made it home safely, and returns to her sister in the living room.

“Have you eaten?’ Missy asks, edging toward the kitchen.

“I won’t be able to until we get this over with,” Scully replies, making her priorities clear.

“Okay.” Missy won’t fight her on this one. She retrieves the bag off the side table, perches at her sister’s side. “Are you ready now?”

Scully screws up her face. “No, but yes. I just need to know at this point.”

Missy takes her sister’s hand with a specific kind of gentleness, like a fairy godmother about to cast a spell upon her princess. Scully is willing to be led. She follows her sister into the bathroom and sits on the closed toilet while Missy pulls the pregnancy tests from the bag. Scully tries not to think about any moment beyond the current one as her sister opens each test, lines them up along the counter. 

“Do you want me in here or outside?” Missy’s tone matches the sympathy that Scully needs.

“Outside, please,” Scully says sheepishly, wishing she could have some guts for once. If no one else witnesses this moment, then maybe it’s not happening. Flawed reasoning that even Mulder wouldn’t agree with, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Okay. I’ll be right on the other side of the door.”

Scully nods her thanks as Missy slips out of the bathroom and shuts the door quietly. Left alone, she feels the crushing gravity that has been trailing her all along. She’s almost certain that her heartbeat would be visible through her skin if she looked. 

She stands, picks up the first test, opens the toilet. Her hands shake so violently that she thinks she might drop the stick in the toilet, which would be a pretty terrible way to return her sister’s kindness. She pulls it away and takes a deep breath to steady herself, holding her arms out in front of her like a sleepwalker. All the things she’s seen, and she’s never been as scared as this moment. Never felt the life she knows and has grown to love so acutely threatened. Never balked at the future in such a fervent way.

It occurs to her that she might seriously need her sister to come in and help her. The thought of that is just pathetic enough to kick her into action. Her hands are barely any more steady than before, but her resolve is ironclad. 

On the other side of the door, Melissa listens as a long period of silence is broken. She’s sitting down, her head resting against the wood, a hand laid against the door like it’s the chest of a lover. 

Silence again, ruptured by Scully’s quiet murmur. “Will you hold on to the test, please? And read the result when it’s ready?” She didn’t know she would need this, but she does. 

“Of course.” 

Scully cracks open the door, passes the stick to her sister. “I wiped it off.” 

Missy suppresses a laugh. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t, but thank you.”

Scully closes the door quickly, not wanting to hold eye contact with her sister, not wanting to accidentally see the result herself. “Two minutes, right?” Her voice is on the verge of breaking.

“Yes, Dana. Two minutes.”

“Should I wait to do the next one?”

Missy eyes the test, waiting for it to make up its mind. “You can go ahead. It’ll take two minutes too.”

“Okay.” Scully’s voice is barely audible.

“Or you can wait,” Missy offers. “I just suspect that you’d want to check the accuracy as soon as possible.”

“Uh-huh.” She grabs the second test, wearily sits back down. 

Missy’s voice reverberates through the door. “I’ve done this before you know. For myself and for a friend.”

“Really?” Scully’s brain had tricked herself into thinking she was all alone.

“Mm-hm,” Missy confirms. “Mine were never positive, but hers were. I went to Planned Parenthood with her.”

“Oh.” There are things, Scully realizes, that she has neglected to think about. Or maybe she’s putting that off until she knows for sure. It wasn’t a conscious decision, more of an act of self-preservation. Her gut feeling is that she wouldn’t, but she never envisioned herself in a situation like this. If there’s any situation where it’s justified, it’s this, right? Not that she has a problem with it; women should be able to choose for themselves. She just always thought she knew what her choice would be. 

Melissa lifts her eyes from her watch, looks at the door as if she can see her sister through it. “It’s ready.”

“It’s been two minutes?” Scully’s voice rises.

“Uh-huh. Do you want me to come in or…?”

Scully scrambles up, lays the second test on a fresh piece of toilet paper. “I’ll come to you.”

She opens the door, kneels to be eye level with her sister. Prayer position is in close proximity. She bites her lip, her dilated pupils begging her sister to either curse her or free her.

A thin smile appears on Missy’s face as she flips the test so that Scully can read it. “Negative.”

One line. One very defined red line set against the white space. Has anyone, Scully wonders, ever gotten a tattoo of that?

“I--” Tears burst out of her instead of words. She lands in her sister’s arms, utterly unsure of what she’s feeling. Relief, yes. Happiness? Not quite. Sadness? Something like that. 

Missy smooths her sister’s hair down, holds her in the tightest hug she’s probably had in decades. “How do you feel?”

Scully is tempted to ask how her sister does that, always there with the tough questions. Instead, she gulps air until she’s calmed down enough to talk. 

“I don’t know,” she laments, tears streaked down her reddened face. “I thought I would be glad but...I just feel numb. Like I went down the wrong fork in the road and missed something important, but I don’t even know what it is since it didn’t happen.” She sniffles. It sounds like a heart breaking. “I just know it’s supposed to be there.”

“I thought you didn’t want--”

“Not under these circumstances, no. But then...when else is it gonna happen?” Her voice is a sheet of glass. “Because it doesn’t look like any time soon.”

Missy hugs her once again, rocking her back and forth. She overflows with warmth, sympathy, and love. “Honey, you have plenty of time to make your life what you want it to be.”

Scully sobs into her sister’s neck. She feels like an emotional hemophiliac, constantly hemorrhaging pain. Every time she thinks she’s bottomed out, there’s farther to fall. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she says, wiping her face. “I didn’t know I would be.”

Missy pulls her in a third time. “Don’t ever apologize to me for anything, even the things you’re actually wrong about.”

Scully laughs half-heartedly. “Oh!” She realizes then. “We still have two more tests, don’t we?”

Missy nods, smiles empathetically. “The second one should be ready by now.”

Scully is about to get up, but Missy lays a hand on her back, beats her to it. “I’ll grab it.” She strides into the bathroom, picks the stick up off the counter, and takes a look. Again, she flips it so her sister can see. “Negative.”

Scully presses her lips together, a stopgap to any further emotional reaction. “We should do the third one then, just to be sure?”

Missy detects a lift in her sister’s voice, a space she’s made for hope. “Whatever you’d like, Dana.” It seems that her sister will always end up disappointed through no fault of her own, no matter what she wishes for. This chills Missy to the bone.

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

The sisters share dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for lunch because this is the kind of food Melissa buys when left to her own devices. Missy dunks hers in honey mustard, Scully takes hers plain. Remnants of anxiety hang in the air; Scully’s plight remains unresolved, and they are well aware of that. Whatever path they are walking, this is just the beginning. 

The phone interrupts their silent reverie, and Scully hops up to disguise the fact that its ringing made her jump. “It’s probably Mulder,” she tells her sister. “I meant to call him when we got home.” Missy nods, continues with her nuggets. 

Scully grabs the phone off the wall. “Hello?”

“Hey, is Mel there?” It’s a sweet, flowery voice, very different from the one Scully expected. She furrows her brow. Could Mel refer to her sister? She’s never heard anyone call Melissa that. “Who is this?” Missy looks up, watches her sister curiously. It’s not Mulder, evidently. 

The woman on the other line clears her throat. “It’s Trinity. Am I speaking to Dana?”

“Yes, this is Dana,” Scully says slowly, unnerved by the caller knowing her name. “Are you calling for Melissa?” Scully offers, hoping she might get out of this scot-free. 

Hearing this, Missy wipes her hands on a napkin, gets up, and rushes toward Scully, holding her hand out for the phone.

Scully ignores her, keeps the phone to her own ear as the caller speaks to her. “I am, but I was actually wondering about you. Mel told me your worries. How are you doing, Dana?”

Scully is now particularly spooked. Who is this woman, and why does she know all of her business? Missy pokes Scully in the bicep, then gestures for the phone. Scully hasn’t seen her sister this greedily desperate since she snuck out the window when she was seventeen and needed Scully to unlock the front door so she could get back in before their parents woke up.

“Um, Trinity is it, Missy--Mel wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay! It was nice to finally meet you!” the cheery voice practically sings. Scully just nods and makes her usual ‘Mulder you’re crazy face’ as she hands the phone off to her sister.

“Hi, Trin.” Missy speaks in a rush. “I can’t really talk right now, but Dana is home and all the tests were negative so she’s doing okay. I’ll call you tonight, alright?”

Scully can hear the voice on the other line, but she can’t make it out. Her sister says “I love you, bye” into the phone, then hangs up.

Scully raises an eyebrow, feeling it her duty as the little sister to pry. “Who was that…?” 

Missy puts the phone back on the wall, circles around to her plate, sits down. She answers calmly, casually. “That’s Trinity. She lives in Portland, we used to waitress together.”

Scully slides back into the seat across from her sister. “How come you’ve never mentioned her? She seems to know a lot about me.”

“Well, you’re the reason I moved to DC and all.”

“I didn’t know you were still in contact with anyone from the West Coast.” Scully picks a stray crumb off one of her nuggets, thankful that her sister is in the line of questioning for a change. 

“I bounced around the area for three years, of course I have friends from there.” She grabs her own empty paper plate, points to her sister’s. “Are you done?”

Scully pushes the plate--with two uneaten chicken nuggets--toward Missy. “With the food, yes. Not with the questions.”

Melissa takes both of the plates to the trash, then rinses her hands in the sink. “Yes. Does that answer your question?”

“Depends. What do you think my question is?”

Missy dries her hands on the dish towel, swivels to face her sister. “Is Trinity my girlfriend? Because yes, she is.”

Scully’s mouth drops open the slightest bit. She had known Missy was bi, but she had never met any of her girlfriends, not even in passing. Missy tended to keep them to herself, fearing that the Scully family might encroach on the holy ground she created. “Really?” she asks excitedly. 

“Uh-huh.” Missy sits back down at the table. “For nine months now.”

“Are you serious? That’s incredible, Missy! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Missy just raises her eyebrow. Scully feels like she’s looking in a mirror. “What? You know it doesn’t bother me.”

“Sure, but mom, and Bill…”

“I don’t think that mom would be upset by it,” Scully answers level-headedly. “Surprised maybe, but not mad.”

Missy balls up a napkin, tosses it back and forth between her own hands. “I don’t know that she would be, I just...don’t trust that she wouldn’t. And besides, nothing mom says or does will change how I feel about Trinity. So it’s not really a pressing issue. No need to cause a scene.”

“I can’t believe you moved here without mentioning her. I wouldn’t have let you leave her, you know.”

Missy laughs. “Oh, I do. That’s why I didn’t say a word.” Scully’s laugh is her first genuine one all day.

“She seems very nice,” Scully says, flicking a crumb off the table.

“Oh no, she’s a total bitch,” Missy replies. There’s a moment of silence while Scully figures out that was a joke, then they both laugh.

“Just kidding. I love her very much.” Missy’s smile could melt ice. “I’m glad you got to talk to her. Now my two favorite ladies have technically met!”

“I’m afraid to ask whether I’m in first or second place.”

Missy reaches out across the table. “I moved across the country for you, honey.” Then, with a smirk--”But I could move back any day now, so watch out!”

Scully smiles, nods. She can’t imagine what these past few weeks would have been like without her sister near. She hopes Missy never goes away again, as unrealistic a thought as it is. If there are angels on Earth, her sister is one. But Mulder too has emerged as a force in her life; no one destabilized her life quite like him, but he would be her rock if she let him, she knows this. She owes him a call. She knows that too.

[calypsoff]

Fifty Five. Part 2

Mel’ voice scared me out of bed “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Robyn, Happy Birthday! To you!!” She shouted with a cupcake in hand, a lit candle on top “are you serious?” I said groggily “deadass ma’am, oh my god. You’re twenty six, but you look twenty” I chuckled “you really scared me” shuffling up on the bed slowly “I was out, nobody was going to wake me. How have I woke up tired still” resting my back against the headboard “wow, oh my god” Yusuf said pointing at my stomach “hey” pulling my top down “you lucky I wear panties” leaning forward closing my eyes, making my wish and blew the candle out “yay! Happy Birthday baby” Mel hugged me “aww thank you, I will forgive you all for scaring me. I love you all” Mel moved back from the hug “come here” waving Yusuf over “chile, I don’t know what I expected but I can’t believe how pregnant you are. I don’t know why I am shocked, but I haven’t seen your stomach since, I mean you are very much pregnant” Yusuf is shook “does it look that bad?” I questioned “no, just it too me back. Robyn is actually pregnant” hugging Yusuf as I cooed out, he isn’t used to it I get it “you know what we were waiting for you to wake up, but we were done waiting, we have breakfast waiting. Tina cooked so ain’t no ordering or anything so get out of bed, you missed all the birthday love last night. Noella text me like is that bitch going to respond. I said listen, her life has changed now. She is with child, we got to give her time to catch up” I huffed out smiling “how you think I feel, so I spoke to Chris in bed and then I was all comfy and then I needed to pee, my bladder felt so weak last night and I don’t get why, I will be back to my usual self, I promise” I am awful, I can’t believe how much I just slept last night, what is wrong with me.

Waving at all my team as I walked out of my room “oh god, y’all are so embarrassing. I feel like I should have dressed or something, god I am a mess” I am so shameful, here I am just walking out with my big tee on and half asleep still “oh be quiet, happy birthday baby” Jen gave me the biggest hug “thank you, that looks like a big breakfast, come here Tina” waving her over, I want to hug this tiny bitch “my tiny little child, look at her” hugging Tina “happy birthday to one of the most amazing boss, best friend” I cooed out “thank you Tina” she is so cute bless her “I heard you cooked this, it smells delicious” Mel my stylist came in for a hug “happy birthday my sexy baby mother, you are one sexy baby mother” the girls laughed “no, but am I joking. How fine does she look, her skin is popping too” he is too kind “stop it, I am just a lazy bitch now but come on babies. Let’s eat, before I become very angry. You know this baby likes food” walking towards the table “I am guessing this is my chair, seeing as it is decorated with balloons” pulling the chair back “of course, tonight we will turn up a little. But we shall start with breakfast” sitting down shuffling my chair in “is mommy blowing a fuse?” I asked, I know my mom probably is “she said where is my baby? I don’t think people are used to you being this quiet” my poor friends and family, this baby just wants me to sleep and hibernate. I want to do things, but this baby has other plans.

I have kind of peeped the start of Chris’ text and I have left it to the side because I just seen a picture of Chris and Drake in Vegas, I have just commented on his post. He really went out of his way to post such a nasty picture of me “do y’all believe that Chris liked this” I turned my phone to the table “like do y’all really think he liked that, look at me. My hair was barely done, this was before Joyce did my hair, those white folk weren’t good. I am mad at him; my hair was terrible. I looked so scared”. Mel chuckled “no it’s not even that bad, it was so sweet of him. It shows that he loved you then, you really had a forehead that only a momma could love” slapping Mel’ hand away “I am joking but to me that is sweet Robyn, I don’t know why you’re so offended” rolling my eyes “probably because his ass is in the club in Vegas but I looked terrible” a knock at the door of the apartment “get that” Mel said to Tina “you’re just being sensitive for nothing, he is in Vegas he is going to have fun but that is sweet, ok who else on the table thinks that post was nasty?” Mel announced to the table “I liked it” Jen said “see you’re just being negative about yourself; he did like you then so there you go little sensitive ass” I suppose, let me answer his text. I won’t call him because obviously he will be in there and I can’t be bothered to be shouting over that music.

To: Chris

From: Robyn

That is fine, be safe x

Pressing send on the message shaking my head “did you leave a comment on his post?” Mel asked, nodding my head “yeah, I put I really wish you didn’t with this picture but thank you baby” Mel rolled her eyes at me laughing “special delivery for you Robyn” looking behind me at Tina “what?” seeing the bouquet of roses “is it my secret admirer? I hope so” I joked, Tina placed the roses on the table “you wish bitch” grabbing the card on the roses “oohh, who is this” opening the envelope smiling “Happy Birthday Twin, sorry I can’t be with you right now. I want you to have the best day ever, I hope you like your gift from me to you, I chose this myself, so I hope you like it. I love you” I read it “oh my gosh, a gift” I beamed, Tina placed the box in front of me “House Of Miyake-Mugler?” I questioned “right, who helped him? Since when does Chris know fashion” I laughed, this is a lie “I swear I didn’t even help him, on my mother” Mel said, she knows I do not trust her. I can imagine she would help him, Chris really bought me a dress “right, let’s see what he got me. I don’t believe he can actually pick something nice” opening the ribbon on the box and then opening the box “oh we going white” getting up from the chair, pulling out the dress “oh it’s strapless” holding the dress up “oh this is cute, but it’s going to be figure hugging. I will have to get a jacket or something, you think it could work Mel? I need to hide my stomach” Mel nodded his head “that is a nice dress, he chose well. I am proud of him” Mel my stylist likes it so that means he has done well.

I hate myself; I missed my flight that left at eight so I am sat in the airport having to pay above the price I paid in the first place to get the flight at Ten which means I will get to Robyn late as hell, I text Mel that I will have to meet them at their meal because I am going to be late. I overslept, I drank a little more then I should have maybe but then I went to sleep, I shouldn’t have but I needed to sleep the booze off, I can’t be drunk on this flight. I see Robyn did text me, but she seemed annoyed, I don’t think she was happy that I went but I had a good night, I met Dr Dre, I was a big fan to him. I am sure he hated me, but Drake really made it known I was married, he announced it on several occasions and then was getting all hype about it, played Rihanna’ songs too but even though people knew who I am married too, females didn’t care. They were still there, just there sitting with me asking me questions but like, I wasn’t here for that. I mean girls are always going to be there, not like I care but I don’t want it to be more then what it is, because it’s never that. I am just happy that I had a good night, I didn’t pay for no drinks. Just good vibes, that is all I wanted. Looking down at my phone, my followers have shot up. Like we in hundred thousands now, that is because of the Vogue thing “wild” I said to myself, tapping on my tagged photos. I knew it would be full of the Drake pictures, I mean all we did was take pictures. Oh I don’t remember that one, maybe I do. It’s a group picture so it’s whatever, but what is my arm doing around her, she is something to do with Drake, I think anyways but it was all harmless.

I am stood in the disabled toilets waiting for my flight, I am stood in here because I do not want Robyn to know anything that I am going to see her in London. Pressing my phone to my ear as it rang out, I hope she pick up. I do assume that she is annoyed with me that is why I want her to pick up “hey” Robyn answered finally “happy birthday twin, aye. How are you?” I sound so husky there “I am ok, how about yourself you sounding a little rough there baby? Long night” I chuckled “could say, I did text you, you got it right?” I am saying it like she didn’t text me back “I did but you had to go out on the day of the announcement, I see the little video of you turning up too, least you had a good time. You going out tonight too?” she is not happy “I am, to celebrate your birthday twin, I think I will be. I will tell you now because you may go to sleep early, you sleep well yeah? You weren’t even picking up” I know my wife, she wants to be annoyed with me, but she can’t say anything “I slept a lot, this baby is taking out of me, but I love the dress so much. I just wanted to say thank you, you really set the tone for my birthday, I wasn’t expecting anything from you, so this was such a surprise, just shows you think about me. You have taste too, I love the dress so much” I cooed out, I am happy she liked it “you know I got you, I wouldn’t forget your birthday just sucks that you are there and I am here, I miss you” I need to stop teasing her like that “yeah” Robyn breathed out, I do hate it that we are apart “I really hate it, I wish I was there” oh god, now she is crying “stop crying Robyn, please not on your birthday. I know you been a little sad about it, I felt it in my heart but don’t be sad, I promise you we will have many more, you got mine to celebrate” Robyn laughed “you’re so annoying, I just miss you. I miss your touch Chris; it’s been so long. But I will be ok, just be careful out there, I am trying to get this all done and dusted soon, I need to have my appointment” I feel bad now “it’s been a while Robyn since I seen you too, I can only imagine you have changed. I wanted to see that change myself, I wanted to be there but we going to be ok Robyn so please be optimistic. I love you” that is my little words of wisdom done.

With every little delay I am getting annoyed, we were supposed to leave at ten and fifteen minutes has gone, and we are still here not left “excuse me ma’am” I said to the flight attendant “yes sir?” she said “why are we still here on the ground, are we leaving now?” this is annoying “we will be leaving now sir so please remain in your seat” nodding my head, I am sat in business class, this flight is long as fuck so I wasn’t about to be sat squashed in the back, I am not doing that at all. I am actually trusting both TJ and Barry with my business right now, Cena and Neima left too, they are going to work on what we discussed so I have to trust them two, I am not even going to lie how pissed off I was about them doing what they did, how can they fuck up a supplier like that. But they are my friends, so I got to just relax on that, I don’t want to break that friendship over this. I do need to mention to them that they won’t have a big role in the business like that anymore. So they won’t get the big money like they do unless they do want to work for me.

