#I drew this pretty much just to amuse myself but maybe someone else will get something out of it too.

[kwillow]

Woeful envy is a normal thing for a good Christian boy to feel when listening to songs about the son of God, right?

[ridiasfangirlings]

Reading Niki's chapter in Zero Fragments, we know that Niki had no interest in anyone or anything. However, within the same story it is said that he was only interested in one thing. And in several fragments it is alluded that that something is Saruhiko, like when he calls Kisa to find out about Saru. In addition, he himself stated that he should spend as little time as possible so as not to lose interest in anything, thus explaining why he was absent for long periods of time from home, so Ridia-san, how would you describe the type of interest that Niki felt for her own son? What do you think Niki could have found in Saru "interesting" to attract her attention? Do you think that Niki somehow believed that Saruhiko was a bit like him?

The part where he asks if he was scared when the disaster happened somehow left me wondering if Niki actually thought her son was similar to him…

That makes me wonder if Niki came to feel what it is to be a father in her way. And it reminds me of the short story where Fushimi owns a flower shop and there they talk about Niki being a good father to him.

It was definitely pretty strongly indicated in the Zero Fragments chapter that Niki’s only thing of interest is his son, and specifically just seeing his son miserable and upset. I wrote a little bit about it here when the chapter came out but Niki strikes me as something of the opposite of Munakata, where Munakata is able to find endless fascination in the things which interest him Niki gets bored by things easily and that’s why he only shows up at home every now and again, so that he doesn’t become bored of Saruhiko. It’s definitely a twisted sort of ‘affection’ (if we could even call it that), I think Niki’s feelings for his son are really more like a child who’s found a particularly interesting toy — Niki doesn’t really seem to think of his son as an actual human child who needs affection and guidance, instead Saruhiko is really just there for Niki’s amusement. And what amuses Niki the most about him is watching Saruhiko get angry or upset, Niki enjoys seeing Fushimi miserable because to him it’s the cutest and most interesting thing in the world. That he’s actively traumatizing his kid for his own amusement doesn’t really enter into Niki’s thoughts, because he’s only interested in the things he wants and nothing else.

Regarding Fushimi being similar to him, I wonder if Niki really thinks that. He taunts Kisa with the possibility in the All Characters story but I’m not sure if that’s Niki bringing up his own feelings as opposed to just assuming what Kisa thinks, that Kisa hates her child because he reminds her of her shitty husband. I actually feel like maybe Niki considers Fushimi to be similar to Kisa as well and that’s why Niki finds him so interesting — like we know Niki tires of things easily and doesn’t really have any attachments himself, but he’s still married with a child. Similarly in reading the All Characters story and how Kisa feels like Niki is someone who has the ability to pull her away from her chosen path I found myself wondering if that was part of why Kisa chose to not to be close to her son, that she basically ‘sacrificed’ Saruhiko to Niki’s interest. So going on that headcanon, I wonder if Kisa did have some quality that drew Niki to her and made him gain enough interest in her to actually marry her (and he still seems to have some affection for her too, like he may not be as interested in her as he is his monkey but he still shows up to bother her at her birthday party in the First Contact manga). Then when she had a child those same qualities that were passed down to Saruhiko caused Niki to switch the bulk of his interest to the kid and Kisa was basically able to finally go do her work as she wanted, provided she lets her husband abuse their child in return. 

And the impression I get from Niki is that he probably wouldn’t like Saruhiko much if Saruhiko really was similar to Niki. They look alike but Fushimi clearly has a different disposition, even Fushimi’s twisted side isn’t really the exact same as Niki’s. When he’s taking on Niki’s mannerisms to taunt Yata, for example, it may be for his own amusement but at the same time I feel like Fushimi is trying to hurt himself here as much as he is Yata. And Niki doesn’t destroy the things he himself loves, he plays with those until he’s bored — it’s the things that Fushimi Saruhiko loves which Niki constantly tries to break. In fact on that end, I think if you broke a lot of Niki’s precious things he might laugh and shrug, the only precious thing he really would care about at all is Saruhiko. Meanwhile Fushimi gets upset and even cries when he’s a child and those are the reactions that Niki loves, the ones that are entirely different from his own, I think he loves how this kid is his and looks like him but at the same time always reacts in ways that Niki doesn’t expect (ways which are normal for a child, but Niki wasn’t a normal kid and so he doesn’t understand that).

[transandersrights]

happy friday!! how about handers, nighttime in kirkwall, and someone's laughing nearby?

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ohhh this is a really evocative prompt, ty! I offer ~700 words of mHanders pre-relationship flirting. It got real goofy ahaha

It was almost the moment they stepped out of the Hanged Man that Hawke tilted his head to one side and groaned. “Maker, they had to do it out here?”

Anders twigged only a moment later, catching the distinctive sound of running water. Not the sea in the distance; running water, outside the tavern with the Free Marches’ most unsanitary hole-in-the-floor toilets. Yep, that could only be one thing. “Better out than in?” he offered, smile wry.

Hawke’s returning smile was unfairly soft. Andraste’s sweet nipple tassels, he had to stop doing that. “Better inside than outside though, surely. What if there’s a dog out here! Or a mugger?”

“There are muggers in the Hanged Man,” Anders pointed out.

“Point taken.” Not that they’d ever go for Hawke, but someone tried their luck with Merrill once. Poor sod walked out with a half-empty bag of nuts and a shadow in the shape of Varric’s pending blackmail against him. “Must be embarrassing, though. Dick out in a Kirkwall alleyway.”

“Oh, you’re such a romantic.” Hawke shoved him very gently for that, and Anders made a point of stumbling forward, arms flailing. “And a gentleman, too!”

“I can be a gentleman.” It was too dark, and Hawke’s face just a little too far away, but Anders could hear the pout. “I could show you chivalry like you’ve never seen.”

“You could, could you?” Anders really should have stopped pushing the flirting weeks ago; no, months ago. Hawke was an unattainable dream, and this was only going to make it all worse, but…

Hawke bowed low, his arm twirling in a particularly lavish flourish. “My fair companion. Would you accompany me on a nightly stroll back to your humble abode?”

Yeah. That was why Anders was primarily screwed and secondarily never going to stop; terrible Orlesian accent and all. “We’ll trade eau de piss for eau d’espair.”

Hawke snorted; around the corner where the piss noises came from, so did someone else. Great — they had an audience. Except then, because Hawke was as much a shameless flirt as Anders and twice as bold when there were other people around, he moved closer, his arm outstretched in an obvious invitation.

They’d look like drunks, walking arm in arm and laughing at each other’s awful jokes. Hawke was lightly tipsy at most, and Anders stone cold sober, but they’d still attract the worst kind of attention. Did he have the energy for that right now?

Did he care, if he’d get to walk with Hawke like that? Anders was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

“I think you surprise me more every day,” he said, stretching his arm out in turn. Hawke linked them at the elbow, a small smile forming on his face.

“I dedicate myself ever to your amusement.” And his voice was softer again, which was so unfair. Who taught this man to be like that? Who made Anders so susceptible? “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

The laughter, once around the corridor, drew closer and came into view. Anders recognised its owner, someone he’d had in the clinic a couple of times: a dwarf with a particularly impressive grey beard — he couldn’t recall her name. “You two are hilarious,” she said. She looked between them, then snorted. “Sorry, did I interrupt your foreplay?”

“No!” The moment he said it, Anders felt bad about how quickly the words left his mouth. Yikes, that wasn’t going to make Hawke think this was anything more than a joke at all.

Maybe that was a good thing.

She glanced at Anders again. “Sure. You’re in the way of the door, by the way.”

“Right.” Hawke’s voice sounded tight when he lead Anders away, leaving the path to the Hanged Man clear once more. “Hope you had a good piss?”

She grinned. “Go sober up, lover boy.”

When she left, Hawke covered his face with his free hand and sighed. “Please tell me you don’t know her.”

Oops. “Guilty as charged,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Maker, you know everyone.” Hawke’s despair was a joke, but it still felt like something had been ruined. Just a little.

Ah well — there was still the rest of the night to get it back. Anders could salvage something in the walk down to Darktown, surely.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 12 - Bad Surprise [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Sometimes plans have to change.

Series Masterlist

Every job required something from people, and your job was no different.

Being a spy was not a conventional profession, everyone knew that. You were expected to be on the move all the time, be a good liar, be a good fighter, be whatever the job told you to.

And most important of all; never show fear, which you were usually fine with. You had learned long ago how to keep your calm in times of crisis. You had even managed to keep your calm facade when your last mission required you to play Russian Roulette with a target in order to keep your cover.

But this? This was something else.

Bucky cleared his throat to stifle a laugh as he looked down at you.

“Is it just me or are you using me as a human shield against a peacock right now?”

Your eyes snapped up at his for a moment before you turned your gaze to the peacock again, taking a subtle step to Bucky’s right to keep him between you and the animal.

Coming to the zoo was his idea, and you thought it could be a fun experience. You had never been to a zoo before, and it would count as one of the old times dates, so you were almost giggly by the time you got there.

Right until now.

“I think peacocks don’t have souls.”

“Alright.” Bucky sipped his coffee while you tried to ignore the fear bubbling at the pit of your stomach, eyeing the peacock that walked around the area behind the fences.

“I’m serious,” you insisted “What if it attacks me?”

“It’s not going to attack you Y/N.”

“It could,” you said, “It looks like it wants to attack me.”

The peacock fanned out its feathers all of a sudden and let out a squawk, making you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck!” the curse left your lips and Bucky’s eyebrows rose, an amused grin pulling at his lips.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “Sorry, I…I don’t trust peacocks.”

