#3) BIGGER BLOODY PROBLEMS

[terminally-stressed]

Imagine being a credited news channel that is so obsessed with one awful family that Tumblr is currently a better news outlet and has been for a while

[7weaslesinacoat]

i get that everyone’s like “oooo dick was so teensy when he was robin lol, that must’ve been so weird hahahaha”

but have you SEEEN an eight year old? imagine a full on 3 ft 11 child in a felt costume running around. like not “oh he’s eight” but then robin is built like a full ass teenager. no, none of that. imagine an EIGHT YEAR OLD standing above a crime scene, with chubby cheeks and all going-

“holy homicide batman! looks like whoever did the devilish dead really had it out for this guy!”

THIS NEEDS TO BE A BIGGER PROBLEM.

and it’s the most gruesome, horrific, bloody crime scene ever. and there’s just:

“don’t worry officers! robin on the case! 🤓👦”

[theealbatross]

marry me (s.s.)

Plot | The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

Tags | miscommunication, mentions of murder and poisonings, fluff, implied smut, dangerous idiots in love, fluff, 6k-ish words

A/N: sorry this took so long i went on a vacation! One of the funniest line about Ominis locking the two of them up was written by @/shinzhon in our discord server!

Series Masterlist - the rest of the chapters here

“Seriously Sebastian, how many times has it been this month?”

“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!”

“So, you slipped and somehow ended up in the Restricted Section? Is there some secret passage I hadn’t known about? Care to share to the class?” Ominis pinned him with a look and despite knowing his friend was blind Sebastian still raised his hands in surrender. Ominis sighed, there was no point really. When he had agreed to be friends with the troublesome boy in their first year he had signed up for this. It’s his fault for not seeing the mischievousness in those innocent brown eyes.

“I’m surprised,” Ominis continued as he started the trek back to their common room, the painful small talks he had with the headmaster in order to prevent anything getting sent to Solomon already fading as he got further away from the office. He could only imagine the absolute hell the old man would’ve sent their way if he had heard of his rendezvous in the Restricted Section. “It just isn’t like you.”

Sebastian scoffed, “To be in the Restricted Section? Where have you been the past year?”

“No, you idiot,” he hissed. “It isn’t like you to be caught.”

The falter in Sebastian’s steps had him raising an eyebrow, neck snapping back in accusation. “I’ve been caught once,” Sebastian reminded him quickly of the time Scribner first put the anti-Alohamora charm in the doors of the Restricted Section.

"I'm not finished," He’s hiding something. “It isn’t like you to be caught twice.”

He stopped on his track at the sound of Sebastian’s wince. “Okay, don’t be mad –”

“Oh no.”

“The new fifth-year needed some help to get in the restricted section because – well, I actually can’t tell you, she made me swear – and it’s bigger than the both of us and it was going so well! But Peeves caught just as we were about to –”

“Honestly, Sebastian, enough!”

He didn’t need to hear any of this.

Sebastian was right. Whatever great big mess that new kid was in the middle of was bigger than the both of them. And he has had more than enough on his plate trying to keep his friend out of trouble without the additional presence of another mysterious adrenaline junkie being thrown in the mix – one who was worryingly a magnet for big trouble. It was no wonder Sebastian was transfixed; he was looking at the damn mirror.

“Whatever fascination you have with that girl ends now,” It doesn’t escape him how much he sounded like a father getting in-between two lovers. He would’ve laughed in incredulity at the current situation he had found himself in if he wasn’t so bloody frustrated. “You get in enough trouble on your own, she doesn’t need to be sucking you up in her own problems.”

Sebastian makes a sound that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes, Ominis’ and the blond’s blood vessels nearly pop. He cannot believe this.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that. Honestly, she was brilliant! You should’ve been there; she took to the Disillusionment spell so quick that if we hadn’t let out guard down, we –”

“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, why don’t you marry the damn girl and the both of you leave me out of your tomfooleries!”

That would be ideal, he thinks. In a perfect world, he’s going to lock the two of them in a room and eat the key. There he would have no daily nuisances, won’t have to worry about sneaky Slytherins and the explosion of troubles they bring with them, and won’t need to suffer through Headmaster Black’s presence to get them out of it. A thankless job that brought nothing but headaches.

It was only when he was out of his blissful reverie that he realized his headache had stopped walking behind him seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

No.

“Sebastian … “

The other boy audibly flinched, his breath now irregular, and Ominis will bet all the galleons in the Gaunt’s vault that if he could see his old friend’s face would be as red as a Gryffindor’s arse right now.

He could almost cry, his palms producing embarrassing cold sweats at the absolute worst-case scenario unfolding in front of his unseeing eyes. “Please – I am begging you – not this one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh no, no, no.

Suddenly, the prospect of Sebastian and this troublemaker getting together was not that idyllic. In quick successions, all possible worst-case scenario popped in Ominis head. Sebastian was bad enough, if he had someone who was equally as reckless and rash as him it would be something out of his worst nightmare.

Ominis is a good person. This can’t be happening to him.

“Sebastian, listen to me –”

With only a breeze as his answer Sebastian skipped right past Ominis and up the grand staircase. Ominis could feel the heat of his face. “No time to talk. Got somewhere to be –”

“Sebastian, no!”

Why must it keep happening to him?

Sebastian was pretty sure the house in Feldcroft has not heard Anne’s laughter in a long, long time. Yet, here you were, huddled together with his sister, whispering giggle-worthy stories about him no doubt by the way your gaze kept fluttering back to him, and lifting the dreadful ooze that has monopolized the small space since his sister’s illness.

“Nice girl,” He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized his uncle had been sitting on the spare bed hidden by a curtain.

“Y-Yeah,” Merlin’s beard you even got his unpleasant uncle’s favor in such a short time – a miracle worker, truly. “She’s … quite something.”

Talking to him has always been awkward.

Even before Anne had gotten sick, he found it difficult to converse with the man who looked too much but was simultaneously nothing like his gentle, kind father. And maybe it was also the childish insistence that if he had let the man into his heart, he would betray his parents – his father – that he just couldn’t let him in. It would feel too much like replacing him so he just opted in letting Solomon linger at the precipice of his life and the man was more than happy to do so.

After all, if Solomon was nothing like his father, Sebastian was everything that reminded Solomon of his dead brother. And those were holes none of them could fill for each other.

“You know, your mother was the same,” Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, never hearing Solomon talk about her till now. “When she was a 7th year I was just starting in Hogwarts and let me tell you, I had little hope for that brother of mine of ever getting her attention.”

His uncle continued to stare at you like he was seeing a ghost – the good kind – not the kind he sees when he looks at him. “She was brilliant, loved by even the firmest professors. And was always willing to hold out a helping hand, even to lost first years whose ass of a brother left to go fend for himself in the confusing moving stairs of Hogwarts.”

Even Sebastian let out a chuckle at that ridiculous image. Sometimes he forgets that even his old uncle had once been a child. The thought is uncomfortable, especially looking at the man he is now. “I always told him he was out of his mind for courting your mother but did my crazy brother listen? Absolutely not.”

Where was he going with this?

Sebastian returned his eyes back to you.

Brilliant, admirable, courageous you.

With your bright smile that feeds his ego by always shining brighter with him. The recklessness that never fails to infuriate and impress on his last nerves. The kindness you innately had in you that makes him want to wrap you up in the finest silk then lock you up in an impenetrable room so nobody else may ever touch it – so nobody else may have you.

That would be best, he thinks.

“It would seem even that insanity he had passed on to you.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so all his blood doesn’t go to his face, unable to look at the older man. “It’s not like that,” he cleared his throat, now unable to look at you. “We’re … friends.”

“A good … companionship is built upon friendship,” Sebastian’s head whipped to this uncle as if to say ‘how would you know?’ but his uncle just grunted, shrugging before standing up to busy himself in the kitchen, calling you out to assist and telling Anne to take her medicine.

A good companionship. He knows it’s a bit too early but the thought of it wasn’t as horrifying as he thought it would be. The budding interest he had in his new friend was pushed and shoved into the deepest nook of his brain – he had more pressing things to tend to, one that was more important than discerning why he could recognize the sound of her laughter in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall.

But if he really thinks about it, takes a moment to breathe and considers it … it would be nice. She’s had research interest but with her grades and skill being a renowned curse-breaker or even an auror isn’t out of the question. If he works hard, he knows he’d be able to keep up and support her and Anne – maybe even set up an apartment in the city, they can just visit his sister when they have the chance.

Of course,he will try to encourage her to settle back down in Feldcroft if Anne still lives here but Irondale is quite beautiful too, a good place to practice flying when they have a family, let his children experience a true childhood surrounded by peace and quiet – two kids would be nice. Twins run in the family so maybe he could convince her for another one if their first pair are of the same gender. He would really like a daughter who looks just like --

 “I like her.”

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian jumped when he realized his twin sister was now right in front of him while he was deep in his embarrassing delusions. (When did the members of his family become so sneaky?) She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what had him so distracted. To avoid her piercing stare, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he guided her in the little nook of her bedroom where all the vials full of her medicines were stored.

“I knew you would. ‘s why I brought her here.”

“Oh?” Anne nonchalantly drank a disgusting-looking fluid in one gulp. “So, it wasn’t cause you wanted to monopolize her and get ahead of your competition back at Hogwarts?”

Sebastian gawked, his entire body heating up from the accusation. “What – no, it’s not – I thought she would cheer you up!”

He quickly took a quick peek at the corner, relieved that you were too busy charming his uncle off to hear such absurd allegations against him. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of him at all. After all, for how wondrous those visions are, he puts your friendship on a pedestal above anything else.

He thinks he’ll be more than content to be just your friend. Maybe.

“How gracious of you, brother,” Anne smirked, in this light it was almost like the old Anne.

Sebastian smirked at her, masking indifference, “I try.”

He should’ve known. Anne would be the one who might just see through all of him, even the things he likes to keep from his head. Even his most impossible dreams of cozy cottages and soft days.

“Sebastian!” The twins straightened up at your voice, both felt like they had been caught red-handed as you cheerfully rounded the corner. “Oh, was I interrupting –”

“No, not at all!” Anne pushed Sebastian firmly, making him stumble and catch himself just as he was about to crash into you. The proximity forces him to stare as your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He stops breathing.

You’ll look dazzling in white; he thinks.

“Your uncle told me your neighbor had some mint in their garden, said you could help me find it? It would go well with the juice.”

Sebastian’s eyes fell to your lips as you spoke before physically ripping his eyes out to look at your eyes, nodding, as his brain tried to keep up between his imagination and the reality of your face in front of his.  You grinned, already walking towards the door. He lets out a breath, the faint traces of your perfume that he gave you wafting an enchanting trail that kept his gaze on your retreating back.

“Get on with it,” Anne pushed him again and this time he gave her his deadliest glare as he followed after you. “You can’t hide her in Feldcroft forever.”

“Zip it.”

Solomon stood next to Anne as they stared at the two sweethearts in their own worlds as they made an adventure out of the small trip. Anne couldn’t help but giggle when Sebastian tripped because he was too busy looking at you instead of the road.

“Are men always this stubborn and stupid?”

“No,” Solomon grumbled, heart aching fondly when in a blink he could almost see a different mirage of figures that were both familiar and strangers at the same time. “He’s just his father’s son.”

“It’s over.”

Sebastian turned his head, straying his eyes away from the night sky framed by the room’s glass ceiling to look at you.  “It’s over.”

The two of you lay down on the floor of the room of requirement, sneaking away from the graduation party to spend the last moments of your life as a student in Hogwarts together. It wasn’t intentional, you had sneaked out for a proper goodbye to the sentient room and thanked it for everything it had provided for you but, like always, Sebastian had gotten ahold of your sneaking form before you could take two steps away from his side.

Sebastian can see that the inevitability of it all is making you emotional, a Hogwarts-shaped hole already forming in the crevices of your heart. The thought of no longer having this haven to escape the world's cruel realities makes him sigh.

“I’m terrified,” your whispered confession surprised him.

His gallant darling? Scared?

“What for?”

You smiled at him sheepishly. “It feels stupid but … I’m scared of things changing. I feel like that little girl again – 15 years old and alone in this great, big world I was thrust into.” Sebastian noticed a shudder crawl over your body. “And this time I won’t have a cheeky Slytherin lad to show me around.”

Sebastian frowned, unsure if he was more disappointed at you for thinking you would lose him that easily or at himself for not nailing that the two of you were tethered forevermore in that bright head of yours.

Instead, he took your shaking hands that you tried to hide and held on to it tight.

You smiled up at him. “Promise to stay in touch?”

He could almost scoff at such an understatement of a request. Do you know I’m never letting you go?

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he grinned, hoping to charm the rest of your remnant fears away. “I expect weekly letters while I’m away from training.”

You scrunched your nose, which he thinks is just adorable “What? So you can brag to your fellow trainees you have a lovesick lady waiting for you at home?”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling and heart racing, “Maybe I should keep a photo of you plastered on my wall then, really commit to the part. A pretty face like you on my walls should make me the envy of my entire group.”

Her laugh came out nervous, her grip on his hands tightened. She’s still scared.

If only he had been sorted in Gryffindor maybe then he would’ve been daring enough to say something. To fall to his knees in this room and let his forehead kiss the ground and beg you to stay with him, run away with him, marry him. To let him spend the rest of his lowly life making sure you will never be lonely again.

But the fates were cruel and for all his pretense of confidence, the gods’ honest truth is he is a coward. A coward with no prospects.

If he wants your hand he needs to prepare, to follow the plan he had mapped out since the night he had realized he would very much like to spend the rest of his life with you or die trying. He might not be worth anything for now but he’ll make himself enough.  He just needs to hold on … just two more years – it’s all he asks.

Just two years for him to establish himself, to become someone, to earn the right to ask you. He knows it will be hard, you’ll be engrossed in your own research and won’t be able to see him as he trains to be an auror. And there was always a risk of you meeting someone else but he’s already made Poppy swear to report everything to him while she accompanies you in your travels, a contingency plan for any hurdle that may put a wrench in his plans.

If all of this fails then so be it, but he won’t lose you from a lack of planning or trying.

“Why are you looking at me like that?

He didn’t realize he was staring at you while his thoughts ran wild. The dark of your eyes reflected the ceilings you had charmed with the sky of the Forbidden Forest. The dim hue of the room made you look ethereal, like a forest fairy sent to lead him to a beautiful doom. He’d follow you anywhere.

Is it too soon to tell you I love you?

Is it too late?

“Have I ever told you that you’re the only one I need?” Sebastian suddenly whispered, vulnerable.

It’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to say for now, placating the intensity of his need to be close to you by properly laying on his side and pressing a firm hand on your cheeks as you followed his lead, your own loosely dangling on his waist.

“Don’t you think Ominis will be quite offended by that?” you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on his spine.

He couldn’t help but match your grin, “He’ll live.”

“Sebastian,” your words quiet but he moved his hand at the back of your head to pull you in closer, muffling your following words on his chest. “Promise me nothing will change?”

Sebastian’s hold on you tensed, pressing the gentlest kiss at the top of your head to silence his protests.

No, he wants to scream. Everything has to change.

He’ll change everything for you.

“I promise,” he lies.

He’s no Gryffindor, after all.

[ 5 years later ]

“I almost fucking killed you!”

You rolled your eyes, which was a bad idea considering the curse that malfunctioned in Gringott’s brought upon a gaggle of Inferis along with a mutated one that grew about ten feet tall. Before it could lunge straight at your head, Sebastian – Merlin’s beard, he was still as handsome as the day you had left Hogwarts – pulled you into him before casting a Protego followed by a Confringo, blasting the undead’s arm away.

Still his favorite after all these years.

“What? You become a bigshot Auror and forget my face?!”

With an Incendio, the rest of the Inferis were now weakened enough that Sebastian was able to finish them all in one go (bloody hell!). Giving you time to gather yourself and lash out a heavy burst of ancient magic to take care of the giant Inferi once and for all.

You wobbled from the effort but firm hands and a chest caught you. When you looked up you were greeted by a cantankerous Sebastian covered in dust and dirt.

“As if I could see your face in those ridiculous glasses you’re wearing. Is that a lizard’s eye?”