I feel so groggy, this time difference is really hitting me. It’s no good, I am going to be sleeping well tonight. I am just so glad that we have landed, and we can get off this plane, people are all rushing to get off the plane, I should be doing the same. It is so late, like I am hitting Robyn’ bed time right now. Tapping on Mel’ name, I bet Mel is panicking thinking what am I doing “I will be back, yes sorry” she said down the phone “where are you? Robyn is acting like I am holding her hostage now, have you actually landed here? Please say you have” Mel pleaded “yeah I am here, I have landed. So where are you? You told me I forgot” she did mention it “The Arts Club, it’s on Mayfair. Tell the cab to drop you off here, you will need to come by security. Tell them you’re here with Rihanna” pulling a face “is this place fancy, I have my suitcase with me?” Mel huffed out “our car is parked there, you know what. Rich will be around; I will text him to meet you. Put your suitcase in the car, don’t bring that in here, hope you’re dressed nicely” pulling a face “Mel, I ain’t getting changed. I will knock a nigga out, they will let me in” Mel chuckled “just come, hurry about it too” she disconnected the call, standing up on the plane. I need to leave “hi, excuse me sir” looking over at the lady as I shuffled out of my seat, turning to her “can I have a picture with you” pulling a face at her “me?” this weird “please, I love Rihanna and I seen recently that you both married and I find the whole story so cute” I chuckled “oh yeah, why not” this is mind blowing that people want to take pictures with me.

Rich is stood waiting for me, he opened the cab door “come on, get out” he started laughing, he grabbed my suitcase for me “thank you friend” I said to the cab driver as I got out, taking my backpack with me “you come to surprise me?” Rich joked “you happy that I am here?” he shook his head “I will take your backpack too to the car, it’s a very upscale place so let’s not take big bags with you “and” moving my face away as the flash got into my eyes “that, yes paparazzi are posted outside” that looks fun, they rushed over once one of them saw me “I ain’t even famous, what the fuck. You good with my stuff?” I asked, he nodded his head walking off. Walking towards the front door, the paparazzi are really on my ass “how does it feel to be married to one of most beautiful popstars?” one shouted, the guy opened the door for me as I got inside. I am glad that is over “hi sir, what are you here for?” this big guy asked, security of course “Rihanna, she is in here” he looked me up and down “the dress code does state no trainers” I groaned “bro, I have just come on a flight from Vegas to surprise my wife that is sat in there you really going to play in my face when I am this jet lagged” he went quiet not saying a word, he nodded his head and opened the door for me, he knows not to fuck with me because either way I would go inside.

Mel and I caught eyes straight away, she breathed out. She looks so relieved to see me, you can tell they purposely sat Robyn there because she can’t see here. Robyn has her hair in a ponytail, the way I have won right now, I love when her hair is like that “sorry” hitting into someone, I am too mesmerised by the fact my twin got her hair up, she knows that my weakness, she knows this. Getting closer to the table, it’s like everyone is staring at me but not making it obvious at the same time, they are trying not to stare but they are staring. I am just behind Robyn’ chair, she is so damn loud with her mouth. Leaning over slowly, placing my one hand on the table and the other behind her chair “you finished being loud?” I said, Robyn froze and then turned to me. Her face all in mines, I have missed her so much, she yelped out getting up from the chair and I moved back. Robyn grabbed me, her arms around my neck as she sobbed out crying “happy birthday twin, I know it’s late, but I missed a flight here” Robyn is about to make me cry, she is really crying a lot. Her grip around my neck is so tight “you came” she managed to say “I came here for you, you look so good Robyn, you really do” rubbing her back as she continued to cry, she is so sad.

“Oh my god, my makeup is a mess now” Robyn stepped back trying to save her makeup “here you go mama” Jen gave her a napkin “you got me fucked up, look at me” I chuckled “hi everyone, hope y’all well. Has she been complaining about going home?” I questioned “baby she was ready to walk, I am glad you came now” Yusuf spat “we are here drinking on her behalf too” looking over at Robyn smiling “they kept you here for me, you think I would miss your birthday” Robyn shook her head “stop, I am not going to stop crying” wrapping my arm around Robyn “you look so beautiful, I wouldn’t ever miss a birthday Robyn, we missed too many important dates already, never again. You know I would follow you anywhere” pressing a kiss to the side of her face “best gift to me, look at me. I can’t stop” nodding my head understanding, Robyn’ stomach caught my eye “no way, oh my god Robyn” I stepped back, that stomach has come out. Looking up at Robyn’ face in shock, my mouth hung open “that is really a bump” she is showing “stop, don’t make a scene” Robyn hugged me, I am in shock.

We moved places with Mel to sit in the corner, Robyn is getting me fed anyways “I am so tired, look at me. When I called you I was drunk, well not so much drunk but yeah. I was so angry, I was supposed to be here for you like two hours ago, I would have been here for your cake and stuff but just like you. I am tired, we about to sleep good tonight” Robyn looks so happy, she is so damn happy “trust me, I was about to send you pictures of my fit actually, I did a ponytail for you. I was like Chris likes my hair like this” nodding my head smiling “I am in shock, you have been so busy on skype with business that you never showed me” placing my hand over Robyn’ bump “wow” Robyn raised her hand up “ignore me, I am ok” she is really crying about everything “stop it” holding Robyn’ hand “stop crying, I am here now. Once I ate we can go, I am tired. Like if I am talking shit ignore me” she is emotional “you have made my birthday, you really have. I have been somewhat so miserable, I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday, but I also didn’t want to travel back and forth, I promised myself to not be acting stupid. I am here so I stay here until it’s done, I am not travelling back and forth” nodding my head understanding “and you think I wouldn’t come to you, my clothing line is not above you” Robyn lower lip quivering “look at you, you got a tan. You look so well, you were on the shade room and I was like look at him. He looks so happy, so I didn’t want to you know, bring that down with my mood because that is unfair on you” shaking my head “stop it, well I am here now” Robyn placed her hand a top of mine “you not going to let me go now are you” she shook her head laughing.

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

Let’s talk about quarantine streams and smartass fans

This might piss off some people, but I’ve had it so here we go...these past 2 months have been hard for pretty much all of us and the fact some visual kei artists chose to not leave us alone during this time means a lot. Several of them did their part in their own way and we should all be thankful BUT still, some fans of some bands seem to find it soooo fuckin hard to not throw poison, even during a time like this, and instead of just being happy about their bands being there for them, compare bands to theirs and belittle the effort of everyone else. So I felt like sharing what I noticed from other bands to enlighten some narrowminded fans and also to clear some things up. I am not going to cut this, this will be a long-ass post so you’ve been warned.

So let’s start with the two of the biggest names in the industry shall we?

The Gazette: Many of the Gazette’s fans are disappointed because the band hasn’t been around during this whole time, and many Dir en Grey fans feel like it’s the perfect time to post things like “Where’s your band now?“ or “Gazette who?“. For your information, Reita, Kai and Aoi have been around too, just not as much as other band members. They check on us. And anyway the other day that Reita tried to share an opinion on people sending hate to artists and generally other people, many fans attacked him. He didn’t tell you not to tell your opinion, people, he just said it’s good to filter your fuckin tongue before talking. Did anyone of you think, even for just one second, that he said that because of what’s going around about them right now? And at the end of the day none of the artists who even did spend sometime with us owed us this. Yes we support them, we buy their stuff etc etc, but the only thing artists owe us back for that support is more music and art, not spending their free time with us, nor being our personal psychologists. So yes, please and I mean that, by all means show your gratitude to those who did that these days, but don’t attack bands who didn’t. And I don’t mean JUST the Gazette. Many more bands didn’t do the whole free lives & broadcast thingy, but since they are a big name, they are getting named the most. About Ruki now. I see people saying things like, oh Ruki is hibernating etc, when many fans were yearning for a new album. Personally I wouldn’t be surprised if when the whole quarantine is over, the Gazette will announce a new album. How do you know he is just staying inside doing nth? How do you know he is not caring for his own people or even working on new stuff around the very subject of the virus? I won’t speak about Uruha cause Uruha isn’t a fan of social media in general.

Dir en Grey: Dir en Grey is one of the bands that actually did a lot to stay by the side of their fans from early on during the quarantine, sth which filled their fans with joy. So I don’t understand why their fans then felt the need to start spreading hate to other bands, I really don’t. Dir en Grey were also one of the first bands that did a free live and in a huge arena like it was a full-scale show. I found that really remarkable and I was like whoa this is so amazing of them. But seeing their fans say things like “oh no other band does that, bitches“ etc, made me not care so much and overshadowed their kindness with hate and fans who really don’t deserve all that, in my opinion. I am not saying all fans are like that, in any way, I follow so many amazing Dir en Grey fans who are genuinely exhilarated about what they did and who just post about their happiness without hating on others, but yeah it’s really such a big shame to see the dark side of their fandom. Every fandom has a dark side but during this quarantine I got to see Dir en Grey’s one, as I am only familiar with the fandoms I myself am in. So for those bitter Dir en Grey fans I got one thing to say: not every band has their money to make such a show in such a big arena and hundreds more vkei artist actually stayed by their fans side during the whole quarantine. Shocking I know.

And now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about bands that were there too from home:

Kaya: Since the beginning of quarantine, Kaya has been online all the time, interacting with fans, doing various broadcasts, dolled up or casual, and telling everyone we are fighting this together and that he will be on our side no matter what. He’s been showering fans with love, he uploaded videoclips that hadn’t been uploaded so far on his youtube and some songs live. He is going through all kinds of things from fanarts to comments about anything and does so many broadcasts that I have lost count.

REIGN: Even though the band is disbanding at the end of May, during the whole quarantine, all four members have been twitcasting from time to time, with Ikuma being the overdoer as he streamed from 3-4 hours every few days, discussing about various subjects with fans. Even when they weren’t twitcasting, all REIGN members were on twitter, posting and being there for their fans. They also joined a 3-man live with Grimoire and Sick2′s side project at the beginning of the quarantine which they broadcasted for free. The live house wasn’t very big but it was good enough for the three bands performing and they also answered comments until the people working at the live house told them it was time to close for the night

D: D were more active for their paying fandom, but they sure didn’t leave those not belonging in their vip list hanging. They were on twitter the whole time, sharing videos of themselves playing music and even joining tag games that spread among vkei artists during the quarantine to pass their time, urging everyone to stay inside and stay safe. Also, Asagi took an active part in providing for charity during such times. Before the pandemic was announced it had already been decided D were working on a charity single that would send some of the earnings to Australia for the damage of the forest fires last year and, after this was done, he focused on providing money for live houses who were threatened to close due to lack of activity through a single that was written for everyone to know they are not alone. In case you haven’t heard, many live houses hosting vkei shows have been closing the last few years, making it harder for bands to find sometime during each week to perform somewhere. Once live houses are done, so will visual kei artists be, unless they of course turn to online performances. So Asagi focused on providing for the future of the live scene, which was very smart move at the moment and if I remember well some money went to providing people with more masks too. There is a new charity streaming happening at the moment for children, btw.

GLAY: GLAY donated 10 million yen and 5000 masks to medical institutions for COVID-19 relief. Need I say more? GLAY have also been active on their social media for their fans’ sake. I don’t know any more details, cause I don’t follow them that much, but they did things not only for their fans but also for their country.

Kamijo: Kamijo has also being active on social media but moreso lately, starting his own broadcasts to interact with fans. Until that point it seemed that he was working on various things and organizing them to have the form they have now. Kamijo also changed the lyrics of the lead song of his latest single Persona Grata so that the enemy mentioned in it is more of an invisible one instead of a story-focused one like he usually does. According to him, he did that so that the song can work as a hope provider against our current invisible enemy, the virus. He said he wanted to lift people’s spirits and use this song to spread hope, so he made that little change and let me tell you, it is an amazing and powerful ballad. Also, since some if not all shippings have been ceased at the moment, Kamijo uploaded the whole single on his youtube channel for free so that everyone can listen to it and hopefully find some strength to keep believing and maybe get lost in it and forget about the general chaos a little.

Gackt: No, I don’t want to hear it. If you are his haters and haven’t even tried to read or experience what he does for his fans, don’t bother coming for me. Gackt has already been trying to share funny moments with his fans and he hopes he does make it with that, through his instagram and youtube so I wasn’t surprised he kept doing that during quarantine. Last week, he uploaded all his live shows on youtube so that his fans can watch them during quarantine if they wish. He couldn’t provide us with a show during such days so he did give us every show he has done so far for free and so that we could enjoy a show from home. He also kept doing workouts to show us, encouraging us to stay inside and be hopeful and mindful of the people around us. He also started some accent lessons in English for Japanese fans, but I guess even that would be cringy to some of you so you will pass it like that. He’s been trying to spread laughter to his fans and I really appreciate that. And for the hate he got even for that, well, if you don’t like his humor, focus on your favorites and leave him and his fans be. :)

Sui/David: Sui had a performance arranged for Paris around this time but due to the pandemic, he couldn’t make it. He had even fundraised about it so he was really saddened he couldn’t make it. To make up for it, though, he went to a studio with just another person and performed for both his Paris and other fans live with a single phone recording. The studio was really small and, some of you might think oh well big deal, it was just one person, but the place was stuffed with furniture and equipment and on top of that, Sui isn’t very tiny, he is like 1,82 cm so, it was hard for him to move around. But yeah he still tried, he came all dressed up in his costume and even though there were no special effects, good lighting nor a band with him, he did his best to entertain his fans and I respect that. And I also had a good time. ^^ He had prepared enough songs only for 30 minutes that are given for free from twitcast as, obviously he didn’t expect many people to show up nor send him coins (points on twitcast to prolong broadcast) so after that, he cheerfully accepted to keep this going for 30 more minutes, singing a song one more time, then talking with us and closing his show with a Malice Mizer cover of Ma Chérie.

BPR bands: Well all BPR bands have taken over youtube the last one year, but even more so now, the bands kept posting videos to entertain the fans. They also did broadcasts in which they talked with other members online and also interacted with fans. I only follow Kiryu on twitter so I can’t speak for everyone but they sure continued being active on twitter on days like these and joke around to spread some laughs.

Alice Nine: Another band that has been online the whole time these days and broadcasting often. Tora has been taking his gaming channel very seriously these days and yes he has an option to tip him if you want, in fact several vkei artists do that because, like I said, not everyone has the money to survive without working these days, especially artists who can’t really sell their art at the moment, but his youtube lives are free, entertaining and a good company if you are feeling alone. He posts a new video every day or every two days, if sth comes up. Hiroto already had a radio show so I think he keeps going there, I haven’t checked, I’ve only seen his twitcasts but yes all the members have been twitcasting, for vip fans and not and recently they had a broadcast all together from home.

Other artists who also broadcasted a lot and/or did live shows are: RAZOR, Diaura, DOG inThePWO, Mana (Kozi and Yu~ki were more active in tweets not broadcasts), Zamb, Ryutaro (also mostly in tweets), Byo, Jin & Rui Takeru/Sleepyhead, Agato/Izumi (full father mode on his tweets ^^’), Versailles members and Vistlip, SHiSHi, Neth Priere Cain, i.D.A, Satoshi, etc etc.

Now be civil and nice and think before you speak. Enjoy your shows and broadcasts, be grateful and stop throwing poison.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Bah Humbug

This is an early holiday transitory one to help you move along from your craving for that distinct autumn smell to all things wintery! Originally set to be a feel-good drabble for @the-blind-assassin-12​ just because I adore her, it kind of got away from me and turned into a full-on one-shot! Special thanks to @something-tofightfor​ for taking the time to read and critique. Enjoy this big ball of fluff, courtesy of our very own Ryan Brenner!

No trigger warnings here, rated Disney movie G.

Word count: 2119

Tag list: @dylanobrusso​ @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @something-tofightfor​ @ms-delos​ @madamrogers​ @lexxierave​ @agent-bossypants​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @poindexted​ @maydayfigment​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @ladyofnaps​ 

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask! Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

You hated Christmas carols. 

There was no valid reason behind it, but you loathed them, you didn’t want to hear about jingling bells, or sleigh bells ringing. You’d learned long ago that Santa Claus was always in town in the form of your parents and you were over hearing about a make-believe reindeer being bullied. And Frosty the Snowman? All snowmen melt. It’s science. Snow itself was something you never felt up to dealing with, and people wrote songs about wishing for it?! What idiots. 

The biggest predicament regarding Christmas carols was that they could not be avoided starting the first of November. Ghouls and goblins and an infinite amount of Avengers and Frozen Princesses were immediately traded in for ugly sweaters and Santa hats. It was American culture and you didn’t mind it…it was what came along with it that made you a Grinch. You couldn’t watch any TV without being harassed with commercials including some type of carol, and forget shopping. You were assaulted the moment you stepped inside a too-warm department store. You’d only run inside for three items, and upon stepping into the door, you steeled yourself for the inevitability. It would be a quick trip, in and out. 

Except the store was congested with so many people, your usual long strides you reserved for these kinds of atrocities was reduced to a slow, staggered creeping. The only thing worse than Christmas carols was Christmas carols playing when surrounded by people. 

You were in Hell. 

Finally, you were able to reach the shampoo aisle, a blaring speaker anchored to the ceiling directly above your head. It was impossible to tune the music out, and Frank Sinatra began crooning about being home for Christmas. But only in my dreams. It was one carol that brought a rush of warmth and comfort into your heart, followed by a pang of longing and a vivid memory. You missed him. 

*** *** ***

Summer had turned to autumn without you noticing. The air was cooler, less humid.  The days had grown shorter and there was a  buzz in the air. Sandals and sundresses were replaced with boots and scarves, and fuzzy socks became an indoor necessity. You knew this wasn’t just a cool snap when you heard leaves crunching beneath your feet as you reached your front porch, eyes scanning your yard quickly. How hadn’t you noticed until that moment that your grass had been blanketed in leaves in varying shades of fire:  rich auburn, burnt orange, golden yellow. Pausing as you looked, you heard a scuffling coming from behind your home, and you walked carefully around the perimeter of your home. A smile illuminated your face and adoration squeezed in your chest. Autumn leaves were gathered into two large piles, and Ryan was raking the remainder of what was left into a third heap as you approached him. 

“What are you doing, Ryan Brenner?” You tended to use his first and last name in situations like these, where you found him doing sweet things he never gave a second thought. His full name was beginning to replace the use of just ‘Ryan’ or, sometimes, just a shortened ‘Ry’. 

The rake he held in his hands stilled on the ground and he leaned his weight against it, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. Raising his shoulders in a shrug, he glanced around your cleared back yard before his eyes landed on you, nothing but you. “Yard work.” 

His answer was quick and simple, obvious, and you laughed, the crunching of dead leaves under your feet ceasing as you walked closer and greeted him with a quick kiss, followed by one that you lingered in. “You’re supposed to be visiting, relaxing. Not doing my yard work,” you teased. “

You know I can’t stay still for long,” he smiled. Yes, all too well.  The thought alone gifted him with another kiss. “I’m sweatin’, Y/N,” he said in his his slight Southern drawl. He wiped at his forehead with the back of one hand, the other still supporting the rake. “

“Hmm, seems like I don’t care much, doesn’t it?” You pecked at his lips once more in a playful fashion. “Can the mention of food coerce you inside?” You raised your brows and caught his startling dark eyes with yours, walking backward for a few paces before turning around to retreat indoors. You had leftovers to heat up.  

*** *** ***

After dinner was eaten and the dishes were set out to dry, you opted to change while Ryan cleaned up with the help of a hot, steamy shower. You slipped out of your clothes and pulled on a soft pair of pants, an oversized sweatshirt you loved to sleep in, and a warm pair of wool socks. Settling onto the couch with a book, you sat sideways, your back against the sofa’s arm. You heard Ryan’s footsteps against the old wooden floor before you saw him. Yet when you did, your book was forgotten as you let your eyes linger over his form. His dark, overgrown hair was wet, brushed back from his forehead. Low on his hips were a worn pair of sweatpants, his feet bare and a t-shirt covering his upper half, and he was holding his guitar. You’d barely opened your book, but you closed it and set it aside, raising your brows and offering him a smile. 

“What’s the occasion?” you nodded at the guitar. Ryan chuckled and bent to kiss your hair before crossing the room and settling on the hearth. You knew better than to start a fire; it was something Ryan had unofficially made his duty when he was in town. You’d opted to use the heater for quick warmth when the two of you came inside. 

“Just another day, Y/N,” Ryan said with a smile. You couldn’t remember a day you hadn’t seen Ryan without a guitar on his lap or heard music wafting from another room; there probably hadn’t been a music-free day since you’d known him. “Got somethin’ special for you.”