“You got mugged in a dark alley and got shot, and a bird is where you draw the line?”

Correction, you were once held at gunpoint by the Italian mafia and peacocks were still where you drew the line.

“That’s not a bird.”

“….Peacocks are birds.”

“No, that’s the devil looking like a bird,” you said, “In-in bird shape. Bird shaped demon.”

“Okay, how about we see some other less threatening animal?”

“Let me check—oh my God Bucky they have sharks, I love sharks!” you said, waving the brochure in his face and he pulled his brows together.

“Sharks fall under the less threatening animal category?”

“Of course they do!” you said, looking at the brochure before looking around, “I think the aquarium is over there, let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand to entwine your fingers with his as you both started walking towards the huge blue structure.

“So I feel like I shouldn’t ask because I know you can’t exactly tell me the details,” you said, “But you’re not going on another mission soon, are you? This week?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m kind of planning something.”

He tilted his head, “What are you planning?”

“Not a club, relax.” you said, “Although I find it quite ironic that you’re this unstoppable brave superhero with super strength who gets intimidated by dancing.”

“I’m not intimidated…” he grumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“Whatever you say,” you sang, and reached the entrance of the huge building and you pulled your hand out of his.

“Excuse me sir, is the aquarium still open?” you asked the security guard by the door and a small smirk appeared on his lips.

“Yes but it is closing in ten minutes sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Jesus Christ….

You smiled politely at him, batting your lashes.

“Oh—“ you took a look at the sign, “I just want to see the killer shark and we’ll be out. In five minutes. Please?”

He eyed you up and down but seemed to snap out of it when Bucky cleared his throat behind you as if warning him, making the guy gawk between you two.

Even you had to admit you seemed like a quite unusual couple. You were wearing a short white sundress with ruffled sleeves and sweetheart neckline with your hair loose while Bucky looked as if he was there to kill someone, a complete opposite of you with his dark jeans and black leather jacket as well as leather gloves.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was glaring at the guard before the guy shifted his weight, then stepped aside.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” you said, grabbing Bucky’s hand as you led him inside. He followed you without any objections whatsoever, in complete silence as the sight of blue filled your vision along with many fish swimming behind the glass.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” he asked softly and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

You approached the label by the glass, “You do.”

“Do I?”

“All the time,” you nodded, still reading the label but your head shot up when you felt him tug you by the hand. A giggle escaped from your lips as he turned you around so that you could look up at him, then wrapped his arm around you to scoop you up, making you squeal.

“Bucky!”

“All the time?”

“Put me down!” you said, your laughter echoing in the empty aquarium halls and he tilted his head.

“Not until you explain yourself,” he teased you, “All the time?”

“Sometimes, sometimes!” you said quickly, “Very rare times I might add!”

“Mm hm, I thought so.”

“If you drop me, I swear to God—“ you started but was cut off when he pulled you into a kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He took a step with you still in his embrace and you gasped as you felt your back hit the thick glass, but every single protest you could think of seemed to disappear from your mind as you lost yourself in the kiss. You raked your fingernails over the nape of his neck, making his grip around you tighter-

Then someone coughed.

Bucky pulled back instantly and you turned your head to see another rather annoyed technician leaning on her hip, watching you with her brows raised.

“Aquarium is about to close,” she said, pointing at you, “Take it elsewhere.”

Bucky put you down and you tried to fix the skirt of your dress, trying to look presentable.

“Sorry!” you said as Bucky mumbled an apology beside you as well, and the technician shook her head and walked away, talking about how she wasn’t getting paid enough for this. You covered your face and let out a whine but Bucky chuckled, causing you to lower your hands to stare up at him.

“Why is this entertaining for you?” you exclaimed and he held your wrist, gently steering you to the exit.

“Come on.”

“We can never come here again, ever.” you insisted as you followed him outside. It didn’t escape your notice that he bumped his shoulder into the security guard’s quite hard, almost knocking him over on your way out and your jaw dropped.

“That was mean!”

“Nah, he had it coming. Are you hungry?”

“But you could get in trouble. Besides, he was a nice guy—“

“Uh huh, a nice guy who was ogling you.”

You pulled your brows together, pretending to be confused, “Oh I’m sure you misunderstood.”

He tilted his head and pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your waist, then brushed his lips against yours, making you sigh.

“Bucky, it was mean and you can’t just kiss me to distract me—”

“I can try,” he murmured to your lips before kissing you again and you looked up at him when he pulled back with a grin.

“Fine,” you admitted, still pouting. “I’m hungry. Starving actually, let’s eat something.”

                                                    ***

You were finding it harder and harder to convince yourself it was time to go home after every date with Bucky.

Scratch that, you were finding it harder and harder not to invite him upstairs.

But of course, you would have to report it back to the General and discuss the further strategies with him and for some reason, it felt more of a betrayal than this whole thing.

Surprisingly enough, it was something you wanted and not something you would will yourself to do because of the mission. There was no denying it, he was an attractive guy and you really liked spending time with him and you kept having dreams about him and whenever you were with him you had this lightness in your mind, as if you were a different person.

A better person, maybe.

You shook your head at your thoughts and left your apartment to knock on Keith’s door.

“It’s me, open up.”

You heard footsteps before he opened the door and a boyish smile pulled at his lips at the sight of milkshakes in your hand.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I made it at home, can’t promise it’s good,” you said as you walked past him into his apartment and stepped into the living room, “What are you watching?”

“James Bond,” he grinned at you, “Hey, have you ever tried milkshake with gin?”

“No?”

“Me neither, let’s try it.” He said, taking the big glasses from you to pour gin into them. You sat on the couch and took a look at the screen.

“How many times have you watched this again?”

“Like a hundred,” he handed you your glass and you took a sip.

“Not bad,” you commented, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He sat beside you, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“What did you do today?”

“Had a date.”

“With Barnes?”

“Yeah. At the zoo.”

“He took you to the zoo?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And peacocks are fucking scary,” you muttered, “And hey, we learned that Bucky is the jealous type.”

“The guy was dating people back at 40s, I could tell you that much myself.” He snorted, “Chloe says you went on a mission with Julian?”

You slipped a little on the couch, “He’s an asshole.”

“I know. Is he really that bad in bed?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nah as much as I hate to admit, he’s pretty good. Unfortunately.”

“So top or bottom?”

“He goes either way to be honest, that comment was more about me.”

“About you?”

“Yeah, I like to be on top.”

“Suddenly everything about you makes sense,” he murmured and you took another sip of your milkshake.  

“Don’t try that with Barnes though, the guy is from 1940s. He’s probably used to missionary only, you don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he wiggled his brows, making you scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Chloe is right, maybe you should go full on vintage on that when the time comes.”

You turned to look at him.

“Speaking of Chloe,” you said, “Anything you would like to tell me?”

Keith’s grin faded slightly and he shifted his weight, “Like what?”

“Bringing her coffee, taking her out to the field…” you trailed off, “What gives, man? I thought we had a deal.”

“We never had a deal,” he defended himself, “You slammed me back during training years ago at the academy and told me not to even think about it when you saw me looking at her.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Five years ago, in Ireland. That undercover job, the one that almost got you killed? We made a deal.”

He swallowed thickly, looking down at the milkshake before taking a sip. “Y/N…”

“Keith, you can’t,” you insisted, “She deserves a normal life, a normal family and kids and a dog and stuff.”

“I know,” he ran a hand over his face, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a spy,” you said, “You said it yourself, spies die like flies.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “General is still alive. He has a family.”

“Yeah, one in a hundred,” you said, “Face it. That’s a very low possibility for us.”

“You don’t think you’ll get to grow old and have a family and all that?”

You pulled your brows together.

“No,” you said, “Of course not. I’m probably going to die in one of these missions.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Keith, I can’t have any of those,” you said, “I can’t. I…it’s impossible.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you muttered, “I made my choice ages ago.”

“Y/N,” he sat up straighter, “Do you want to?”

With a very bad timing, your imagination went overdrive and a strange scene flashed before your eyes. You laughing in Bucky’s arms, watching two kids playing in the garden-

You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

“I could never have that,” you stated simply, “You might love Chloe and you might also be lucky enough to have her love you but…it’s not the same with me.”

“I’d say Barnes loves you.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you bit inside your cheek, taking another sip of your milkshake.

“He loves someone who doesn’t exist,” you managed to croak out, “He loves my cover. He could never love me.”

                                                           ***

Spending the night at Keith’s and drowning your sorrows in gin and milkshake meant that you would have a killer hangover the next day. Unlike Keith, you didn’t have the luxury to sleep until the noon, seeing that you had a cover job to keep so for the whole day until noon, you walked around like a zombie.

Coffee helped though. Just a little.

Thankfully it was a slow day at the shop. After serving a couple of people, you had nothing to do other than seriously considering sticking your head in the freezer to get rid of the hangover.

“Long night?” Tara asked as she walked past you to put the straws into the cup and you nodded, groaning.

“Remind me not to drink, ever.”

“I make that promise to myself every Monday, does not seem to work.”

You chuckled, “Have you ever tried to mix gin into milkshakes?”

“No?”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you helped her to move an empty milkshake container into the kitchen. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m experiencing the consequences of that mistake right now.”

“That sounds like a fun night though.”

“Fun night, terrible morning,” you let out a laugh as you walked out of the kitchen but as soon as you did, your eyes caught the sight of the man in the shop. Your smile was wiped off your face as the familiar anger filled your system.