You pulled on the offending thing, turning and standing on your tiptoes to put it on him, then he could see that it helps with seeing the traps laid out around the vault. “Satisfied your inquiries, Mr. Auror?”

He pushed the glasses to the top of his head, still looking down at you with a suspicious glare. Damn him and damn the entire male race for their inability to stop growing their limbs. “I should have you arrested. Illegally breaking into Gringots? What were you thinking?”

“Please, any curse-breaker you sent this way would’ve been eaten by that curse, I barely got out with my life if not for my ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows twitched in the familiar way when he wasn’t particularly fond of you – which usually only happens when you throw yourself in danger … like today. Old habits die hard.

“I –”

“Save it,” he raised a palm. You sucked your lips into a thin line comically – it has been half a decade since you last saw him after all, you’re not entirely quite sure If this Sebastian in front of you would hesitate in throwing his prodigal best friend into the cold stone walls of a ministry ordained prison. “You owe me.”

Before he could, you fired off a blast of ancient magic behind him, crushing the lone Inferi that was bidding its time under a rock. You smirked. “Are we even now?”

“Not even fucking close,” His face was blank, unamused. Sebastian’s patience has never been the longest but this is one of the few times his ire was aimed at you, the novelty of it would make you blush if you weren’t so guilty. “Where have you been?”

This time it was your smile that fell, eyes dropping with it in shame. Straight to it, huh.

“Sebastian … I left a lett –“

“A letter! You call that a letter?!” He guffawed, turning his back on you and started pacing just at the ledge that led to a very, very, long fall to the bottom of Gringotts. Your fingers twitched to reach out for him but you had a feeling he wasn’t particularly interested in getting mothered right now as he spiraled out the words you’re sure he had surely been holding the past years. “My dearest friend, one who fights trolls for practice and is the most wanted woman of all dark wizards in the country disappears without a trace even when I spent an entire year searching for her –”

He looked for you?

“—but oh no! All is well Sebastian, she left you a bloody note!”

You felt like a reprimanded toddler but maybe (just maybe) you deserved it. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Something in your words snapped the last of Sebastian’s nerve. The gall of you – to stand here like it was nothing. The days he had spent tracking you, dreading the moment he would be greeted by your corpse.

How dare you leave? How dare you leave him? Of all the people in this world you were the one who was supposed to stay on his side.

‘I’ll be back. I promise. I just need time’

He marched to where you were standing, cupping both of your shoulders so you can look at him. “I will be given an explanation.”

Instead, your eyes fell on his left hand. He followed your line of sight, the gold band around his finger making all your cruelest nightmares come true.

How did it come to this? You scoured your memories of your entire friendship – how had the two of you come from being unable to keep a single secret from each other to strangers that have too many unspoken grievances in between them?

Was this inevitable?

Finally, you gathered your strength. He did deserve the truth from you of all people. And you could truly never keep a secret from Sebastian even now – which is also why you left. The shame, the unjustified anger, the hurt in your chest when you looked at him – you couldn’t handle it.

“I … I heard from Leander.”

His frown deepened. What does Leander have anything to do with this?

“I was going to visit you on the last weekend of your training. Then Leander caught me in town and he said … he said that after you had finished your auror training you were planning to propose, that you were already looking for a ring.”

He is going to kill that orange blabbermouth fuc –

“I couldn’t – surely, you couldn’t be that daft. I … I loved you, Sebastian! And I know I’m your friend and I should’ve been there for you. And I really am – I am happy for you,” you took his hand, your gentle touch shakily running through the gold band around his ring finger as you tried to hold back the tears. It felt like it was mocking you, like it could burn a mark on your skin. “If anyone deserves to build a family it would be you. I just … in that moment I couldn’t be happy for you. I needed to remove myself from the situation and I couldn’t say goodbye – you wouldn’t have let me! I panicked and I was hurt and … I really am sorry. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

As humiliating as it was to say all the hurt that you were carrying with you as you traveled the world to escape your love for him it did make you feel lighter. Were you a coward? Maybe so. But you will not shame your past self for what she did out of hurt and fear. It was painful but necessary.

It wasn’t until Sebastian was cupping your face and wiping your cheeks with his thumb that you realized you had been crying.

“Darling, who did you think the ring was for?”

You blinked, “What?”

You could tell he was trying to lengthen his patience with you, clearly as he was the more emotionally stable one at the moment even though it looked like he was at the precipice of choking you. "Have I ever told you that I was courting anyone?”

The conversation was taking a turn you weren't expecting. “N-No, but Leander and Everett used to keep teasing you about the Ministry girls that was always at your tail so I just assumed …”

He raised his eyebrows, holding onto your cheeks tighter so you had to look at him. For the first time in your entire friendship, you couldn’t read him at all. “I assumed you became interested in one of them.”

He sighed, “No, sweetheart. I did not become interested in any of them.”

You frowned, still feeling the cold ring on your cheek. “Then who did you marry?”

“I’m … not married.” This time it was him who seemed to blush, actually breaking eye contact to chuckle. When he looked back at you it was like you were getting a peek of the boyish Sebastian you once knew. “I would have been if the beautiful witch I had been chasing did not disappear on me right when I was about to propose.”

His words sunk into you like molasses, the wrinkle in between your eyebrows disappearing as your eyes widened in realization. Surely, he doesn’t mean –

“I just wore it since I would’ve been wearing it either way if someone had said yes. And it’s a more effective way to ward off any hopefuls. A little white lie to cover up my bruised heart and spare their egos”

“Wait, wait –“you tried to push him away but one of his arms just wrapped around your back, pushing your chest to his. He wasn’t going to let you get away this time, if he has to cast a binding spell on you without your knowledge then so be it.

The past five years had been torture enough.

“I guess it’s what I deserved. Letting the love of my life wait around just because my pride wanted me to earn the right to ask for her hand. The Hero of Hogwarts, the brightest witch of our age – surely, I couldn’t just ask her, could I?”

The abundance of information threatened to drown your head in. Pieces of the grand puzzle that never seemed to fit right clicking and clacking in your head as you slowly pieced together the blanks in the history of your relationship because you didn’t bother to ask and he didn’t bother to say anything.

He means you right? He was going to propose to you? The bloody ring you’ve been having nightmares about was for you?!

But he had never … I mean sure you flirted here and there but it was nothing … official. No words were ever shared, no announcements, nor formality.

It was all very … murky and ambiguous.

“Hey, back to me, darling,” he gently pressed his thumb that was still holding on to your cheek. “I swear even when we’re together it’s like you’re still running away.” As if suddenly lost in thought himself he murmured, “Should I charm a chain on you, after all?”

You blinked and the dark glint in his eyes that you had only seen in his darkest moments in your fifth year disappeared, now replaced with a small cheeky smile.

“Sebastian, the ring was it – surely it wasn’t –”

“For you?” He was so close now that you could count all the freckles in his face, his lips running through your cheeks, even pressing a kiss on your temple. “Then riddle me this, my love – if not for you then who else would it be for? Hmm? Who else would I be begging to be my wife if not my most treasured friend? The one person who stood beside me through it all?”

Another kiss on your cheeks. “The only light in my life?”

The underside of your jaw. “The beautiful witch who had rudely stolen my heart when we were children then had the nerve to run away with it just as I was able to gather all the courage I had to ask for hers in return?”

He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling and pulling and pulling as if he wanted to meld the two of you together. “Who else but you? There was and would’ve been nobody else but you.”

A shadow of a kiss at the edge of your lips. “You’re the only woman I have ever loved.”

Your heart threatens to explode.

“And you’re the only one I will ever love,” he whispered, but the quiet of the caves of Gringotts made his voice echo inside your overheating skull.

You had been aware of Sebastian’s charms when you were younger but now that he was using his pretty face and raspy voice at its full extent while professing his love for you in the murky caves of Gringotts and pieces of Inferi corpses scattered on the ground – you could almost feel your brain malfunctioning.

“I had resigned myself to a life of isolation if you had never come back,” he declared. “But you did. Why?”

He was not going to accept anything less than the truth. The intensity behind his eyes, the grip he has around you was so firm you were almost hanging off the ground. The unbearable weight of your guilt for almost driving this man to insanity even if it had not been your intention had you letting go of your defenses.

“Because I missed you,” you admitted, eyes looking straight at him to finally bare your soul. “And I couldn’t find anything the world could offer that could compare to you. Even if we just remained friends I –”

His chuckle cut you off.

“We could never just be friends,” he whispered, you couldn’t agree more. “We were never just friends. Darling, I’m not a religious man but if soulmates are real then yours and mine have always been tied to each other. And if whatever god is up there was cruel enough not to have done that then I would’ve knotted it myself.”

You giggle through your tears – you had played out so many fantasies of Sebastian’s confessions and yet now that you were living your wildest dreams it felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest.

“If you hadn’t come back, it would’ve done nothing short of killing me, you have to know that,” a ragged breath escapes him as if the mere memory of your escape were enough to cause him physical pain. “Because I love you and I have always loved you even back when I didn’t know what love is. Even when love was a mere flutter in my chest every time I looked at you. Even when I was a fool in a path to destruction I … I have always, always loved you.”

You nodded, almost gasping at the intensity of his words. “I love you too, Sebastian. So much. I would’ve always come back. I couldn’t – I would’ve honestly poisoned your wife if you had married another.”

A laugh exploded out of his mouth at your sudden proclamation, echoing through the eerie corners of the caves. “And I had more than enough daydreams of torturing any lovers you might’ve taken in your travels.” The sickly-sweet tone that contrasted such horrid words had you giggling.

“Think we should stick to each other then?” You roped an arm around his neck, letting him carry your dead weight. “Spare some poor suckers from poisons and murders.”

He grinned, leaning in closer and closer, “You always had been the one with bright ideas.”

You smiled just as he finally pressed his lips into yours. Even your wildest dream couldn’t compare to this. Sebastian’s greedy grip on your waist, his familiar scent, his taste – him. It wasn’t perfect – a bit too rough, too needy yet somehow never enough – it was better, a perfect amalgamation of your entire relationship.

“Marry me,” he commanded in between kisses, too desperate to separate from you for more than a second. “Tell me you’ll have me.”

“You’re mine,” You gasp when he suddenly turned you around and pressed you on the jagged wall of the cave. “Always been mine.”

You’ve never not been mine.

Suddenly, Sebastian ended your kisses, a whine slipping out of your throat which he placated with a quick peck before he haphazardly pulled a necklace of some kind around his neck, snapping it to let the pendant fall into his palms.

Only it wasn’t a pendant. It was a ring. The ring.

“Oh my, Sebastian,” your vision blurs with tears as he gently takes your shaking hand, slipping the beautiful jewelry on your ring finger where it shall sit forever. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to marry you.”

He groaned, pressing his forehead to your temple as you continued to admire the ring on your finger.

“You keep buttering me up like this and I’ll have to kidnap the first priest I see when we get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t object to that, we’ve never been one for propriety.”

“I can’t believe we had our first kiss in Gringott’s of all places,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice tickling your chest as he buries his face in it.

“That wasn’t my first kiss.”

That had his head snapping, eyes murderous at your words. "What?”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

“Huh.”

You nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact as he tries to scour through his memories.

“Remember our fight in the Room of Requirement? About the Triwizards game?”

He winced. “I’d rather not remember that.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You settled back, knowing him well enough to know his mind was rapidly working through his memories to figure out the cryptic declaration you had confessed.

It had been frustrating when you had remembered such important event days after it happened. All it had taken was a faint whiff of Sebastian’s shampoo in your pillow in the room of requirement before you were shooting up in your bed at the memories trickling in your brain as you tried to figure out if it had been one of your more apparent daydreams only to scream when you had realized it had happened and the two of you completely forgot about it.

You had become wary of Sebastian then, staring and studying his face at any hint that he also had the luck of remembering such bold confessions from you. You aren’t sure if you were more relieved or disappointed when he showed no inkling of gaining the curse of such knowledge like you.

But at your sudden engagement to him, you believe you have suffered enough of such vexations alone. You are to be married after all which means the two of you shall share every burden from now on -- even the most embarrassing and frustrating ones.

Sebastian’s muscles locked, pushing himself up to cage you in bed as his frantic eyes widened.

You grin. He remembers.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way.”

He slumps back down in your chest, groaning. “Are you sure you're okay with marrying a bloody idiot?”

Your body shakes with laughter. “Lucky for you, idiots are just my type.”

[bon2bonn]

Just Another Day ......

22!F1!grid X female!driver!reader

It's just another day in the grid with our female!driver

Words count : 1.8k.

Warnings: grammar, not proof read , yet .

Papayas mishaps:

The reporter made a face but tried to keep going, but not five seconds later he tilted his head to the side mumbling under his breath 'what in the world' forgetting about his microphone that picked it making Max ask " pardon?" . The man stammered" sorry it's just ......." Then he pointed to the back over Max's shoulder making the said driver look back along with the camera .

Our driver was dangled upside down by Daniel with lando asking her something , to which she shook her head quickly in denial making Daniel shake her around before spinning her , she let out a loud laugh shouting 'weeeeeeee!' With her arms spread wide like a giddy kid . Max turned back to face the reporter and shrugged " it's just Thursday " the reporter nod and closed his mouth before moving on .

••••••••••••••••••

M.I.A:

Toto was on the verge of screaming bloody murdered in the middle of the garage, the media and press be dammed for all he cares when he got bigger problems to deal with , a problem in the form of a human being(gremlin if he could say it out loud) called 'Y/N' who happened to be his driver , and she was missing at the moment , again , exactly 10 minutes before race and she's still not found.

The last thing he imagined to go through a full blown mental breakdown ahead of a big race , but he wasn't surprised at all that she was the cause of it , and he was too close to lose it and was beyond contemplating the idea of sending a search party , because he already did send one out and they as expected returned empty handed . Shocking! , right? .

They asked around the other teams as discreetly as possible to not raise attention if they saw her but that came with nothing leading everyone to assume that either she finally did it and walked out , or something did happen to her , and by now everyone was leaning towards the first opinion more and more and Toto was about to lose his shit as other drivers and team principles came by to check if she was found yet . With every visit the media interest perked their way, specially when Max followed by Horner came by , igniting a shit load of rumours that he was not in the right mind to deal with , on top of that fans started to notice her absence around the pit and made it known, asking where she was and why she wasn't spotted for the past 3 three hours.

A camera came to focus on the Mercedes garage , zooming in on Toto who was talking urgently to a couple of staff members then at Lewis who was talking to someone on the phone , then shook his head to let the others know, then it slowly zoomed down on the ground right behind where Toto was standing .

Something was moving under the desk , it started to wiggle a bit before it rolled until it got out from there , a hand suddenly stuck out like a scene from a zombie movie and pushed the cover down to reveal a sleepy , disheveled , and might I add grumpy driver , blinking up at the ceiling lights in disorient then looked around at the team going around in a frenzy , and from where she layed on her back she looked out the garage and saw the camera giving it a sleepy smile and waved at it . She then rolled around a couple of times to get up and yawned as she walked silently to the crowd standing beside Toto and asked in confusion " what did I miss ? " Startling everyone into silence , staring at her like a ghost popping out of

Toto let out a sigh and turned to the closest chair, fall on it with his head on his hands , mumbling to himself on and on for a long moment. She then turned to the rest who were looking between her and Toto, giving the man looks of understanding and sympathy for the amount of stress he find himself in more than enough to make him go gray . She shrugged when no one seems to give an answer and went on her way with a mumble of ' good talk' , stretching her back and trying to brush back her now slightly messy hair behind her ears with a big yawn , then huffing in annoyance when she failed to and made a Beeline to Lewis side of the garage , and the moment he saw her he cheered " and she lives! ". She raised her arms in victory and asked with a pleading eyes, gesturing to her head " please relieve me of my misery " he grabbed the spare hair tie and Let her sit on one of the front tiers then started to salvage the mess , or tried to .

••••••••••••••••••

P1 disaster:

She held the 1st place trophy high and cheered up to the crowd below, putting it down away then grabbed the champagne bottle and gave it a hard shake , aiming with the intention of drenching Max and Charles , who didn't waste time to gang on her with their own bottles ready to shoot.