You gave him your full attention as his tattooed fingers of his left hands settled on the strings and right hand began strumming. The tune sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he started singing that you nodded in recognition, just before groaning in protest. Ryan only smiled, continuing on seamlessly with his rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”. He knew Christmas carols weren’t your favorite, but he also knew that you wouldn’t mind as much so long as he was the one playing. 

The scowl didn’t stay on your face for long, however. Ryan had chose that particular song for a reason. You knew the time was coming for him to chase the trains again, just as the weather was getting colder and the first snow of the season was looming on the horizon. By the time the song came to an end, there was only a look of understanding on your face as Ryan’s eyes met yours, and he set his guitar aside. Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you made your way across the room to perch on his lap and kissed his forehead before looking down at him, smiling halfway through your disappointment at his leaving soon. “I hated it.”

*** *** ***

 It had taken a full half an hour to grab a bottle of shampoo and a box of hot cocoa and pay for your items. You’d planned a full grocery shop, but every aisle in the store was congested with last-minute shoppers and you had far exceeded your Christmas cheer quota for the day. Ordering pizza for delivery had never sounded like a better idea, and by the time you made your trek through the parking lot, the last minutes of sunlight had passed. It was a full moon, the heavy clouds illuminated by the moonlight. They were ominous, a promise of snowfall at any given moment. It couldn’t be a more picture-perfect Christmas Eve, straight out of a mass-printed Rockwell painting. You idly remembered stacking more firewood beside the fireplace the night before, and mentally thanked yourself for a job well-done. If you didn’t have such a thick blanket of dead leaves between your driveway and the door, you’d make a run for it.

When you pulled into the drive and put your car in park, a small light caught your eye and your brow furrowed. During the time in your childhood where you had been certain you’d grow up to be an entomologist, you read ravenously and absorbed as much information as possible, most of which you remembered. You knew that fireflies hibernate in winter, and just as the thought jogged your memory, you saw the flicker again. Chalking it up to some form of reflection thanks to the light of the moon, you pulled your keys from the ignition, threaded your arm through the handles of the plastic bag that held your purchase, and steeled yourself for the assault of the frigid air. 

While making your beeline for the door, your vision caught another flicker of light, this one brighter and and not as brief. “What the…” you whispered under your breath, trying to decide whether to keep your pace steady or go against all common sense and make a run for it. Could this day get any worse? Could Christmas possibly be more of a pain in the ass? 

As you briskly approached your home, you squinted against the darkness and could vaguely make out a figure lounging on your porch steps. You’d remembered firewood, but you hadn’t remembered to leave a light on, and you were certain that this was it. You’d be starring in your very own television special, featured as the frozen corpse found in the snow just outside your home, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream when you heard a voice.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.” 

You froze for a moment, mouth dropping open. You’d recognize that deep tenor and slight drawl anywhere. A light thud sounded as you dropped your bag in surprise, and you bent quickly to pick it back up. You made a run for it the rest of the way as Ryan stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette. There was your firefly.

Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed your eyes shut. “How was…?”

“Raleigh,” he reminded you, holding you close. He gently swayed back and forth, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Lotta places to set up and play. Nice, mild weather.” He pulled back to look at you, his face holding a serious expression. “Not enough firewood for kindlin’. Not enough people honest enough to tell me when they hate my songs.”

You laughed, taking a step back and lacing your fingers with his. “If you’re itching to start a fire, you’re in for a treat. And I bought cocoa, the instant kind with the little marshmallows.” You shrugged apologetically, scrunching your nose as he reached for his pack and slung his guitar case over his shoulder. “I was wallowing. I couldn’t stand to walk around that store long enough to buy anything more than I had to, so instant cocoa it was.” You paused as you slid your keys in the lock, hurrying inside and ushering Ryan in as you flipped on the light switch. “Not to mention the Christmas carols.” Dramatically, you put on a fake shudder.

He shook his head wryly as he set down his things, gifting you a smile as he took the few steps to close the distance between you. Sliding his hands up and down your arms, his smile softened as he searched your face, pink from the cold. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, leaning in and ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I told you I’d be home for Christmas.”

Home. You weren’t one to dwell on the semantics of things, but with Ryan, you knew they mattered. He didn’t say he’d be here for Christmas or back for Christmas; he said he’d be home for Christmas, and here he was. There was nothing in that moment that could bring you down, everything in the world feeling perfect. The warm body next to yours was one the thing that you wanted, more than anything else in the world. 

“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You finally returned the sentiment, closing your eyes for a few beats as you leaned your forehead against his. “Can I ask for a favor?”

He moved his forehead from yours, looking down at you with his dark, warm eyes. There was a glimmer there on the surface, and it warmed your heart. Ryan looked happy, and there was nothing quite like it. 

“Anything.” 

You grinned impishly, reaching up to pull his cap from his head, running your fingers through his thick hair for good measure. “Give me your best version of Jingle Bells.”

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 76

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle enjoy some time in the countryside once more, talking about something that has been on Tom's mind before celebrating Tom's birthday.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom looked around the house, wondering where Danielle was, the fact that Mac was hiding under the table looking less than pleased caught his attention also. "Where is she?" The dog only gave a small groan in response. "Where is she gone?" His answer came a moment later when a loud engine roared and Mac's ears went up, his attention to the back garden as he did so. Tom walked out and watched as Danielle mowed the grass on the small patch of her garden that was green. It took only a moment before it was done. "A woman of many talents."

"And yet a master at none," She smiled looking over at him. "Come on, I am going to do your mum's while I'm at it."

"Okay?"

"Open the gate," Danielle instructed.

"Where is she gone?" He asked, doing as he was instructed, noting his mum's car was gone from her driveway.

"Shopping, she said she wants to grab a few bits in town."

"Don't you usually go with her?"

"If by that do you mean 'Danielle, you usually play chauffeur, why not today' then the answer is because I am doing this housework, and I want to get everything here sorted." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "So I was thinking…"

"Oh God," Tom chuckled as she swatted his arm. "What were you thinking, Darling?"

"A walk after lunch, you, me and a particular canine?"

"The woods?"

"Yep."

Tom wrapped his arms around her, "I think that is a wonderful idea." He leant down and kissed her. "I hate not being able to walk around with you in London."

"I do too, until you go out and are photographed going to Sainsbury's or going for a jog and am reminded that as soon as we are out, they will harass you again like they did when they were trying to get you to talk about Swift."

Tom's brow furrowed. "What about when they start harassing you, why would you be worried about when they are harassing me, I am used to it?"

"Well, I am working on me, so I know I am getting there, so I am worried about you," she explained before getting ready to mow Diana's lawn.

"I should do that." Tom edged forward towards the lawnmower.

"Do you know how?" Tom looked at her, insulted at her insinuation. "Okay," she backed off before turning to look at him again, "Don't forget to prime it though." She stated before going to get the bag to tidy the cut grass so that they could minimise the time it would take.

Tom looked at the lawnmower, wondering what she meant by priming it. After a few seconds of looking at the machine, he turned to see her looking at him expectantly. "I…"

"Never used a petrol one?"

"No, just electric." He admitted, relieved she was not using a ridiculing tone, but one of comprehension.

"Right, well, it is fairly simple." She dropped the bag down in a corner and walked over to him. "The primer is this red button under here," she bent down and showed him the button in question. "You push it three times to send petrol into the engine to start her up, then, you pull this lever here," She pulled a lever. "Keep it pulled, and you yank this rope back and it will start the motor." She explained, showing him by doing it. The motor roaring to life once more as she did so before she let go of the lever and it died again. "Now you try."

Tom slowly went through the steps she told him again and got it, for a moment, before leaving go of the lever. "What happened?"

"You let go, you kill it when you do that." She explained.

Tom smiled down at her. "How do you know all of this?"

"My dad told me to never depend on other people to do house chores, plumbing, electrics and tiling aside, every girl should know how to look after her house."

"I saw you fix mum's sink once." Tom corrected.

"That was cleaning the U-bend, that isn't plumbing, that is basic hygiene."

Tom leant down and kissed her again. "You are an incredible woman Danielle."

"Because I know how to use a lawnmower?" She stared at him as though he was mad.

"No, because you are so independent and strong." his smile fell slightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," she joked, before nodding slightly, noting his slight change of tone. "Sure, ask away."

"Would he have approved of me, your father?"

Danielle did not answer for a moment, not because she did not want to hurt Tom's feelings, but simply because she was assessing the question properly. "I think so."

"Really?"

"He would have joked about being thankful you're not a vet, he always was at me to never marry a vet, my life would be hell putting up with him. He would love how much respect you have for your mum, that would have been something he would focus on, and your sisters, that really mattered to him. That would have him approving in a second, hands down."

"My career?" that was where Danielle looked at him awkwardly. "Please, Elle, be honest."

"He would have worried. He didn't want me left raising a family by myself while my husband would be working as a vet, out a few times a night, or pretty much be a single mother in Springtime, so I can't imagine you going off for a few months would be something he would have been too pleased by, but that being said, my career isn't stationary either, I mean we are effectively in the same industry, so I think he would see that as a plus and badger me, and you too, to take jobs together."

"Do you think we ever will?"

"What, work on the same set?" Tom nodded. "Dunno, I mean there is a chance, but until I get a bit bigger, I am not sure, you are usually on big jobs, Marvel, Kong, that sort of thing, but who knows, the day might come."

"Would that bother you?"

"Yes, I mean how am I supposed to work if I have to try and function with your sexy ass nearby?" Danielle joked. "Before we make this public, if we were working together, yes, it would, because I would have to listen to every female and probably a man or two too, going on about how sexy you are; at least if it happens after, I can laugh at them saying I only got the job because of you and get to walk around knowing that for all their staring at your ass, I am the only one that gets to have it."

"Most definitely." Tom grinned.

"What about the other way around. How do you think you would feel me working close to you like that, barking orders at construction men and having directors angry that I am costing shooting hours because the set isn't to my standard?"

"Well I know you are a very meticulous woman of very high standards of quality in your life Ms Hughes, and regarding seeing you in action, telling those men what to do, I fear we would come to have an issue." He grinned.

"And what issue is that?" She asked, her brow raised.

"I would be very much inclined to find you the subject of daily lust that I would have to endure torturously before sating myself with you nightly."

"You are a fiend, Tom Hiddleston." She swatted his arm as she looked at him, her own lust rising at his words. "Now, enough dallying and mow the lawn, it will be your fortieth birthday before you are finished this, much less your next one if you keep trying to avoid housework."

Tom smiled as she walked around his mother's garden to pick up some plant debris as he did as she instructed and started the lawnmower.

*

"What about your mum?" Danielle looked at him as they walked through the woods, watching Mac sniff and mark nigh on every other tree. The leaves finally starting to consider coming out of their hibernation on the chilly but dry overcast February day. "Would she have approved?"

"Can I ask why this even matters?"

Tom's pace faltered slightly. "She wouldn't have?"

"No, I think she would, but why does it even matter, they are not here, they cannot have an opinion on this."

"Is it wrong for me to want to know if my partner's parents would like me?" Tom asked. "You know what my parents think of you."

"Your parents make it very clear what they think of people and to be honest, that's not a bad thing either."

"Elle?"

"Look, Mam would have thought you a gentleman, she would have fawned over you and dare I admit it, giggled like a schoolgirl at you saying you love things in the house and probably get smitten," she stated factually before looking at him again. "Now, why does this matter now?"

"Mum asked me yesterday was I going to Ireland for your grandmother's anniversary, I said no and mentioned what you said about your aunt not approving of me, which led to mum making a comment about her opinion not being the one that would have mattered, but your parents and she was sure they would have approved of me, but of course, we have no way to know that," Tom explained.

Danielle thought over his words for a moment, glad to understand why he had asked such a random question. "My aunt is a battle-axe. Literally, you could have two Oscars, four Golden Globes and a couple of Grammy's and she would think you not good enough for our family, she cost her daughter a marriage to a guy she really loved because of her notions. But Dad wasn't like her, they were from the same house but he was a farmer's son and he never forgot it. He earned more than his dad ever did, he had a bigger, nicer house, he had fancier things but he was a farmer's son and no way would he forget it. It doesn't matter if we had a dining room as well as a kitchen, it was the same food on fancier plates as my grandfather put it that was served. Bacon and cabbage, stew and all that, no fancy posh meals. I remember Mam served him some pizza once, he asked what the fuck squashed his quiche." she laughed, Tom quickly joined in. "My aunt acts as though they were landed gentry and not from 'knee-high in cow shit' as my dad used to say."

"I see where you got your love of swearing."

"Stop, Mam used to give out to him for swearing so much."

"Was she the rock of sense?"

Danielle looked at him bemusedly. "Tom, I swear, her way of saying 'stop swearing' was, and I swear this is the truth 'watch your fucking language'." Tom erupted in laughter at that, so much so that Mac stopped sniffing a plant and looked around at them.

"You're not serious, please tell me that's the truth," Tom begged.

Danielle raised her hand as though she was about to swear on a bible. "I solemnly swear, that is what she used to say. And dad used to give out to her for it then and blame her for my foul mouth, both using expletives in doing so and with Mam bearing arms with some form of kitchen utensil in her hand."

"That is brilliant." Tom chuckled.

"Yeah, so that is my parents."

"I wish I could have met them."

"Well, if you had, I would not have been in England, so you would not have known who they were." Danielle pointed out. "But yes, I wish you could have. Dad would have loved you, a fellow Jameson man. He'd have hammered the GAA into you though."

"Did he not like soccer and rugby?"

"Nah, he had no time for them 'foreign games'," she explained. "I mean he'd watch them yeah, on the telly, but not in an 'oh great, the soccer's on, stop what we are doing and pop it on' sort of way." She explained.

"So he didn’t follow a team?"

"Ireland in major tournaments, obviously, but his brother lived near Highbury as a young man, so Arsenal." Tom came to a halt. "What?"

"You had family in London?"

"Pretty much everyone in Ireland has someone who came over to work for a while."

"Where is he now?"

"New York."

"That's a far cry from a farm."

"Yeah, and the farce is he went all the way to America to marry a woman from Mayo." Danielle laughed.

"I am afraid that means nothing to me."

"Mayo is the county next to Galway, he went New York to marry a woman from seventy kilometres away," She explained, Tom laughed at that. "So yeah."

"Okay, that is very funny," Tom admitted. "So your parents, they would have been happy with me?"

"Well, since I am a short-arse, Dad would have been harping on about you giving any kids we have some height, important in a good hurler, and Mam would think you too thin."

"If it meant more food like yours I would have been happy enough." Tom chuckled, putting his arm around her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sad I never got to tell them about you, to get to bring you over and show them that I am actually able to get a decent guy, that's all they wanted."

"I'm sorry, Darling."

"Don't be, they'd tell me to cop on to myself and be happy."

"It's done?"

"It's done." She smiled, extending her hand to him.

Tom looked at it for a moment, Danielle was never one to be overly affectionate in public in any manner, he had heard her scoff at people who were overly affectionate, but considering that she had just spoken of her parents, he knew she felt somewhat vulnerable and took her hand in his, bringing hers to his lips. "Are you scared of being seen?"

"It's a woods, besides, I am more scared of losing you for something so stupid as not showing you how much I care about you."

Tom's eyes lit up at her admission, insisting on having his hand in close proximity to hers for the rest of the walk when he was not holding it, close enough for her to feel it occasionally brush against it as they did so.

*

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Thomas, Happy Birthday to you."

Tom hid his face in his hands as everyone sang to him, his mum holding his shoulders as Danielle laughed as Tom's face began to redden. "You know what to do," She joked, "You've had enough of these things by now."

"Sarah, Elle's calling you old," He joked.

"Oi!" Sarah swatted Danielle, who laughed more.

"I did not!"

"I am older than him," She pointed out.

"Crap," Danielle commented. "Sorry."

"No, you're not," Emma whispered in her ear with a big smile.

"Shh," she giggled back.

Tom watched as they acted as they always had before the conflict before Christmas. "Can I eat this now? Mum, as usual, you bake the best cake."

"After you blow out the candles," His niece's tone was scolding.

"Of course, how silly of me. Will you help?"

"Because everyone loves saliva covered cake." Danielle laughed.

"She is just trying to help." Tom admonished.

"I am talking about you spitting and dribbling, old man," Danielle commented, as his sisters, their husbands and his mother laughed, Tom rose to his feet. "Eep." Danielle used that moment to scarper around to the other side of the table.

"Are you sorry?" He demanded, trying to get her to go around the table towards him.

"Not really, no." Danielle laughed while remaining on the far side of the table.

"Actual children." Emma scoffed.

"The five-year-old is more mature than the two of you combined," Sarah added, but the smile on her face showed how elated she was for her brother to finally appear to be genuinely happy.

"He started it." Danielle pointed to Tom.

"How did I start it, you are the one calling me old."

"You spent your morning looking for grey hairs and checking your hairline." She laughed.

"Right," Tom thought strategically for a moment and used Jack as a barricade to keep Danielle pinned while he took the other direction.

"What, no." Danielle used her small height to her advantage and slipped through the Brother-in-law barricade and rushed for the door. "Woohoo."

"How is she nearly thirty, no really, how is that woman your best friend?" Jack asked Emma who was too busy doubled over laughing at Tom who was still seemingly trying to compute how Danielle had gotten out. A moment later, her phone went off. From where he as standing, Jack could see the message, which he read aloud. "I win, someone owes me cake."

Tom stormed out of the room and towards the sitting room, having not heard Danielle go upstairs. "Where are you?"

"Not here." She replied, her tone light.

Looking around the door, he saw her looking at him cautiously. "You are a terror," he grinned, looking down at her from his far taller frame. "I am going to have to get you for that."

"But then you won't get your present." She threatened.

"I told you not to get me anything, the breakaway for Christmas was enough." He scolded. Danielle bit her lips together. "What is it?"

"You don't have to."

"Elle?" She pulled out an envelope from her pocket, folded over from bring shoved in there. "What is it?"

She handed it to him. "It's not Rome, and I don't have a private jet." He gave her a look to tell her to cease talking like that. "I just thought, after our conversation the other day."

He opened the envelope to see a small piece of paper inside, which contained two dates for after the Kong tour. "Where is Shannon?"

"An airport."

"Where?"

"Clare, Ireland."

"You want to bring me home with you?"

"I have no one to really show you to, well my aunts and them are there, but since you asked about all of that."

Tom looked at the paper in his hand and thought about it, a small smile coming to his face. "It's better than Rome."

"Okay, there's no need to lie, it's not but it's home," Danielle smiled.

"No, Elle. It is where you are from, I get to see what moulded you, it is better." He confirmed. "I cannot wait to see it."

"You were in Ireland before."

"Yes, the other side of the country, I always wanted to see the part of the country that inspired the great scholars there."

"You're in for a treat with Connemara and all that so, but we also have to go to West Cork."

"What's there?"

"My mam's lot."

"What are they like?"

"Nice, country stock as well, there's just one issue..."

"What?" Tom asked worriedly.

"Remember those two brothers that won the silver medals in rowing for Ireland in the last Olympics?"

"Yes," Tom looked at her, elongating the word as he spoke. "They are from around there, aren't they?"

"About forty minutes from my Mams."

"Wait, does everyone there speak like that?"

"Not usually as strong, but broadly similar."

"Oh God, this will be hilarious." Tom chuckled.

"They won't have a clue what you are saying."

"The feeling, I can assure you, is going to be mutual," He smiled, kissing her. "I am going to get you for the old man comments."

"After cake?"

"After cake," He confirmed before kissing her again.

"Euch!" they turned to see a disgusted face of regretful curiosity before the Duchess fled the room again. "They're kissing."

[ddaeng-angmoh]

Your Den or Mine?

When Yoongi was abandoned by his creator, he lost himself in the darkness. He had never had any hope for love or even his own humanity. When a human stumbled into his forest he thought that maybe that could change, but he forgot that humans have a mind of their own, and his woman might not like being pulled into his world.

Date: March 1st

Word Count: 5,660

Genre: Angst, Fluff

@yeontanismypresident

 As science changed so did the world and its laws of morality. Society had finally found a way to mix the DNA of humans and animals to produce organs for surgeries. Humans no longer had to wait in long lines in order to get the body parts they needed, instead, their own DNA could be used to incubate the needed organs inside of the bodies of animals. The situation was revolutionary and changed the medical field forever. This meant that the race for organ transplants was still large, but suddenly it was so much more manageable. But with this realization the rich started funding projects to make a proper chimera, they wanted to have their own pets. Humans with the features of animals that they could keep and own, something that would be interesting and only draw more attention to their wealth. So it happened, scientists were able to use the medical developments of the organ growing chimeras to make human hybrids. Suddenly the anime cliches of girls with the ears and tails of cats existed, the world was changing and people were frantically trying to see how they could change the dynamics of their lives. Instead of miscarriages, scientists worked to incubate the abandoned eggs and sought to modify them so they could grow into these hybrids. Creatures of every kind were being tested for compatibility. There were canines, amphibians, fish, felines, everything was being tested, but some became more attractive than others. In both looks, and mannerisms.