Jesus Christ, this day sucks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and Julian had the audacity to shoot you a grin.

“Whoa cute outfit,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Holy shit I didn’t even know I was into this whole thing, I’m having an epiphany.”

You looked over your shoulder to see if Tara was still in the kitchen, then turned to Julian.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was craving milkshakes,” he stated, “Hey, would you recommend Lavender Macaron?”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“I think I’m gonna go with Lavender Macaron, makes me think of France,” he said, “Fun times.”

“Fun for you maybe.”

He shot you a look, “Come on Y/N, we didn’t leave the honeymoon suite for two days. That was the greatest-“ he lowered his voice, “Mission I’ve ever had.”

“You’re putting this entire operation in—“ you started but stopped talking as soon as Tara walked out of the kitchen. Julian raised his brows for a moment before smiling at her and you went under the counter to grab his arm.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Just peachy,” you said as you dragged him out of the shop, and he heaved a sigh, following you.

“No I’m serious…” he said with a chuckle as soon as you both stepped outside, then motioned at the uniform, “This is something else.”

“Why are you here?”

“I heard that it was good, I did not think it was this good.”

“I’m seriously two seconds away from punching you.”

“How come you never dressed up like this for me when we were dating?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you insisted and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was around.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” he said, “Your shop has good rating, although I’m beginning to believe it has less to do with milkshakes and more about the waitresses.”

“Julian I swear to God—“ you started but you were cut off when someone cleared his throat, making both you and Julian turn your heads. Your stomach dropped as soon as you saw Bucky watching you two with a frown and you withdrew your hand from Julian’s arm.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, “Um-hi.”

“Hi,” he said without taking his eyes off Julian, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He was trying to decide whether he was a threat to you.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I figured I could drop by,” he said, crossing his arms, “What’s going on?”

Fuck.

Fuck, you had no idea how to turn this around. Thankfully neither of you had said anything about the mission, so it was more than likely that Bucky just knew you knew each other, but other than that, your cover wasn’t blown.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, he’s just—“ you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, “He’s um—“  

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be one of those secretive people,” Julian said, “You hate secrets. You’re Bucky, right? I heard about you.”

Bucky just raised his brows, his glare on him unwavering but even if it was quite chilling, Julian was a trained assassin just like you were, so he was used to it. Instead he curled his lips, looking between you before offering him his hand.

“I’m Julian,” he introduced himself, shooting you a grin as if you two shared an inside joke “The evil ex-boyfriend who’s gonna take her from you.”

Chapter 13

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

gods and the mortals they worship

A/N: honestly this idea started out due to the fact that scott and jack are gonna be housemates, and a friend and i were like "haha what if c!scott moved into Innit Hotel with jack" which turned into "haha what if c!scott was the god of mcc but he just seemed like a Dude to everyone else" which made my brain go brrr and think "haha what if god!scott and goddess!kristin met for tea" and then this fic happened. it got much angstier than i intended it to whoops

Warnings: implied/referenced temporary character death, grief/mourning, hugs, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: Kristin, the goddess of death. Scott, the god of champions. Two deities that at first glance, have nothing to do with the other. But all the same, the two deities are close friends, meeting for tea and talking about the mortals they adore. However, some conversations painfully remind them of the mortality of their loved ones.

-

Kristin rather enjoyed it when a fellow deity joined her for tea. Not many would, XD was a little wary of her, being her opposite in a sense. And his sister Drista visited her often enough, but the young goddess was a bit on the rambunctious side, which was expected for the trickster. But the deity's whose visits pleased her the most were Scott's. The god of champions was always lovely to chat with, and she looked forward to each event he organized- always rooting for her husband's team, of course.

They met for tea weekly, but this visit... something seemed off about Scott. He seemed cheery enough, talking about how he had recently moved into the Innit Hotel with Jack and the other servers he was drifting between. But there was a melancholy expression on his face for a brief moment as he traced the flower pattern on his teacup, and a lost, faraway expression would come over his face from time to time. These were expressions Kristin recognized all too well- grief. She saw it in the faces of many mortals when she called their loved ones to her side- and it was unnerving to say the least to see such an expression on a god's face.

"Who are you mourning?" she asked, startling Scott slightly. The god's ever color-shifting eyes refused to meet her.

"The loss of my mcc team, of course," Scott countered with a half-hearted smirk. Kristin gave him an expression of disbelief, and the smirk melted away to something more downcast as he fiddled with something on a chain around his neck. A ring.

"Oh Scott," she said softly.

"Tried the married life thing. It was nice, for a bit. But it was a modified hardcore world, and it didn't end well. For him... or for me," Scott said, hand drifting to his throat with a grimace. Kristin set down her tea, placing a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott had a unique position as a god- he was one of the few who felt the sting of death. As he willingly lived among mortals most of the time, his godly power had to be diminished to do so. Which meant he could die- but it would never truly stick for him. Granted, death didn't really stick for most of the crowd he stuck around with. They would be reborn into other servers, maybe retaining impressions of the ones before- but Scott was the only one who truly remembered each server he had been on.

"I'm so sorry. Is he..." Kristin trailed off, unsure if she wanted to know if Scott's husband had been reborn into a different server.

"He's on another server with me now. Empires SMP. Calls himself the Codfather these days. I keep hoping he'll remember... but I don't know if I want him to," Scott said, eyes watery.

"Why not?" Kristin asked. If she was in a similar situation with Phil, she absolutely would want him to remember her.

"Because what kind of god can't even keep his husband alive?! I couldn't protect him before, who says I could do it now. Besides with my luck, by the time he'd remember me, I'd only lose him again. Why waste the effort on more heartbreak," Scott said, something vengeful in his tone. The aura around him tinged red, and Kristin drew her hand back with a jolt. Scott took notice of his surroundings, and with a sheepish smile his aura shifted to something more neutral and warm.

"That's why you're hiding in the Dream SMP with Jack, isn't it? You don't want to risk him remembering," Kristin asked softly. Scott let out a sigh.

"I'm not... hiding, exactly. Just lying low, somewhere where I don't have to pretend I'm not a god," Scott explained with a faraway glance.

“What if you were to tell this... Codfather," Kristin suggested. Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust in the name.

"Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," Scott corrected, sounding reverent as he murmured his name the second time. It was almost silly, a god worshipping the ground a mortal walked on- not that Kristin was one to talk. But then again, Phil wasn't exactly mortal.

"Then why don't you tell Jimmy the truth about who you are," Kristin prodded. Few knew the truth about Scott's godly status- Phil, most notably, and Wilbur. And now, she supposed, all who were on the Dream SMP. Otherwise, most knew Scott as someone who had a connection to the god of champions, and carried out his invitations to the games- not that Scott himself was the god in question.

"I... I don't know. Maybe it's safer for him if he never knows," Scott said with a sigh. Kristin squinted at him suspiciously.

"Scott, I've known you for centuries. Tell me the real reason you don't want to tell him," she said pointedly. Scott laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. With a deep breath, his expression settled into something more solemn.

"I don't want things to be different between us. I liked the way it was, on that modified hardcore world. We had a flower valley, with a pond and overgrowth and- and his silly insistence on wanting to protect me, like I was the fragile one, not him. I even experienced a brief afterlife with him, after we had lost all our lives on that world. And that... that was beautiful. But then things reset, and he was reincarnated. And how could I not follow him?" Scott said wistfully. His eyes shone with bittersweet tears, a fond smile on his face.

"You truly have the heart of a mortal, my friend," Kristin said with a soft smile. Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well I certainly can't let anyone know that, think of my reputation," he joked. Kristin laughed.

"Oh please, we all know how much you cherish your champions," she teased.

"Don't tell a soul," Scott said in a mock-serious tone.

"Oh please, the only souls I know are dead ones," Kristin replied with a chuckle. Scott laughed too, but it fell short as his eyes landed on the flowers that decorated the teacups.

"I think the worst part is that he sees me as an enemy. I guess rightfully so, I pushed him away because I was afraid of letting him back in. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes if we end up on the opposite sides of a battle," Scott said, voice fragile as the delicate teacups on the table before them.

"Maybe there's still time to make amends. You could extend some token of peace towards him?" Kristin suggested gently.

"Maybe. I just..." Scott trailed off.

"You just want to mope around in a world of constant hardship and destruction?" Kristin teased lightly, smirking. Scott laughed.

"I guess the Dream SMP isn't the greatest place to hide out," he said, still chuckling. Kristin was relieved to see her friend back to his more genuine smiley self, multicolored eyes glinting with amusement.

"Maybe not. Are Phil and Wilbur staying out of trouble?" Kristin asked, picking her tea back up to sip at. Scott laughed again.

"Staying out of trouble is asking a lot for your family. But I think Phil has forced Wilbur to make friends with Ranboo," he replied, picking up his tea as well.

"Oh? How did that go?" Kristin asked.

"Not sure, honestly. I think they opened a burger place? I've mostly been keeping to myself in the Innit Hotel," Scott said with a shrug.

"I'm sure Tommy loves that," Kristin said dryly.

"Oh yes, cussed me out until I threatened to not let him on mcc anymore. He changed his tune pretty quickly," Scott laughed.

"Doesn't Jack actually own the hotel now?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but Tommy doesn't seem to know that," Scott answered with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure he'll get over it. Probably still a little jumbled from being brought back," Kristin muttered, unable to help looking miffed at that. She wasn't exactly fond of people being torn from her domain, especially by an overzealous mortal and the god who he eerily resembled. Although she couldn't exactly blame XD, the book had called him and he was forced to answer.