She stepped back to get back at them , but it was a very bad decision as it all came crashing down, literally , her foot slipping on a puddle of spilled champagne resulting in her falling backwards , but not before grabbing the closest thing which happened to be Charles who yelpped as he was brought down , his hands grabbed at Max , who's back was turned at the moment and he was dragged down face first , his own bottle falling with a big splash drenching the bystanders beneath the platform, the podium was a mess , and what a glorious mess it was.

•••••••••••••••••

Master chef mercedes:

Both her and Lewis were standing before the counter in the kitchen, demonstratieng while they prepare the dish , trying to not deadpan at the camera as the media crew cornered them before they could book it and dragged them to one of the kitchens and asked nicely (demanded with threats of hunting them down all day long for the next three days) to film some content for them , now looking back it's wasn't as well played as the media team though it would.

Our driver took out a bottle of red wine from one of the cabinets while Lewis stirred the the pan , she popped the lid first and poured a glass for herself to taste , her eyes lit up the she nod and added a bit " now add you wine and let it simmer for minute , we want to balance the flavour , so don't let it scorch like our tires five laps in on race day " , Lewis started to chuckle at the flames that caught in the pan and pointed " look! , it's like your car back in Monza " she clicked her tongue and shrugged at the flaming food " looks and smells like it too " then turned to grab the plates along with the sauces they prepared previously and started to decorate " two drops here , then a splash like Lewis's fuel leak in Baku there , then we add some freshly chopped parsley like my front wings in Qatar " Lewis winced " oooh, Qatar was a tough one to watch " she made a face " yeah , let alone feel it . Alright this is the final product " she picked up a plate and made Lewis hold it as she showcased it with a wide grin " this all we got this time " Lewis looked at the plate then hummed in approval " we make a pretty decent unprofessional chefs if I could say so " she shrugged " better than last race strategy , now we'll be off to make Toto eats it so tune in for his reaction , or ER admission " she waved with a beaming grin while Lewis nod and waved " see ya" .

••••••••••••••••••••

The favourite:

Carlos waved at the stands from his spot on the rails of the moving platform, Charles on his left side and max on his right as the three engaged in a conversation to which Max and Carlos disagreed with Charles who looked offended by their view, the frown on his face turned to confusion when he turned his back to lean on the rails instead of facing the crowd , a comeback died in his throat when he came face to face with lando who was glaring eminently at our driver , who Charles noticed was glaring back with a scowl on her lips.

He looked back and forth between the two and took a loud sip of his water and crossed his ankles , smiling in amusement as she hardened her glare which resulted in lando rolling his eyes and scoffing loudly, gaining the attention of the other two who turned to look .

They looked at her then to Lando as Max asked the later " what did you do to her ? " The said driver scowled at the accusation " why are you asking me !? Ask her ! " Max shrugged and pointed out " it's not Sunday yet , and it's too early for her to provoke anyone , so ...? " The others nod in agreement making him groan but she answered in matter of fact before he could " he's just being petty he's not Carlos favourite " said driver was about to give his opinion but was beaten to it with Lando calling out " oh , please! , as if you're his favourite" he watched as she gives him an unimpressed look with her hands on her hips " who said I wasn't? " Both looked at Carlos expectantly for an answer , he looked at them with a startled face but thankfully was cut off before he could answer with Charles pointing out nonchalantly " well , who said it wouldn't be me ? " Make the two turn heir judging scowls to the Ferrari driver and scoff in one voice " as if ! " .

Now it was his turn to glare , then turned to look pointedly at Carlos who was ambushed to answer them , he looked between the three then grabbed a confused Max by the shoulders to shove him in his place and called as he moved to the other side without looking back " Max is! " Leaving him to deal with the storm he left behind .

Sebastian chuckled at his pained face and clapped his shoulder " tough day ? " He nod and and answered with " Thursday " .

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Since you open ask box and request, can I get TF141 men (or Ghost and Gaz if you don't feel like to write all of them) reacting to cool, rarely smile, intimidating and stoic reader finally smiling for the first time. Let's say reader has soft spot for certain things (cat, dog, book, flower etc) and they immediately smile when they see them without realize it. Boys just keep falling harder for reader and decide to make it their mission to make reader smiles more often.

I guess that's all for now. Thank you

🦈

hello🦈 anon!! Sorry I wasn't sure you want me to write them separately or together, so I chose the latter lmao. Hope you will like it (or don't hate it), TYSM for the request :) I love this request so much since I'm always a fan of cool reader. tf141*GN!Reader, Reader's kinda tsundere word count: 1.9k

Every member of Task Force 141 saw you as a capable teammate, you went through thick and thin with them, and always have their back. On the field, your shooting accuracy and excellent combat skills saved you and the team many times, quickly clearing any threat so the mission wouldn’t be compromised. You have rarely been scolded by Price, and always dealt with your paperwork impeccably. The only problem was that you’re too stoic, they never saw you smile from the first day you joined the task force. More like a robot than a human, this is how others evaluated you, and you had an aura that made recruits afraid to speak to you.

You even smiled less than Ghost, at least the man still got some dry humor and bad jokes to spit out, but you rarely reacted to greetings except a nod, less to say about Soap and Gaz joking with you, they were lucky if you spared them a crook of your eyebrows to their teasing that day. but this only made your teammates curious —especially Soap — eager to know the person under the facade, even if it was just a little. Soap wrote down what he discovered from you every day in his journal, from how you always have your tea, to trivial habits like you would frown nearly imperceptibly when you see the cafeteria is out of your favorite sandwich. Soap would tell other men about what he finds about you today, and they would keep those details in mind too. Until the day, Laswell brought a big cake which she was gifted by others but she was unable to finish it herself. They saw your eyes brighten instantly, and an expectant smile blooms on your face. Your eyes stuck on the exquisite big cake in front of you, not aware of Gaz gaping at your smile like he saw the sun rise from the west today, how Price immediately stopped his hand while smoking his cigar so he could take a good look, even Ghost’s eyes were wide like full moon behind his mask. It wasn't until Soap’s yelp that dragged you out of your trance, and you turned around just to find all your teammates staring at you like you were an alien. “Any issues, MacTavish?” Confused, you asked Soap who made you stop staring at the cake. “You- You can smile?” “Did I?” “Well, let’s finish this quickly so it won’t left over to tomorrow” Price raised his hand to interrupt the talk before Soap could say other things “The fridge has no place to put this bloody huge cake.” After Price’s command, all of you walked and took a plate and fork. Price sliced a medium size for him, Ghost did the same. Soap took the knife and sliced a slightly bigger one for him and Gaz, but when he was about to cut one for you, you reached out your hand to beckon a “give me” gesture, which Soap obliged and handed over the handle to you. Only for him to see you slice 1/3 of that damn enormous cake and put it on your plate. “Wha- ye sure ye can eat all of ‘em ?!” His jaw dropped at the huge slice of cake that made the center of your paper plate sink, but only received an “huh” face from you. Well, his concern was unneeded, because you devoured the whole thing in 5 minutes, faster than everyone else, and stood up to cut another piece. “you really like cake ain’t you.” Gaz chuckled at the scene where you almost bury your face in the plate. “No.” “Then why are you smiling like a kid who sees their favorite toy?” Frowning, you touched your cheek to check, and oh shit, you truly were. “I-“ your face changed from :D to :| while you tried to find an excuse “It’s just Captain said that don’t leave the cake overnight, so I’m eating this much, not that I love cake.”

Even though your poor excuse, all of them knew their new goal now: bringing you cakes so they could see the pretty smile enthralled them. The first who brought you cake is Ghost, he saw a strawberry shortcake on his way back to the base, he didn’t think twice before he told the staff to wrap the cake for him. and he was sure his decision was right when he showed it to you, and you two sat in the common area. He drank the tea you made for him as appreciation while watching that pretty smile reappear on your face again. “Look who said they don’t love cakes, and eatin’ like a man who haven’t eaten in days now.” He lifted his mask to his nose to drink the tea, so when you shot him a glare, you could see the smirk spreading on his lips. “You bought it and I don’t want to waste it, that’s it.” you stabbed the fork on the cake. Ghost huffed out a laugh at your answer, but when you went back to swallow a full spoon of whipped cream, he took note in his mind to buy you the chocolate mousse he saw at the store next time, so the precious expression.

Gaz bought you an Earl Grey mille crepe cake a few days after, which was the flavor of your favorite tea. “It’s it good?” He gave you a toothly grin that you thought was too dazzling when the “not bad” slipped out your lips whilst you were busy finishing the cake. He sat beside you and ate the slice you cut for him, and he rambled about what happened today to entertain you. You pretended you were not interested, eyes never left the cake, but you memorized everything he said clearly.

Of course, Soap wouldn’t forget to dig into this breakthrough of yours. A big ‘they love CAKES!’ was written in his journal, with 2 circles highlighting the words. He considered you have eaten crepe cake and shortcake from Ghost and Gaz, so he got you a basque cheesecake. “What is this?” You tilted your head when you opened the take-out box. “basque cheesecake. Heard it from the medics.” Soap watched you attentively take a little bite at the cake, and he laughed when your face beamed up in a second. “Not bad?” He knew you just refused to admit you love cakes. You answered with your cheeks stuffed with cheesecake. “NAOW BAA” After he waved goodbye to you, he came back to his barrack, he opened his journal. a big ‘Basque cheesecake ✔️’ had been added under the circles.

The captain hadn’t let the chances to see your face gleam with happiness slip by too. As usual, you came to his office with a flawless report, and for some debrief about the next mission. When it was over and you were about to leave, he called your name to stop you from exiting. “Is there anything I forgot to tell you, Captain?” Your face was serious, without any improper or unprofessional, but it didn’t last long because Price took out a fresh cream Swiss roll. “You’re going to drool all over your shirt, sergeant.” He teased and received a little scowl from you, but the harmless scowl was unable to stop him from fixating on and mesmerized by the satisfied grin that lingered on your face when you made both of you some tea and started consuming the whole roll.

You got pampered by all 4 men of your team for months. Thanks to the high amount of exercise, you didn’t gain belly fat, and getting lots of cakes from them had you started gifting them things too. You got Ghost some nice whiskey when you came back from leave, which he gladly accepted and invited you to drink together. You gave Soap some snacks from your hometown and stationeries for journaling, and almost get squished into a dough by his tight embrace. Gaz got some game cards from you, and when he surprisingly asked you why you knew he wanted those games for a while, you just shrugged and walked away, there was no chance that you were gonna tell him you had been listening to him and Soap chatting about them. Price entered his office one day morning, and saw his box of favorite cigars and tea being placed on his desk. He realized it was you in the blink of an eye, only you would choose to secretly put gifts and refuse to leave a note indicating who you were. He just patted your head and thanked you when he met you in the training room.

Times flew fast when your life was occupied with missions and training (and cakes). Tonight you went out for a while to buy something for your teammates, since they still insisted on feeding you cakes frequently, recompensing them with gifts they loved had become your habit too. but when you searched from the common room to Price’s office, you couldn’t find any of them. Odd, you thought, you hadn’t heard them leaving the base too, you even searched each of their room, which still lacked their figures. Furrowing your brows, you decided to go back to your room, maybe you could give them tomorrow. What you didn’t expect was when you opened the door of your room, you were welcomed by Soap and Gaz’s exciting voice. “Happy birthday!” “Jesus… I was searching for all of you…” Your eyes rounded “Wait… It’s my birthday today?” “Don’t tell me ye didn’ remember!” Soap, who standing closest to you and with a birthday cake, shoved you playfully with his elbow. “I…” You glanced at the calendar hanging on your wall, unable to form words when you realized it really was your birthday today. “Come take a seat, love.” Price’s words help you fill the silence. You slowly closed the door behind you, and your gaze traveled from the elegant cake, the flames dancing on the candle, to your teammates — the people you trusted with your life. “A cake makes you stupid, sergeant?” You heard Ghost chuckle at your reaction, but you didn’t glower at him this time, because you felt tears welled up in your eyes, uncontrollably. “Oh no, lovie’s going ta cry!” Gaz joked at you while he led you to your seat. You blinked away tears before they could escape, and smack at Gaz’s bicep. “Shut up, Garrick.” The laughs and jokes filled your little room with joy, you sat there listening to Gaz and Soap banter with Ghost about how he was so selective about the cake so they could give you the best one, and as Ghost retorted back, a plate was handed to you. The biggest slice among others, full of whipped cream and fruits decorating it. You picked up the fork and started eating, the sweetness spread inside your mouth, with the fruit neutralizing it and taking the taste to a whole other level. “Ye always smile when ye eatin’ cakes, you know? really like cakes don’t ye?” You raised your head from the plate, and finding everyone looking at you, with such softness you questioned yourself if you were able to reciprocate, and you touched your cheeks, you could feel the corner of your lips curling upwards. but this time, you deepened your grin, warm and fascinating, before you picked up your fork again. “Maybe I do.”

[merakiui]

Azul who enchants a pussy pocket since it's mating season and he's too shy and nervous to ask reader. So he stuffs the reader with his eggs using the pussy pocket.

I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense, had a bit of trouble organizing my thoughts lol

This is the ideal solution to so many of Azul’s problems. He doesn’t have to show you his mer form, nor does he have to look biologically and emotionally vulnerable in front of you when he’s caught up in mating season heats. And he can also pump you full of eggs without having to actually look at you. He’s much more confident when he’s alone. One day he’ll gain the courage to show you his true form and one day another mating season will roll around in which he’ll finally take you into his arms and fuck you without the distance separating you or the help from the magical pussy pocket.

But for now, baby steps. He’ll make progress with you one day, but for now he’ll do it from the shadows.

Maybe you’re sleeping or maybe you’re in public or maybe you’re even working your shift at the lounge. No matter where you are and what you’re doing, the moment you feel fingers thrust up inside your pussy to stretch it in preparation for something, you nearly double over, curl into yourself, crumple… it’s a sensation that takes you by surprise, leaving you gasping and grasping for something to squeeze or hold so you can properly brace yourself and figure out what’s going on.

Maybe you try to ignore it, assuming it’s just a passing feeling. But then it persists and you’re quickly falling apart, sweating so much, chewing your lip bloody to keep any salacious sounds from slipping out. If you thought the fingers were unbearable, it’s when they’re removed and the tapered tip of something pokes at your hole that you begin to realize this is far from any fleeting feeling.

Azul’s so desperate in his pool, far past the point of keeping his composure, and he’s impatient to release his clutch. So he’s a little rough when he thrusts his hectocotylus so deeply, not entirely thinking of whether or not you can truly take so much of it. But he does imagine your expression, how you’d sound, what you might say, and even the little tummy bulge as it presses up against areas a normal human cock could never hope to reach. And it’s so tight and warm and wet inside you; he’s a mess, his pace hasty and determined. He doesn’t have the foresight to pretend like he isn’t affected; he’s a moaning mess under the water as he ruts into you, the tentacle thrust so far that it kisses your cervix. <3

There’s no time beneath the water. Not that it’s important at this moment. Not truly. Azul’s so focused on base desires, brought down to such a primal level by his own biological imperative, and so maybe it’s been hours of fucking or maybe it’s only been minutes. But eventually, finally, he’s filled you with enough slick to keep the eggs safe and sound. He’s flustered about the idea, about seeing you so round and full of him the next time he crosses paths with you. Maybe you’ve already guessed he’s responsible. Or maybe you have no idea, too confused and pleasured to think that far ahead.

He doesn’t count the eggs as they’re deposited in the depths of your womb. Rather, he just fucks, mindless and instinctual, until every last one has made its home inside you. It’s not an absurd amount—although by human standards it would surely be—but it’s just enough for now. In the future, he’ll turn you into a mer, keep you in the Coral Sea, and give you a larger clutch when he knows your body can handle it.

Azul could have painted you a dozen ways in his brilliant mind, but no amount of fantasy could prepare him for just how pretty you look when the twins guide you into his VIP room and you’ve just managed to squeeze yourself into a uniform, so round already. He has bad news for you; you’ll only get bigger as the eggs grow and the fry within mature. Hungrier, too. And moodier. And more hormonal. Mers fuck a lot when they’re pregnant. And when it comes time to lay, necessary preparations will need to be made… there’s so much to look forward to. So much planning. But he’s immensely happy, and he tries not to let it show while you, flustered and teary-eyed, try to explain your predicament while the twins leer.