The hybrids that were grown were seen not seen as humans, after all, they had the DNA of animals coursing through them. They were tagged and told that they were not to be seen on the tier of humans and told they existed for the temporary excitement of their owners. In their race to ignore the possible humanity of their creatures scientists only examined their emotional intelligence. This was because if they tested any further they might have to admit that these hybrids were just as human as the people working on the hybrids. Instead, the focus was on whether the traits of their animal side was dangerous or too odd. If their quirks were too unfamiliar then scientists would attempt to take it from them. If it was too dangerous, they were locked away. They couldn’t be sold, after all, they could harm the people around them without the understanding that their actions were improper.

That was why Yoongi was sitting by a lake, waiting in a damp forest. He had been abandoned long ago, he had been a disaster from the start. He had the honour of being a snake hybrid, not only was he not cute and fluffy, but his sharp teeth and scaled skin intimidated the strongest of buyers. He had lived his life alone in a containment facility. His creator had been enamoured with snakes and had found a breed that reminded him of home. When he produced Yoongi, he had hoped he had made a hybrid that would be as beautiful as its origin and as docile as a common pet. But that was not what happened. Yoongi produced venom much like the mamushi snake he had been derived from, and his attitude was dark and hostile. He was friendly enough, but he had little patience for things that bored him, and he was quick to send away all those that annoyed him. He never had the hope of being adopted, of being a sullen owned half-breed. Though he supposed that was not such a bad thing. Despite that, Yoongi still felt insufferably alone. When the scientist had realized that Yoongi had no hope of being adopted, no chance of being loved, he let him go. He released Yoongi into a forest in a reclusive part of their country and left the hybrid to fend for himself.

Yoongi had hated the scientist for a long time, he had been fearful of going mad, or of dropping into the instinctual mood of his predatory side. But Yoongi had survived, he had managed to make a home in the lonely forest. He had found a cave that was humid in the summer. He had taken to curling up in the heat and relaxing in the warm weather, but when the cold came he would scurry to the back and drop into a hibernate like state. As much as the scientists wished that he was more like the creature he was modelled after, he truly wasn’t. His body was not made to live off of only a few months of food then lie in wait for the warmth. So every season when the heat came back he would pull himself from the cave taunt and malnourished and try to keep going. The strain on his body left him feeling useless, there was nobody and nothing by his side. He felt as though there was little he could do. He wished he could move in the cold, he wished he could go out into society. But he knew the scales that speckled around his eyes, and the sharp point of his teeth made his origins obvious. He could never last in the cold without becoming lethargic, and he could never get adopted with his sullied origins. Yoongi had become well aware that his life was simply to remain in such a strained state. Never warm enough, never full enough, and never content. It was the life he was due simply because a man had played god with his DNA. There was no way for him to escape, at least, that was what he had always thought.

Yoongi’s days of loneliness had ended when he heard giggles in the forest. His fingers had been skimming the cool water of the lake, the smell of rocks and insects had his tongue flicking in his mouth. It took all his control to block out the overwhelming scents of nature, it was then that he smelt something odd. Something man-made, he could smell chemicals in the air, it made his skin crawl and reminded him of his days in the clean room. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and walked along the damp foliage. His shoes were well worn and he could feel everything he stepped on through the thin bottoms, but he was well used to the wet weeds and moist dirt. It was warmest by the lake after all, so it was where he spent his time. The heat from summer would hit the lake and spin the air with such humidity that he could feel his scales shiver with pleasure. He wondered if the humans that were wandering around his forest were seeking the same respite from the cold. Even in the summer it could sneak along the wind and harass his sensitive skin. But it was his home so, with curiosity, he wandered along the trees so he could see the group. Two females were walking along his forest giggling amongst each other. He had no plan to watch them, at least until he saw you. His sharp gaze had landed on you and he watched with fascination. Something about you caught his gaze, he wasn’t sure if it was the way you watched your friend with amusement, laughing as much as you watched out for her. Or if it was because your hands were always ready to steady your friend, as much as you were excited to move along the small path.

"The campground isn’t far, right?“ Your voice was music to his ears, he hadn’t met many women in his time contained. The ones he did were cold and clinical, much like his creator. They prodded him and asked him questions, never speaking with the tender tone you did. He supposed it was your voice that caught him at the start because the chance to hear something so rare and delicate was intoxicating.

"Well, it isn’t much of a campground now.” Your friend spoke warily, with a sheepish look. Her voice was nice, he supposed, but it lacked the delightful lilt you had. So Yoongi tilted his head and watched the girls walk further away, not dwelling any further on your friend. He knew the place she spoke of, and he didn’t think it was good enough for you. The forest used to be a tourist area, but when the local mine shut down the people left the local area and it lost its interest. The campground still existed but much of it had grown over, there were only a few safe areas. So for you, it wouldn’t be comfortable.

"Of course, because when you said I was going to help with your photography project that obviously meant an abandoned campground.“ Your sarcasm was sharp and Yoongi felt his lips curl in amusement as he listened. His steps were silent against the plants as he followed you, he knew your words would disappear if you saw him. A monster like him was only made to create fear after all. So he licked his lips from his stress, and the simple action filled his senses with your scent. He knew the sweet smell was you, who else would smell so delicate?

"Hey, you voted for roughing it.” Your friend smiled at you, and Yoongi wondered if all women could smile as nicely as you did when you looked back at your friend. Yoongi brushed his hair out of his face to see you better, but as he did he saw the speckles of scales that littered his hand. He couldn’t forget his place, he wasn’t just a hybrid, after all, he was also a monster. The teeth that rested in his mouth contained toxic venom, which was most definitely dangerous for humans. The venom was nothing compared the brown and black scales that littered his skin, flowering on his pale skin. Even his looks were abhorrent.

"I didn’t vote for being alone in a forest, what if we die,“ you said your words with little fear. You didn’t believe that any harm could come to you, you had never encountered anything truly dangerous after all. So why would such a worry be on your mind? But Yoongi saw the danger, so your words scared him. He was going to leave you and your friend behind, he truly was. Or he had wanted to at least but what kind of person would he have to be to leave you alone? Your friend hadn’t brought anything to protect you, and you looked so delicate so he couldn’t let you be alone. It would be his fault if you got hurt, and he never wanted to see the pain on your face.

Which was why when you had gotten to the campground and found the clearest spot, Yoongi had sat down in the foliage and watched with a curious expression as you sent up the tent. The thin fabric perplexed him, it couldn’t protect you if the weather turned. He was no stranger to the rain and storms that flooded his forest, such a small thing would blow over leaving you and your friend cold and uncomfortable in the chill. His small cave would be much safer, he had filled it with things left by the other humans, it was safe and comfortable. You wouldn’t have the same worries about the weather, not if he was the one to provide for you. His den had taken him a long time to put together, it was perfect for him so wouldn’t that mean it was perfect for you? But your friend, he wasn’t sure he liked her yet and he would never open his den to a stranger. She was pretty, of course, he found women had a natural beauty about them, but beauty meant nothing to him. Beauty did not create trust after all, so if he were to choose a mate, someone to share his den with he would never use beauty as a measure. Somehow he knew that if he had to choose a mate, he would want you. He had heard the scientists bring it up many times, hybrids had a capability to mate with humans. It wasn’t abnormal, but he had always known he would never get a chance to. Not only was his bite deathly but he would never get adopted and thus never get a chance to find a woman he wanted. Yet there was the beautiful you, with the tender voice and soft eyes. He wanted to cherish the look on your innocent face, he wanted to protect you and provide for you as your mate. But he hadn’t even said a word to you yet. He was unsure how humans told their mates they wanted them, but all he knew was he wanted you with him and not your friend. So he leaned against the tree and waited, his eyes sliding closed as he basked in the heat of the summer day.

Yoongi was well acquainted with waiting, he spent half of the year doing so after all. He had become used to laying in the ripped blankets, waiting for winter to end. He had gotten used to the bone weary tiredness that overtook him by the time summer hit, and the wait for some food to come anywhere near him. He would wait, and wait, and rest until something came close enough for him to feed and gain even a miniscule amount of energy. So when the sun had fallen away, leaving the scent of night teasing at his nose, he had opened his eyes with a peaceful sigh. He wasn’t sure if he could hold in his excitement but he knew he had to try. His joints ached, and he had to stretch when he got up. His body was still malnourished, his life in the wilderness was harmful to his human side. Despite that, he had no wish to go back to the sheltered life he had lived before. He preferred the aches of his weary limbs over the crushing loneliness and judging glares he had garnered from the scientists. The thoughts made his eyes droop with his resentment, but he shoved it away so he could focus on the tent he was approaching. His fingers grasped with zipper, and he slowly pulled it up so he could look inside the tent. He saw your friend first, she was curled up in her sleeping bag with her fingers gripping the man-made fabric close. Dismissing her he looked past her form and smiled when he saw you laying as if in wait for him. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were parted just enough for him to see how plush they were. He bit his lip softly, ignoring the sharp pinch against his skin. You were so beautiful, he was unsure how he had never seen someone as gorgeous as you. But, he supposed that was because there may not be anyone else like you.

He pulled you into his arms with a soft sigh of exertion, Yoongi was strong enough to hold you but he wasn’t used to using his muscles. He had no real use for strength, he had what he needed without any real use of force. A simple bite could take down the things he feared, all he needed was the speed he used to maneuver from what he perceived as dangerous. He hummed the thoughts away as he slowly zipped the tent closed, carrying you towards his den. He didn’t like the feeling of the sleeping bag you were nestled in. The fabric was abrasive against his skin and lacked any real cloth, it felt more like a smooth plastic than anything he would enjoy. But you seemed to enjoy it, so he let you remain inside. His hold was gentle, and his steps were quiet as he moved. He was scared he would wake you, he didn’t want to disturb your rest. His mate deserved the best after all, and if you wanted to be in peace you should have it. Yoongi felt a stirring of guilt in his chest as he ducked under a branch, avoiding the trees as much as he could for you. He was terrified that you would hate him when you awoke and saw his scale speckled face. He was not a cat, he was not a dog, and he knew humans preferred such creatures. But he had chosen you, so that was that, mating was a choice after all. If he chose you then that was it, wasn’t it? Yoongi hadn’t learned much about love, he knew nothing about it just that it was an elusive thing connected to mating. So if he chose you as his mate, you must love him, and he must love you. Such thoughts set him at ease.

"I promise I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi said as he ducked into his cave. The stone face was low, but the inside was tall and deep. Its low entrance kept the wind and rain out, letting him curl in his blankets in peace whenever the cold took him over and kept any possible bears from coming upon him as he slept. He had problems with some other creatures, but it never lasted long before he made it out safely. His ability to keep his den safe, he hoped you would appreciate it, and that you would know he could keep you safe so you would never have to fear. He heaved out a sigh as he laid you down on his pile of blankets. The cloth was scavenged from when the humans had left the nearby town. Most places had been cleared out, but some places like the homeless shelters had things left behind. He had brought everything he thought he could use. There was a little table off to the side, he never used it but it held books warped from the humid air. There was a tarp along the ground that held all his blankets, keeping the cloth from getting wet, but the sharp scent of mould still hit his nose. He could do nothing for the moist air or its manner of destroying his things. The best he could do was to make a small cover for the entrance of his cave. It was a shabby thing made of planks and covered in tarp and it did nothing for the air but it did its job enough that he felt safe in his little den. Yoongi curled up beside you, relaxing as the scent of his den filled his nose. He could taste you beside him, and that alone helped his eyes slide shut and left his muscles loose. With you by his side, he knew he would never have to worry about sleep again.

 Yoongi woke up to the sound of you shuffling in your sleeping bag, he could smell your scent turn sour as your confusion rose. It wasn’t a pleasant smell at all, in fact, he was quite sure it was a smell he would prefer to never smell again. He missed the sweet way you had smelt the day before when you had been laughing with your friend. “What’s wrong?” He opened his eyes, questioning you with a confused expression perched on his sharp face. Your face was beautiful up close, and he found it cute how you stared with eyes so wide with your own confusion. Your lips parted and he wondered why you weren’t saying anything, it was frustrating to him. You had been so kind with your friend, he had spent the whole day previous wondering what it would sound like for you to give him the beautiful words you had.

"Who are you?“ When you finally spoke it was with a tense body and clenched fingers. You could see only faintly in the cave, the entrance only let in a little bit of light after all. Yoongi’s face was only a shadow in the darkness, but that didn’t alleviate your fear at all. To wake up in a strange place, alone with a male you had never seen before was a terrifying experience. The only reason you had yet to run was that you were so just as scared as you were lost. To be in the presence of such a stranger who had managed to steal you away in the night meant that you had no idea if he would kill you with any move. Perhaps you were selfish, but you wanted to live, you didn’t want to lose your life, and so you stared at him through the darkness hoping that it was all some sick dream. But the sharp scent of decay and musk convinced you that your dream may just be the reality.

"Yoongi,” his voice was harsh to your ears. Yoongi was just as scared as you, after all, he was so used to humans running from him that he feared you would as well. “Are you hungry? I can find you something,” he was eager to please you, he wanted you to think that he was a viable mate. Yoongi didn’t want to let you think that he would ever leave you lacking, he had to prove himself after all. “Y/n?” His nose bumped your neck as he opened his mouth, tasting your scent again. The sour scent made him choke and back away, looking at you with growing annoyance.

"How do you know who I am,“ you shot back at his actions, your voice wavering as your hands slipped on the stone you had backed onto. Your body fell back and you hit the rock with a heavy gasp following as you stared up at the ceiling of the cave. Your vision was only clear for moments before he was hovering over you, his brown eyes focused with worry. Your heart stuttered with fear when you saw scales surrounding his eyes, like tears around his pale skin. A hybrid. You had never owned one, you never believed in the containment of humans. No matter what anyone said you knew they had intellect and that they were no more a pet than you were. But you weren’t ignorant, you knew that they were dangerous because as human as they were they had the instincts of an animal. You knew that even though they were made to be pets, most never made the cut, snakes included. The reptiles were not able to fit into society smoothly enough, the few that managed to get adopted were put down due to their lack of restraint. The snakes were volatile and had a habit of biting the people that got in their way, something that was dangerous when some had inherited the venom of their animal side.

"I saw you yesterday, I watched you,” Yoongi spoke quietly, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. It was a success that you hadn’t screamed or ran. You loved him too, he believed that completely. “I knew when I first saw you, you’re perfect. I couldn’t find anyone better than you.” He was ignorant to your shaking fingers that pressed against the ground as if that would steady you. He couldn’t see the way you flinched when he leaned in closer. All he could see was your beautiful eyes looking at him, and your delicate nose that sloped so gently that he wondered if you were sculpted instead of born. He could see the questions in your eyes, and his lips curled into a smile at how attractive you looked under him. Docile, but he could feel the spark of life in you. “You’re mine, Y/n. You’re my mate,” he said with wonder evident in his voice. His head ducked low again as he took in your scent. He could smell something else within the sour fear radiating from you, something that gave him hope.

"I have a boyfriend,“ the lie fell from your shaking lips as you tried to steady your breath. You were rightfully terrified, but there was a primal attraction when he spoke so definitively. You had never liked the thought of being owned, yet you had always felt arousal at the thought of being claimed. The idea that somebody could want you so much that they would do such a thing. It was a conflicting pleasure, something that gave you guilt as much as it did attraction. Your sins had finally caught up to you, your silent dreams had lead you into the den of a likely venomous hybrid. They had lead you right into his arms, and right under his lithe body.

"Not anymore,” Yoongi may have been a snake, but the growl that shook his at his vocal cords was worthy of any wild feline. The thought that you belonged to anyone else terrified him, he could feel his fangs ache with the venom that flowed through them. His creator had never removed the glands that produced his venom, he had planned to release Yoongi the whole time. But in the situation where he was hovering over his mate, he regretted such a thing. No matter how much safety it gave him, any moment where he could hurt his mate was petrifying. “You’re mine, I’m the one who will protect you, and I am the one who will provide for you.” He breathed out heavily through his nose, trying to repress his frustration. But it was impossible, knowing that his mate had another was enough to make him snap. He had finally made it out of the darkness, he had finally found a way to stop being alone and some stranger miles away risked it all being destroyed. You were terrified beneath him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to notice. Instead, his thoughts were focused on how he could replace your fictional boyfriend, he couldn’t be a good mate if he knew you had another on your mind after all.

Your breaths steadied slowly, and you matched him without a second thought. You felt suffocated under him, waiting in the silence for any reaction. His body above yours was encompassing, and every moment under him caused his eyes to darken until all you saw was black. What little light illuminated his face only made you notice the predatory look in his eyes and the stiff setting of his jaw. But he, he felt completely different from you. Yoongi felt empowered, he felt safe, and he felt insufferably warm. You felt like the sun to him, the heat of your gaze settled in his bones and left him with a relief he only felt after hours in the sun. Your fearful gaze only reminded him how delicate you were, and made him want to pull you deeper into his den and hold you close. It made him want to mark you, a dry bite wouldn’t harm you, and he was almost tempted to risk it. He wanted to smell himself off of you, he could almost imagine how you would smell with a bit of him curled within you. He imagined that nothing could smell better than such a thing and he didn’t want to risk a stranger marking you first. No man could have you, no, he would never let another man touch you. But his dreams meant nothing when you were settled beneath him so silently. “Say something,” Yoongi slammed his palm down by your head, desperate for your acknowledgment to his words. But you couldn’t find anything to say, what was there to say after all? You could see the feral look in his eyes, the reptile that was ready to strike, and you knew your life was something that could easily be lost if the wrong thing was said.

Yoongi was thirsty for your attention, he longed for you to reach up and take his face into his hands. He wanted to feel you pull him to your neck, he wanted you to surrender yourself to him and let him take over. His sheer want for you was filling him, he needed to claim you, he needed to prove that you were his and his alone. But the way you looked into his eyes told him that there was something else that needed attention. Because he knew you were scared of him, he could see the growing confusion, the hatred. “Pay attention to me!” His voice echoed off the stone, filling the den with the sound of his desperation. It couldn’t happen, you couldn’t say no, you couldn’t. You were his, you had to say yes, you loved him didn’t you? He loved you, after all, so you had to, you had to. That was how it worked he took you to his den and you said yes, that was it.

"I hate you,“ the words spilled from your lips. Your determination was so strong, but Yoongi only chuckled. His lips curled up and he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against the tender skin of your jaw. With a flick of his tongue, he licked your tender skin, revelling in the taste of you. You couldn’t, you couldn’t hate him. That wasn’t how it worked. You were his, and only his. You had lied about a boyfriend because you didn’t know what he had for you, but he knew best. You would drop the facade and you would come to him with understanding.

"No, you don’t,” Yoongi said with a shaky laugh. His eyes were burning with his determination, you loved him too. His nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his hollowed fangs brushed against your skin, still stiff with venom. “You can’t hate me, because I love you.” His words were convincing enough for him, it was his own reality. But if you fought, there must have been a reason, there must have been a source of your agitation. He blinked slowly and moved off of you. His scrawny frame was still taller than yours, towering over you as he stood and looked down at you on the ground. “Is it the den? I thought you would like it, but humans. They like other things,” he tilted his head curiously, and the scales on his neck caught the light as he moved. He had seen how tightly the humans had clutched their possessions as they left their town behind. “You want your den,” his voice trailed off as he grasped your hand to pull you up. You had the audacity to push yourself up off of the ground, and that made his nose flare with frustration. But he had to be understanding, he needed to be. His mate was just confused, he must have moved too fast.  You didn’t understand that you were supposed to lean on him. “We’ll go to your den then,” he brushed your jaw with his thumb and smiled. He had such hopes for his own den, he had dreamt of a night spent curled up in his own cave with you happy in his arms. But his love wanted her own home, and he could not fault you for that. He had to be the one to make the sacrifice.

"No!“ Your voice was sharp, piercing the cave with its pitch. Your words stirred the reptile within him, your reaction was unacceptable. Yoongi grasped your neck and pulled you close, the feeling of your chest hitting his was a small relief that gave him the strength to not act. He had been scared he would harm you, but he felt the restraint, and the need to coddle you. You were precious to him after all, and everything within him knew that.

"Yes,” his thumb gently stroked your neck, as if his hold wasn’t lethal. “I go where my mate goes, and my beautiful mate wants to go home. Doesn’t she?” He watched your eyes flicker, and he held onto to euphoria that you were looking right at him. Your attention was completely on him, and there was nothing else that was taking you from him. He felt as though he could watch you for years, your beauty was mesmerizing enough that he had forgiven your shout.