“Maybe life and death shouldn’t be toyed with anymore,” Scott said softly, after a few beats of silence. Kristin thought of Scott’s struggles with death and rebirth, then thought of her own family. Her husband who survived and lived, never dying- and her son, who fought and died, but ended up living.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining,” Kristin replied, voice coming out more melancholy than she meant it to. Scott looked to her with brows creased in sympathy.

“What a pair we make,” he said with a humorless laugh. Kristin laughed too, just as bleak as Scott’s own laugh.

“The goddess of death whose loved ones live, and the god of champions whose loved ones lose,” she said, voice forlorn. Scott set down his tea, dropping his gaze from Kristin’s.

“I do tend to be drawn towards the lost ones, don’t I?” he said with a weak smile.

“Nothing wrong with rooting for the underdog,” Kristin pointed out with a shrug. Scott looked at the flowers on the teacups, and his smile was a bit brighter this time around, less sad and bittersweet.

“I guess not. Maybe you’re right, maybe there is time to smooth things out with Jimmy,” Scott said, looking back up at Kristin.

“Good! Being mopey doesn’t suit you. And telling him the truth couldn’t hurt either,” Kristin insisted brightly. Scott rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Okay Mumza, no need to get on my case. I said I’d try and smooth things over, not reveal that I’m an all-powerful god that was married to him once because I like playing mortal,” he replied, dragging out her nickname with a teasing grin. Kristin grinned back.

“I guess your situation is a little different than when I told Phil I was a goddess,” she said semi-sheepishly.

“Phil was also hopelessly head-over-heels for you when you told him. Jimmy is decidedly not,” Scott pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh Jimmy will come around eventually. If he knows what’s good for him,” Kristin said, sipping at her tea. Scott blinked at her in confusion.

“Are you threatening my ex-husband?” he asked, tone so adorably baffled that Kristin couldn’t help but laugh.

“All I meant was that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Any man would be lucky to have captured your attention," she clarified with a teasing grin. Scott flushed in embarrassment, the aura around him tinging pink.

“You’re acting like an embarrassing mum trying to convince her son to get out there and start dating,” Scott huffed, trying to play off his flusteredness.

“You’re the one who called me ‘Mumza,’” Kristin pointed out, still grinning.

“This is rude, I’m being attacked and you’re twisting my words against me now-” Scott cut off with a laugh, unable to keep up the mock-offended act as his aura shifted back to being a neutral warm color. Scott finally looked the most himself that he had been all day- aura full of warmth, a smile on his face, and color-shifting eyes sparkling.

“Oh, whatever will you do?” Kristin teased. Scott shook his head, picking up his tea and finishing it off with one last sip before standing from the table.

“I think I’m gonna leave, actually. It’s about time I head out anyway,” Scott said. Kristin looked at how low her own tea had gotten, and sighed before standing with a gentle smile.

“Well as always, it was wonderful to have you. I hope everything works out,” she said softly, holding out her arms. Scott hugged her without hesitation, and Kristin got the feeling he was silently thanking her for her advice through the hug.

“See you next week?” Scott asked after he pulled away.

“I look forward to it,” Kristin replied. Scott smiled, giving a two-fingered salute before disappearing in a burst of color. The lightshow faded, leaving Kristin in her rather gloomy domain. The loneliness after a fellow deity left was always the worst, and the heavy conversation from before didn’t help matters much. Scott and Kristin were very similar beings for two deities that ruled over extremely different things- both of their hearts were too big, too smitten with mortals. Scott could at least compete alongside mortals if he so chose, but Kristin was in a plane of existence that her loved ones could only reach through tragedy. Perhaps Scott had it worse- Kristin could at least distance herself from mortals, while Scott stubbornly refused to. But all the same, Kristin was hopeful that things would work out for the god of champions. And maybe, things would work out for her family as well.

-

MCYT Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[newtonsheffield]

Hard to believe but I think among the some 300 fanfics out there no one did a what-if Edmund never died. Probably because the premise of the whole story was edmunds death and what wld be the conflict if not that? However, I think it would make a brilliant story since I am pretty sure Anthony as Mr. Bridgerton wouldve been an even bigger rake. So, maybe you can write it? Pretty please with cute corgis on top? Preferably set in the regency era, it can just a Drabble, nothing more. But I want to see it take some form. Who knows maybe someone else will get inspired to write it if not you.

Okay So... Apparently I couldn't bloody help myself.

You owe me two cute Corgis anon. (Please forgive me for how bad I am at writing in regency)

Anthony sighed to himself as he stood in the corner of the ballroom in his family home. Not Hiding per se, That would be undignified for a future Viscount, Anthony reasoned, merely keeping a low profile. He'd promised his mother he would attend, and at least pretend to look interested but really, it wasn't to be born. Anthony saw Mrs Featherington set her sights on him, tugging her daughters in his direction, Anthony bit back a groan, casting around for someone with whom he might enter conversation, panic rising slightly as she drew closer.

"I do hope you're not attempting to sneak out early, Anthony." Anthony sighed, turning towards the voice. "I wouldn't dream of it father." Edmund, Viscount Bridgerton's face lit up as he laughed jovially, clapping his son on the shoulder. Anthony huffed as his father said. "You did promise to indulge your mother tonight I believe, I heard it was in penance for being rather late to the house party last week." His father said pointedly. Anthony flushed slightly at the light admonishment from his father. "I arrived in time for the final day." He muttered shame faced. His father chuckled. "And I'm sure whatever detained you was very amusing, son. However we have a duty to honour our commitments as gentlemen. Do we not?" He asked, his tone firm. Lord Bridgerton was speaking now. Anthony nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"And that rather includes humouring your mother where dance partners are concerned, I'm afraid." He said, Anthony's father once more. "I hope you're not telling your son to be as cheeky as you are, Lord Bridgerton." A voice said to their left. Anthony rolled his eyes. She'd found him. "Oh I'd never dream of it, Lady Bridgerton." Anthony watched his parents closely, their eyes sparkling as they looked at one another, the picture of marital bliss, and something deep inside Anthony ached. Ached to be so happy and settled and sure of one's partner.

His eyes drifted around the room his parent's voices filtering into the background and then he saw her. A striking woman was standing, some distance across the room, her skin glowing in the candlelight bouncing off her high cheekbones, her spine straight and proud. Beautiful Anthony's subconscious echoed. And he couldn't help himself. "Who is that?" The words had left him before they'd fully formed in his mind. His mother's head spun in his direction, her eyebrows raised. "Who, Darling?" "The young woman, with dark hair, by the Featheringtons." Mrs Featherington had retreated from her pursuit but was still casting hopefully looks in his direction.

Lady Bridgerton sighed "A Miss Edwina Sharma. Newly arrived with her mother and sister from Somerset." Yes, Anthony could see her talking with another pretty young woman, and a woman who must be her mother. "Her mother is an earl's daughter, married a tradesmen, who has since passed. Rather a popular young Lady this season." His mother finished pointedly. And the look on her face was unbearable, but Anthony couldn't help himself. "Excuse me, Mother, Father." Anthony said, turning away from their identical grins, his most charming smile working it's way on to his face as he picked his way through the crowded ballroom.

"How Do you Do?" Anthony heard his voice ring out and two pairs of dark eyes turned in his direction, and then, much slower, the woman, Miss Edwina Sharma he corrected, slowly turned towards him, her eyebrow raised, Surprised. Lady Sharma spoke first "Very Well Sir. And You?" "Very Well. Forgive the intrusion, Lady Sharma. My mother, Lady Bridgerton, mentioned you were newly in town for the season and I thought to introduce myself." He said politely, his eyes flicking in Edwina's direction, she was casting an odd, almost exasperated look at her sister, who appeared several years younger. Lady Sharma smiled politely, gesturing to her daughter's in approval. "Mr Anthony Bridgerton." He said, smiling his most charming smile, the one that always made ladies flutter their eyelashes at him. "And you must be Miss Edwina Sharma." He finished, "I am, Yes." She replied politely, although, it was the wrong she. Miss Edwina Sharma was standing to his intended's left, her younger sister apparently. Anthony cursed himself.

Edwina Sharma for her part, looked a little surprised at having ben addressed at all. Anthony floundered, a little unsure how to continue. He recovered quickly, turning back to the woman who had stayed silent, her brow furrowed slightly. "And might I enquire after your name, Miss?" Anthony said, refusing to allow himself to be ruffled by the odd turn of events. And still the woman stayed silent, her eyes narrowing. "Might I present my elder daughter, Mr Bridgerton? Katharine." Katharine. That certainly seemed to fit her better. Regal. His smile grew. "Miss Sharma." He said with a small bow. "Mr. Bridgerton." A curtsy. Her voice firm, unemotional.

"Miss Sharma, I wondered if I might engage you for the next? Have you permission to waltz?" He kept his voice light, maintaining eye contact. One of her eyebrows was in danger of disappearing into her hair altogether now, she opened her mouth "Kate would be delighted." Her sister cut across her, a broad warm smile on her face. Kate the name seemed to echo through him. Kate seemed to sigh, resigned, taking his proffered hand as he lead her to the floor.

His hand light on her back, electricity coursing through him as the dance began, moving in time to the music. "Forgive me for my forwardness, Miss Sharma but I-" Anthony started, desperate to know something about her. "And I hope you'll forgive mine in return Mr. Bridgerton when I ask you to keep your distance." Her tone stiff, Anthony's heart stuttered even as her foot stomped on his. "You see, your reputation proceeds you, sir. And I'd rather my family not have their reputations linked with one such as yours." Her tone was clipped, her eye contact defiant. And he should have been angry, indignant but dear god, What a woman. Her eyes seemed to go on forever, layer after intelligent layer. Anthony scoffed. "I assure you, Miss Sharma, my reputation has been vastly exaggerated." It had been slightly. Miss Sharma laughed as the dance came to an end.