Maybe you don’t need to know yet. For now, he’s just pleased to have overcome this mating season. And he has a family to look forward to, hoping most of them survive hatching, that is. But for now he’s happy. And you will be, too. Eventually.

[lunajay33]

Change Part.4

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning

I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking

I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him

“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back

I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising

“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed

He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered

“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom

“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door

I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist

“I’m here for you Daryl, always”

He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes

“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up

“Thanks”

“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room

“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed

As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up

“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers

“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet

I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly

“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact

“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us

“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”

“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be

“We can……….we will”

•12 Years Later🩷

“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’

Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing

“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago

“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee

“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked

As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself

•Flashback

“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move

“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves

“Baby?”

“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”

•

We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump

Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better

I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me

“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window

I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others

“What the hell”

Part.5

Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken

[catboydogma]

give the world away/wake up lonely

codywan week 2024 sol master list (solsterlist)

codywan week 2024 day 3 prompts, sol edition: soulmate au, after the war

notes: this is riffing off the quinlan/fox soulmates au i did a while back. if you haven't read that one, you don't have to; the gist of it is that soulmates can't lie to each other. for our resident guys who love lying above any other favored pastime or hobby, this presents a Number of Problems. canon timelines? there is no canon timeline here. tcw is my sandbox and baby i have started cultivating a bed of beautiful plants native to arid regions. title from crowd surf off a cliff by emily haines & the soft skeleton.

wc: 2,206

cross-posted to ao3

This was, admittedly, a somewhat inauspicious first meeting. Obi-Wan had been shipped back to Coruscant post-capture by Ventress for surgery and a recovery time that was cut much too short by politics, of all things. Entirely miffed by this shitshow, Obi-Wan had made his complaints clear to the Council. And Bail. And Padmé. And the beleaguered young Healer they’d had attending him. Yes, he might often leave medical before his sentence was up, but that was on his terms. To have his affairs arranged by some perfect stranger instead, in the name of the war effort? Oh, the utter fucking gall of these people.

Alpha-17 was recovering on Kamino, at least. Obi-Wan had gotten away light, relatively speaking. He’d said as much to Vokara Che, and she’d made the most fascinating expression at him.

In his absence, the 212th had been headed by some interim Admiral of the Navy and the new Commander. They were already engaged clear across the Rim, and so Obi-Wan was shipped back out in another transport with a contingent of transfers rotating out from the Coruscant Guard. By the time they dropped out of hyperspace at the back end of the venator, the battle was over and cleanup had commenced.

Obi-Wan was sore, he wanted a proper shower with the desperation of an alcoholic approaching the three-month mark, and to top it all off, his trick knee was acting up again from all the time spent sitting around in the transport. Obi-Wan was not the sort to take advantage of his position either as a High General or a Jedi Master, but really, couldn’t they have given him a transport bigger than a bloody Pathfinder?

Bag slung over one shoulder, Obi-Wan located his—allegedly temporary—cane and tried his best not to limp too visibly. The hangar of the venator was busy with white- and gold-painted troopers, only a few in dress greys cutting back and forth through the bustle. Whoever was running this operation, they were doing it well; even with the distraction Obi-Wan and his entourage presented, few troopers were distracted from their own tasks.

“At ease,” Obi-Wan said, after he’d saluted the squad of troopers waiting to greet him. The Command Corps, with only a handful of familiar signatures. The casualty rate directly after Obi-Wan and Alpha-17’s capture had… suffered. “I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Commander Fox sends his regards.” He’d said something quite a bit more rude, but Obi-Wan wasn’t about to repeat that to a perfect stranger, brothers they may be.

“Clone Marshal Commander 2224,” his Commander replied. Alpha-17 referred to this one as Cody in their little catch-up holocall before Obi-Wan had been deployed again. He’d followed it up with “that little shit” and other things at once less complimentary and more affectionate. Obi-Wan, after taking a few days to parse through the backhanded compliments and veiled praise that Alpha-17 liked to communicate in, had taken this to mean that his new Commander was highly skilled, exceedingly competent, and smarter than all the Navy personnel aux staff. Combined. That, and he had a sense of humor imparted to him directly by Alpha-17.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Obi-Wan said, shaking the Commander’s hand in a firm grip. Professional. Brief. He opened his mouth again to say something about how he looked forward to working with the 212th and a great many more successful engagements, and the words stopped up his throat. Obi-Wan discreetly cleared his throat and—

“Oh, no,” Obi-Wan said instead, an entirely honest display of dismay breaking out. No, no, no, no, this could not be happening.

The Commander’s hand tightened on his. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“What’s your name, if I may, Commander?” Obi-Wan asked, belatedly releasing his hand.

A static fuzz split the air as the Commander stuttered on—something. His serial, Obi-Wan suspected. Which… would have been a lie, if the Commander did not truly consider his serial to be his name.

“Heck,” the Commander said. He pulled his helmet off and flipped it over to tuck under an arm in one smooth motion, mouth slightly agape as he stared at Obi-Wan.

He was a handsome man, his Commander. Very handsome. In the back of his head, Obi-Wan thought he might be hearing howling laughter that sounded a bit too much like Alpha-17.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan said. “Ah… I suppose we’re due for a walk-around. But, after, perhaps, if you might… show me to my quarters, and we can have a, ah… more informal debriefing?” Force, but he hadn’t stuttered like this since Qui-Gon had tried to guilt him into taking care of one of his notoriously finicky bonsais.

His Commander was silent for a moment. Testing the bounds of their new… constraints, Obi-Wan suspected. Finally, he said: “I’d like that.”

…two years later, after the war:

“That Sith is lucky he’s already dead,” Cody snarled up at the ceiling.

Obi-Wan patted Cody’s hand and tried to suppress the feeling that he was about to be an accessory to a hideously violent crime. “How’s your nausea, then? Manageable?”

Cody snarled something incoherent. Perhaps he’d tried for a “fine” or even a bold “utterly negligible.” Obi-Wan was not the most empathic Jedi, instead sitting—like many things in his life—at a comfortably average level of Force empathy. Yet even he could feel the waves of sick vertigo and queasiness washing over Cody every few minutes. After a moment of muttering and another moment of grimly, doggedly swallowing as another wave of nausea broke over him, Cody gave Obi-Wan a baleful, sweaty glare. “Stop asking me questions.”

“My brave Commander,” Obi-Wan said, digging his thumbs into the base of Cody’s thumb and the joint of his wrist.

The medics had concocted two different ways to disable the inhibitor chips that Lieutenant Fives had uncovered—surgery or injection. The series of vaccines was a clever combination of medical nanotechnology originally developed to fight against deep-rooted viral infections and a biotechnological approach to ensure that the body’s systems were able to quickly and safely break down the chip from the inside, piggybacking off local immune response.

Their results could not be denied. Both approaches were as safe as they could be, with an astonishingly low mortality or mishap rate. The immune response, however, was… somewhat vicious. Obi-Wan had been able to glean that Cody was getting off relatively light; he’d just the muscle aches and nausea, but no fever, and he had yet to actually vomit anything up. Whether that was due to his body having a good response, or Cody’s own iron self-discipline… well, who was really to say.

“Can’t imagine the company’s all that right now,” Cody muttered. His jaw worked furiously and he leaned his head back against the pillows of his medical cot.

Obi-Wan hummed and worked his way up Cody’s forearm, measuring his pulse with two fingers pressed into the soft inside of Cody’s elbow. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, right now. Until you tell me to fuck off, I shall continue to remain right here.”

“Fuck—nhgghk—fuck… you,” Cody hissed.

Ah, Obi-Wan’s love was such a romantic. He only felt a little bad about trapping Cody in a proverbial corner, but if Cody truly wanted him to leave, then he could say so. Until then… well. It wasn’t like Cody could lie to him. Obi-Wan tried not to look quite so smug, but with Cody’s hand spasming on his arm like he was imagining strangling Obi-Wan, perhaps he wasn’t as successful as he’d thought.

“Only twelve more hours,” Obi-Wan said, soothing. He smoothed a hand up Cody’s bicep and started in on his shoulders, finding knots of tension and digging in deep to ease them out. With the persistent muscle aches, these knots would likely be back in a matter of hours, if that. But if Obi-Wan could do something to help Cody, as small as it could be, he was going to do it.

“You should go,” Cody rasped, eyes closed and brow furrowed. His shoulder spasmed under Obi-Wan’s hand, sweat-slick skin and hard muscle shifting painfully.

Hm. Well. That hadn’t been what Obi-Wan had planned. He pressed the back of his hand to Cody’s forehead. No fever; the sweats and shakes, a little warm from lying in bed, but nothing concerning. Fighting to keep his voice neutral, Obi-Wan asked, “And do you want me to go?”

Cody gritted his teeth, lips peeling back in a snarl. He started and stopped in the middle of half a dozen words. “It doesn’t matter what I want. You should leave.”

Obi-Wan’s heart seized in his chest, something toothier than grief coming to settle behind his breastbone. Sometimes the inability to lie to one’s soulmate was a blessing, if a complicated one. Sometimes… sometimes it meant that when Cody said such a thing, Obi-Wan knew to his bones that Cody truly believed it. “Yes, it matters very much what you want,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even but not gentle. Cody so hated to be “coddled,” in his words. Obi-Wan, who could tease out the truth, knew that Cody didn’t necessarily want to be treated gently or handled with care—he simply wanted to be treated like he was precious. Like he meant something to someone.

“And,” Obi-Wan continued, when it seemed like no more was forthcoming from Cody and he was no longer fighting to keep the wobble out of his own voice, “unless and until you say ‘Obi-Wan, my precious love, papple of my eye and light of my galaxy, I want you to leave me alone,’ I shall be remaining by your side.”

Cody’s face screwed up. It looked terrifyingly like he might cry. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he would do if Cody started crying, other than start sobbing alongside him.

“What if the chip activates?” Cody finally bit out, sounding like the words had been carved out of him. “I read the brief on Fray’s procedure. And Longshot’s. And—and I could. I might—you don’t—want to see me. Like this. I—” Cody heaved for breath, eyes gone glassy and the sinews of his throat standing in high relief with tension. “—I can’t. If something happens, I can’t. If the chip activates and I—lose myself—it’s.” Cody cursed, as vile as anything Obi-Wan had ever heard him use.

Obi-Wan firmly laced his fingers between Cody’s and checked his vambrace with his free hand. It must be terrifying to know that you might kill those you held most dear. But the chips didn’t activate with a specific order—Fray’s had activated on Order 37: mass arrest and execute the local civilian population to capture a wanted individual. The poor trooper had almost killed a pair of orderlies with his own bootlaces. Longshot’s had… well. They were yet lucky to still have the trooper with them, but he would have to be carefully monitored in the next few weeks to make sure he didn’t suffer clotting in the vessels of his neck or a stroke. But with a full one hundred and fifty orders, the chance that Cody’s would activate in the first place was slim, let alone land on the one that would have him trying to kill Obi-Wan.

And yet… this wasn’t a scenario where likelihoods and statistics would help. Obi-Wan squeezed Cody’s hand, then showed him the screen embedded into his vambrace. A med droid had sent him an update on the progress of Cody’s procedure, showing a near-incomprehensible feed of the nanites as they disabled what remained of Cody’s chip.

“You’re well past the threshold for the chip activating successfully,” Obi-Wan told him. “And I always want to see you, Cody. I especially want to be here while you’re fighting through this. You won’t lose yourself. You’re already past the worst of it. I know you can hang on for a little while longer, and there’s no part of you that I would turn away from.” He raised Cody’s hand to kiss the back of it, lips pressed carefully to Cody’s scarred and calloused knuckles. “There is no part of you that could make me turn away.” He would repeat it as many times as Cody would let him.

“I don’t want to wake up someone different,” Cody rasped. But he didn’t pull away from Obi-Wan, and he let Obi-Wan smooth a hand over his curls and press a kiss to the space between his brows.

“I’ll keep an eye on the chip,” Obi-Wan promised. With a rueful smile, chest still aching, he echoed Cody’s own oft-repeated line back at him: “When have I ever let you down?”

“Never,” Cody murmured, face tightening as one—or perhaps several—of his muscles spasmed and locked up. He looked exhausted, riding the line between unconsciousness and apprehension.

“Just so. You’ll be alright,” Obi-Wan promised. “And I’ll be here.”

With that, Cody finally let himself slip into sleep, mind partially quieting. The fear was still there, as well as a biting edge of self-recrimination and dread-heavy resignation. Obi-Wan kept a bit of his awareness on the chip through the Force, monitoring it carefully. They would get through this safe and whole, and Obi-Wan would not suffer any other option.

[hades-in-bloom]

Bitten Lips

a/n: happy Astarion brainrot—two silly blurbs for both Tav (#1, w/ Spawn A) and The Dark Urge (#2, w/ Ascended A) using the same keywords (see the title; like, also don’t ask how and why, pretty please). Summaries and additional warnings per blurb below. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

spoilers for Act 3

warnings & contents [for both]: depictions of self-harm (non-suicidal); mentions of blood; the reader could be any gender; Tav/Durge could be any race or class; age gap (hard not to with a 200-years-old vampire); could’ve been a headcanon

[1] : lucky one

Spawn!Astarion Ancunin x Tav!Reader

summary [1]: Tav is nervous, and somehow it makes Astarion climb a wall.

+warnings & contents [1]: unadulterated comfort with a pinch of anxiety; silly bad habits driving Astarion insane; cheeky Tav

soundtrack [1]: måneskin — honey (are you coming?)

***

Astarion snaps when you bring wandering fingers to the bottom of your face again.

“Stop it,” the elf demands, mouth pressed into a thin line as he attempts to keep his frustration in check. You wince slightly, picking a string of dry skin from your wounded lips once more without realising the gravity of your actions.

“Sweet hells,” Astarion grumbles. “Why would you do it? It’s disgusting.” A bizarre mix of annoyance and worry is almost palpable in his well articulated voice. He’s seen worse sights, but you hurt yourself—that’s what he finds appalling.

As thin blood gushes out of a fresh rip on your lip, unadulterated guilt floods your essence instantly. You feel your cheeks heat up, and anxiety crooks your fingers, while you finally realize how sore your lips are since you kept violating them repeatedly in the past half an hour, agitated and a little bit overwhelmed. A prospective of turning into a mindflayer with no lips whatsoever soon down the line would make anyone nervous after all.

Astarion gives you a long stare, so you look away and mumble, “I’m sorry.” To be honest, you didn’t expect him to pick up on your silly bad habit; no one ever pays that much attention to it—there are always bigger problems to tend—but somehow he does notice.

Your tongue runs across your bottom lip, and you taste metal.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” The vampire frowns, his voice rising an octave. He frets, however hides the feelings behind a playful facade everyone’s been so used to. “Otherwise you’re ruining that pretty face of yours for no reason.”

He asks difficult questions, so you huff, unsure of what you’re supposed to say. You’ve never been great at talking about your feelings, bottling up your emotions deep down instead, where no one would ever think of rummaging.

“You didn’t expect me to always be a damned ray of sunshine, did you?” You revert your gaze to him reluctantly.

To be fair, usually you’ve smiled inappropriately often. If there were any expectations in this regard among the party members, you are the one to blame for it.

“Gods, no. Also, too much sun is bad for my health, so...” Astarion shrugs off your cynicism without a second thought. “You do you, lover.”

The pale elf’s stare lingers on you way too long for your liking, mildly unfounded uneasiness growing inside you. You want him to drop it; you want him not to care, when you don’t have answers for him. Of course, it’s too much to ask. You lose your patience at once, rolling your eyes in defeat.

“You won’t let it go,” you acknowledge, and his lips curl into a faint smile in response.

“I will if you stop doing that,” the pale elf retorts with a hint of desperate outrage as your finger innocently slides over your sore lip unwittingly, probing before the next torture.

You turn your obsession into advantage, and there’s a mischievous spark in your eyes. “I won’t be able to stop by myself.”

He catches up almost instantaneously, with his gaze fixated on your bloody, tortured lips now for all the wrong (or right?) reasons.

Astarion eliminates the distance between you two with a shameless smirk forming on his face—the smirk you knew quite well.

“Darling, aren’t you lucky,” his voice sings, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your bodies close, leaning forward meaningfully. “I might just be willing to help you out.”