"Y-yes,“ you said. The stutter only drew a growing smile from his dried lips. Yoongi truly believed that even your fear was enticing. It was as though everything that you did was a mating call that begged him to bit into your delicate neck and mark you as his. Everything about you was enough to make him abandon his den which was the one place where he could ever feel safe. But you were worth it. So instead of responding, he let his grip on your neck loosen, and his palms ran down your body until his hands were on your waist. The silence in the cave was nothing to him, but he could feel your shaking under his pale skin.

"Then let’s go home.” Yoongi hummed as his grip on your waist tightened. He knew it was silly to fear you disappearing but it was all he knew. Your weary eyes and quivering lips were enough to make him want to pull you against him and into his blankets. It made him want to hold you tight and never let go, to sleep away even the summer if it meant that you stayed with him. But he knew that your refusal from before was over, you had finally realized what he wanted. You had realized that all he wanted was to love you. He wanted to keep you and let everyone know that you were his and that you would only mate with him, and him alone. He didn’t know what would happen in the future when he went home with you, but he knew that he would never take no for an answer. Wherever you went he would go as well, after all, that was what a lover did.

[shadowmooncat]

Moody Months and Lucky Ones

The List of months based on how good they are, A small prediction.

January= Finding little bits of pennies, little bits of luck, more loads put on me back til it ends. Hard work and trials on this month.

February= the year of love, plenty of time to express my love to my wife. Lots of good food and things to enjoy, a relief month from the last. A good time to enjoy yourself.

March= March of the next stage. Feels like an upgrade and things will show improvement. Its the rewards from January on this month that will appear. All in all it will be a good bad well balanced month with at least three big changes. No idea if its bad or good.

April= Might be a bit of a death month. Realization month for moi. Feels like that time in your life when you reflect about things and how this time youll make it worth it. Its a motivator month and a de motivator month all in one. Small little swigs will be a good thing. Little bits of joy here and there will push you through this month.

May= Blossom season. The time when things will be more en joyful. a bit of a fruitful month and opportunity will arise more this time. Its a good air and a good expression. A happy in the heart month but also one where youll be the most poor. Rich at heart poor in pockets. Time to lay back a bit if you like or try a little for those fruits i mentioned.

June= An expression month. The one month that feels like a strong wall but at the same time to get out those unanswered feelings and questions out. Its the one month where seriousness is valued a bit. Its also a month where you will have it back just as much. Its a test of patience and anger. Dont let it fool you, if you react wrongly in this month it may be game over! worse if you dont let the other have a chance.

July= As usual a celebration month, although it may be a small one. Like waving a small flag and yaying away. July is also a month to see so much patriotism. Not that its a surprising thing. July has a shocking revelations coming, their a bit like small ones that build into a big one. If your lucky you might have a good batch, it will be the best day to find quarters.

August= oh man here we go again.. you know that feeling like ugh im tired of it I want it to end! your gonna be feeling that a bit, Its gonna be tight on money just because august is a bit of a simplistic month where money will be taken from you. Youll be more happy this one is over due to its needlessly giving you tasks and the feeling of tiredness. Feels like an early hibernation and cranky month.

September= too much tenseness, its one where you reflect on the bad things but at the same time that fear and tenseness might be good. youll be more cautious about others feelings and word things right. Its best to admire this month though not go into it with a lot of cheer and glee as others tend to hate that. The reason why is they say “why would you be happy this is the month that *INSERT HERE* happened!” People will definitely give you bark if you go into this month cheery. Try to stay out of its way. Pennies will be a bit fruitful around.

October= Let your real darkside out. Spook around a bit but not too spooky! youll be shot by the cops! enjoy this month with its free candy and low costs, This is one of those times you can forget the real world and dive into your own. People may be a bit offended but thats because there will be a bit of old types. For everyone to enjoy this try to stick to the holiday. Dont mention it too much though, we know you love it but others may tolerate it. Keep your emotions a bit more at ease too and wind down at the end of it. I think dimes might happen this month.

November= Start of the shrivel times. Things go into overdrive a bit this time. Store and pack and keep things ready for the next month. Also its a good time to get information on things in the world. See how others are doing and talk a bit to family. Its thanksgiving I think. Not too bad of a time. Definitely fill your belly. Go off into a quiet sleep at the end, money will be just enough to keep you going. Too much may make you a bit pressured.

December= Holidays! money, more friends more things, the time when you can lay a bomb down or a fake mask! Its one of those months where if you get good or bad news it will always end in merry christmas. Its also the time the new year will approach. Get sick off of songs, eggnog, family and more. Let them pay for it if your tight on cash which you might have to be to prepare for next year. Enjoy the time you see people like family and more, you may not see them till this month rolls back in again. The strangest things will happen this time of year too. Its a bit like something or someone showing up youll never knew existed or forgot that did. Try to wear yourself out so youll be grumpy next year too.

These are My predictions for the month of 2020. DO not take them literally its all just for fun like the tag says! JUST FOR FUN! and also have a good year.

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Winter Nights

Summary:  It can be hard dealing with all the snow and the cold, especially for four little turtles. But, even the harshest times of the year can still bring light and joy - their father will make sure of that.

((This story is also posted on AO3. Unfortunately I can’t provide a link since Tumblr’s still being weird about links showing up in tags, but if you can, please hop over there and give this story a kudos or a comment. Anyway, enjoy! ^v^))

Even with how deep they were underground, he could hear the wind howling above. His hearing was much sharper now, thanks to the mutation… Though, if he was being honest, he was more thankful for the warm fur covering his body than the increased strength in his senses. Especially now, with four small, cold bodies clinging to him.

Lou Jitsu sighed, watching his breath form a cloud in front of him before evaporating. Taking a moment to pull the thick blanket tighter around him, he then started absentmindedly petting the head of one of his boys, though he wasn’t really sure which one. Not that it really mattered, he was pretty sure none of them could feel it anyway.

He had been afraid - completely and utterly terrified - the morning he had been unable to wake any of his sons up. However, a bit of research gave him some relief, and he prayed that they would all wake up as happy and healthy as usual once the hibernation season was over. But until then, all he could do was hold them and keep them warm.

“What I wouldn’t give for a kotatsu right now,” Lou mumbled, resting his tired head against the cold metal of the sewer pipe, “Or maybe just a strong drink…” If only he could fall into his own hibernation… Just fall into a deep, peaceful sleep and forget all his troubles.

Underneath the blanket, he felt a couple of his sons start to shiver. So, he sat up and hunched over the small bodies in his lap, protecting the baby turtles as best he could.

Above them, people cheered and screamed despite the cold, with the bright lights and the city-wide celebration being more than enough to tempt most into braving the harsh winds and frigid temperatures.

()()()()()()()()()()()

“Why’re we so sleepy all the time now, Papa?”

“Because it’s winter,” Lou answered simply, “And you are turtles. Turtles get sleepy in the winter. Remember that picture book I gave you?”

Donatello pouted. Of course he remembered, he had read that book back and forth looking for answers, and had only found simple statements. “But why? Why do we have to be so sleepy in winter?” He stumbled forward, clinging tightly to his father’s robe and acting more like the youngest of their family rather than the second oldest. “It’s not fair… I don’t wanna sleep…”

Lou patted the softshell’s head. “I know you are frustrated, Purple, but winter will be over soon.”

“Not soon enough,” the boy pouted. Knowing he wouldn’t be in the mood to walk, Lou picked him up and carried him over to the heat lamp that had been set up in the corner of the small, stone room. The lamp had been a miracle of a find, as were the small space heaters he had managed to discover and fix up before the city dump had been almost completely covered in snow. But, even with there being plenty of heat sources, it still wasn’t warm enough to keep his boys awake, nor were the lamps and heaters comforting enough to keep them from wanting to cuddle up next to their rat-dad at least once a day.

As he got closer to the cuddle pile, he could see that Donnie wasn’t the only one awake. While Mikey and Leo were happily sleeping the season away, Raphael was lying on his back, looking restless and annoyed. Lou made sure to give him a couple pats as well.

“Why can’t we move somewhere with no winter, Pop?” Raph asked. He tried to stand up, but only managed to sit up before flopping back down on his stomach.

“The only parts of this country that are warm this time of the year are miles and miles away,” Lou tried to explain, “And by the time we arrived there, winter would be over, and it would be time to go back home.”

“I know what that’s called,” Donnie said, perking his head up slightly, “From the book! It’s called… migrasin, or something...”

“Well I wanna migrasin!” Raph demanded, giving his father the sternest (yet sleepiest) glare he could muster. It was adorable, but Lou held back a smile, not wanting to make the four year old’s mood worse.

“Maybe next winter. Now come on, back in bed, both of you.” There were a few protests and a couple sobs, but eventually his two oldest sons settled down, sleeping alongside their brothers as their father began singing a simple Japanese lullaby to them.

Still, as his gentle voice echoed through their temporary home, the rat-man couldn’t help but feel pity for his sons, and hoped that this year’s winter would be a short one…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“...They sorta look like… sparkles.”

“Yeah, cold sparkles! How does somethin’ so small make it so cold?!”

“I think it looks pretty!”

“And look, it turned into water in my hand!”

“I thought you already learned that, Dee.”

“I did! But this is the first time seein’ it happen! And if it gets cold enough, it’ll turn back into ice! Isn’t that neat?!”

“Yeah, it’s really cool. Ice cool ~”

“Booooo.”

“What are you boys doing?” Lou - now called Splinter occasionally by his kids - asked. He tried to look stern, but amused smirk still crept onto his face as the turtles sheepishly moved away from the open sewer grate. Thanks to the bright light from the street lamps, he could see small flakes of snow fall through the grate and onto the metal floor of their sewer domain.

“We were just… checkin’ out the snow,” Raph explained, kicking his foot slightly, “Cause, I thought it was just rain, an’ then Leo said that he thought it was snow, so we had ‘ta double check and… We wanted to see the snow.”

“It’s really pretty!” Mikey repeated, his eyes practically sparkling. Splinter chuckled. He had a feeling there would be quite a few snowflakes drawn on the walls of their home in the next few weeks, courtesy of the young box-turtle artist.

“And so small!” “Really REALLY small!” the twins exclaimed. “It’s so weird!” “But so cool!” “Stop using that joke, Leon!” “Make me, Don- *yawn* nie…”

The rat’s smile fell slightly. “...Come on, you four. Home is just down this pipe.” And this time, he would be standing behind them, to make sure there was no more wandering off. Though, just because he could only see their backsides didn’t mean he couldn’t still see their disappointment…

As soon as they were in their home, he gave each of them a sweater or hoodie to wear to bed before sending them off to their rooms. With a bit of luck, winter wouldn’t completely hit for a couple more weeks, giving him time to prepare - and his kids a bit more time to play. But…

“It still won’t be enough,” he mumbled to himself, his ears folding down low.

New York winters were particularly harsh, it seemed. Always cold, always lasting for months, and never turtle-friendly - especially not for turtles who were old enough that they didn’t need all day naps. Turtles who were old enough and energetic enough to desire more than just a couple hours a day for playtime, especially now that they were starting to discover various interests and favorite things to do. Turtles who were absolutely miserable this time of year, no matter how much comfort Splinter tried to give them or how many Christmas decorations he scavenged in order to bring cheer to their home.

He clenched his fists, tail twitching slightly in agitation. He had to do something about this… He needed to do something for his boys! Rat or not, Lou Jitsu certainly wasn’t about to let this cruel season hold his family hostage for yet another year!

So, as soon as he was sure his boys were tucked in and sleeping away, he got to work.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was late, nearly midnight, but even the lively Big Apple seemed to be at peace. Most of the city’s citizens were tucked into their beds, grateful that there was no evening snow to shovel. The sky was clear as well, with there only being a slight icy breeze felt in the air. Still, as pleasant as the weather was, it was still winter - still a season of snow and ice and freezing cold.

Naturally, this cold was felt throughout the vast urban landscape, even in its deepest sewers…

“Daaaad, why do we gotta go out tonight anyway?” Leon pouted. He leaned on his twin, who begrudgingly refrained from pushing him away, if only so he wouldn't have to take his hands out of the sleeves of his coat.

Splinter glanced back at the boy, his eyes slightly hidden under the cabbie beret he was wearing. “You said you were bored, did you not?”

“Well yeah but, that doesn't mean I wanna help with chores…” Leo quietly retorted. Sure, he hated being stuck all season, but whatever his father was planning didn't exactly seem like a great alternative.

“Me neither… Especially when it's so cold above,” Donnie added, already bracing himself for the bitter cold as he and his family began walking into the tunnel. He tucked his chin under his scarf, wishing that he could go all the way inside his shell like his youngest brother could. “We should’a waited until I finished my new machine! It'll be able to dig through dumpsters and junk yards for us so we don't have to get our hands cold!”

“Then it is a good thing that tonight is not a scavenging night.”

The two five year olds blinked. ...Well, this made sense, they supposed. After all they still had plenty of food, as well as a couple toys they had managed to find. And thanks to their father having spent weeks gathering up abandoned costs and blankets for them all before the real snowstorms started to hit, there was nothing else they really needed. “So why are we going up then?” the purple turtle inquired, not liking being confused, “And WHERE are we going?!”

“You shall see, Purple One. Just a bit longer, our destination is just a few minutes away.” His rat ears perked up slightly as another one of his sons groaned.

“But why can’t you just tell us where we’re going, Pop?” Raph complained, crossing his arms.

“Because it would ruin the surprise.”

“Ugh…” Raphael kicked a stray chunk of ice, making sure to kick it towards the sewer walls so it didn't hit anyone in his family, and smiling just a little when the ice shattered on impact. “I still wanna know though…”

“I just hope it’s somewhere fun,” Leo added, thinking about all the trips they would take during the warmer seasons to places like the park or a restaurant or a mall, both to learn how to sneak around and to enjoy themselves without humans bugging them. Not like now, where they were just stuck inside their home half the time and trapped under a heat lamp or a blanket for the other half. “We haven’t been to the city in for- eeeeeever! ”

“I promise you boys that it’ll be well worth the effort,” Splinter insisted. He carefully stepped around a small puddle of ice, and used his tail to give his sons a path to follow.

“Papa knows the best places ever,” Mikey stated confidently as he easily grabbed his father’s thick coat and began to climb up onto his shoulders. As much as they helped with keeping him from getting too sleepy most of the time, the thick material of his parka and the clunky boots on his feet made it a bit harder to be as bouncy as he usually was. Thankfully he - as well as the rest of his brothers -  had gotten a couple weeks to get used to moving around in their new every-day attire. And even if he hadn’t, Mikey’s grip and balance were as perfect as ever, even at only the tender age of four. Splinter had no doubt in his mind that his youngest would grow up to be quite the acrobat.

As he nuzzled his father’s warm fur, Mikey asked, “Is it still going to be winter where we’re going?”

“Yes, Orange,” the rat said simply, “Of course.”

“Oh…” And just like that, Mikey’s enthusiasm for this secret destination disappeared, his mood falling in line with his grumpy and reluctant older brothers’. “...I hate winter,” he mumbled, face still pressed up against Splinter’s furry cheek. Splinter held back a sigh, and stretched up his tail, using it to give his youngest son a comforting pat.

All of his hard work - all of his prepping and scavenging, getting every they would need, listening to the weather report several times a day as he waited for the perfect night - it would all be worth it. He was sure of it.

“Do you boys know why winter is so cold?” he asked as he looked down their metal path. He could begin to see light.

“‘Cause of all the snow!” Donnie answered immediately, “And wind, and ice, and all that other bad stuff!”

“Very good, Purple - except for that last part. Winter is not completely bad, it is just another season. Another part of life.”

“Yeah it is!” Raph lightly argued, “It’s always all cold and wet and- and cold!”

“True, winter can be tough to get through,” Splinter nodded, “The cold can be dangerous, if you aren’t prepared… But, there can be bright spots to this season.”

Leon tilted his head in confusion. “Like what?”

But Splinter didn’t give an answer. Instead, he simply said “Oh look, we are almost there.” Thanking his lucky stars that their new home was so close to a park, Splinter took them up to the entryway of the pipe where metal met snow, and watched as his sons’ expressions turned to ones of awe and amazement.

To them, snow was just the white stuff that fell from the sky and made things cold, the mysterious force that forced them to stay underground whenever it first started falling. Other than letting it fall into their open hands for just a moment or two, they had never really seen it up close. They had never seen what it looked like on the ground - and had certainly never seen this much of it! Entire fields of it, stretching all the way to the trees and sidewalks on the edge of the park as it sparkled in the light of the bright moon above.

“Whoaaaaaaaa…”

“Mm-hm,” Splinter nodded. He gave them all an encouraging smile as he took a hand out of his coat sleeve and gestured towards the winter wonderland. “Your gloves and booties should protect you, so go ahead and try-”

“WHOO!” In an instant, Mikey leapt from his father’s shoulder and right into the snow. He fumbled a little, nearly slipping but catching himself just in time. “Whoaaaa, it really is snow!” Curious, he put a hand to the snow, and with a squeak he pulled it away. It really was cold! But also soft… He put a hand to it again, this time scooping up an entire handful. It was like cold sand! With a laugh, he threw it up and let it rain down on him. Sure it was still cold, but the warmth of his clothes as well as just the excitement of it all kept him wide awake.

“Looks like Orange has the right idea,” Spinter smirked. His older children looked on, their own curiosity growing. One by one, each turtle stepped out into the snow, exploring how it felt in their gloved hands and under their feet while Mikey continued trying to do spins and flips in it, not caring if he slipped a little.

“So, this is all the snow that fell from the sky?” Leo asked, looking back at his father, “All clumped together? I didn’t even know snow could do that!” No wonder it made things so cold! But it was so pretty too, and so- so-... White! Definitely a shock to a five year old red-earred slider who only ever knew the dark colors of the sewers and the warm colors of his blankets and his father’s robe.

“It’s cause the ice that snow is made out of sticks together better the colder it gets!” Donnie grinned, the gears in his little mind already turning as he picked up his own handful of snow. “It really is like water, like how a puddle just gets bigger the more rain you put in it. It just all stays together, see Dad?!”

Amused, Splinter put a hand to his chin, feigning surprise. “How interesting! You know, I believe you can turn water into steam as well, once it gets too hot. Water is a very fluid element, you know.”

“I wonder what else I could turn water into…” Donnie mumbled, bringing the handful up to his eyes and examining the snow crystals carefully. Splinter expected nothing less from his clever Purple boy. He made a note to himself to try and ‘borrow’ a book from the library on the water cycle and other weather phenomenon for his son later.

Raph meanwhile, had made his own discovery. “It tastes a lot like water too,” he commented before taking another bite of his handful, not minding the coldness off it too much, “Crunchy water…” When he noticed his brothers giving him a bit of a look, he just shrugged. “It looked like sugar! I thought it would be yummy!”

“Soooo, what do we do in the snow now, Pop?” Leo asked. If the snow covered all the grass and trees, then it probably covered up any play equipment at the park too, so what else could be done?

Splinter, remembering all the various snow days from his own childhood very clearly, gave a grin. “Well, Blue, since you asked…”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I’m gonna get you this time, Leo!” “Nuh uh! I’m gonna get YOU!” “Heh, you gotta catch me first!”

Snowballs flew through the sky one after the other, most of them falling flat onto the earth rather than hitting their target. Leo could dodge and evade like nobody’s business, but he had a bit of trouble with throwing far, and half the time he’d throw them upwards and end up hitting himself with them. As for Raph, he would keep trying to make the “biggest snowballs ever” in between attacks, not caring how many times they’d crash to the ground, not getting anywhere near his brother.

But it hardly mattered, really. Raph and Leo still continued to laugh and chase after each other, neither of them keeping any sort of score.

“Raphieeee!” Raph turned to see his baby brother waving his arms at him. Practically a whole army of snow angels had been formed in the field behind him, complete with stars and pictures drawn beside them.

“Whoaaa, cool!” Raph grinned, “I wanna try!” Letting himself go limp, the snapper fell back onto the snow, and began moving his legs and arms. With a much bigger back and thicker limbs, the angel didn’t come out quite as clean as Mikey’s, but he was still proud of it.

“Now your angel and mine can be friends!” Mikey beamed before turning to his blue brother, “Hey Leon, you wanna make an angel too?”

Leo breathed out a cold breath and rubbed his arms a bit. “Maybe later, Mikey. I wanna do something first.” Knowing instantly what Leo was going for, Raph and Mikey followed his lead back to where their father sat with his carefully packed tote bag beside him.

Splinter hummed. “More hot cocoa?” he guessed. The boys nodded enthusiastically, making him chuckle. “Alright, but remember to share, Blue” he said, reaching into his bag, “This is the last of it, and then you all will have to have soup instead.”