"I'm not sure I care to find out, Mr. Bridgerton. Merely being in your presence this long has surely tarnished me in some way." Her eyes were shining with her own joke now. And she was witty as well, something deep inside Anthony burned. "That rather sounds like a challenge." Her eyebrow raised again. "And do you enjoy those, sir?" "Why don't I call on you tomorrow and you can find out?" He couldn't stop the smirk from his face at the surprise written plainly on her own. Tension seemed to build between them, their eyes locked together. Her breath caught oddly. "I shan't hold my breath Mr. Bridgerton." And then she'd dropped his arm, stepped back from his presence and was making her way back through the throng leaving Anthony staring after her.

"Careful, brother. Mother's planning a wedding breakfast." Benedict's amused voice said in his ear. Anthony finally took a breath. "Perhaps she should."

Again there will never be any more of this, but what a thrill

[legends-live-in-memories]

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation. 

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day. 

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No. 

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her. 

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public. 

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears? 

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off. 

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—” 

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking. 

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation. 

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him. 

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already. 

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity. 

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait. 

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl. 

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy. 

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

The Night of the First Mistake

Sequel to

Synopsis: pre X-orcist, almost a year after Nightmare's death, Dream is still not on top of his grief and causes him to resort to desperate measures.

Tw mentions of death/dead loved ones.

X-orcist au belongs to me and @zu-is-here

Dreams, Demons and Desires is by me.

Enjoy

Almost a year had past since he'd last seen Nightmare. The skeleton couldn't say he had mourned him, but the news of his death had been unfortunate to say the least. Who could have seen someone like Nightmare dying in such a preventable way? Not him, that's for sure.

He was a friend... Or at least a friendly acquaintance, clearly he'd not been quite close enough to Night's inner circle to be invited to the funeral. He'd never even met Night's brother. Despite that, the news of his parting had deeply saddened him and every so often, he thought of him with a sigh.

A good customer and a good person.

This evening, Nightmare played at his thoughts again, probably drudged up by the anniversary of the accident approaching, he hadn’t meant to make note of the day, but he had. a few weeks would be the anniversary of the day he heard the news. 

He thought back to a year ago, a few weeks before his death. The words he’d said about his brother and the increasing frustration about his sinful thoughts. Killer didn't judge him for such feelings, he was no stranger to sin.

Other then that, there was nothing at all strange about this night.

Tonight, just like any night, he was in his shop and the counter. It was a cold October and pretty soon he'd be closing up.

It was dark and chilly in his shop and had a strangely pungent smell, which hit the moment you walked in. A mix of crushed herbs and spices, old books and stale coffee.

An old set of scales sat on the counter top in front of him, as did a till, several glass jars and containers and a large collection of dirty coffee mugs.

Behind him there was a large book case full of many strange books. Ones with faded titles, ones with thick leather bindings, some with large strains spreading across the covers or pieces missing. If you asked him, he'd liked to have said that he'd read all of them... But there were a few he hadn't. He wasn't much of a reader outside of this collection.

As he nursed yet another cup of coffee from the café next door, he tapped his slender skeleton fingers on the counter top. He was bored.

With a glance at the clock, he decided today that he could close up early. It was his shop after all, he made the rules. A small collection of trinkets and charms hung around his neck and clinked together against his old coat, as he got to his feet.

Just as he prepared to take today's earnings from the till to count it, he heard the door and a jingle of the shop bell, indicating someone had entered.

He set an empty eye socket in their direction as they froze, looking nervous.

The person was new, but also something about them was strangely familiar. After scanning them for a moment, his face twisted into a sly smile upon realising who the new comer could be. He turned his face to them fully, staring his pitch eyes right through them. They tensed, which amused him slightly.

"well hello Little Light.... How may I help you"

Dream seemed taken back slightly by the pet name. It wasn't something he was used to. His hands fused with the fastening on his coat.

"uhh Hello.....I’m..... Uh.."

The shop keep chuckled again. Such nervous behaviour wasn't something he saw often from his customers. Looks like it was going to be an interesting night and to think, he was going to close up.

"nervous Lil light?"

Dream once again tensed and shuddered slightly.

"Please.... Don't call me that" he stammered slightly before taking a breath "My name is Dream"

The shop keepers grin got even wider and it made a chill run up Dream's spine. There was something extremely unnerving about this skeleton. Maybe it was the emptiness of his eyes or the strange carvings around them, but Dream was sure that it was more then that.

The atmosphere of the shop was very unsettling and kind of cramped in Dream’s opinion. There were many trinkets, stones, crystals and small animal bones stacked neatly on the shelves. It was this, along with bags of salt and bundles of sage and garlic, that reassured him he was in the right place for what he needed. 

"Dream huh?.... Thought so" he said in a low tone "I'm so glad to finally meet you"

The nervous shifting of his hands continued, as Dream once again tensed even further. He was acting friendly, but it still felt ever so slightly...off.

"h-how do you know me?"

"I knew your brother and I'd recognise that pendant I sold him anywhere" he said, with his eyes looking at Dream's chest.

Dreams fingers quickly shot to the star charm hanging from his neck, and gripped it tight. Looks like this was the right place.

"Not to mention there's your golden eyes" he  continued, shifting his gaze straight into Dream's eye sockets. It was strange how Dream knew where he was looking, even without eye lights.

"he often talked about them......He was right when he said they were very beautiful if I do say so myself~"

Dreams face blushed slightly, but he felt a familiar twist in this chest at the mention of Nightmare and a sinking feeling when he was reminded how Night felt about him. His brother had often complimented his eyes.....

He'd just never really understood it was more then brotherly affection. At least until now.

"I.... Uh" Dream said before clearing his throat "You're Killer.... Aren't you?"

Flexing his fingers, Killer nodded. The grin didn't leave his face.

"looks like my reputation proceeds me"

Dream let go of his necklace and a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I thought it might be you.... Based off something he wrote in his diary".

Before Night's accident, Dream had never even considered reading his diary. That was just a basic code of conduct. However, after his death, it became something Dream had often thought about. The diary, and everything else Nightmare owned, now belonged to him. For that reason he'd taken the book out of Nightmare's room.

However, he'd just kept it on his bedside table for almost a year before he finally had the courage to read it.

It had mostly been a fond look over some old memories, some good and some bad. But there were also passages about his feelings for Dream, sometimes written confessions addressed him. Every word was full of truth, longing and pain. Dream had felt it all.

Those had been hard to read, but he'd not skipped a single page and read them each through several times.

Nearer the end of the book, Nightmare had started talking about his interest in the supernatural. Dream remembered his twin getting fascinated in that and spending long evenings talking with him about it over tea and biscuits.

One thing Dream hadn't known about, where his trips to the next town over, where he wrote about finding this shop and the shop keep. This had been where the interest started. It was this that had lead Dream to come here.

"right..." Killer said, downing what was left in his coffee mug and setting in on the counter top.

"well.... What can I help you with?"

Yeah.. Nightmare had written that Killer was always one to cut to the point. Dream knew that what he was going to ask sounded insane and he wasn't even fully sure if Killer was the right person to ask. But at this point he was desperate, he just needed to know. With his grip returning to his brothers pendent, he remembered who he was doing this for.

He took a deep breath.

"Can you bring people back from the dead?"

Killer didn't react visibly to that. But he drew out a long silence. After a little Dream was sure he saw his jaw clench. The silence was completely deafening, broken only by the sound of Killer's fingers tapping the counter top. Dream figured that he was probably struggling to think what to say. After what felt like a life time, he spoke.

"I specialise in charms and equipment for preventative measures to stop spirits inhabiting homes....I do not....." he paused

"I don't try and bring the dead to the living realms".

Dreams face fell. He really shouldn't have been so disappointed, it was a crazy ask. But with the way Killer spoke and what he sold in the shop, he'd felt so close to what he wanted. But maybe it really was just impossible.

He felt tears threatening to spill, he just couldn't take all this guilt anymore. All he wanted to do was tell his brother he was sorry. That night. That kiss. That dam horribly wonderful kiss...and that car. 

"however...." Killer continued.

Dream felt hope flush through at those words and stood up slightly straighter. Killer turned his back to dream and started looking over the bookshelves behind the counter.

He didn't say a word, as Dream curiously watched him. He ran his thumb across the spines of several of the oldest and most dusty looking of them, eventually plucking out a large leather bound book with silver straps.

He walked back over, blowing dust off it as he did, and set it down on the counter with a light thud. The cover was extremely dusty and the leather was cracked and split in several places, yet the title still read fairly clearly and Dreams felt his heart skipped a beat.

The Practice of a Necromancer. Vol one of three. Summoning, Controlling and Banishing.

"I've not read this one fully, but it's been in my collection for years.... I suppose this would be the right place to look"

With that, he slowly opened the book and very carefully started to turn its pages. The paper was completely yellowed and clearly very fragile. There were no photographs, only hand done drawings of various items and also what looked like people, but with strange and uncanny faces. There were also other frightening images that Dream was trying not to look at.

Killer eventually stopped and ran his finger across a page.

"ah ha" he said "to summon a spirit into the living world"

He read over the text for a moment, as Dream watched impatiently. Killer knitted his non-existent eyebrows and narrowed his eyes.