[2] : broken one

Ascended!Astarion Ancunin x Consort!Dark Urge!Reader

summary [2]: Astarion’s partner falls a victim of their dark urges once again.

+warnings & contents [2]: Durge is durging; mentions of murder; mild descriptions of death; unhinged kisses; implied power struggle?

soundtrack [2]: bella poarch — villain and dutch melrose — runrunrun

***

Tonight the palace giggles in your voice, and It can only mean one thing. Astarion hears what you did well before he steps into the bedroom, blood champing under the sole of his exquisitely made shoe. Right there, in the epicentre of massacre, your figure is hunched over maid’s body, now lifeless. Her head hangs limply from your lap, while your twitching fingers are sorting through strands of gore stained hair.

Astarion takes stock of the committed atrocity for one moment before he begins to approach. “What a mess,” he sighs, slightly wrinkling delicate features in annoyance, making his verdict. “Why, little love—this one is particularly sloppy.”

You have not come to senses yet to argue; there is a dreamy, unsettling smile on your face as you glance at your beloved glassy-eyed. Astarion smiles tenderly in return, his fingers gripping your chin to lift your head.

“Poor thing,” the man cooes a tad condescendingly, seizing the moment, when you are incapable of biting back.

Animalistic grunt escapes your throat, and you snarl, but the vampire lord holds you in place tightly. He covers your bleeding, bitten in heat of the urge lips with his own, fangs dragging over your sore skin, making you gasp, almost weep instead.

At other times headstrong and fierce, able to fight back against his caring tyranny, at this point you are exhausted. You cling to his embellished doublet with the last of your strength, pleading, surrendering yourself at his mercy.

“My lovely consort,” Astarion mutters with affection, satisfied with your obedience to the point of one’s disgust.

The pale elf kicks back maidservant’s body with his foot and picks you up in his arms, holding tight to his chest as he carries you to your shared bed. You can feel the urge leaving your body, taking your consciousness away with it.

“It’s going to be over soon, my love.” Astarion whispers soothingly, although you can’t hear him anymore. “It’s going to be over soon.”

[moldybonessmell]

// TUA season 4 SPOILERS

This season was absolutely horrendous, not gonna lie.

My scientific diagram regarding something that used to be my favorite show:

There's absolutely nothing I like about new season.

Now, more specifically, things I hate:

Klaus being traumatized for no reason and having no character development for 2 seasons straight (see rant).

Ben preaching eternal love and hooking up with a girl he met like a day ago while people around puke venom cum😃.

Right away, adding the "comedic gore" which is a sin for so many recent shows and TUA went the same annoying and overplayed route. Bloody scenes were cool when it was Five killing people with an iconic background music and stuff, but not the gore for the gore's sake.

By the way, music game is so weak this season, they literally took out the best part of the show that has become its trademark, what are creators doing???

Storyline with Diego thinking Lila is cheating and them being drowned in family life would have worked if it was in a different show, but it's TUA and it's boring as hell, sorry. (Maybe dont get like 3 kids if it's so difficult??? idk man)

Luther is stripper? Seriously? Completely unprovoked. Made for comedic sake once again, and I don't respect that. They didn't know what to do with his character and made him into comic relief, how unexpected /sarcasm.

Tension between Lila and Five, really? You took the best platonic dinamic, them actually being sibling-coded, and made it into romance? I have zero respect left. I do not care it was 6 years for them, I truly don't give a fuck. I cringed so hard. I just wanted to turn it off completely. Episode 5 is VILE, especially RIGHT AFTER Diego recognising family is more important than work. These scenes being one after other is diabolical. Also, Five hiding "the way home" for 5 months?? OOC as hell, if you ask me. You know what even more OOC and dumb? Five fighting Diego over Lila when The Cleanse is the bigger problem at the moment. (How did Five even end up on the floor, he's like the best killer in timeline??)

" - Why did I wait to take the shot.. - Maybe because you're a good man after all." No the fuck he's not. Reginald Hargreaves is not a good man. In neither timelines. The way the show tries to make him a gray character and make us like him is cringe as hell, just stop.

When I found out last season is only 6 episodes long I was upset, but at the time I finished episode 4 I just couldn't wait till the season is over.

(I had to finish it tho, for a slight possibility it's gonna get better and my rant posts to be relevant you know).

Honestly, I'm just glad it's over. The less seasons the less possibilities for the show to get even worse.

"I think we're alone now" as a closing song was a good choice tho.

Edit: I haven't checked the tags before posting and can't believe like 20 people have already used the horse meme before me guess we all thought the same bruh

[littlelightbolt]

Finding Prowl- Merformers AU

Chapter 3 - A captive individual

So here's the last of the chapters I have ready written, I kinda write in a bullet point style cause I don't think my brain is at the capacity at the moment to come back and make them actual well written chapters. Enjoy tho. - Ideas still welcome. I'm kinda stuck on what other problems the character will be facing with life in the aquarium.

Life down in this hell hole has been a constant blood pressure raising experience for Prowl.

Not counting his transportation after being caught, he has calculated that it has been 32 cycles since his kidnapping from the Autobot pod after a bloody dispute with Optimus. Not even Jazz had tried to stop him when he stormed off.

The capture had been unpredictable. Never in his mind would it have occured to him that pirates had breached the secret coves wall.

His pod could be in danger and he couldn't even there to warn them. Even if the probabilities were low, he could only hope that no one else had been captured. The cove was a protected space. It would be detrimental to their way of life if humans were to discover them.

He fought every step of the transport process. Stuck alone in a tiny space with a foreign language echoing through as his music. Bruised and battered he arrived to a rather large facility. Bright colours were everywhere it was dizzying. After being poked and prodded, he was placed in an isolation pool. The empty walls smelt of distress and dead fish. He simmered deeply ashamed to have been outsmarted by a bunch of land dwellers. He graced his tank by thrashing aggressively sending big waves that splashed the humans who shrieked in displeasure recoiling from the edge of his pool. Despite the brief victory, he was soon swarmed by the lot of them.

Over the next few days, he learned quickly that attacking the staff was a futile effort. Where one fell another took their place. He always got drugged and worked with an awful headache there after. Now, he has reserved to take a smarter approach, observing all he could in hopes of plotting an escape someday.

Eventually the humans deemed him healthy enough to be transferred to a bigger pool. To his surprise, this one had furnishings of actual kelp and rocks. One of the walls had an ominous grate that connected to parts unknown. Prowl steered clear of that for now. There was a small alcove at the bottom to hide in, barely big enough to stretch out fully in. A small school of fish were in here with him while star fish rested on the glass wall looking outwards.

His first glimpse in what would be his new home was less that flattering. Beyond his tank there were many others just like his with pairs of mers or solo ones as he was. They too seemed to notice the new comers presence and we're checking him out too.

Prowl's skin curled at the thought of having little to no privacy.

Below to tank groups of humans were looking up at him. Most of them wore bright colours and expensive suits. The walkways reminded Prowl of the big loud yachts he would see from time to time back home. It disgusted him to be downgraded to an item to be observed.

Everyday it's just the same four walls and the humans outside. His neighbours loud and the humans louder still. He did his best to get through each day though and memorise the routines of the humans that took care of him.

Sometimes mers from the tanks around him were cartes off and returned again, sometimes they just never did. It was always the prettier mers, the ones who showed interest in the humans down below. Prowl deducts that being carted off is very bad and strives to be as antisocial as he can with the humans. He fears for the day his turn comes.

So far, escape is still far away. It was only in the night cycles where most mers were asleep that he could have a quiet reprieve from the over-stimulating environment, where the constant vigilance tore down on him.

It is there that the waves of loneliness would wash over him completely, pulling him under some nights. He would never admit that he laments that no one will come to save him. To get away from it all, what used to be a private pass time now became a self soothing hobby. He sang. Tuneless little melodies to songs he remembered from mainly Jazz.

His songs on those nights were considered some of the most hauntingly beautiful in the aquarium to the skeleton crew humans who worked the night shift. Only amplified when the humpback mer several tanks down that sang to and with him occasionally. They formed a sort of musical comradery.

It was the 55 day cycle here at the facility. The day cycle was stagnant and Prowl was well and truly bored. He swam a few laps around the tank and cleaned up his little burrow but aside from that there was nothing to do. Prowl cursed the humans cleverness, exploiting the mers need for being busy to entertain the crowds outside.

Prowl firmly pushed down the urge to look back at the glass knowing that doing so won't do him any favours. And so he laps, chasing the fish and rearranging the star fish.

The sounds coming from the glass were getting louder today. Way louder than usual. Curiosity getting the better of him, Prowl glanced towards the screen. A large crowd has gathered at his viewing window. Apprehension takes him, he never had so many humans stay in front of his enclosure.

A tiny hint of fear sinks in. Is he being carted off. A human dress in a workers uniform was in front of the crowd talking into a microphone echoing the words into the water "-and today we will be introducing this sweet little baby to what will hopefully be their loving surrogate parent!" Prowl had picked up a few words during his captivity but most of the sentence was beyond him.

The announcer finished with a flourish and the crowd clapped and cheered. The sound of something breaching the surface caught Prowl's awareness. A large box was being lowered into the tank. Prowl fear turned to dread when he saw the little body within it. The faint smell of distress and sick was coming off of them.

Knowing the humans, he kept a fair distance away from the box until it was fully lowered to the bottom of the tank. When the ropes had fully detached he made he way towards the box. At least the sick bastards didn't lock the little one in there. They could have drowned if they did.

Prowl was honestly a bit out of his depth in talking to young kids. The autobot pod didn't have any, the youngest was probably hot rod and they had found him when he was already a teen. Figuring the best way to gather their atte tion was to talk Prowl gently called out to the little form that laid there. The poor thing curled tight in fear slowly unfurled seemingly seeming him approable.

Prowl reached out to touch him, but being unsure of how to start allowed the baby to initiate first contact. Now up close, Prowl was thankful that no visible bruises were seen on the baby. But, it did to his eyes look slightly tired and flushed. Must have been the panic of being moved here taking its toll. They looked old enough to start talking but the little one was silent.

When the baby grasped his finger, Prowl was glad the terror twins weren't there to see him freeze. The world grew smaller until it was just the too of them, a wave of warm emotions unfurled in Prow 's cold heart. If only for a nano click. Another small hand was roaming his chest, pawing at his skin funnily enough it was slightly tickling the adult amusing him.

Wanting to assess the baby further, Prowl brought the little hands to his face scenting them, the baby was slightly malnourished and smelt of burnt sour milk due to the fever raging. They were sicker than he thought and it worried him.

It was then the crowd outside returned him to reality. The loud shouts and cheering shatter their small moment. The baby frightened once again.

Prowl made quick work of the latches. Opening the box and reaching inside for the baby. They were leaving, he was fed up of the unwelcome eyes on them. The baby latched on and curled around his chest rather snuggly, he could feel that they were burning up.

With a few powerful whips of his tail, he breached the surface of the tank allow the little one to breathe. Before diving back down into his little cove to his. It barely fit the too of them.

Kelp was a common herb in the sea incorporated into almost any dish the autobot pod cooked or made. Prowl remembered ratchet giving a lecture to the twin about eating their veggies. That it was also a great staple in medicine for simple illness like fevers. Thinking fast, Prowl slipped out of the cover and grabbed some kelp to use it as medicine for the little one. The humans watched him in fascination but he hardly cared for them. Arriving back to the shivering baby, he chewed up some kelp in his mouth making sure it was turned to paste before spitting it out and feeding it to the little one.

He fed them 3 mouthfuls of kelp before the little one showed signs of being full and drowsy.

The baby nuzzled into his form looking up at him once bleary before laying down to sleep.

Not wanting to awake the little one, Prowl got comfortable for the long unmoving wait of nap time. While the baby slept, Prowl's mind whirled. Well, he definitely wasn't bored now.

'where were their mother, pod? what happened to them, how long had the baby been alone for can they actually speak' many other questions swarmed his mind.

Most of all, his escape plan now had an additional variable. If he were to escape he would be bringing the baby with him. He could only pray to a god he didn't quite believe in: primus to be so merciful to them.

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Previous

Next

[spideyzgirl]

hii! I don't know if you have requests still open, if you don't just ignore this <3 how about a fic where reader is the one with powers and her and Peter are together & he works as a nurse maybe or not, and he always patches her up when she's super hurt? Peter gets a call from reader that she needs help and he goes to her? or she comes to him? just really fluffy and angsty? again if you're not taking requests just ignore this. have a lovely day/night <3

doctor doctor, give me the news

A/N: so sorry this took me so long to write! i also changed it to doctor instead of nurse if that’s okay :)

warnings: mentions of blood, angst, fluff

pairing: doctor!peter x avenger!reader

wc: 1508

note: assume the reader got bit by the spider instead

masterlist | taglist

the fast pace and constant demands of the hospital often left peter with little free time for himself. on the rare occasion that he found himself with some down time at the office, he scrolled through the endless amount of notifications that he missed on his phone.

his eyebrows knit together when he finds the series of missed calls from you. he dialed you back, the concern only growing as he listened to ring after ring. his mind raced with possibilities of what could be wrong. you finally picked up, he let out a sigh of relief. “baby, you okay? i’m sorry i missed your calls, what’s going on?”

there was a brief silence on the other end before you spoke in a weak voice, “it’s nothing major, just wanted to let you know i’m...” you trailed off, muttering curses to yourself when you accidentally pressed the gash on your stomach. “i’m bringing you chinese! can’t imagine how hungry you are right now, hm?”

“that didn’t sound good. what’s going on?” peter bounced his leg anxiously.

“nothing, it’s just been one of those nights. i’m sore from dodging bullets.” you sigh.

“oh yeah, you stopped that bank robbery over in brooklyn, didn’t you?”

“uh huh. and i helped an old lady cross the street! i think that was the highlight of my night.” the more you spoke, the more winded you felt. you gasped when you found that your hand was coated in blood now.

“that’s great honey, but you sound like you’re about to pass out. why don’t you hurry on over? i don’t like the idea of you walking around by yourself, avenger or not.”

once you ended the call with peter, you released a pained moan you’d been holding through your entire conversation.

a stab to the stomach was no joke. you knew if peter were here right now, he’d tell you to keep pressure on it until you could get proper care. but there was almost no use for that anymore, you could still feel the blood seeping out.

every step you took sent a jolt of shooting pain up your side, and it was getting harder to catch your breath. you knew if you didn’t get to peter soon, you’d have bigger problems than a gash.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“hey,” you breathe out, leaning against the door frame of his office. “before you ask, no i didn’t get you chopsticks. i’m tired of you claiming you know how to use them, and then tell me they’re broken when you have trouble with them.”

“they are broken. why do you think i can’t use them…” he trailed off when he noticed your teeth sinking into your lip. your eyes looked weak as well, and your forehead was damp with sweat. “either you’re severely constipated, or you had a rough night out there.” he smiled sympathetically.

“no, just severely stabbed. check it out.” you stumbled into the room and set the food on his desk before you slowly uncovered the wound, showing off the bloody mess.

“oh my god.” peter gasped. “you never told me you got stabbed!” he bent down to get a better view of the gash. as he examined your wound, his mind raced. he had seen his fair share of injuries in his line of work, but he felt a more extreme amount of concern for you.

“remember when i told you i helped that old lady cross the street? well, she actually thought i was trying to rob her, so she stabbed me and took off across the street and honestly? good for her. you never know who’s out to get you on these streets.”

“you didn’t think to lead off with that? ‘hey babe, i got stabbed and i’m damn near bleeding to death’ just happened to slip your mind?” he fussed. peter quickly got you situated on the patient bed and rolled on some gloves. he cautiously removed the top half of your suit, mindful of the pain you were experiencing.

“i thought if i bought you food it’d lessen the blow. i guess i forgot to mention i got stabbed.” you winced as he began to clean your wound, the pain was almost nauseating. his heart sunk at your desperate fight to keep your eyes open.

“you’re alright, you’re gonna be just fine. i just need to stop the blood. i just know you’ve lost a lot.” he muttered, more to himself than you.

“oh. that can be bad.” you responded anyway.

“can be? it is bad. how are you not taking this seriously? your life might not be a big deal to you, but it’s a pretty big one to me.”