“Kay!” Leo took a couple sips before passing the thermos along. “Hey Donnie, d’you want- WHOA! Donnie, are you making a snow machine or something?”

“No, it’s a snow turtle!” Donnie explained, pressing a bit more snow onto the back of his creation, “It’s like a snowman - that was what Dad made when he was a kid - but wayyy better, cause it’s a turtle. Come on, I’ll show you guys how to make one!” Quickly finishing up the cocoa, the three of them cheered and ran over to their purple brother, eager to learn how to make this amazing thing.

As for Splinter, he just continued to watch his sons play and actually enjoy the season for the first time in their young lives. It had, indeed, been very much worth it…

However, as clearly as he could see the happy grins on his boys’ faces, he could also see the young reptiles start to shiver. Even with all the layers of clothing and warm things to drink and eat, they couldn’t stay out there forever. Still, there was one last thing he wanted them to experience before calling it a night…

“This is gonna be AWESOME!” Raph grinned, gripping the edge of their ‘ride’ tightly. Mikey nodded, having to force himself to sit still and not hop up and down in excitement, as per his father’s request. Donnie stepped in next, looking a bit more cautious. His twin seemed to share the same concerns, glancing back at his rat-dad.

“And you sure this is okay?” he asked, “An’ not something crazy people do?”

“Hmmm, well, I’m PRETTY sure.” “Daaaad!” Splinter laughed. “It is completely safe, Blue, believe me.” The hill wasn’t too steep, and there were no trees or rocks in sight. It was the most perfect sledding spot he had ever seen! “It’ll be alright,” he insisted.

Admittedly curious, Leo finally stepped on, making sure to huddle up next to his brothers and leave plenty of room on the trash can lid for Splinter to sit down on it. “Okay,” Splinter began, giving a toothy grin. He placed his tail on the cold ground as he wrapped his arms around his boys. “Hang on, all of you! Ready… aaaand… GO!” His tail pushed against the snow, and in an instant, they were off!

He heard the boys yelp, but within seconds they were all laughing and shouting in excitement, grinning as they flew down the hill. Still keeping his tail out, Splinter steered them, allowing their makeshift sled to weave back and forth, and even hop off the ground a couple times!

“Faster! Faster!” his children cheered, hollering and putting their hands in the air. So, Splinter leaned forward, increasing their speed. Maybe he could try out a couple tricks too, he thought to himself. A couple spins, or-

The lid hopped off the ground once more, hitting an unseen bump that Splinter hadn’t been expecting. As such, his arms weren’t wrapped quite as tightly around his turtles as they should of been. And, as their ‘sled’ came back down to earth, time seemed to slow as he watched his youngest fly off of it.

“MICHELANGELO!” Splinter cried out with a gasp as the box-turtle landed. However, instead of stopping dead (Splinter cringed. Bad word choice, very bad) in the snow, the young orange acrobat instinctively tucked into himself and rolled until he was safely on his shell.

“Woo hoo!” Mikey cheered, his body - and his own makeshift ‘sled’ - easily keeping up with his family’s speed, “I’m sledding! I’m sledding!”

“No way! Go Mikey!” Hey, I wanna shell-sled!” “Me too!” Before he could even try to stop them, each one of his sons backwards dove over the side of the metal lid. Even Donnie was daring enough to try it, knowing that the small backpack stuffed under his coat would easily protect his shell. And, just like their baby brother, each of them began to scream and laugh with delight as they slid down the hill.

“...Oh, what the heck?” Splinter mumbled, his grin returning. He crouched down, and- “ HOT SOOOOUP! ” he howled, jumping headfirst into the snow and leaving the trash can lid behind as he rolled away from it.

Unbothered by the splashing snow - unbothered by the cold or the wind or even winter itself - the five of them slid and flipped and spun and cartwheeled to their hearts’ content, until finally slowing down as they reached the bottom of the hill. Yet even as they laid there, their joyful laughter still couldn’t be contained.

“I LOVE winter!” Mikey yelled as loud as he could, his brothers enthusiastically agreeing with him. Still laughing as his heart continued to race - Goddid he miss this feeling, though it felt even better now that he was sharing it - Splinter gathered up his boys, hugging them close. “See? It’s just as I said,” he said, a bit breathless, “Lots of good things about winter!”

“Yeah!” “Uh huh!” “Lots of good things!” “I LOVE WINTER!” The turtles laughed again, still smiling even as their joy mellowed out and fell back to earth like snowflakes in the night.

Unsurprisingly, all the excitement had completely wiped them out, and Splinter had a feeling that even with heat, they’d still end up sleeping for a couple days straight. Even so, as he carried three turtles in his arms and one on his back through the icy sewers, he found he didn’t have any regrets.

Their wet parkas and booties were taken off as soon as they reached their home, instantly replaced with cozy sweaters and hoodies that Splinter had left sitting near one of the space heaters. “Come on, little ones,” he cooed, guiding them towards their rooms, “It is way past your bedtimes.”

“Hey, Papa?” Leo said suddenly, his voice quiet as he rubbed his eye.

“Yes, Blu-?” Leo grabbed onto him, hugging him tightly. His brothers quickly followed, their smiles strong despite their fatigue.

“Thanks for making winter fun,” Leo finished, nuzzling his stomach, “It was really fun...”

“Of course,” Splinter nodded, happily returning the hug, “I am glad to hear you all enjoyed it.”

“Can we go play in the snow again later?” Raph asked, nearly cutting himself off with a yawn.

The rat man hummed. It probably wouldn’t be for a while. There was a snowstorm announced for next week, with harsh wind chills after that… But after tonight, there was no denying that even the harshest conditions could still have perfect nights.

With a soft smile, Splinter answered with “...I suppose we could make nights like this a tradition.”

()()()()()()()()()()()()

“You got it all ready, Mikey?”

“Yep!” Mikey proudly lifted up the tote bag. “Two thermoses of soup, three of hot chocolate - and all in different flavors!”

Raph grinned, nodding. “Great job, bro. Now-”

“I’m telling you, Leon, my sled is Olympic-level quality!” he heard Donnie argue as the rest of their group (save for one member) walked into the kitchen, “There’s absolutely no way you’re going to beat me in ANY race. Period!”

“Dude, not only do snowboards beat sleds any day of the week, but my snowboarding skills are LEGENDARY!” Leo insisted, completely unphased by his twin’s boasting, “Come on! Everyone knows it’s not the equipment, it’s the champion that uses it.”

“Tc’ch, yeah,” Donnie rolled his eyes, “Just make sure you don’t slip and fall flat on your shell again, Champ.”

“I mean, if you ask me,” April smirked, her old green and gold sled already tucked under her arm, “I think I’m gonna kick both your shells, but that’s just me.”

Raph shook his head at the three of them, though even this old debate couldn’t bring his mood down too far. (Especially once he saw Mikey sneaking some gingerbread snickerdoodles into the bag.) “Hey Pop! You ready to go?”

“Just a moment, Red!” Splinter asked, his eyes still glued to the fabric screen in front of him, “You know how I like my holiday specials!” Though, it seemed that even the holiday spirit wasn’t enough to convince the scorpions to be docile, pinching away at the poor contestant and destroying his chances of winning a season’s worth of Christmas cakes and fried chicken. Chuckling, Splinter finally turned off the tv and began getting dressed, his ears open to the conversations the rest of his family was having.

From what he could hear, Mikey was planning some sort of ‘snow sculpture masterpiece’ while Raph was already egging Leo on for a snowball fight after his, Donnie and April’s race down the hill. April was insisting that they also had to try ice skating with her now that the pond in Central Park was finally frozen enough, and Donnie sounded eager to try out some new invention of sorts along with his high tech sled.

Splinter’s smile softened. Maybe he didn’t do much during them these days, other than sipping cocoa on a bench and occasionally hitting one of his boys with a surprise snowball for laughs (had to always keep them on their toes, after all). Maybe leaving his comfy chair and going out into the cold with his aging joints was a bit of a pain. Quite a bit of a pain, actually. And maybe - no, certainly - his family was old enough to go have fun in the snow without any supervision from him.

Still, Splinter found himself unable to give up their tradition. Not as long as his family still enjoyed it, still enjoyed his company, and not as long as it still brought smiles to his sons’ faces even in the coldest weather.

So, he bundled himself up, and followed his family down the cold sewer tunnel and into the light of the moon and the sparkling, pure-white snow, fully expecting another perfect snow night.

THE END

[madiletio]

Paper Cranes | Clouis Summary: Louis had never been much of writer, but for her?  He’d write her a thousand paper cranes. !!Major character death is implied

Writing love letters had never really been his strongest forte. Hell, he'd pick speaking his mind over writing a simple love letter if he could. But beggars couldn't be choosers and he had to adjust to his reality.

Truth be told, he was adjusting pretty well. His handwriting seemed to get neater as the days went on and if it meant Clem got to know that she was appreciated and loved? He’d write her one everyday- just in case she suddenly forgets.

They had started out simple too, nothing crazy or beyond cheezy. Small notes of torn parchment containing singular sentences of “You look pretty today.” or “Your smile is infectious.”

Basic cringey shit like that.

Yet as the months dragged on and as the seasons changed, so did their relationship. They became closer and bonded more; they were past the fragileness that every new relationship held- especially in an apocalypse.

But now more than ever, they were a stronger and better team.

As Clem got stronger with her crutches, the notes started to become longer and more filled out too. Often ending with some sort of rambling or heart felt joke.

In the warmer seasons, he would often fold the letters up to take shape of a paper crane, before tossing them to her when she emerged from the dorms. And despite still waking up from her slumber, she never missed catching the letter.

Late fall was starting to take a toll on everyone. Rations were getting scarce with each passing day and most of the forest creatures had hidden away to hibernate.

In his letters he often expressed how he wished people could also hibernate and if not people, then walkers. It would take the edge off of them at least. Clem would often give him a sympathetic smile, understanding clear in her honey brown eyes.

Aj had started to grow taller and stronger too. Often being the first to jump up and volunteer to go beyond the safety of the schools iron gates to hunt or to fish, with sometimes the occasion of Clem tagging along- if it was just beyond in the gates.

It never ceased to amaze him how badass Clem was, and even if she couldn’t see it, everyone else certainly did. Some nights, when he couldn’t sleep however, he’d spend his nights in the music room.

After he lost his tongue, the first few weeks back at Ericson had been brutal. Nightmares often plagued his dreams, the phantom pain feeling so real. The only thing that seemed to ease his racing heartbeat and anxiety, was his piano.

He knew the notes like the back of his hand. Every key, every placement- every scale. It brought him a comfort he couldn’t properly describe. He didn’t have to worry about what he was going to write. Didn’t have to worry about his spelling or making sure what he hate written had made sense. It was just him and his piano and even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, that was one of the first few things that helped him cope from the trauma.

Clem had her own ways of coping too.

Once she had been given her crutches, she was always on the go, trying to busy herself whenever she could. At first, it wasn’t noticeable. Everyone was busy after the delta raid.

But time goes on and life moves on and Clem needed to do that too.

So some nights he’d find her waiting for him at the piano. They would just sit there, playing the keys in the looming silence of the halls, no words, no letters, needing to be spoken or written.  

Just the two of them and the old falling apart piano.

-

It had taken a few months and lots of trials and errors, but eventually Willy and Aj (with the occasional help from Aasim) had finally succeeded in making Clem a prosthetic. It was far from perfect, and there was lots of room for improvement. But with the resources and the shit they knew? They did a pretty alright job.

That didn’t ease the anxiety he felt when she first started to go back out on scouting missions. Of course, she would always come back safe and sound, but just for extra measure, he’d write her a note.

Winter had been a brutal season for everyone. Ruby had come down with a shocking fever and some were starting to develop coughs of their own. Louis was one of them.

He knew that Clem and Aj had volunteered to go on a supply run, and as much as he protested, they didn’t have much of an option. So instead, he stayed up and wrote her a letter.

Only this time it wasn’t just a simple letter. She had to know that he loved her, and that she better come back alive. He had sighed it and crawled into his covers, the sweet embrace of sleep taking over him.

The sound of the iron gates scraping opening startled him awake. Light bled into his room and immediately he felt his heart jump into his throat.

He had slept in and missed her. By a long shot.

Muffled voices came from outside and what he could only make out to be screaming? Or was it crying? His head was so fucking muffled. He crawled out from the covers and threw on his coat, disregarding anything else.

He wished he hadn’t stepped outside.

There stood a shaken Aj, tear stains marking his small checks and already drying blood soaking in the material of his clothes. And in his hands? Was Clem’s hat.

His world slowed down completely. He could only focus on the hat.

“Louis..” Violet mumbled, reaching out to grab him.

Everything looked so blurry and overwhelming and he couldn’t stop looking at that damn fucking hat.

He had gone over this scenario multiple times in his head. Played out every worse case scenario that could happen to her. He had been through this shit way to many times before.

It wasn’t supposed to happen to her.

He felt a small weight tug on hips and finally he broke his gaze away from the hat and onto a glassy eyed Aj who looked like he had just lost his entire world.

Maybe he had.

-

Grief was a strange concept to him. They had built her grave, said their final goodbyes. Aj found comfort with the rest of them, and even though the small boy was very much still hurting, he was also showing signs of healing.

So why didn’t he feel like he was healing?

Guilt would often eat away at him, when he was alone. He had never been one to believe in superstitions and it was completely stupid of him to even consider it being the reason she got bit. But he couldn't help but feel like if he hadn’t slept in that morning, if he had given her that fucking letter, she’d still be here.

He hated nights like those.

The nightmares returned and so did the nightly visits to the piano room. Only this time instead of playing the instrument, he sat there on the dusty piano bench and cried until he no longer could.

Until the exhaustion from crying would eventually take over his body.

Aj would sometimes come into the room too, long after he broke down. They would just sit there, just like Clem and him had done months ago, and they would play nonsense. Melodies that felt half hearted, keys and notes that didn’t merge well together. All of It helped, for a little bit at least.

Aj was slowly beginning to smile again, even if it was for half a second. Half a second was better than nothing.

He hoped, in time, he’d be able to smile for that half of a second too.

-

Louis had never been much of a writer.

If he needed or had to, he would. But he never really had the desire to keep a journal like Aasim, or draw his thoughts down just like Tenn used to.

Then she happened and everything felt like it was going to be okay for once in this God forsaken nightmare but just like anything else, nothing good ever lasts forever and now she was gone six feet under and he couldn’t deal with it.

It wasn’t supposed to happen to her.

He pulled out the blank piece of parchment, careful not knock over the candle as he set it down on the desk. After all, last thing everyone needed was another fire.

Not Clem.

His wasn’t much of a writer but he needed to do this- for his own sake. He was remaining strong for everyone around him, but mainly putting on a brave face for Aj. The little shit was in their care now after all.

So he sat down and wrote until he physically couldn’t anymore. Until the tears that threatened to fall blinded him.

“Darling,

I know you would want us to continue on, even though you are no longer here. That’s the funny thing about all of this don’t you think? We’ve all grown up surrounded by death and yet it never really gets any easier does it? I think… I think my mind is still in some stage of denial. It’s been months and I still half expect to see you standing there, laughing or talking with someone when I enter a new room. Or to find you teaching Aj about something positive about this shithole of a world.

You’d be so proud of the little man he’s becoming Clem. I know we all are.

The piano has started to go out of tune again- I blame the weather. I would tune it but..truth be told part of me doesn't want to, as silly as that sounds.

How did it get to this point Clem? You got us back home, you came back home. You gave us. Gave me-”

Droplets fell onto the paper and when the few tears fell, he couldn’t stop the rest from falling. Everything that had been eating away at him for months on end was slowly beginning to dissipate away.

He couldn’t continue the letter. He didn’t even bother to read over it. Instead, he folded it up in a crane shape, just like all the others and placed it on his bookshelf.

For the first time in months, he was starting to feel again. There was no guarantee he was going to start feeling better soon, but he was healing. Slowly.

No amount of words on paper would ever be enough to describe all he felt about her and about her life. And even though she was gone, he could still feel her presence in the little things. Like the sun shining through the window, or when a patch of wildflowers completely bloomed in the spring. That was how he- no everyone was going to remember her.

And for as long as he was on this earth, he was going to fight like hell to survive, just like she had done.

He wasn’t going to let her down.

[nightfell]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dishonored (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Corvo Attano, Emily Kaldwin Additional Tags: dad-daughter moments, Ficlet, Family Fluff, Post-Dishonored (Video Game), Pre-Dishonored 2 (Video Game), Dishonored 1, Post-Low Chaos Ending Summary:

Emily has a difficult time adjusting after returning to Dunwall Tower and goes missing. Corvo searches for her.

He heard Callista's swift, urgent footsteps before she reached the doorway to his office. The poor woman looked absolutely distraught.

"Lord Protector," the governess breathed, "I'm sorry to disturb you but...Emily didn’t show for afternoon lessons. I can't find her anywhere."

Corvo placed the security detail missive he had been reading down on his desk. Running a hand through his hair, he gave a small sigh before reaching for his coat. He looked kindly at the woman standing by the doorway, "Don't worry, Callista. I think I know where she is."

The woman's hands were still wrung together tightly but she managed to give a small nod before retreating back into the hall. Corvo did not fault her for worrying. It had only been a month since Emily’s return back to Dunwall Tower and the collapse of the conspiracy orchestrated by the self-appointed Lord Regent. Things were slowly returning back to normal but everyone was still on edge, and rightfully so.

Even he was wound up and tense as well. After weeks of long, tedious nights filled training and running drills with the City Watch, things were finally settling into acceptable order. Corvo had personally saw to much of the guards' training himself. He was exhausted but the effort was well worth it knowing that Emily was safe again and would remain safe under his watch.

Though to be fair, Emily was starting to prove she would be capable of handily fending for herself one day. Ever since she started training with Corvo, Emily had become remarkably and rapidly proficient at evading those she wanted to avoid. Her antics had created much confusion and consternation among the staff, especially during her lesson times. As Royal Protector, it was Corvo's duty to emphasize and remind the young Empress of the importance of remaining within sight of the staff and City Watch guards. However the other half of him though was proud- fiercely proud- of her for mastering their training sessions together with alacrity.

Ascending the final flight of stairs, Corvo found himself standing in front of an all too familiar set of closed doors. He paused for a moment longer before letting himself in, quietly shutting the door behind. Even months later, it still was not easy walking into her room. He felt the sharp painful tug in his heart as his gaze moved across the space. Despite the best efforts of the staff, there were still signs of Jessamine everywhere and all the memories that came with her.

It was here during the moments in between that they had found each other - when duty and station had mattered little as they laid tangled together breathless, reckless, and alive with forbidden love. Where he had held Jessamine in his arms after receiving news of her father's passing, when the realization and full weight of Empress of the Isles had settled on her slim shoulders. And then a few short years later, when Emily was born - Corvo would never forget the hours spent restlessly waiting outside in the rain and shadows by the room's window, listening and waiting to finally meet his new family inside.

As the new Empress, Emily now resided in the room. Though the girl did not utter a word of protest when she moved into her mother's bedchamber, Corvo knew Emily still didn’t find it easy being in the space. Often the young empress would pad quietly through the dark halls late at night to spend the evening in his room, curling up in bed next to him. Sometimes they would sleep, Corvo running a hand soothingly through Emily's dark hair, listening for her breaths to even out before allowing his to follow. But more often than not, they spent long evenings lying awake, each lost in their own sea of thoughts and memories.

Corvo gave a weary sigh. Pulling his attention back to the present, he glanced around again looking for a sign where Emily could be. Nothing appeared to be amiss. He walked further into the room and soon felt a whisper of cool air curl across the floors. Glancing up, he noted the slightly open window beside the bed. Of course. 

Lifting the window's metal latch, Corvo swung over the sill and outside in one smooth movement, landing lightly on the ledge below. Dunwall Tower was not the tallest building he had ever traversed but it was built on a steep cliffside and the walls along the waterfront terminated in a sheer drop straight into Wrenhaven River. One misstep and it was a very long way down. The wind gusting up the sides of the Tower did not make things easy either. One of the first skills Corvo had drilled into Emily was footwork and balance but even with training, the wind was cutting, unpredictable, and wild, causing the edges of his heavy coat to whip up and around his legs.

He quickly made his way along the length of the wall ledge and pulled himself up on the stone rampart, feeling the prickle of snow flurries land on his exposed hands.