"this stuff sounds overly complicated to me..... so I guess I'm not sure really"

But Dream didn't really seem to be playing much attention to Killer's words now. He was so desperately trying to read the text upside-down. Reading was something that Dream always struggled with anyway, so reading upside down would be near impossible. He reached forward to try and pull the book to him.

But he jumped back in surprise as Killer slapped his hand across the book, sending some dust into the air.

"now now now not so hasty Lil Light" he said returning back to a sweet tone, as he said the a pet name that made Dream's toes curl.

In his haste Dream had forgotten that this was a shop, not a library, so of course he wouldn't just hand it over.

The smaller skeleton knew that the book was probably pricey so it's not like Killer would just let him have it. It was clearly very old and Dream worried that he wouldn't have enough for it, but if he had to pay all the money he had to buy it. He would.

Reaching inside of his pocket, Dream pulled out a bundle of paper money and placed it on the counter and next to the book. Killer looked at it for a moment, before he took it and counted how much money was in the bundle. He ran his fingers across the notes, looking as if he was very tempted and contemplating his next move.

But then, much to Dream's disappointment, he put it back down on the counter.

"I don't want your money dream... That's not what I meant"

An unhappy wine left Dream's mouth, as Killer proceeded to hand his money back to him. Just as he was about to ask why, Killer cut him off.

"it's not for sale"

"but what if I just borro-

"or for rent or loan"

Dreams soul twisted. This felt so Incredibly unfair. He wasn't ever one to really get angry or feel hatred for people. But why had Killer gotten this book down if he didn't intend to sell it? Was he just trying to mess with him?

It was that moment that he wasn't sure he really liked Killer all that much.

He sighed.

"h-how come? Can I do anything to change your mind?"

Killer sadly shook his head.

"Dream....... I like to read the stuff for research purposes not for a practical use"

Dream opened his mouth to object, but killer silenced him.

"and I don't care what you say... but I don't think you're just interested in the topic"

Dream tried very hard not to show disappointment on his face, but of course Killer picked up on it. It upset him that his intentions were so easy to guess. Then again he'd opened with 'can you bring people back from the dead'.

He really should have asked in a different way. Feeling like an idiot, he tried to say that he wasn't intending to use the book in practice. But Killer once again shook his head.

He stood up slightly and gave Dream a sympathetic look, or a sympathetic as he could make it through his cold eyes.

"look....I know you miss him and that's ok I've lost people myself to" he said in a uncharacteristically gentle tone, which sounded fake. 

Dream looked at his feet.

"but the dead need to be left dead. Trying to bring them back never ends well, Nightmare wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to help him"

Dreams eyes stayed fixed on the floor, not wanting to look at killer any longer. He didn't want him to see him cry. He didn't want to look like a baby. Just as he was going to try arguing again, behind him he heard the shop door open and the bell ring

He looked back at Killer seeing he'd straightened up.

"K-killer...." came a soft but slightly panicked voice.

Curiously, Dream looked over his shoulder at the source of the voice. It was another skeleton stood by the door.

In all his life, Dream had never seen someone look to tired. They seem to be slightly younger then Dreams age but it was hard to tell how much. Their appearance was clearly young, but the huge bags under their eyes aged their face several years. The most notable thing about them was that their eye lights where small, indicating that they were on edge.

They were wearing a oversized cream knitted sweater and had a maroon scarf decorated with a paw print pattern tide around their neck. They fiddled with it as their eyes a looked at Killer and then to Dream.

From where he was, Dream could also see them wearing several of the necklaces and charms that Killer a sold, as well as a few layers of bandages around their arms.

Killer hastily exited from behind the counter and approached them.

"Hey Cappuccino......." he said, trying again to sound soft.

Ccino wasted no time in burying his head to Killers chest and wrapping his arms around him.

In response, Killer stumbled slightly and looked momentarily taken back and very uncomfortable. After a moment he sigh, before gently placing an hand on his back.

"hey.....it's ok ya wimp... I'm guessing they're back right?"

Ccino simply nodded, Killer sighed.

"Dream can you show yourself out? I've got to take care of this, we're closing anyway. I'm sorry I couldn't help you better"

As Killer attempted to comfort the shaking skeleton, Dream turned his attention back to the book in front of him. It was just within his reach, the page was tantalising.

It was so clear, a set instructions of the exact thing he'd need to do to reach his goal. 

Killer's warning played in his mind. 

But he knew what he was doing right? It was his brother, what did Killer really know about what Nightmare would have wanted. He didn't know how.... Close... They were. At least he thought he knew.

It was a split second choice.

As Killer continued to try and comfort his companion, he saw Dream hastily exit the shop without saying another word. He stared at the door.

It didn't feel right. 

He narrowed his eyes and stepped back from Ccino slightly.

"hang on"

He walked back to the counter and was relieved to see that the book was still there, however a moment later he noticed something else that make him freeze and curse under his breath.

"what's wrong?" Ccino asked, walking up next to him.

Killer didn't answer and instead picked up his book and looked at it closely to confirm what he saw. When he saw he was right, he near growled.

"Killer?" Ccino asked not seeing the problem.

"look....."Killer said quietly.

He ran his finger down the spine where the pages joined together. Once you looked closely you could see the remnants of torn paper sticking out.

"he took the page"

references coming soon.

[dearkusuo]

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed. 

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along. 

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun. 

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future. 

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret. 

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

 You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him. 

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again. 

 The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook. 

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face. 

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit. 

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum. 

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision? 

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

 You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out. 

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home. 

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes. 

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

[diavolosthots]

Hello, lovely writer 💙 If you like, might you please write a scene of mc x satan having a movie night? Just lots of cuddles, kissing and fluff. 🥰 Thank you thank you, darling, and please don’t feel any pressure to write this if it doesn’t spark anything 💙 Happy holidays! 🥰 And thank you!

***REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN THIS IS FROM LAST TIME***

imma be real this idea was sparked by my friend who said she never watched HP/Marvel/Star Wars/LOTR/any other major movie franchise... Lol

Uneducated (SATAN X GN!READER)

For someone who’s so intelligent he’s actually pretty uneducated. How could he miss the major franchises of the past like… 50 years?! What good does it do you when you’re alive for literally ever and you don’t even know the basics like Harry Potter and Star wars?! Especially Harry Potter… he calls himself a bookworm, a nerd, and has never even read the books. Unbelievable. You still stared at him in disbelief days later. Star Wars? You might excuse, he doesn’t really seem to be the Star Wars type… but he should’ve at least heard of it! You figured he must at least watch one of the franchises, and if he hates it after the first movie… you may be somewhat more accepting. “I read the books.” He held up all seven Harry Potter books, smiling proudly, “in just a couple of days, to prepare for our movie marathon. I was debating on if I should go in blindsided but I figured the movies didn’t do the books justice so… I took it upon myself to read them.” Of course he would do so. “Well… you’re not wrong. How did you like them?” 

He liked them, a lot. You had to sit through a whole three hour presentation of why he believes Snape is treated unfairly and Draco is misunderstood; however, his favorites were actually the twins, Fred and George Weasley, “they should’ve been there a lot more. The true backbones of the books and, presumably, the movies.” Well, you wouldn’t go that far but you let him believe that. “Alright… well, sit.” You patted the spot beside you, thankful that Satan managed to hide a T.V. in his room where he watched all the shows he usually does. You pulled some pillows onto the floor, pushing some of the books aside that will probably never find a proper home on any of the shelves. “I think… hm.. You might like the movies for visual reasons.” “Please, (Y/N). I already drew out everything in my head as I read the books. If it’s not like I imagined, the movies will be thrown out.” You bit your tongue, not wanting to be quite so obvious in the fact that the movies should’ve been thrown out, anyway. 

It didn’t take long for him to start arguing about how the movies do a terrible representation of the books and… it was more amusing than anything. Admittedly, you shouldn’t have laughed as much as you did, but it was just so funny to see him get all riled up, all angry and then letting it out toward the screen, “Satan! Hey! I know… sshh… calm down…” you were still laughing when you managed to cradle him in your arms, not really keeping him there with much strength, but you at least wanted him to stop yelling at the screen. He fake struggled, whining a bit more against you, “(Y/N)... These movies are distasteful! We’re only two movies in and… what happened to Arthur punching Lucius!? I was looking forward to it…!” He let himself be pulled into your lap, letting your arms push his face into your chest as he pouted. Of course, he wasn’t upset about it, but he does like being babied by you because you do it so well. Plus, you were comfortable and he’d be a fool to pretend anything else. 

“Yeah? Just wait when you see what happened in the Marvel movies vs. the comic books.” He shakes his head, lifting it up from your chest to look at you, a small smirk gracing his lips before he pushes you down onto your back, letting himself fall on top of you, “You’re trying to get me even more riled up, aren’t you? Is that your goal? Speak, (Y/N). I need to know.” A smirk of your own matched his, your hands sneaking up to run through his hair, “hm… maybe? I just like it when you get close.” A teasing roll of his hips against yours, although it stopped immediately after, his head dropping down onto your chest again. As a matter of fact, his whole body dropped onto you and you grunted a little at the added weight, “oof! S-Satan… you’re heavy..!” “are you calling me fat? You need to apologize.” He’s just messing around of course, “Apologize…? Satan get off!” But he didn’t even budge, just looking back down at you, “kiss me and I might.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing again because he’s being so extra and… a little needy. Sometimes he had these random moments where he wants to be like every couple on T.V.; dorky, cute, rolling around on the floor for seemingly no reason. “Fine, one kiss,” and you couldn’t help but oblige to his wishes. His head slowly dipped down and you grabbed it with your hands, kissing his lips repeatedly as a laugh escaped him. You matched it, giggling from your own actions before pampering his whole face with kisses, “muah! There. Was that enough?” He seemed to be in thought, smiling down at you. A soft pink was caressing his cheeks and he quickly rolled over, taking you with him so that you landed up on top instead, “hm… almost. Come here, kitten.” His arms wrapped around you tightly, squeezing you against him and you swore you heard your back crack, “T-Too tight… Satan… can’t breathe…” “Good. the less you can breathe the less you can squirm. I’ll make you my perfect little cuddle buddy.” Was that a death threat? Wide eyes looked up at him, but he only laughed loudly, his head falling back in amusement. 