“i still see this as a win. she crossed the street faster than she would’ve if i wasn’t there. really, you should seen those little legs take off-“

“would you shut up? i don’t see this as a win at all. you could’ve died tonight. my girlfriend, the woman i love, nearly escaped death tonight, and you just think it’s a big game.” he scoffed, shaking his head as threw away blood-drenched gauze.

“hey, cut me some slack. when i’m out there, saving lives is my priority. i can’t save people and myself at the same time. it’s either i save them or die trying.” you defended, squeezing his shoulder when he wipes a little harshly.

peters anger falters when you do this, and he turns his head to kiss your fingers as an apology. he sighs but continues to dress your wounds.

“i know, i’m sorry. i don’t mean to tell you how to do your job but… this is happening way too often now. every other day you’re coming in here with something broken or bleeding, and you just don’t care. i know you’ve got abilities, but what happens when someday, someone gets the jump on you and you can’t protect yourself?”

“then i’ll have my sexy doctor patch me up.” you wink at him.

“sure,” peter nods his head. “and what happens when i can’t get to you? what happens then?” his voice was gentle, but firm enough to make your smile fade and tear your gaze away from his intense one. “do you know what it does to me when i see you like this? i mean, i’ve seen a lot of injuries as a doctor, but when it’s you i have to see hurt like this… it’s something entirely different.”

you were quiet as he finished cleaning you up. you didn’t realize how much this affected peter. if he knew the truth, he’d know that every time you’re out there, you fear that every night could be your last.

“sometimes i don’t have time to care, pete. as long as i get the job done, i don’t really care what happens to me. take tonight for example. did that old lady stab the shit out of me? yes, but she also crossed the street successfully. its always a job well done if people walk out safe, even if that doesn’t include me. you can understand that, right? our jobs are almost similar in that way.”

“yeah, i feel you on that,” he gently pushes his way further between your legs, his hands caressing your thighs soothingly. “but still, if you’re dead, you can’t really save them, can you?”

you nod in agreement, fully understanding where he was coming from.

“just please try to be a little more careful? what am i gonna do without my little web-weaver?” he smirks playfully.

“oh, is that what you’re calling me now? what happened to web slinger and web-head? or, my personal favorite, webs?”

he chuckles, lightly pressing his nose against yours. “promise me you’ll be more careful. i’m serious.”

“i promise i will. but i really wasn’t expecting that lady to stab me. it’s not like i was throwing myself in harms way there.” you shrug.

he cups your cheek, caressing it softly before pulling you in for a gentle kiss. you hum into the kiss, and laughed when his free hand found home on your side.

“hm, you must enjoy me being in pain. i didn’t peg you for a sadist, baby.” you teased.

“nah, that kiss was to make up for the fact that i’m gonna have to stitch you up. i know you hate needles.”

“stitches? no, don’t do this to me!” you throw your head back and whine.

“i know, i know. but your wound is really deep. it won’t heal properly without stitches, webs.” he pouted, running his thumb over your cheek. “don’t worry yourself. i’ll numb you up and be done in no time.”

“i can’t believe this.” you shake your head.

“ugh, i know right? i have to save your life. this is such an inconvenience to my night.” peter sassed you, making you roll your eyes at him.

throughout the entire ordeal, peter did everything in his power to ease your pain and make sure you were comfortable. peter was a doctor, but he was your boyfriend first.

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[merunair]

I got reminded BBCs Merlin exists and that spiraled into remembering a bunch of other really, really shitty adaptations of Arthurian canon and now I'm mad so I'm going to list some true facts about it that should hopefully demonstrate why adding "gritty realism" to it pisses me off so much

-Morgan le Fay serves as a Rita Repulsa-esque figure who throws problems at Arthur. She is also a wholly separate person to Morgause, the mother of Mordred. Morgan le Fay is a badass sorceress who's only motivation for being a Saturday Morning Cartoon Villain(tm) is that Guinevere snubbed her in some way.

-It's full of Welsh folklore, especially regarding faeries, and initially started as a recounting of a bit of Welsh military history before people started adding their OCs to it. It then broke containment and spread across europe, especially during the renaissance.

-Loads of the knights have superpowers. Straight up superpowers. Gawain gets stronger (and in some sources, bigger) the higher the sun is in the sky. Kay has some sort of fire shit going on... It's great. People would add their own guys to the round table and give them Cool Powers because they could. Though mostly it was just super-strength. This fell out of favor as it was Christianized because people are COWARDS.

-Lancelot is a French guy's OC, and despite the whole thing being full of those, Lancelot is the most OC of them all (affectionate). The second most OC of the bunch is a dude known for his edgy coat that he always wore that belonged to his dead dad (I am not joking)

-Half of the dudes are described as 'the fairest' or 'the most handsome'. Some have the caveat of 'second only to Arthur'. I legit read a description of how handsome a random knight was that filled a full page once. This is hilarious.

-There's a knight called Bedivere (he whose name has no set spelling) and he's my favorite. He has a prosthetic hand, is head butler, and is the only bitch to survive the big last battle in retellings that I respect. He's also one half of a comedy duo with Kay, also in retellings that I respect. I am admittedly biased because I played him in a middle school production of a really bad adaptation of a knockoff spamalot

-People just fucking murder each other on accident all of the time to show off how STRONK they are. After jousting got added they started having the horses die when lance met shield which DOESN'T MAKE SENSE but is there to, once again, show how STRONK the knights are.

-More on the note of casting, but there are dark skinned people in the canon. Specifically Moors (which is old europe for muslim north-african people with dark skin, a term not really used anymore because it wasn't actually one ethnic group but several). MORE SPECIFICALLY there is one explicitly biracial knight who's the son of one of the other knights and a (and I quote) "Moorish Princess". His name is Morien because people have never been subtle and was one of the knights for whom the tales waxed poetic about how stronk and handsome he was.

-Saved the best for last but this all gave way to the an early historical examples of larping and possibly kinning. King Edward the Third loved a knight named 'Sir Lionel' so much to the point where he'd hold big round table tourneys where everyone would larp as different characters from Arthurian legend (himself always being Lionel) and even named his son after him. The kicker? Lionel doesn't actually have that much in the way of story. He has like one story to himself and is functionally a sidekick in every other appearance I can find. King Eddy 3 had a Blorbo.

All of this to say that Arthurian canon is lovely and goofy and if I see someone make Morgan le Fay into Mordred's mom again I will spew fire and rain hot, bloody terror from the skies. I also think we should start adding OCs to it again and nobody can stop us.

[scribbleweb]

Id: 565845455965... Check Entry request... Check On the list, check

"You're free to go, Mr. Rudboys," the doorman yawns, before putting his head back down on the desk, trying to get a nap in before the next resident arrives.

 It was a boring and tedious job, Steven figured, so he didn't hold it against him. He nods his head in thanks, as he walks through the door.

As hheads up to his apartment, he can't help but smile. Today is going to be a great day, he's sure.  He enters the elevator as another resident, Izaack Gauss is exiting. He flashes his signature smile, and Steven, being in a good mood, shoots back a small grin before the elevator closes.

Arriving at his floor, making his way to his apartment, something seems... Off.

He can hear something coming from inside- groaning? There's another noise, and then it stops abruptly. He furrows his brow, takes the door that should've been locked and throws it open.

He stares in shock and disbelief at the scene unfolding before him, and while any regular person's blood would run cold, his runs hot with anger. He can see what's left of Mclooy Rudboys, a puddle in the back hallway with but a few bone shards left. ...and in front of him, one dead Steven Rudboys, alive only moments ago, with a double crouched above him. 

"Oh fuck you!" 'Steven' shouts, ripping off his shades, exposing the yellows of his inhuman eyes. He no longer feels thankful to the doorman's sloppiness, who lets in the same guy 3 times without noticing? 

 The other doppelganger, already feasting on what was supposed to be his meal, snickers.  "Looks like we both played the same game, eh? Except I won." There's an edge to his voice, a snarl warning the other doppelganger to find a meal somewhere else.

'Steven' ignores it and takes a step forward, demanding, "Cmon, at least give me half-" 

"Hell no!" The other Doppelganger growls out angrily, "I got here first, I did all the work, I'm the one who's eating tonight"

"Just because you got here first doesn't mean I didn't put in the same effort," he complains, gesturing to himself. "I worked hard on this disguise, I memorized his schedule, and fooled the doorman,"

"I'd hardly call it 'fooling the doorman', that guy's been sleeping through most of his shift and let three Stevens in without a second thought," the other Doppelganger scoffed and rolled his eyes.  "And anyways, that's not my problem. You're late, I already caught these. Go feast somewhere else," He says digging into the original Steven's body, making a mess of himself.

'Steven' stomps over to the two, with clear attitude. He plops himself down on the other side of the body, and takes a huge bite of the original's arm, all while making eye contact with the other doppelganger.  "Fuck you," he says again, mouth full of bloodied raw meat. 

"I hope you choke on it," the other responds.

The two eat in silence, clear tension in the air. They're making quick work, determined to eat faster than the other, to devour a bigger portion of their now-shared meal. It would be too much trouble to fight, they figured. One of the other residents would hear the commotion, and call the D.D.D. Then neither of them would get a good dinner.

The idea of sharing is unacceptable to them, but after each eating an entire arm too fast to really savor it, one breaks the silence.

"Fine," he starts, "we'll split this one. One takes the top half, the other takes the bottom," he decides, shoving the other away from the cadaver's torso. 

"Good," 'Steven' says with a sharp toothy smile, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him. 

"Whatever, just hurry up, I want to get out of here before anyone finds out, I'm not taking my chances with the DDD,"

"You know", the other says between bites, now working on the original's thigh.

"My plan was to just take over Stevens life. Pretend to be him, use this place to lure back more food, maybe some dates. No one would ever know he was gone," he looks down at the body and the pool of blood spilt around it. "Cleaning the place up looks like a pain, though..." He trails off.

The man stops for a moment, thinking about what the other doppelganger said. "Actually, that's a really good idea. It would be so easy to take over, pretend like I'm him. The doorman here is incompetent, he wouldn't even suspect anything. He let me right in. And then I could just keep eating as much as I wanted. No one would ever catch me."

"Us," he corrected. "It's my plan. And-" he points to his disguise "I'm Steven," he says with a smirk.

 The other Steven rolls his eyes, but thinking about how easy the plan is, he agrees. "Fine. Your plan. Whatever. We're going to share it. But I pull off that pathetic excuse for a disguise better than you anyways."

That elicits a glare from the other doppelganger, clearly offended. But otherwise he leaves it at that, intent on finishing up their meal.

"When we're done here, we need to think about who is next. If Steven's visitors keep going missing it'll be suspicious, we'll need to move to another identity eventually.. Any of the neighbors look tasty?"

"hmm," he says thoughtfully. "There's Francis Mosses, just down the hall. He should be easy."

"I've seen him come and go a few times, he looks like a snack," He licks his lips, "It'll be easy to take him out, we'll split him, take our own halves, and move on to the next one."

"I'm not gonna be stuck with the bottom every time, am I?"

"No, of course not. We'll switch them up, keep it fair. I already called the top on this one though, so the next one's yours."

"Oh! There's a pair of twins on one of the other floors, they'd be easy to split"

"The twins, I like that idea. The two of us could each take one of them, be one of them. No one would ever suspect a thing."

'Steven' holds his hand out, not seeming to care that it's covered in blood. They're both drenched, anyways "it's a deal then?" The other double looks at his hand, at the blood covering it. Then he shrugs, and shakes it.

"Deal."

[shelbystales]

Best Aid - Part Six

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing, blood, mention of torture and abortion/misscariage. And overdose. Jesus, dark episode? haha

A/N:  Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The room you were in now was five times larger than your entire apartment. Thomas's aunt's hotel was a thousand times more than you had expected. In your hotel "room," you had a kitchen, a dining room, a TV room, a massive bedroom, and an even bigger bathroom. It's practically a fully furnished luxury apartment with room service, which, according to him, is 100% complimentary for you. The hotel was a bit farther from the hospital, but it didn't make much of a difference.

You felt somewhat out of place, sitting on the light gray, probably more expensive than your car, plush sofa. "Please don't destroy anything," you whispered to Ozzy, who was nestled on your lap.

Why exactly you were here remained a mystery to you. Sure, there's all that "your life is in danger" stuff, but why are you here? Thomas brings everyone around him who's in danger to this hotel? Or were you an exception? And why would you be? Would it be too arrogant to think you were the only one he cared about to this extent? Why would you even want to think that?

In the past few days, you felt your world flip, everything turned upside down. You let your body sink deeply into the sofa, your head falling backward and resting on the soft cushions. Your eyes closed out of exhaustion from the days that had passed, the hours you couldn't sleep. Now, for some strange reason, you felt safe, and within seconds, you slept like you hadn't in days.

**

"Who is she exactly?" Polly asked Thomas as they sipped on whiskey in the hotel restaurant. The restaurant was bustling, guests enjoying their dinner to the soothing sounds of jazz, relishing the cuisine crafted by a Michelin-starred chef.

"The doctor. You know who she is, Pol," Thomas replied, grabbing a cigarette and sliding it to his lips. In a fluid motion, Polly plucked the cigarettes from his mouth.

"Smoking is prohibited here," she said, crushing the cigarette in her hand, causing Thomas to roll his eyes. "I know who she is, but why is she here?" she inquired, gazing into her nephew's eyes, as if trying to read between the lines of his thoughts.

"She's in danger," he replied.

"Aren't we all?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. But she doesn't know anything, Pol. Even if she did, she wouldn't know how to protect herself from it," he sighed. "I can't allow them to kill another person who has nothing to do with any of this," he said, his voice intense.

Pol nodded, her head slowly bobbing back and forth. "Be careful, Thomas. You might do more harm to her if you fall in love," she warned.

Thomas scoffed, shifting his gaze to the restaurant's entrance. "Can you keep an eye on her?" he asked, avoiding eye contact.

"Poor girl," Polly whispered to herself. "Sure, I’ll make sure she is ok," she shrugged.

"Thanks, Pol," he said, then downed the contents of his glass in one gulp.

"Would you like dinner?" Polly asked, but Thomas shook his head.

"No, I've got work to do," he said, rising from his seat and bidding his aunt farewell with a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“Bloody hell” She cursed as she watched him walk away. She knew he was already too involved with you and that could be a problem. 

The last few times Thomas fell in love were chaotic. Let's just say that when he falls in love, he doesn't think straight. Granted, his relationships weren't exactly healthy.

The first woman he fell in love with nearly ten years ago was named Grace. At that time, Thomas was just starting to build his empire. He fell deeply in love with this woman, who turned out to be a spy. Luckily, she was terrible at her job. Several tumultuous months of on-and-off again relationship followed as she was torn between doing her job and allowing herself to fall for the man she had to spy on. 

He spiraled when she decided to do "the right thing" and left his life with a folder full of evidence against Thomas. He had to take her down, well, actually Polly did because he was too busy drowning in alcohol. Grace's name is still not spoken in the Shelby family to this day.

The second one was a crazy Russian, he did business with her family. She was the "if you jump, I jump" type. For a while, Polly thought she might mean something good for him. He was happy, felt alive. She injected some fervor into his life, a kind of motivation.

However, because of her, drugs became a problem. She, like many rich people, had her vices, cocaine being the worst of them. They had an intense nightlife, so intense that it became their entire life. He spent so much time with his face in the white powder at night that during the day, he couldn't function. To make matters worse, he dragged Arthur into it.

Polly spent a long time trying to pull him out of that reality, but nothing worked. Until the Russian woman discovered she was pregnant. Tommy, as crazy and reckless as he might be, he always puts family first. 

After a long conversation with Polly, he knew that he needed to change, but she didn't want to. To start with, she didn't want the child. That was enough to make him crazy angry because he did want it and he knew that if she didn’t, there was nothing he could do about it. 

During that period, they argued 24/7. Until he finally won and made her promise that for nine months, just nine months, she wouldn't use any drugs. In the meantime, he gave her everything she wanted… cars, a house, luxury clothes, horses, businesses, whatever she desired, she had it.

For four months, they went together to the obstetrician, already looking at baby clothes in stores. Polly thought everything was settled. But her sobriety didn't last long. Thomas had to travel to the United States for a weekend, and during that weekend he was away, she had an overdose. It's a common thing, when an addict stays sober for a while and then uses again, they usually maintain the same dosage, but their tolerance is lower. She died, and so did the baby.