Emily was sitting on the ledge, her back to him, favoring the view overlooking the river towards the sea. Corvo scuffed his boot against the rough stone pavers just loud enough to be heard. The young girl glanced behind and smiled at him in brief greeting, the falling snow whirling around her slight form in a shimmering halo. Walking over with a smile of his own, Corvo shrugged off his coat and draped it over Emily's shoulders. He took a seat next to her, gazing across the gray winter seas.  With the winter months fast approaching, daylight was fading earlier each day but today still it persisted just enough to cast its muted rosy glow on the rolling water and ships along the river. A subtle lull settled over everything as if the city was readying itself for a long hibernation in the coming months ahead. 

"You picked a good spot," Corvo nodded approvingly. "Unobstructed views all around but plenty of options for a retreat if needed."

Emily gave a small smile; she never could hide her pleasure when he praised her. The girl nestled deeper into the depths of Corvo's coat and turned her attention back to waters below, "I like being up here, away from it all. Things seem so much more simple when you are so far away."

There was wisdom in her words. Corvo glanced at Emily, suddenly realizing just how much she looked like Jessamine. The soft edges of youth and childhood were beginning to sharpen into powerful and graceful angles.

"Father," Emily's voice was small and forlorn. "What if I am awful at being Empress? What if everyone hates me?"

Yes, she was going to be a formidable and wise leader one day. But for now, the girl in front of Corvo was young, uncertain, and full of self-doubt.

"The only thing you can do is do the best you can," Corvo reached over with an arm and gave Emily a hug. "Your decisions and actions will impact those around you. Rule with fairness and justice, consider the lives of those you rule- As your mother did." But be careful with who you share your power with, he wanted to say. Jessamine had been too trusting and the cost of that mistake was paid with her life.

Emily looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding firmly, "Mother always reminded me to think of others first. She was very wise." She glanced up at Corvo, "I want her to be proud of me."

"I’m sure she is very proud of you, Emily. Just as I am now." Corvo couldn't help but smile at her determination, "You’re already becoming a fine Empress."

Hugging the large coat around her, Emily leaned in and gave Corvo a small kiss on the cheek, an action of innocent impulse and simple trust.

"Ugh," Emily scrubbed her chin, giving him a slightly disgruntled expression. "Your face is so scratchy."

"Sorry," Corvo murmured with a quiet laugh, running his other hand across the rough stubble that was starting to grow out.

"I mean- Don't change it though. I like it." Emily smiled at him and together, they gazed across the river towards the gray winter sea.

[wellhalesbells]

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten published stories. 👀 if there are any patterns yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! tag up to ten friends! 

tagged by @mad-madam-m and @andavs​!  thanks, ladles (i typed ladles and i’m fucking going with it.  you’re weird-shaped spoons now, and i love you)!!!  side note: i swear, i do not know where 2018 has been going for me, i have not been writing a lot recently, which is some bulllllshit and must be rectified.  anywhozzles:

1. Derek scrapes a knuckle against the bristle on his jaw and waits out the light. (Sinking and Surfacing, Sterek, 9.5k.)

derek pov is so important to establish, y’all.  because i love it but it does not come as naturally as stiles and i will forget i’m doing a derek fic if i don’t instantaneously remind myself at like... word one

2. The blood sticks. (Anchor’s Away, Sterek, 2.5k.)

short sentences for my has-to-be-2.5k-word-count, hahaha.  it seems like it’s gonna be such an angsty affair from this and the first scene sets this kinda grimy, heavy atmosphere and then it ends with stiles saying, “if this whole thing works out?  we’re getting married next to the jam branch.”  you couldn’t have predicted that, I AM A MASTER OF TWISTS AND TURNS, FREN

3. Stiles meets his future husband on a rather unspectacular Wednesday. (Hibernation Station, Sterek, 72.9k.)

i liked this so much i made it the summary.  it sums up the whole fic though, it really does

4. Stiles glances at the chalk menu above the register. (Prostitute vs. Werewolf, Sterek, 12.9k [wip].)

i will finish this, i swear to fucking thor i will.  i’m sorry i have been slacking SO BAD, i did not realize i was so behind, yikes, i had the next part almost ready to go then decided i hated it and i have just... been in a funk about it now, my b.   i feel like this whole year so far has been, ‘once i get through this week, i can x,’ but every fucking week, y’know?

5. Stiles has a bandage slung under his chin like a disembodied helmet strap when Derek first meets him. (Sevens and Eights, Sterek, 10k.)

i’m probably the only person who immediately pictures a tiny, dirt-streaked, gap-toothed, grinning-so-wide-it-hurts baby stiles just from that line and that makes me the luckiest duck

6. The heavy rain from earlier in the afternoon has transformed the unspoiled banks of snow into an unappealing slush of gray and gravel, and left the sky unhelpfully darker than the hour would suggest. (Stopgap, Sterek, 6k.)

i was trying a thing on this one.  this fic is super description-heavy - which is something i’ve never felt particularly strong on (or maybe it’s just that i find it boring and assume that’s the same thing [i think it is, it shouldn’t be boring if you’re good at it, right???]) - and i forget which book i was reading at the time but it had really nice description and i was like, huh, i should try a thing.  so i did!  not sure how successful it was, i go back and forth on it, deciding i both love and hate it every few months it feels like

7. Stiles chews on his thumbnail, gaze going shrewd as it tracks a passing mechanic, his grease-splotched hand gripping a wrench the size of Stiles’ ulna. (Pick a Pack of Pestered Puppies, Sterek, 14.3k.)

i hated this fic so much when i posted it and i like it so much better now, especially the beginning.  like, it’s really written rather nicely.  who the fuck did that?  i should hire her again to write some more stuff  

8. Stiles hadn’t been in Beacon Hills in five years, hadn’t seen Derek in nearly as long, when he got the text: 

New number: (+530) 365-2421 ([Hilary Duff Lyric Redacted], Sterek, 40k.)

this is another one where i used the first line as the summary.  since it really is, like, here’s your set-up: now GO!  and i like that i was able to do that so effing succinctly and have it look pretty dang natural too

9. “This isn’t going to work,” Derek mutters from the corner of his mouth, squinting down at the hazy figure of Scott.  (Our Puddle is Deceptively Deep, Sterek, 10k.)

hey-oh, probably my favorite fic i’ve ever written, it flows so fucking niiiiice.  this is my perfect derek pov fic (for me, at least) 

10. “Off to Appalachia?” Ron asked as Harry sank down in his desk chair. (We Might be Too Old for a Bildungsroman, Drarry, 21.3k.)

this is probably the weirdest starting line, i think, of all of these, haha.  it’s really important to me in hp fandom that ron gets immediate and great rep though!

i don’t really see any patterns - aside from pretty often establishing (and hammering on) tense and pov as quickly as i can so i don’t make my COMMON mistake of mismatching that - but otherwise i don’t think i’m a very consistent writer?  or rather, i don’t feel like i have a consistent style, i have the same details i go back to and tropes i love, etc., of course, but a great deal of these were written on the heels of reading something that - the way it was told - really spoke to me and inspired me to fiddle about with the same style so, idk, i feel pretty random!  maybe i’m not at all though, i think almost everything i’ve been anon on in the teen wolf fandom has been guessed by someone, especially when it’s a silly one, so i’m sure there’s something i’m not seeing [snorts]

tagging: @piratefalls​, @acaranna, @grimmypuff, @tryslora, @stileshale, @kellifer-k, @urban-barbarian, @i-sveikata, @thepsychicclam, @alocalband and anyone else who sees this and wants to!  (you do not have to waffle btw, i just... do that [coughs])

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Salvation- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,724

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: You decide to hunt this demon down together, as a family. Who knew that so much can go so wrong in such little time?

Author’s Note: Only one more episode left! Guys, this is nerve racking!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

Series Rewrite Masterlist

There wasn’t a moment in time when you weren’t asking yourself one of 6 questions: Why was this happening to you? Why Sam? Why could you move things with your mind? What did this mean for your mom? How does Bobby fit into all of this? What is the reason you can do what you can do?

Why. That was always the burning question and you didn’t have any answers to any of them. You still were pissed at John for not tell you that your father was alive and that it was Bobby. Did he not want you? Did he hate you? Was he ashamed of you? Did he hate your mom? Is that why he didn’t come forth after she died?

You not only felt betrayed, you also felt alone because you could have been healing with a family member over your mom’s death but he didn’t even come up to the plate and be a man. You so wanted for things to be okay with you and him but you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You wanted things to be okay with John and you but again, you didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

John, of all people, should have known how hard it was for you to be alone. Sam and Dean, yeah, their mother died but they had John and they had their family. Who did you have? Growing up, you always felt like an outsider with the Winchesters despite how many times they told you otherwise.

Yes, you loved them with all your heart and your love for John wasn’t going away. You just wished things would have been different. Maybe your life would have been different or maybe it would stay the same but you would never know now.

Even with all these thoughts running through your head, you still had a job to do and you haven’t rested along with the Winchesters. Things were getting heated because you couldn’t find the damn demon.

Dean was pacing, Sam was leaning on the counter and John was sitting at a desk that was covered in papers regarding the demon. The whole damn motel room was covered in information on the yellow-eyed demon.

Weather charts, hieroglyphics, pictures, newspaper articles, written notes, a shelf of books and many more. You didn’t know what most of this stuff had to do with the demon but John did.

“So, this is everything I know and gathered on the demon. All our lives, we’ve been searching and nothing has come up until a year ago. I don’t know why it’s suddenly showing itself but it is and I have its trail.” John said after a long moment of silence.

“That’s why you took off.” You said, sitting on one of the beds with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”

“Alright so what's this trail you found?” Dean asked.

“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, into California. It’s all the same with the houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.” John rubbed his beard in thought.

“Families with infants?” Sam asked cautiously.

“Yeah, the night of the kid’s six-month birthday.” John confirmed.

“I was six months old that night?”

“Exactly.”

“So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So, Mom and Jessica’s death is all because of me?” Sam asked, getting emotional.

“Sam, don’t think like that. You know that’s not true.” You said in a gentle tone.

“Yeah, Sam, we don’t know that.” Dean tried to comfort his brother.

“Oh, really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean.” Sam was getting angry.

“For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.” Dean said, frustrated at his brother. Sam often brought this up and you and Dean constantly told him otherwise.

“Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.” Sam yelled.

“Sam, stop it!” You got up from the bed. You were pent up with emotion and you hated yelling at him but that energy had to go somewhere. The last time you were pent up with emotions, you moved things with your mind so you were trying to avoid that at all costs.

“No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!” Dean yelled back. You sighed and looked at John for help. You hated the stress that was piling up on your shoulders.

“Okay, that's enough.” John said, standing up. Immediately, Sam and Dean took deep breaths and backed off.

“So, why is he doing it? What does he want?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

“Look, I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save....” John stopped himself but he didn’t have to finish. You knew he never saved the families.

“Alright, so how do we find it before it hits again?” Dean asked.

“There are signs to look out for. It took me some time to notice them but it has a pattern, always doing the same thing every time. A few days before it strikes, it leaves behind cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations and electrical storms. I checked back in 1983 and the same thing happened a week before Mary died. A week before Jessica died. The signs are starting again in Salvation, Iowa and we need to be there before it happens again.” John gathered his things and you bit your lip in thought.

Maybe there was a reason this thing hasn’t been caught yet. Yeah, it was horrible what happened to Mary and Jessica but this didn’t feel like the end of a story but only the beginning of one. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t kill this thing tonight or even in the near future.

You knew you should say something to Sam or Dean but you didn’t have the heart to let them down. Dean did say that he would listen to you whenever you came to him about a feeling but not with this. He wouldn’t listen to you and Sam wouldn’t even bat an eye if he heard what you were thinking. You didn’t know what John would do if he found out.

It didn’t take very long to get everything in the cars and on the road. You were safely in the backseat of the Impala with Dean behind the wheel while he followed his dad’s truck. They were both zooming down the road but there was no one else here so you didn’t think too much about it.

“You and your dad are so much alike.” You said to Dean. Sam was in the passenger’s seat not talking.

“Yeah? Why do you say that?”

“Well, for one, your horrible driving skills.” You teased him.

“Horrible? I learned from the best.” Dean looked at you through the rearview mirror.

“I learned from the worst. You are a horrible teacher Dean. I bet if John taught me, I wouldn’t have crashed his car.” You smiled. You and the boys really needed a lifting moment and you decided to bring up anything other than the case and the demon.

“If I remember correctly, I crashed it.” He smirked.

“You always took the blame for me and Sam.” You touched his shoulder and he gave you a kind smile. The moment didn’t last long because you looked ahead and saw John pulling off to the side of the road. Something must be wrong. Dean followed his dad’s actions and jumped out of the car once it turned off. You and Sam followed and saw John get out of the car.

“Damn it!!” John yelled out.

“What happened?” You asked, walking over to him.

“I just got a call from Caleb. Don’t worry, he’s fine but Jim Murphy isn’t. He’s dead.” You could see the muscles flex in his face at how angry he was.

“How?” Sam asked, crossing his arms in thought.

“His throat was slashed. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim’s place.”

“Was it the demon?” You wondered.

“I don't know. But if it was, the demon must know we’re getting close. He wants to throw us off his trail.”

“What do we do?” Dean asked.

“Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up to cover more ground. I want records and I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week.”

“John that could take forever. How would we even begin to know which one it is?” You asked.

“We check them all unless you got any better ideas?” John looked at you. You sighed and shook your head. This may not be the best plan but it was the only plan right now.

“Fine, who is going where?” You asked.

“Dean and I will go to the two hospitals and you and Sam go to the health center to see if you can find anything.” You nodded and everyone walked back to their cars.

“I bet Sam and I will find out who it is before you do.” You smirked at Dean.

“Really? This isn’t a competition.” Dean said, starting his car. John took off and Dean wasted no time in following him.

“Just saying. The two smartest people working together.” You smiled at Sam who chuckled.

“Hey, I can be smart.” Dean said defensively.

“Smart about ways you can pick up a girl.” You giggled.

“Let’s not forget who those worked on.” Dean smirked slightly.

“You’re right.” You smiled widely. Dean was an addicting man to be around. You always craved his attention. While Dean drove to one part of town, John went to the other. Dean wasn’t about to let you or Sam have his car so he stopped at the medical center for you two to dig through. Sam got out, stretching his long legs and you were about to get out but Dean stopped you.

You were just about to question him when you felt his lips touch yours. It was so unexpected but you didn't resist for one second. You kissed Dean back with just as much passion as he was kissing you with. Sam turned to get you but what he saw made him turn and walk away from the car. You wanted to continue this but you had to pull away.

"What was that for?" You smiled widely.

"Just because. Be safe." Dean smiled at you.

"We're researching. Nothing dangerous about that." You smiled.

"Still." He pecked your lips and you pulled away from you before you could do more. Damn, this man would be the death of you. You grinned and got out of the car, jogging to Sam.

"Sorry Sam." You bit your lip apologetically.

"Let's just go." Sam walked into the health center and you looked back but the Impala was long gone. You followed Sam inside where he chatted up a receptionist with his good looks and charm. Whatever he said worked because the woman guided you and him to a filing room where she handed him some files.

"Here you go officer." She smiled.

"Thanks and she's with me." You smiled and her and she let you inside. You sat across from Sam and grabbed a file, beginning to look through it. The woman left and Sam took out a notebook and a pen, writing the information on it. You traded off and copied what you had in your files and before you knew it, you two were done.

"Damn, this was pretty easy. I wonder how Dean and John are doing." You gathered the files and neatly lined them up, exiting the room with Sam.

"Thank you for your time." You smiled at the woman who stood up.

"You're welcome." She walked to the room and you assumed she was going to put the files away.

"Where are we going now?" You asked Sam. When you didn't hear a reply, you looked over at him and saw he was clutching the notebook hard in his hands. He grunted out in pain and dropped to his knees.

"Sam!" You got next to him and placed a hand on his back to comfort him. He was having another vision because his eyes were glazed over. You didn't know how long he was out but when he came to, he fumbled in his jacket for a map.

"Sam, what did you see?" You asked.

"Another vision. I know where it's happening. I know who the family is. We need to get there as soon as possible." You saw him circle a place on the map and he handed it to you. You looked at it and saw it wasn't far from here.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go." You and Sam walked to the park that was across the street from the house in his vision and you sat on a bench with him.

"Sam, are you sure this is the place?" You looked at him and before he could get a word out, he grabbed his head as another vision passed. He grunted out in pain but nodded.

"Yeah, this is the place." You looked over and saw a woman pushing around a stroller with an umbrella but it wasn't sunny or raining out. Sam got up and made his way over to the woman with you fresh on his heels.

"Hi. Here, let me hold that for you. You look like you don't need that anymore." Sam smiled and took hold of her stroller and the woman smiled.

"Oh, thanks." She closed her umbrella and you smiled at her when she looked at you.

"She's gorgeous. Is she yours?" Sam smiled, looking into the stroller. You took a peek to see a beautiful baby girl inside, babbling and smiling.

"Yeah." The woman blushed. You smiled and waved at the baby girl.

"Hi baby girl." You smiled widely. She just giggled and reached out towards you.

"Oh sorry, I'm rude. I'm Sam this is Y/N. We just moved in up the block." Sam introduced you to the woman. You stood up and shook her hand.

"Hi, I'm Monica and this is Rosie." She smiled.

"Hi Rosie," You smiled at her again. She squealed in happiness. "She's very happy. That's good. I know some children who aren't as easy as she is."

"Yeah, I'm glad for that too. Welcome to the neighborhood, by the way."

"Thank you. You're the first person we've met so far." You smiled.

"Do you two have a child?" Monica asked you and Sam.

"No, we don't but that doesn't mean one will come later. Right now, just a focus on us." You grabbed Sam's hand and kissing the back before letting go.

"Of course, that's understandable." Monica smiled. Sam looked at Rosie and he smiled at how good she was being.

"I know Y/N said it earlier but she's really good."  

"I know, I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear it's like she's reading your mind." Monica chuckled.

"What about you Monica? Have you lived here long?" Sam asked nicely.

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born." She smiled.

"How old is she?" You smiled at her again.

"She's six months today. She's big, right? Growing like a weed." You bit your lip and knew this was the family that would be targeted.

"Take care of yourself, Monica." Sam said with a smile.

"Yeah, you too. It was nice to meet you guys." She smiled and walked to her house. A car parked on the driveway and a man stepped out who greeted Monica and Rosie.

"So, I guess we know the family now." You walked away with Sam but he stopped short when he grunted out in pain and held his head. You rushed him over to the bench at the park and sat him down as the vision passed through him.

"Sam, we need to tell your dad about this." You said when he was done.

"Yeah, I guess." Sam sighed, not wanting this to happen but it needed to.

Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines

Forever tags:

@gothic-neuromancer @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

[ladypjmoon]

BTS FF Reads for July...

Greetings Readers!!!

Sorry this is a few days late—I like to post my reviews during the first week of each month—but it’s summer and I’ve been spending time with friends and family...while enjoying the sun and beautiful weather!  

So, without further delay...here’s my BTS FanFiction recommended reading list for July!!!

Summertime was made for reading and these are some fantastically amazing stories I’ve had the pleasure to read—and, of course, cheerzzz to all these talented writers...and Thank You for sharing your beautiful works of art with the fandom!

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01)   Title: Pull Me Closer

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by Willow_Odessa2333

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/11002941

Summary: College!AU where Jimin can’t sleep without listening to a *certain someone’s* channel, and then hears someone in the library that sounds JUST like him, but brushes it off until..... Or in which Jimin meets Yoongi, the voice behind the anonymous live stream host he kind of fell in love with.

My Review: I’m starting you out with a sugary delight that’s so sweet it’ll give you cavities—so remember to brush after reading, lol!  But seriously, this is Yoonmin at their most romantic—full of fluff and feels galore—and it’s sure to bring a smile to your face...so, enjoy!  

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02)   Title: Butterfingers

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by ohdizzy

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7848391

Summary:  Jimin's life is no fairytale.  But if it was, it'd go something like this.  (Or: the AU in which Jimin is cursed to drop whatever he’s holding every time he sees the person he loves)

My Review: Here’s another Yoonmin gem where Jimin’s lost his creative edge and has a painting project due.  Taehyung decides he needs a muse—enter barista Min Yoongi, covered in tattoos.  The plot is pure love, the twist is Jimin’s cursed by the gods to drop things around the person he loves because he hates love and the friends to lovers ending is predictably cliché but beautifully done!    

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03)   Title: Come First

Ship:  Yoonjin

Author:  by jinified

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/10155545

Summary:  “You could go in there, you know.” Hoseok suggests offhandedly.  “No,” Seokjin says immediately with a dismissive shake of his head, “he told me to never interrupt him when he’s in there.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious! We have an established boundary zone because—”

“Please don’t.”

“—we’re roommates.”

or: Yoongi has been in the studio too long and Seokjin tries to persuade him to leave. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

My Review: This shorty is pure Yoonjin smut and fun while the simplistic plot only adds to the air of humor and believability—I can actually see this happening...oh yes!          