“Are you trying to kill me?!” He was still laughing, unwrapping his arms from around you to cover his face. His whole body was shaking beneath you and you frowned, tickling his sides because you might as well have fun with it, but the beautiful sound of his voice laughing abruptly stopped when he took his hands in yours, rolling you back over and looking down at you with a stern face, “... only with love.” His eyes were sparkling with mischief, a smug smirk gracing his lips now and before you knew it, his own hands were tickling you instead; his kind of love. At least he wasn't ranting about Harry Potter anymore.

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 6

OKAY! I'm just ready to see this story done, SO right or wrong, good or bad, we are going to keep chugging along and hope it ends up halfway decently XD.

<Previous Next >

16. Purring

It had been a revelation that had shaken Ladybug to her core. Chat… was dying?

He stayed silent, waiting for her to speak first.

“Chat…” Any and all words after that died on her tongue.

“That’s why I can’t be your cat anymore,” he said, voice ragged as though he was exhausted. “Because I have to get rid of this ring as soon as possible.”

“Then let’s look for a solution together.”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” she challenged.

“I have to do this on my own. This is my problem—”

“You’re my partner,” she countered. “Your problems are my problems, too.”

He sighed, looking weaker by the second. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Then why don’t you trust me to help you?” she begged, on the verge of tears. “Why are you cutting me out like this?”

He paused, his eyes avoiding hers as he lost himself in thought. “I have my reasons.”

“And they are?”

“Personal.”

Oh, dammit, Chat.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still not meeting her eyes. “But it’s better this way.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“I do, though.”

She grit her teeth, the pain in her heart growing the harder Chat drew the line between them.

“Trust me on this, bug,” he said, finally lifting his hazy gray-green gaze to her. “The backlash of my actions will come back to only me, and I don’t want you in the way.”

“I’d be willing to—”

“Oh, I know you would,” he cut in. “And that’s the problem. You…” He sucked in a breath. “You and Marinette both. You care far too much about people who are hurting. It’s not wrong, but… for people hurting to suddenly have safe havens like you is both the biggest relief and biggest weakness. Because if anything happens to that safe haven, we’re left with nothing. Mentally, it’s easier to leave the safe haven so it stays safe instead of watching it fall to ruin. Do you get what I’m saying, bug?”

The whiplash his words gave her made her head spin. She was sure he’d said other things before to that affect but never so clear for her to understand something she really couldn’t comprehend. “But… I can still be your safe haven even if you lean on me. I just help you get through all the other hard things. That’s what friends do, right?”

Chat’s ears fell, his eyes closing as he took a heavy breath. “There’s a limit to what I feel like I can ask you.”

“There’s no limit for me.”

“Maybe not for you, but I can’t cope with pulling you into this.”

Ladybug bit her lip, confused and hurt. He’d said before to Marinette that he loved Ladybug more than anything, so why was he pushing her away? Was he saying that he couldn’t lean on her because he cared for her? Because he couldn’t put that kind of pressure on her even if she was willing to take it?

She just… did not understand.

“Sorry,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “I figured you wouldn’t understand. So just… realize that I need to do this myself and stop trying to butt in to ‘help’. Because it’s not helping.”

There wasn’t anything else she could do. “Okay,” she relented. “Under one condition.”

His brow furrowed, and she watched his guard spring up again. “No. No conditions.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Why don’t you hear me out?”

Silenced, her words died on her tongue.

“I don’t want to pull you into this, and don’t go forcing yourself into my issues, either,” he growled, ears pinned back. “I’m asking one thing of you, and you’re trying to play fix-it by not listening to me. Stay. Out.”

There was no other option for her but to relent. “Understood.”

The edge of Chat’s intensity softened, his ears relaxing so they were no longer pinned at her. “Thank you.”

“This won’t be our last meeting, right?”

Chat quirked a brow at her. “Of course. I’ll have to give the ring back to you.”

Oh… right. “Still. You’re not going to just drop it off with me and run, right? You’ll talk with me? Please?”

He stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Okay,” she sighed, sad and hurting but hopelessly unable to push forward anymore. “That’s all I ask for. I’ll leave you alone until then.”

“Thank you. Now, you leave first.”

Ladybug quirked a brow at him. “What?”

“I have to apologize to Marinette. And thank her for letting us use the room.”

“Oh,” she muttered.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you now, Ladybug,” he stated. “And I won’t until I finish this last mission. So please, just go.”

Though it hurt, she really didn’t have a choice. He’d said more than she’d expected him to, and he also made it clear the conversation was over. She didn’t want to push and risk pushing him away again. But with this in mind, she knew she’d have to think about how their last meeting would go and what she was willing to give to make him stay in contact with her.

She stood. “Okay. I’ll go tell Marinette you’re awake.”

“Thanks.”

She went downstairs, detransformed and waited a minute, as though Ladybug was explaining everything to Marinette. It was hard not to immediately go back up to him, but it had to be done for her identity.

But once that thought struck her, she realized that she’d likely know who Chat was very soon. If he was going to give the ring back to her, he’d have to detransform. She’d know what he looked like outside the mask. She’d be willing to beg for his name, as well as for anything he was willing to give her about him. A part of her had always wanted to know the man behind the mask. But she’d never wanted that more than now.

And if she had to give her own identity in exchange, she realized she’d gladly do it.

Eventually, she walked back up to her room and knocked on the door. “Chat?”

“Come in.”

She opened the door, and there was Chat, sitting right where he had been, except the smile on his face nearly knocked her off her feet. “It’s your room, you know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You don’t have to knock.”

She shrugged, unable to come up with any other retort. “You had both Ladybug and I really worried, you know.”

That smile of his disappeared. “Sorry, Princess,” he said, letting his eyes close and head fall back to lean against the wall. “I didn’t mean to. And I’m sorry about everything else, too. It’s not like I want you to have to take care of me—”

“I don’t mind,” she cut in, crawling up to her bed and taking a seat beside him, their shoulders touching. “Really, I don’t mind at all.”

He huffed. “You shouldn’t have to be babying this superhero.”

“Again, I don’t mind.”

“You’re not a caretaker,” he said. “And it’s not fair of me to take advantage of you like that.”

She shrugged. “You need help. And I’m happy to assist.”

He sighed, turning down to look at her. “I know I yelled at you before for being Miss Fix-it,” he eventually said. “But one of your best qualities is your willingness to help someone. But then again. Maybe it’s not.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it makes me worry someone might take advantage of you.”

Marinette tilted her head. “Like… what are you talking about? I’m smarter than to let that happen.”

He huffed, sliver of a grin flashing across his lips before disappearing again. “Nevermind. Just… be careful who you let in your life. You… you’re a pretty amazing girl, babying a guy who can’t even tell right from left. You deserve the best, Princess.”

“You’re a pretty amazing guy, too, Chat,” she said. “Risking your life for Paris’s safety for years and still finding time to make others smile when you could. I want the best for you, too.”

He hummed, but didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned sideways, his head resting on top of hers. “Sorry, Princess,” he muttered. “I just… I really need a minute. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Take as much time as you need,” she assured. Out of habit, she reached up, burying her fingers into his white locks right under his cat ear. He stiffened at her touch, but as she slowly scratched circles in his hair, he relaxed. If she was Ladybug, she would use this to start up a purr that amused her so. But she didn’t expect that this time. It was only to put him at ease.

But he ended up purring anyway.

The sound rumbled through her, somehow calming her heart. Oh, kitty.

She stayed like that for a while, long enough for him to fall asleep. And when she eventually realized that, she laid him down on her bed, curling up beside him, and ended up falling asleep herself.

17. Locked in

After that last time she’d met him as Ladybug, Marinette had noticed Chat seemed to be losing himself more and more. She hated watching it, that ring draining him dry. She just wished he’d tell her what he was doing so she, her Ladybug self, could help him. So she could save him.

But she couldn’t. Chat had told her no. And pushing would ruin any chance of saving their partnership.

“You seem to be pushing yourself really hard,” Marinette began, setting a plate of cookies in front of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“So what if I am?”

She sighed, taking a moment to focus on what she wanted to say and what she could say as Marinette. Which… wasn’t much.

Chat’s icy demeanor thawed. “Sorry. Guess I’m just on edge with everything lately.”

“Is it stress or…?”

He shrugged. “A combination of things.”

“From what I can guess, you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I am cleaning up a mess that I alone can deal with,” he said. “And… guess I can say it’s taking a lot out of me.”

Like your life and health. She bit her lip. “How much longer do you think you’ll be at this? Because watching you now is painful.”

He paused, silence lingering a long while once again. “I have one thing I have to get for Ladybug,” he answered. “That’s it. Then I’m done.”

She blinked her surprise, unsure if she was more shocked at his task or him being so forthcoming about it. “My guess is it has something to do with the miraculous?”

He nodded. “I thought it was locked in a… certain place. But it wasn’t. It took a while to hunt down, but I found it.”