After that, Thomas was never the same. He never got seriously involved with any woman again, and it's been six years.

**

You woke up with a start, sitting up abruptly on the sofa as your brain raced to understand where you were. Something that often happens when you take those heavy afternoon naps. 

You brought your hands to your face, rubbing your eyes as you tried to calm down, realizing you felt strangely well-rested. Glancing at your wristwatch, you had an hour before your shift started, so you decided to get up and start getting ready.

In the bathroom, the bathtub seemed to beckon you for a long soak, and you allowed yourself to take advantage of the room's amenities. 

After you were dressed, you heard a knock on the door followed by someone yelling "room service!" You frowned and opened the door to see a woman whose eyes held a certain depth and charisma, and her curly brown hair framed her face in a way that exuded confidence and charm.

"I know you," you said as you tried to figure out where you knew her from.

"Yes, we've met. I'm Polly," she said, extending her hand towards you.

"Oh, yes, of course! It's nice to see you again. Thank you for letting me stay here" you smiled and shook her hand.

"No problem. I brought breakfast for you," she said, pushing a metal cart into the room, forcing the door to swing open, making you step aside.

"That's very kind of you," you replied with a hint of doubt in your voice.

Polly assessed the surroundings and turned her attention back to you. "Didn't sleep?" she asked, looking inside the room, which had a perfectly made bed.

"Oh, I did. I was so tired that I passed out on the sofa," you said with a shy smile.

"I see," she removed the cover from the food on the cart. "I hope you like croissants."

"Who doesn't?" you smiled.

Polly chuckled softly “You have no idea how many people don't”

She said as she began arranging a small breakfast spread on a nearby table, which included not only croissants but also a selection of pastries, fresh fruit, and a steaming pot of coffee. 

“I’ll let you eat” she smiled “if you need anything, you let me know”

“Ok” you nodded “thank you” 

As you started to enjoy your breakfast, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Polly's unexpected kindness.

Your shift at the hospital was calm, with nothing too dramatic happening, just a few broken bones and some cases of diarrhea. But with almost two hours to go, your boss gives you a call and asks if you can pull a double shift because the other doctor had a last-minute issue.

You agree reluctantly because, let's face it, you need the extra cash to move into a new apartment since you're definitely not going back to your old one.

"Hey, beautiful," Jeremy said as he approached you. You were reading a patient's chart who was just admitted.

"Hey," you replied, happy to see him. "Oh, I'm so glad you're on this night shift. I've missed you," you said with a smile and hugged him, setting the chart aside.

"Oh, girl, I had to take my fiancé for a colonoscopy. Poor thing..." he said, and you smiled.

"Why? What's wrong with him?" you asked.

"Suspected benign prostatic hyperplasia," he replied, and you nodded.

"But he's so young. BPH usually happens in older patients. It's a bit weird, isn't it?" you furrowed your brow, and he agreed as you walked through the hospital hallway.

"Yeah, it is, but the doctor doesn't think it's anything serious, and I'm trusting him. And don't you dare fill my head with worries," he warned you with an annoyed look.

"It probably isn't anything serious," you reassured him with a laugh.

"How is your man, by the way?" he asked.

"What man?" you asked, frowning.

"Thomas?" he said as if it were obvious.

"He's not my man Jer, for God's sake," you replied, avoiding the question.

"Hmm. I see you still haven't sorted things out with him. Why?" he asked.

“Too complicated” you answered “can we please not talk about it?”

“You are really just gonna let him go that easily? not even one fuck to see if things match? What if he’s that kind of guy who fucks you senseless? He sure looks like it” he chuckled 

“You are so… so dirty” you said, not finding the right words

“That's what my fiance tells me” he smirked, making you laugh

Your shift continued calmly until around two in the morning when the same figures you had prayed to any higher power, be it God or the universe, not to return to the hospital, came back. Arthur and John Shelby walked in, carrying a man covered in blood. Thomas walked calmly behind them. The nurses on duty rushed to assist in transporting the man, who appeared unconscious, to a bed.

"I need him alive," Thomas said as you passed in front of him on your way to the man. You stopped and stared at him for a few seconds, a mix of confusion and anger on your face. Looking at his hands, you noticed the scratches on his knuckles and blood, a lot of it. You thought of a million things to say but simply shook your head and continued to walk to the man.

"Okay, what do we have?" you asked, putting on your gloves as you saw Jeremy opening the patient's clothing. Other nurses were connecting him to the cardiac monitor while another assessed his neurological responses.

"Male, around 30, beaten and with a gunshot wound, no signs of exit wound," Jeremy said “look at this” he said showing you the man's hands, all nails were pulled out “He was tortured.”

"Neurological signs are normal," the nurse assessing responded.

"Alright, let's control the bleeding. Can someone get a blood bag, just in case?" you requested and began evaluating the gunshot wound in his shoulder, which appeared to be a few days old, already starting to show signs of infection. "Oh, jesus. Can someone bring the portable X-ray; we need to see where the bullet is lodged."

"There's no bullet," Thomas said, standing a few steps away from the bed.

The nurses looked at you, puzzled, waiting to see if they should fetch the X-ray or not. "Go," you said, choosing to ignore him.

"It's a waste of time. You won't find anything," he insisted.

"Do you want to do my job?" you snapped, annoyed, and when he remained silent, you continued, "Then shut up and let us work.". You knew if you told him to wait outside or to fuck off he would ignore you and that would piss you off more.

You turned your attention back to the man. "Has his blood been collected?" you asked.

"Yes, I told the lab to rush the tests," Jeremy replied, now cleaning the patient, who was covered in both dried and fresh blood, making it difficult to see the wounds. The man’s face was unrecognizable, all swollen, red and purple. 

"I want a chest and a head X-ray," you instructed. As soon as the radiologist arrived with the machine, he nodded and started to do his work. 

"Jaw fractured in many places," the radiologist reported as he examined the images. "He has some signs of pneumonia, his bronchi are very radiolucent. Lungs don't look too good. No sign of free fluid and no sign of any bullets. There are also five broken ribs, all still in place with no indication of lung perforation. Bullet wound looks clean, nothing damaged around it" he sighed “that’s all” 

"Thank you," you said with a smile as you watched him walk away. "It's likely he has aspirational pneumonia, given the amount of blood in his nostrils and mouth," you remarked while examining his mouth. "Alright, let's begin with broad-spectrum antibiotics and some pain relief. We'll proceed with the dressings, and remember, the bullet wound requires pressure. I won't suture the wound because it looks bad and infected” you took another look at the wound 

You worked efficiently with your team to stabilize the patient, providing him with the necessary care. Despite the earlier tension with Thomas, you focused on your duties as a doctor. The man's life was in your hands, and you were determined to do everything you could to save him.

“We'll await the results of the blood test to determine if a transfusion is necessary; I suspect it is due to his pale mucous membranes, but we'll confirm that. He does appear somewhat dehydrated, so we can prepare the fluids, but let's hold off on it a bit. If he's hypovolemic, giving him fluid prematurely could worsen his condition." You continued, "We should also work on warming him up," your gaze shifting to his pale and cold skin. "Monitoring his vital signs will be crucial. Keep a close watch on his oxygen saturation, heart rate, and blood pressure. Please inform me immediately if you notice any changes."

As the medical team swiftly began implementing your orders, you kept a watchful eye on the patient's condition. The antibiotics and pain relief were administered promptly, and the dressings were applied with care, paying special attention to the bullet wound's pressure.

You took a deep breath, observing the medical team as they moved in an almost synchronized rhythm. The controlled chaos of the emergency room was like a well-orchestrated dance, each member playing their part with precision and efficiency.

Taking a step back, you scanned the area, but Thomas was nowhere to be seen. You walked outside to search for him and found him with his brothers, right outside, smoking.

"Is he alive?" he asked when he saw you.

"Did you do that?" you asked, ignoring his questions. He ran his tongue over his lips, briefly averting his gaze as if he had no patience for your question.

"Is he alive?" he asked again, this time with more firmness in his voice.

"Yes..." you responded almost in a whisper.

"Good," he said, tossing his cigarette on the ground and heading towards his car.

"I need to know his name; he needs a file," you said urgently.

"Oh, he's a John Doe," he replied, his back turned to you as he walked away, almost mockingly.

"He was tortured!" you yelled.

"Was he?" he asked, turning to you as he opened the door to his car. "I didn't notice. Call me if he dies."

You stood there, seething with anger and frustration, watching him drive away without a care in the world. The Shelby brothers remained smoking, exchanging glances as they witnessed the tense encounter between you and Thomas.

“What the fuck are both still doing here?” you asked

“Making sure no one comes for him,” Arthur said, trying to hide his chuckle

You shook your head and returned to the hospital. You couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that something was terribly wrong with this situation. The mysterious patient had been brutally beaten and left for dead, and Thomas's nonchalant attitude left a sour taste in your mouth. A wave of nausea washed over you. The same hands that had once made you crave for more were now capable of something so terrible. Doubt and unease gnawed at your mind as you grappled with the unsettling reality of Thomas Shelby's duality.

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[silent-raven13]

"Daddy, may I have another teacake?"

(AU: Miles is a transman happily married to Hobie and they have a son together.)

Miles looks through his kitchen to find a teacups for afternoon tea and scones. The thirty one year old set up the two teacups and scones then he hears the tea kettle whistling out loud. Going to get two tea bags, he quickly rushes into the living room to find his sister in-law sitting on one of the arm chairs reading a book. "Will Earl Grey be fine? I couldn't find Black tea."

Hobie's older sister's dark eyes glances up with a small smile, she had on a floral purple printed head scarf to cover her shaved head. The dark circles around her eyes made her eyes look bigger, and she wore a long blue floral printed house dress with some fuzzy green slippers. Her once flourished plump legs were now skinny, very slim to the point it look boney. She wore warm thick socks, and have a blanket on her lap.

"That's fine, Miles." She set her book down to the table next to her. The large window behind her set the comfortable mood.

"Alright, will you be fine with blueberry scones?"

"Yes, can you please cut it for me?" She kindly asked having a soft voice, she's the shyest sibling out all of them. Miles is always amazed by her shy kindness, she's like a little mouse... yet, she was the one that raised all of Brown children.

"Yes, would you like it toasted with butter?" Miles asked knowing full well his sister in-law wouldn't ask what she wants, she felt a burden the moment she came out to her family about having cancer.

It shook many of her siblings, but many didn't seem to be able to have the ability to take her in or they try to figure out what to do. Miles remember how Hobie came to him freaking out, scared almost in a full breakdown for his eldest sister. His husband always said his older sister is more of mother to him than his actual drunken mother.

Miles wanted to support his husband and want to help with Ronica as much as possible. The two first thought about sending money to support her, hoping one of his siblings would take her in and watch her. Sadly, half of them couldn't because they couldn't afford it or have the time. The other half had their schedules, families, or aren't committed to that kind of responsibilities. It was all back and forth which causes them to fight, argue about the whole thing.

The other main problem was their mother, she didn't seem to care or wanted to watch over her eldest child. She didn't mind taking the money for her own personal use, which all of them knew she would do. So the Brown siblings had to make sure their older sister has to get out of that home to be take care of. Another is to watch over her, or hire someone to take care of her.

The stress causes some to ghost for a bit, which was very messed up. Ronica tries to say she can do it on her own and work something out with their mother. For the first time in years, Hobie had a cigarette from the stress, and got caught by his Sunflower. Miles never forget the look on his face.

"Sunflower? Um... this... fuck, I can't think. I... My sis..." Hobie inhale a long drag of his cigarette being outside of the small balcony from their apartment, "Delroy... that bloody.... that nitwit told us that he's out. Fucking hell, he rather spend his money on his own damn drugs."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I understand." Miles knew his man being stressed out for his sister. Slowly went to hug him, he didn't care about him smoking, again.

He shook his head, "Chandice and the others can't take her in..."

"What? Why?" Miles looks up at him being surprised.

"I dunno... stupid excuses. Or... I dunno. You would think they would try to help." Hobie grunts, "And Ronica, too! What was she thinking telling us all late about her cancer? Level 3! 3! She needs chemo, a nurse to watch for her, and- and FUCK!" He bangs on the rail with his fist being pissed off to the point his eyes filled with tears, "She needs to feel comfortable, safe! Not with that fucking monster."

"Baby, I know. I know, you are worried. But you need to calm down," Miles rub his husband's back, "We'll figure something out."

"Luv, I... she will die if she doesn't get the help and-and I'm not ready for that. She did everything for us," Hobie weeps into his husband's arms, "How come six of us can't fucking figure out how to help her, but she can take care all of us, hmm? Tell me, how fucked up is that?"

"Hobie," Miles held his husband's face been caring and gentle, "You need to understand your siblings have lives, too. Look at us, we're here in America. Chandice is a lawyer always in and out never at home. Heck, even her own children barely sees her with the way she's always working. Delroy- well, he always been the kind to never keep his promise. Your other siblings work for minimum wage and live in smalls apartments. You even said Ronica needs to live in a comfortable home with her own space, and nurse. The only solution for them is to move back with you guys' mom! And she's not easy to deal with." He tries to give the benefit of the doubt for his sister and brother in-laws, they all ended up runaways or left home at a young age to avoid their mother. The only one that stayed was Ronica.

"It's just... she sacrifice for us so much! Why can't we? Huh? Why can't they suck it up and-" Hobie saw the look his husband gave it was a concerned frown. "Miles, Sunflower don't give me that look."

"Mi alma, you know no one wants to go back to that horrible house. Not when your mother is still there." Miles tightly hugs his husband, "We'll figure something out-" Hobie cut him off, "The only thing I can think of... nah, too much."

"What is it?"

"I... No, forget it."

"Hobie!"

"What if we move to Britain? We can buy a house, live there to take care of her." Hobie asked.

"Hobie..." Miles's eyes widen.

"I know. I know! I thought, we're fine. I'm making money from my band and-and I'm sure with this new album out and the tour, you can stop working for a bit. Just to go back to your art career. Stay at home and freelance." He tries to explain, "I know it's stupid. I never w-" Miles quickly said, "Let's do it."

"Wha?"

"Let's do it. I'm all in! Bae, Hobie," Miles stares deeply in his man's eyes, "I'm willing to do this for Ronica, I want to help and be there for her."

"Really? Like for sure?"

"I'm sure, bae."

"Alright... um... okay." Hobie let out a big smile through his teary eyes, "We're doing it. We're moving to Britain, Sunflower." The two chuckles. "Gawd, I love you."

"Love you, too, bae." Miles kisses his husband. "Mm, cigarette taste.. yuck."

"Opps, sorry, Sunflower." He put out his cigarette, "Doesn't taste as good as it use to. I'll quit, right now."

It's been two years since the move, they bought a beautiful home in a nice area with a lovely garden, and nice view of a pond. Ronica did love going to the patio outside to watch the scenery, her favorite part is watch a family of ducks waddling around the pond. It got Aaron interested to watch them.

Miles quit his job to be a freelancer artists and help take care of his sister in-law, while Hobie focus on his music career. The band had a massive fanbase causing tours to pop up, and new ideas for the next album.

Of course it was hard to move from his family and his home. New York had always been his home, and he loves every bit of it, but he wants to his husband to help Ronica as much as he can. It was hard saying good-bye to his family, even Aaron was upset in saying good bye to his grandparents. Miles knew this would be a fresh new start for the Morales family.

Seeing how Ronica is slowly recovering, it's all worth it.

"Yes, please. Perhaps a little bit of blackcurrant jam." Ronica kindly said liking her scones to be a lightly toasted with butter and jammed.

"Alright, no cream?"

"Oh no, darling. It's much too sweet for me." She said.

"Okay," Miles went back passing by his four year old son watching television and playing with his toys. His hand playfully petted his boy's bald head, "What you doin', bebé?"

"Umm... watchin' Spongebob." Little Aaron already talking and walking being a kind boy. Now he has a British accent like his papá. It makes Miles crack up, because he never thought his son would speak in a British accent.

Miles smiles at his boy before going to the kitchen to prepare for teatime, "Mi vida, you hungry?" He called for his son being reminded if he wants some snacks.

"Yes, daddy." Little Aaron walks into the kitchen with his hands together being curious.