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04)   Title: Dahlia

Ship:  Yoonseok | Sope

Author:  by signifying_nothing

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8726908

Summary:  witchchild jeongguk accidentally summons a pair of demons

My Review: I find the summary on this fic a little misleading because it’s actually quite a soulful piece of work.  There’s a lot of meat to this one so don’t be surprised by the plot depth and fully developed characters.  Make sure you’re heart, mind and soul are open when you read this one because there’s a fuckton of good questions that are sparked by this basic angel-demon theme.  I loved this story a lot and those of you who like to read unusual story lines will too!!!

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05)   Title:  Daily Smoothies

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by Missmozzie

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8291000

Summary:  Taehyung likes smoothies, and so does Jeongguk.

My Review: I love awkward Taekook and this is a really cute college au with an added Yoonmin flare...enjoy!

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06)   Title: Eternal

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by staycute1234

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/6228838

Summary:  Jungkook has been chasing Jimin for centuries.

My Review: This story spans a few hundred centuries following the vampire, Jungkook, as he waits for his soulmate, Jimin, to be continually reborn so they can be together for another human lifetime. There is blood and smut in this story but it’s sensual and not gore—however, if you’re the squeamish sort you might want to refrain from reading this one.  For all you vamp-lovers, this is a fabulous story and a great read!  

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07)   Title: Finally

Ship:  Vmin

Author:  by rosiex

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/10577745

Summary:  In which Jimin and Taehyung finally share their first kiss.

My Review: I adore this story—it’s quick but thorough!  We follow Jimin’s thought process surrounding his first kiss with Taehyung...which is also his first time kissing a boy.  Jimin’s mental dialog is genuine and detailed as he leads the reader through the physical and mental aspects that change his relationship status of his best friend from friend to lover.  This is a great little story with a big emotional footprint!          

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08)   Title: Homefront

Ship:  Namji | Minjoon

Author:  by ACatWhoWrites

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7998787

Summary:  There were times Jimin felt a lot and didn't feel at all. Times before he was a dad that he'd rather never forget and times he'd rather never think of again. Times when he was alone and choking on ash and slipping in mud made of blood and exposed dirt. Times before dancing with his daughter to animated guitar music and planning dates to pick flowers in the park.

My Review: I don’t normally read fictions that portray BTS members are parents (not my thing) but this one grabbed my heart. This is a multi-layered piece that surrounds a soldier (Jimin) who’s past and military obligations overlap with his life as a single father.  I love the underlying theme of finding love when and where you least expect it...because it reminds the reader there’s always hope!

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09)   Title: Insanity (in G minor)

Ship: Yoonmin

Author:  by neatospiffy

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9575978

Summary:  Yoongi is a pianist who runs a music shop in a small town. Jimin is his unlikely studentroommate?  the music!au that nobody asked for tbqh heavily inspired by Yoongi's First Love, the piano version of Butterfly, and several Yoonmin fics I've read in the past.

My Review: I have a hard time reading plots about or with child abuse—however, since it was implied, not graphically depicted, I got through it fine.  Most of the fiction revolves around how Jimin comes to live with his piano instructor and how their bond forms over a love of music...eventually, they fall into a romantic relationship.  This is a very touching Yoonmin story that deserves your attention and will reward you with a happy heart in the end!

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10)   Title: Meet The Parents

Ship:  Yoonjin

Author:  by rosiex

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7851541

Summary:  Yoongi predicts that meeting Seokjin's parents will be a disaster.  He was right.

My Review: An honest and cringe-worthy account of meeting your partner’s parents and knowing they instantly hate you.  I found this story both funny and sad as I suffered through second-hand embarrassment and dreaded the ride home and ensuing fight that had the potential to rip them apart, but doesn’t—with an ending that’s pure Yoongi...at least in my mind.

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11)   Title: Never Judge a Book by its Cover

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by whenIseeUsmile

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9841067

Summary:  Thanks to Jungkook's idiot best friend, he drowned the books he borrowed from the library. Now, he has to work there to work off his debt. He doesn't really like the job but that one boy that always has his nose buried in his books makes his days much better.  Or in which Jungkook meets bookworm Jimin and falls harder than he thought he would.

My Review: This story is fabulous!  It has a generous amount of fluff and feels along with a well-structured plot that flows easily, making it a great read—and it doesn’t hurt to that there’s a healthy dose of side Taegi either...can I get an Hell Yeah!

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12)   Title: Passengers

Ship:  Yoonmin

Author:  by unclassified_senpai

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/9180250

Summary:  The spacecraft Starship Avalon is traveling to a distant colony planet, Homestead II, a journey that will take 120 years to complete. The colonists and the entire crew are in Hibernation Pods, but a malfunction awakens one passenger, mechanical engineer Min Yoongi, 90 years too soon.  A YoonMin PassengersAU.

My Review: You all know I’m Yoonmin trash (she said proudly) and this is Yoonmin in epic proportion!  This is a must read!!!  And, if you’re a stalker (like me) you can go read the comments I made throughout the story however, here’s a section of my last comment...

“Seriously, you did a spectacular job on this story and the research you put into it (behind-the-scenes) shows immensely! I love Yoonmin but in this setting...I don't know, there was just something so beautifully quiet and peaceful about the Yoonmin ship that I haven't found in any of my other reading travels. The characters were so truthful and exactly how I see them in my own mind, including all their pain and insecurities--somehow you managed to keep this same quiet echo through the entire series...which is a feat in and of itself. And Namjoon killed me--every chapter watching his body fade and fail was done with honest and painful simplicity...I cried more for Joonie than I did when Yoonmin separated after their misunderstanding.”

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13)   Title: The 8 by 8 Rule

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by Rix

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7344526

Summary:   Jungkook drinks a lot of water. Taehyung's into it.

My Review: This is another story that won’t be to everyone’s liking so READ the TAGS!  I laughed and blushed my way through this one because Rix’s sex scenes are off the MF hook!  I enjoyed reading this one—but again, I love me some bottom Jungkookie so yeah...don’t read this one in church, lmfao!

__________ 

14)   Title: sidereal

Ship:  Vmin

Author:  by darling

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8029858

Summary:  Here we observe the Earth and the Sun in their natural habitat: each other.

My Review: This story is another with the theme of domestic abuse—it’s heart-wrenching and bittersweet—with a happy ending but I caution you all to READ the TAGS for triggers!  Darling is one of my favorite authors because of the unique perspective, style and voice...so I highly encourage you to read this or any other piece by this fantastic writer!    

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15)   Title: you have 1 new message

Ship:  Namjin

Author:  by bazooka

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/7481172

Summary:  

r u n c h r a n d a.

fuck, this is going to sound like the weirdest shit. okay look i used ur selcas to catfish and this older dude is gonna buy me stuff but i have to send him a selca with a peace sign

~ * ~ pingkeu jin ~ * ~

hahahahahahaha wtf

My Review: This is a long one however, don’t be afraid—it’s written in a texting format so it’s a very fast-paced read.  It’s Namjin centric with the other members contributing here and there but the plot spirals into a suspenseful thriller and has a great ending...that’s sure to put a dimple in your smile! ;)    

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16)   Title: Figuring It Out as We Go

Ship:  Jikook

Author:  by peppermint_wind

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/6078801

Summary:  Jungkook never thought this would happen to him; eighteen years old and questioning everything he used to know. Staying up late watching gay music videos with wide-eyes, phone tucked to his chest, probably isn't helping him much, either, but what is he supposed to do when he realizes seeing two men together makes his whole body ache?

**Based off of Jungkook covering Troye Sivan's, "Fools."

"Jimin’s breathing begins to even, and Jungkook watches his chest rise and fall, steady and slow, like how waves wash up on Busan beaches."

My Review: A very sweet coming about Jungkook discovering and accepting that he’s gay and has feelings for Jimin.  The feels in this story are deep and intense—it’ll make your heart beat faster, ngl!      

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17)   Title: breathing underwater

Ship:  Taekook | Vkook

Author:  by parallels

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/3604374

Summary:  Taehyung meets Jungkook on an impromptu summer road trip to Busan.

My Review: This is an odd little gem that I really love—it’s very poetic and beautiful.  I will mention that Taehyung almost drowns and Jungkook saves him so if this is a trigger for you please be careful as drowning is described with great feeling.    

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18)   Title: describe your ideal type here

Ship:  Sugakookie

Author:  by fruitily

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/11229873

Summary:  he means well. this is what jungkook tells himself when taehyung shoves a sheet of paper in his face at eight in the morning when he’s mechanically shoveling cereal into his mouth at the kitchen table in sort of a dissociative state. TAEHYUNG’S MATCHMAKING SERVICES, it reads at the top in taehyung’s glaring handwriting. jungkook doesn’t even want to read the rest of it.  or: taehyung makes a business out of matchmaking. yoongi smiles at jungkook at a coffee shop and it's really a downwards spiral from there on. both jungkook and yoongi probably need new roommates.

My Review: This story is wonderful!  Sugakookie done well is always a good time but honestly, I absolutely loved Vmin in this one.  The fact that you never know for sure if Vmin is a couple through the entire story is delightful and fun! Definitely read this one!!!    

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19)   Title: Good Job (with a G and a J)

Ship:  Namseok

Author:  by taetaetiger (sexyvanillatiger)

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/8045644

Summary:  “Good, Hoseok," Namjoon says. "That’s exactly right. Very good.” Oh. Oh, Hoseok thinks. Oh, he feels crawling down his spine. Oh, he sits higher in his seat. Oh, he tightens his legs together and feels a rush through his stomach, through the insides of his thighs, through his groin. Oh.

My Review: A college au story with brilliant Namjoon tutoring Hoseok at Seokjin’s request.  This story is cute, funny and all-around a good read so add it to your summer reading list!    

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20)   Title: when the lights go out (run away with me)

Ship:  Sugamon

Author:  by JemKay

Link:  http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/5690152

Summary:  Yoongi’s soft when he’s tipsy, softer when he’s cold, and softest when Namjoon says “I

love you.”

My Review: God this story is “Chick-flick-central” and so worth your time an effort—Namjoon is precious and Yoongi is his spitfire-self that melts in Joonie’s hands—this is a beautiful love story...so check it out!  

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Alright, that wraps up my listing for July—it’s a long one because it’s summer and most of you have extra free time on your hands...I know I do!!!  So, hope these keep a smile on your face during daylight hours by the pool, lake or beach!

As always, let me know if you’ve fallen in love with a certain story and send me the link so I can check it out!!!

Happy Reading and see you all next month!  

^___^  PJ

[micky-cox]

FORGETTING A FATHER or, I've Lost as Orpheus by Sarah McCann    September 10, A Shatterin In the house, vigilant (a disgusting vigilance, including sleep) I am a kid in a kid’s room. Playing with the wall, I’ve wrapped my fingers into some skull on the far one— a transparent shadow mass, the light rushing around my hands like a bandage. An hour earlier I jailed a night toad, only one inch long, only thirty seconds long, then flicked him off (toads, with their gentle bones and the grace in their double-stretched skin, still are never shes). I flicked him back in the grass. Crumbs of meaty earth in my palms left from the toad’s umbrella toes. I spread the wart-dirt all across my cheeks to blush into ugliness, to become a troll. I remembered, though, that I didn’t want anything to do with being a toad.  The mud ran like lava down the sides of the sink. Dad, you are lying dead in the next room with your dog tags on. My hips could not hold my weight, or the weight of paper, even if I could will myself to stand. Your eyes are the size of your pocketwatch, even closed. I am afraid. I will sleep awake tonight. The first dream was like this: You’ve gone to change your name. The explanation: onomatopoeia and you love me. I think: you’ve just been around too long Chincherinchee. Waratah. Gaga. The next: The ship went down. Candles thicken the unhealthy smell of the room. Dad, you have turned into the one wearing a séance. You forgot to talk to me. I played the knife game today, fingers spread on the glass cover of the coffee table. The problem: my eyes closed too many times. My hand looks chewed, a loose piece of knitting. How is it that, still, we can keep someone dead in the house? A whale on land is not hematite, striped silver, not liquid, not mercury, not a whale. This whale, dragged from the dune and sandy, is no one I know. Grounded completely. He was never that. A heap of rotting hay. I’d burn it tonight if I could. Do you hear that, Dad? Dirty clothes. Fireplace left over from a fallen down house. Ears where lightning struck eyes squirrel hollows nose a shriveled sunless branch no mouth (he was quiet) hands the oyster shell shapes of fungus wing flutters his knees tight gnarled knots in the skin the leaves a halo bothered by wind.                             September 8, Distilled I took the sleeper car to see him the last time. I had been drinking since Mom called. I found this on a club car napkin: The train windows are drunk— lips licked with whiskey, brown-tainted, swallowed in caramel. Pine trees dip through the slurred puddles dragging their lacy feet. When we are quick the trees are whipped into mud. Burial mounds aching, all stuck through with bones, aching in solitary pain— lost hills of death— now run together like ocean waves. Even the creek we travel with begins to look liquid, fast as glass, and slips along shimmering and ridged like a clear earthworm. The man who left this at the bar was wet, from the knees down. I imagined about him: I see a man right now in the middle of a business suit in the middle of a rain finding a seat on the sidewalk then pulling a garbage bag over his head all around him. I immediately think of punishment, lost babies that people throw in dumpsters in plastic. I think to save him. He is just hiding. Again, there are babies in my head. When you can’t see, there is nothing truer, that no one can see you back. The man is simply in a place with not so many colors. It isn’t that he disappeared. That can be blamed on the rest of them. The rain has something to do with this: the black of oil churning in circles separating to turn into everything. Wings of color, all directions. The man looked down to see his grief diving and swimming in smiles. And a car ran over this. When he crossed the street, some splashed on his shoes. He caught a little of the all in his pant cuffs. So he sits. None of this is important though. It matters that he is still there, that I am still with him, though across the road. But in the train. Nearly there. Now I am wishing there is no drink limit: I empty the whisky into the hollow-eyed tire swing.  It drips slowly out, like a sloppy tradition, from a nail-hole in the tread. New whiskey, steeped in old oil and dirt road, rubber.  I sit underneath, mouth open to catch the tired rain.  A golden looking glass down my throat.  Spreading. The train slows in time to my blood. The amazing thing about me is that I am as pale as water in an ash marble fountain. You can see right through my skin. Lacy capillaries twinkling like angels. My dejected, frown of a liver. Downstream, muscles wrapped as Valentine gifts. Ovary arrowheads. Lungs, one broken wagon wheel. My ribs, flirty, and always slightly unzipped, show a winking heart, like a lighthouse. I direct everyone home.                                           September, One Wing The trees—long-lasting fireworks. This branching in everything: streams fall in ribbons, broken around a rock arms to fingers little thoughts, like “Kiss me there” limbs into “and there” to the twig of “one more” lightning Nothing stays one, together. But nothing ever comes unattached. Look at each cold breath growing lie a crystal tree in the air. Every bit of air drawn in is immediately lost in a web of veins tributaries ending in still more gossamer. It is just as possible to branch in a circle as it is to fall together there, but the branching is what lasts.                                           September 12, Grub A lovely dinner— guests easy to please— and not after long we napped in the backyard in the bog. I floated down to dine with nine corpses this evening. We ate the flower’s meat twine-green bones. I prepared this salad: unzipped the muslin dress of lettuce, split and spilled the whole heart of a carrot’s arrow, cut the diamond of an onion chandelier, unplugged a throbbing tomato from its juice. I did more.  My fingers are stained radish. All our life’s work is dying. Look at any face. you will see shriveled kidneys left too long in an oven. at the same time, a bloated liver strung with a flood of poison. knees crumbling in a concrete way from their business in the slums. (I am taking the body apart again) the library of the lungs each book weighed with mold. I tossed a few of my own teeth with salad, for croutons.                                           September 10, The Last of the Season I hate to realize what I’ve been doing since ten.  Raking in the wind. Peeling impaled leaves, leather butterflies, off my rake. It is homemade and wooden. I may as well have a broom. Trucks encourage the wind and, the lonely ones, on the road for weeks, see me, a girl, and yell out. They must miss some one. I think, if Sisyphus and I were the same age, we’d have a good time. I could walk on top of his rock like a log roller, rake in hand, sweeping the wind to get the flyaways. Whoever finished first would buy the end-of-the-day beers.  We could finally sleep. Dad would rather leaves rot in our marsh of a lawn than to rake. His plan was a forest of mushrooms and the under-stone smell that clings to the legs of grey feathery insects.  Our yard was left to its own.  Once, it thought itself into a pond and drowned. I stand between the wind and my lighter and touch each of the eight shriveled fingers. A rake on fire looks like a strange, scared man. I dropped him in the gutter.                                           September 13, Burial To think like a tree, first let yourself into the ground.  Sometimes your roots go down, sometimes you must dig a hole to stand in.  The religion of dirt heads into toes, then rides the sap up the body.  It slows you down like meditation. Tar for blood.  Now, a tree. The touch of onion chiffon on fingers, a wet light bulb, the way a sharp star smells. Onions look like full clouds when the clouds are so large the veins of the sky thicken soon to rush again with rain turning the land rusty. The clouds all day have looked like my dog— not the shape of Aslan, but the pipe smoke quality of him— something you feel like you should be able to hold, but can’t. Each swelling of the skin of the clouds is a single curl of Aslan’s fur. He actually stayed on my bed when I put him there for two minutes with the window’s wind on his nose then ran off to find where the breeze went. I stayed at the window. Some of the grass after the long assembly decided that the air was no good. The rebels (the union) have started growing back into the ground, head-first and loopy like a strange, one-color needlepoint. The trees, when they heard about all this grew mournful.  Again. It’s nothing new.  They cry about having lost everything, and they have. They look like they have. The stage of winter. Teachers say it is the less light that throws people on their knees in the snow. It is really the teacher of the trees, their tragedy.  A little Oedipus, part Hamlet, and always Death of a Salesman.  The no communication that is communication. The trees think they are sad, sure. But they are making people cry. With all this nonsense going on, the tulips have decided to stay in their leafy eggs forever.  A dreamy hibernation that lasts, swirled in satin licks, the insect-black inside. Clouds bandage the bruised sky above my unhappy yard. Aslan has come back his head under my hand for a second. Is it coincidence brains are shaped like clouds? A tree’s tiara?                                           September, Graves: those that are cared for every Saturday, marble rinsed down, dead daisies removed, azaleas trimmed those set in diagonals with rose marble, not ash enumerous those that are warm boiling over with dirt ones that are empty, not drawn yet, but surely will be above the ground below rain-riddled, or roots dusted with lilacs, with the taste of dusk ones sculpted as angels those with candles in wind-proof glass ones for children, with dolls with snow on top sometimes, the ocean forgotten the skin, when one dies alone those that have been robbed, lockets snapped from crackling spine rings slid off white sticks the skin, when one wants to die                                           September 30, How I Made The Day I went diving in a water cave, a dark-lit, placid, ocean grave where sharks were sleeping like dull blades, and kept far from the nightmare waves. Stalagmites crawling with sea lice this well where Mayans sacrificed held gold that seemed to melt like ice when I brought it to the surface for light. Each honeyed tear dripped again to the ground to form a glassy, glowing mound like lave worming, turning sound the cursed gold coiled pools around. I saw this frozen light become a thousand eyelids, then just one. It opened to let out the sun, from under this water the day was spun. A tarry sea was tempered to the water that can teem and chew, a phoenix and a wildfire brew. The ocean from black drowsy gold to blue.                                           After All, Renovations The finish is inching off the floors. Unpainting itself in rays. Unraveling your work. Your fingers were splintered like a cactus.  And now, are sinking into wood, spilling into each bare fiber. There’s your whirlpool thumbprint— no, a mat dark in the plank. Is that your elbow’s scar I’m standing over? My toe closes your eye. No, that’s not right. A tangle of knee?  Dizzy. Turn around, turn it all back to wood. October’s End, All Souls’ Sunset Skeletons clank woodenly in the dark Light through the ribs— wind all over Mexico. a dead red prism.; The blanket on you, Witch costume, ragged at the knees. frozen prism, Stringy hair, echo of fringe. was woven on such a night, A painted girl pulls her hat, turns strings of dusk shy, at a dog. the weft, Later, the real demons, stars strung as shy warp. the children gone. You were born after sunset. Your face is so open, It is right you should be gone eyes closed, and always begs: at the same time. “Just one more sweet. Children are begging pesos I’m in light up to my elbows as ghosts. A small devil but not drowned yet” alights at my elbow. The blanket settles. A skeleton has begun to show through The cloth holds onto your old body, the settling blanket. the wind to the shore.

http://www.mortarmagazine.org/forgetting-a-father