"You want a Chocolate scone or blueberry one?" Miles asked.

"Hmmm?" The little boy took a moment before he asked, "Daddy, can I have a two chocolate covered biscuits?" His British accents is heavily influenced by his aunty and his daycare friends.

"Now, you know you can't have cookies, right now." Miles noticed his son having some fixation with cookies and would gobble it up like nothing. "You had one in the morning."

"I did? Oh dear," He looks a bit surprised like his daddy told a lie to him, he grab his Bluey blue shirt having to pull down being a bit anxious, "I simply can't remember."

This made Miles hold on his giggle with his lips pressed together, hearing his son speaking so polite is adorable and funny. Never in his life he expected this, always thought his boy would have a full blown Brooklyn accent.

We're living in Britain, now.

"How about a scone, mi vida?" Miles asked.

"No, thank you. It's terribly dry for me." Aaron said being unamused by the second option.

"How about a teacake?" Miles knows a teacake with a bit of butter will be alright. "A little butter."

"Is it the one with chocolate and marshmallows?"

"Aaron, you know that has a biscuit in it?"

"Yes, but it's a teacake. A lovely teacake." He looks at his parent with a puppy pout, "I rarely eat them."

That is true....

Miles sighs, "Alright, mi amor. One teacake and a side of strawberries?"

"Okay. Thank you." Aaron turns to his television, "Now, if you excuse me, I would like to watch my show." He went back to the living room.

Miles finally let out a giggle being so amused at his son, he quickly went to get the tea and scones ready. He took out a small sippy cup with a none caffeine tea with milk for his son, since Ronica and Hobie mention that Aaron should start liking tea like the other kids.

Depending on the parents, they would allow tea to their child's diet. Some add milk, others drink plain. Miles wanted Aaron to slowly get use to it by adding more of a none-caffeinated tea with milk.

The thirty one year old came by with a tray with their tea and treats, "Tea is ready. Aaron, honey, come join us for tea time." He and Ronica saw Aaron quickly pausing his show with a remote, before rushing to sit on his daddy's lap.

"Oh, how lovely!" Aaron saw the tray being well organized and presentable, his own little plate with a chocolate teacake and strawberries on the side and a sippy cup.

Miles picks up his son and hand his sippy cup, "Here you go, mi vida." Giving him a kiss on his bald head then a gentle rub. "How is it?"

"It's nice." Aaron sips his tea with milk enjoying the taste. "May I have a teacake, please?"

Ronica giggles, "He's such a polite boy. Hobie use to be like that when he was a toddler with me but never our other siblings."

"Hahaha, he respects you too much." Miles chuckles having a buttered scone in his hand to take a bite.

Aaron sips his sippy cup then took a bite of his chocolate covered marshmallow teacake. A bit of chocolate got around his lip as he chews. "You like your teacake, bebé?" Miles asked his son who was nodding as he's chewing.

"Mmm-hmm."

Ronica chuckles, "He has a massive sweet tooth like his pa." She took a sip of her tea.

"Oh yeah, I would have to hide the teacakes or else Hobie would devour it all in one sitting." Miles said, "I find these tea times really fun when I first moved into Britain."

"It's quite nice, isn't it? Aaron seems to get the accent plus the Jamaican one, too." Ronica giggles having to be the main influenced when she watches her nephew.

Aaron did pick up a British Jamaican accent while living in Britain. Miles was aware once Aaron fully understood Hobie and Ronica speaking Patois here and there, even he would use the language. Meanwhile, Miles is trying to teach him Spanish and had the daycare put up for Spanish Speaking lessons. "He's becoming a little British boy."

His sister in-law laughs in amusement, "Indeed he is. He's been liking the food, too. You were having a hard time adjusting, hmm?"

"Haha," Miles did admit he didn't like the food in this country, it had a rather plain taste to it. Certain locations didn't have the flavors he craves for. He did admit he did became fond of Battered fish and chips, pastries, and their chocolates. Luckily Hobie and Ronica show him areas where it's mainly focus on Caribbean shops for their seasoning and fun spots they like to eat. "Yeah, the food didn't have any flavor. Also, the coke here isn't as good as the one in the US."

"Really? I quite like coke here. Then again, I never traveled anywhere except the local shop near my old home." Ronica's show a bit of sadness, "I never did anything extravagant compare to my brothers and sisters really."

"There's still time for you to do the things you want. How about we write a list what you wanna do or go. I'm sure we can make it happen."

"Oh no, you and Hobie did so much for me. It would be-" Miles placed his hand on Ronica's thin hand with a gentle smile on his face, "Nica, it's alright. We're family. We got your back. See it as Hobie repaying you for dealing with him when he was a kid. Besides, you deserve to enjoy yourself and be free. You're no longer at your mother's and need to watch her."

"Thank you. I'm just... I don't believe I deserve it. I felt like I didn't do enough with my siblings."

"You did plenty. You gave up most of your life for them and it shouldn't been you, it was your mother's responsibility. You deserve to treat yourself and enjoy the things you want that's why Hobie gave you allowances and credit cards. So tell me, where did you wish to travel?"

"Hmm," Ronica let out a shy smile, "I always did want to go to the Big Apple. Hobie always loves talking about how the food is large, the places are crazy and the people are just as wild. I did want to go to London, too. I rarely got as much to visit places around here." She admits she never left her home not when she only wants to buy groceries or simple clothing in near shops.

"Then, we can plan it." Miles happily said.

Aaron already finished his teacakes and had lick his hands covered in chocolate, "Mmm, delicious. Scrumptious!"

"Oh Aaron, don't lick your hands!" His daddy quickly grab a napkin to clean his hands, "I know it's good but licking your hands isn't good manners."

"But we're at home! Dad always licks his fingers when he eat cake with his hand." Aaron being confused.

Ronica giggles, "Looks like he's picking his papa's habits."

"Oh certainly not." Miles will shut down those bad habits, "I will make sure of that." He let his son eat his strawberries in peace. "I will have to talk to hubby about it."

Aaron chews on his strawberries, "Mmm, yummy." He wipe his hands on his Spider-man shirt while he grabs another strawberry.

"Aaron, you have a napkin to wipe your hands..."

"Papá wipes his hands on his pants..."

Ronica hides her giggles, "He has a mouth just like your husband."

"I'll probably have to talk to him about these habits." Miles mutters while taking a sip of his tea. He enjoys these moments with Ronica, it's like he had another sister by his side.

Aaron smack his lips, "Daddy, may I have another teacake?"

"Sorry, bud." His daddy said, "You have to wait after dinner."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get too full when it's dinner time."

"But Papá eats the whole box of teacakes! Why can't I?"

This made Ronica let out a hearty laugh, her poor nephew is throwing his sweet papa under the bus. "I'm sorry, Miles."

"No-no. Your good. I get it. Hobie and Aaron are a funny pair." Miles shook his head at the idea that his sweet baby boy is learning all of Hobie's habits. "Okay, how about this? You can get another teacake if you can ask in me in Spanish." Maybe this will be a fair outcome.

"Spanish?" Aaron asked.

"Sí, pregúntame en español." Miles spoke Spanish to his son.

Aaron turns to face Ronica with an adorable lip smacking sound, he wanted another teacake. Then he asked in Spanish, "Puedo comer otro pastel de té?" Without even trying, he looks at his daddy with the most innocent face.

Oh, that's the innocent look his husband pulls! This made Ronica let out a gasp with a wide smile seeing a similar Hobie Brown.

Miles could only give him another one, "This is your last one, Cookie." A little nickname he gave his son for his love for cookies or as the British say biscuits.

"Yay!" Aaron happily claps his hands with joy. The four year boy happily ate up his second teacake with pure joy.

It was night time and the famous punker arrived in his private home from a long day in the music studio, writing songs, fixing tunes, and singing different styles... it's all a very long process. He came home to a quiet house, it's late so he figured his sister and son went off to bed. They never like missing curfew, so he went to the kitchen to find an island with a plate of his food covered with his name on it.

"Awe, Sunflower." His heart flutters knowing his husband prepared him a plate. Oh, and it looks like it's rice and peas with Jamaican chicken curry, and fried plantains. Hobie's mouth watered when he saw Jamaican fried dumplings. He can tell his sister helped Miles in making their mother's fried dumplings, though it should be known as Ronica's fried dumplings. The old bat never did anything for him or siblings.

The lights turned out, "Welcome back, Anarchist." Hearing his husband's soft voice, the older punker happily turns to him leaning on the side wall where the switch was.

"Sunflower." Hobie let out a warm smile, he saw his husband wearing a loose knitted oversized sweater and pajamas pants with slippers. His hair in a navy blue bonnet. "How was today? Was work too much?"

"Honestly, it was easy. Your sister ate a good amount," Miles went over to sit next to the island, watching his husband heat up his dinner in the microwave. "Aaron ate two plate fulls."

"Oh yeah? The lad is eatin' like a man." Hobie grins at his husband, "Just like me."

"And he's picking up certain habits from you, too."

"Like?"

"He licks hands and says you lick your fingers when you grab cake and eat it like this," Miles mimics how Hobie grabs a slice of cake with one hand and eats it, "or he wipes his dirty hand on his clothes and say you do it with your jeans..."

"Well, I don't actually wipe my hands on my jeans, Sunflower..."

"and how you always eat a whole box of teacakes and he only gets one so he ask why he can't get another one before dinner."

"Cheeky lad. Throwing me under the bus."

Miles went over to hug his punker, his arms around his waist, "Bae, Aaron is four and he's picking up these things and thinking they're okay. I just want you to be mindful when he's in the room. Also, we're gonna strict your daily sugar intake, just this week I bought twelve boxes of teacakes and we're down with only two!"

"In my defense when I get high I need my teacakes, and I need my snacks." Hobie happily said as he kisses his husband's lips, "Love you."

"Hobie."

"Alright, I'll be a well-mannered gentlemen, but only after he goes to bed I get to be myself." His punker hums, "And here I thought I'm going to raised my little anarchist."

"He can be an anarchist and have good manners. I don't want him being gross at daycare and stains don't come off easily, bae." Miles explained, "Now, give me a kiss." He pucker his lips waiting for his hubby to kiss him.

"Mwah, then I'll make him the most witty anarchist yet." Hobie chuckles lowly.

"Please, he's already like you. You should've seen him when I told him he could have another teacake if he can ask me in Spanish, and he acted all innocent! He gave that look you always do when you pretend to not know what's going on?"

"What look?" Hobie does the look.

"That look!" His husband pointed it out. Hobie let out a deep chuckle being amused.

"And did he?"

"He asked fully in Spanish as a four year old would. Hobie, we're raising another you. Ronica find it so amusing."

"Hahaha, I bet she did. I was a lil pain in the arse and she cursed me out about how I would end up with a little me."

Miles laughs, "Because no one can be Hobie Brown if it's his own kin."

"Exactly, luv. Mwah. Mwah!" He kisses his husband lips and the tip of his nose, "Love you for putting up with us."

"Oh hahaha, you know I love you guys." Miles playfully shove his man, "Besides, Aaron is gonna make you stress when he's a teenager."

"Please, I dealt with my brother, Abraham and Delroy was known to cause trouble with gals in our neighborhood."

"And you think Aaron won't? Teenagers are always curious. Remember how you were with my dad?" Miles arched his eyebrow with a smug look on his face. "I think that's where he got gray hairs."

"Me? Naur, I refuse to believe your pops got grey hairs because of me, Sunflower." He had a wide smirk on his face giving a weak lie.

Miles hums, "If you say so, bae."

"I swear!"

His husband can only rolled his eyes, "Anyway, I've been wanting to talk to you about our summer vacation."

"Yeah?"

"Ronica told me she always wanted to explore the United Kingdom a bit more. Maybe we can take a safe road trip with her and Aaron?"

"Hmm, you know what that does sound a good idea. I was wanted her to go to London and let her live a little." The punker did want his sister to enjoy herself.

"And Scotland would be nice to go. I was looking at a nice hotel, but I wanted to make sure if you're okay with this. I know this is all maybe seeing we have to wait how her condition gets."

"It'll be fine to take her as long as she gets better if not baby steps. We'll go one important city for a day." Hobie took out his warm plate from the microwave after he heard the beep. "Maybe go to the beach for her to experience everything."

"We can take her to a nice cafe, book store and maybe take her on a blind dates?" Miles offers.

Hobie frowns, "I dunno about blind dates... she's very inexperience with those things and with mum putting fucked up thoughts in her head..."

"We can give her therapy, if she wants it." Miles knows his husband's mother had ruined a lot of the Brown children's self esteem, especially Ronica taking the worst verbal abuse. It's a shame to see his sister in-law viewing herself as an ugly woman with no appealing features on her body, she made comments about her hair, her black skin or her face. Yet she had beautiful dark umber skinned that makes her so majestic, so appealing to see. "Your mother was a monster, Hobie. You know, a bitter woman couldn't stand her children especially her daughters doing better than her. She's a drunk with nothing to show for it all over for a man who left her and you guys."

The crazy about the Brown's children, they do not look their age. They are the prime example of Black don't crack. Ronica being the main proof, she's forty years old looking in her twenties. Right now, she looks older because of her cancer, when she's cured she'll be back looking young and beautiful.

"When she gets better, perhaps we can ease into it. It's a sensitive topic. Our mum really called us ugly stupid useless bastards." Hobie knows this all too well.

"Horrible. Such a horrible woman." Miles remember meeting her once and that was enough for him to walk before wanting to smack the old bitter woman around. "I'm just glad with got Nica out of there."

Hobie nodded, "Yes, we did." The two stood in silence for the moment.

"Well, finish your meal, bae." Miles patted his husband's back, "I'll be in the room."

"Alright, thank you for preparing it." Hobie pulls him into a side hug.

"You're welcome, husband." Miles kisses his cheek before taking his leave.

After Hobie finished up his meal, he went into his bedroom to find his husband taking off his sweater revealing his bare chest. The faint scars of his top surgery looked nicely healed, and a vivid happy trail, "I didn't know you were putting on a show, Shuflower. Do I lay on the bed?" He jokes.

"Ha, ha, ha." Miles fake laughs at his husband before putting on a big oversize white t-shirt to sleep, "just changing into my comfy shirt, you horn-dog."

"I do enjoy seeing you strip." Hobie sat on his bed to take off his heavy thick Doc Martin black boots, then remove his jewelry making clicking sounds as he set them on his nightstand.

"You must be so exhausted?" Miles finished changing, he crawl on his king size bed to go over his husband to massage his shoulders, "Ohh, you're tense."

"Mmm, feels nice, lovely." His husband groans at the massage. "I need this."

"You're working hard, bae."

"Have to with the deadline for the album. We only got to finished two songs... fucking Karl is on this drama crap with his boyfriend." He grunts.

"You think they would get married already."

"Heh, they act like they young. We're getting old, Sunflower." He lift his head to face his Miles.

"Ay, we're still young and thriving."

"Ha, not with these back pains."

"Oh bae, please. Just the other week you went to a party taking shots, and drinking beer like you were twenty one." Miles huffs, "Your being so dramatic."

"I had a nasty hangover the day after." He pouted, "And I use to mix my drinks, now I can't handle tequila."

"You never did. Bae, Tequila is the worst for you." His husband cracks up.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah?" Hobie playfully got on top of his husband giving his tickles and blowing raspberries on his neck. Miles bursts into giggles as he struggles to break free.

"Hobie that tickles!" He laughs again.

The punk give him a kiss, "Sunflower, you challenged me."

"No, I didn't it." He laughs, then he quickly got on his husband's lap.

"Oh? Luv, it's like you want something from me." His arms resting on his husband's waist, "Hmm?"

"Oh yeah?" Miles flirted.

"Yeah," Hobie patted Miles' rear, "Alright, let me go shower."

"No."

"No?"

"You smell good, stay for a bit." Miles' hands cup his punker's jaw, "You don't wanna stay with me for a bit, hmm?"

Hobie smirks with a low seductive voice, his lips lightly graze his Sunflower's, "You always know how to get me in the palm of your hands, luv."

Miles giggles as the two kiss passionately. Hobie happily falls on his back and mutters about a condom in his nightstand. "Shh, don't worry about it. We always wanted another baby." Miles suggested as he unbuckle his man's belt. Hobie could only smile loving at his husband.