“So… are you saying you’ll be done soon?” she asked, hopeful. “And then you’ll be able to rest and recover?”

He stared at her for a moment before reaching out to rest a large, comforting hand on her head. “Yeah. And then I should be back on track to be okay again, okay, princess?”

She blinked at him, already feeling her vision blur.

He gave her a smile, one weak from exhaustion but true nevertheless. “Thank you for caring about me. It means more to me than you realize.”

18. Oops

Her cat just kept wanting to give her heart attacks, didn’t he? If it wasn’t bad enough that he was already barely lucid half the time, Marinette had just come up on her balcony to see the white super sprawled out, unconscious.

“Chat. Chat!” She flipped him off his stomach as carefully as she could before checking him over for any sign his was breathing. Which, while shallow, he was.

“You’re going to be the death of me, damn it!” she hissed, plopping down on the ground and pulling his head in her lap. Gently, she patted his cheek. “Chat. Chat, wake up, please.”

He didn’t, at least not right away. It took a moment for him to so much as stir under her touch. And when he finally opened his eyes, Marinette felt herself sigh heavily in relief.

“Damn it, you stupid cat,” she said, heaving a sigh of relief while her gut still burned with worry. “You scared the crap out of me.”

His eyes shut for a moment. “Sorry,” he muttered. When he opened his eyes again, they seemed to be a little less foggy. Nowhere near fully lucid yet, but she’d take any bit of progress she could at the moment.

She sat there for a while, stroking his hair and pondering what she could possibly say that she hadn’t already said a million times before. She couldn’t tell him to surrender his ring now, since he seemed determined to see this through, nor could she tell him to go to Ladybug for help. He certainly wasn’t going to listen to her either way.

“What am I going to do with you?” she muttered, tears beginning to make their way down her face. She realized that too late when they rolled off her jaw to splatter against Chat’s cheeks.

“It’s almost over, princess,” he muttered, forcing a weak smile that clearly took a lot of energy out of him. “I’m almost done.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“I mean it this time,” he wheezed out. “I… I got it.”

Got what? She wondered.

It took her far too long to realize what he meant.

“You’re really almost done?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up a shaky hand to roughly brush away the tear trail on her cheek. “Almost done.”

She could have cried in relief. Now, she had to prepare herself for his meeting with Ladybug. “Are you going to meet Ladybug now?”

He opened his mouth, but froze, words seemingly stuck in his throat.

“Chat?”

“No,” he answered solemnly, the light seeming to fade form his eyes. “Not… I need… I need a moment.”

Her brow furrowed. “To collect yourself?”

“To… recollect everything,” he said. “Because… it didn’t go as planned. And to call it the second big ‘oops’ I’ve made is just… too much an understatement.”

Suddenly, Marinette’s gut was back into such a tight knot she felt like she could throw up. What happened, cat?

A stupid question. Because unless she could work some Ladybug magic on him, she doubted she’d ever know.

[seanfalco]

To Hurt | Nathan Young x Reader

Wrote this sometime last year when I was having a bad night, but then talked myself out of posting it. Went back to it tonight bc I’m back in the same place and finished it. Figured maybe it might help someone else feel better too.

A vent piece in a similar vein as Comfort.

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): language, depictions of self harm

You wanted to hurt.

You wanted to hurt as badly on the outside as you did inside. That thought hadn’t surfaced in a long while, not since you’d left your stepmum’s, so the fact that it did now scared you.

It scared you a lot.

But It would be so easy. Hurting yourself. You’d done it before, many times, in so many different ways.

Jumping up, you balled your hand into a fist as you faced the bedroom wall and punched as hard as you could.

It only took a moment of anger, a moment of frustration and it was over... but the pain that traveled up your arm seemed to shock you awake.

Oh, it hurt worse than you’d thought.

Already your hand was beginning to swell, throbbing hard enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes and you shook your hand, a choked sob escaping your lips. Shit, did you break it? You couldn’t move your fingers.

“[y/n]? Th’fuck was that noise?” Nathan’s voice called from the other room and you just stood there, pressing your back to the wall and sliding to the ground. The apartment was small, you knew he’d find you soon.

How were you supposed to explain this?

Raising your eyes you stared at the crack in the wall where your fist had just made contact. You were probably gunna lose your safety deposit for that.

“[y/n]? Oh, Jesus!” Nathan exclaimed as his eyes went from the hole in the wall to the steadily darkening black and purple bruises covering your knuckles. Crouching in front of you he winced as he took your hand to get a closer look before his eyes flicked back to your tear stained face, your makeup no doubt a mess.

“What happened?” he asked, though it was pretty clear what happened.

With a sniffle, you shrugged halfheartedly, unable to quite make your voice work. When you didn’t answer, merely averting your eyes ashamedly, Nathan let out a long breath.

“I’ll get some ice,” he muttered, leaving you with your guilt, the empty pit inside you threatening to swallow you whole. He was only gone a minute, back with a baggie of ice and a towel and you couldn’t stomach the worry lurking behind his green eyes as he wrapped the towel round your hand, to hold the ice bag in place.

Pressing his back against the wall next to you, he drew his knees up to his chest and you felt his hand brush your non injured one. Letting him thread his fingers with yours you felt another wave of self loathing coming and you almost wrenched your hand away, instead squeezing his fingers hard, desperately holding onto him.

“Why’d you do that?” Nathan asked, watching you from the corner of his eye, his head pressed back against the wall as he worried his lip with his teeth.

“I wanted to hurt,” you murmured softly. “We don’t all get blackout drunk when we hate ourselves.”

At your words, Nathan grimaced and you felt shame wash through you, a stray tear falling down your cheek. “I’m sorry…” you muttered, shaking your head, sniffling thickly. “Are y’mad about the wall?”

Nathan turned to gape at you incredulously. “No! God, no! Fuck th’wall, who cares bout that? We’ll hang a poster or somethin’ over it. I’m worried bout you. I’ve never seen yeh like this before,” he exclaimed, shakily.

“Don’t you ever just feel like you’re not good enough?” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Silence stretched and Nathan nodded, leaning against you. “Are y’kiddin’? I always feel that way.” He swallowed and turned to face you. “But you… you’re the best damn thing t’ever happen t’me, and I think you’re better than good enough. I wouldn’t trade you for all the money or--or booze, or blowjobs in th’world! I’m serious!” he exclaimed, picking up speed. “An, y’know how much I love all those things.”

For a moment you nearly cracked a smile, but Nathan caught it.

“Next time you feel like this, tell me an’ I’ll distract you. Or we’ll go out an’ break something or vandalize something instead. Fuck, we could even steal your stepsister’s car again and crash it, just for th’hell of it. But yeh don’t hafta do this alone. That’s why I’m here, yeah?”

Oh no, you thought, here come the fuckin’ waterworks, but Nathan was quick to pull you into his lap, and he didn’t care if you got his shirt wet from crying against his chest. He merely began to murmur all his favourite things about you into your ear, each thing cheesier than the last til he got you to finally laugh, even if it was a watery one.

“There, see,” he murmured looking rather proud of himself, “I’ll earn my keep yet.”

“Thank you,” you managed to sniffle and Nathan wiped the last few stray tears from your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“‘Course, like I said, that’s what I’m here for, love.”

Flexing your hand, you grimaced at the sting, pulling the ice bag from it. At least you could move it; it seemed less likely that it was broken now.

“What am I s’posed t’tell people bout this? It’s not exactly… subtle,” you sighed, already regretting your actions and Nathan grinned slightly.

“We’ll tell em… you got in a fistfight with a mugger and that you won.”

Though you looked skeptical you felt somewhat lighter, buoyed by Nathan’s easy grin and his jokes.

“C’mon, I think its time for a proper snuggle,” he exclaimed and you didn’t argue, letting him carry you to the bed before folding you into his arms.

“I meant it when I said you’re th’best thing t’ever happen t’me, y’know?” he murmured, taking your face between his hands. “I don’t wanna lose you... you know what I mean?” he asked, giving you a pointed look, as if saying it aloud might make it happen and once more white hot shame washed through you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching at his shirt with your good hand.

“Please don’t do that again?” he insisted, his eyes seeking yours, all trace of amusement gone, and you nodded.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Hearing the sincerity in your voice, Nathan seemed to relax, pressing his lips to your forehead before tilting your chin up to kiss your lips.

“Good, cause I don’t think the wall’ll hold up if you hit it again. You’re too strong,” he teased. “It’s be like kapow! and then turn into rubble or somethin’, and then we’d hafta share one big open flat with th’neighbors, and I don’t know about you [y/n], but I don’t think I’d like that. There goes all our privacy!”

When he got you to laugh, really laugh, a proud smile stole across his face, his expression lighting up hopefully as he watched you.

“Hey Nathan,” you murmured, as your giggles finally died down.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[eralisse]

Brothers Conflict: Season 1 LN - Ch11, Sec10 & Sec11

Another partial segment of the Iori/Kaname conflict, this time at the cherry blossom viewing in Volume 4, when Iori tries to drag Ema off.

Long discussion at the bottom.

Brothers Conflict Translations Index

Masaomi: “Wataru, shall we go home soon?”

Masaomi-san said while looking at his watch.

Wataru: “Ehh, already…”

Masaomi: “Because, look at what time it is.”

Ukyo: “It’s certainly about time to go.”

Ukyo-san also glanced at his watch.

Ukyo: “Any more and it’ll affect you tomorrow.”

Wataru: “Just a little longer…”

Masaomi: “Wataru.”

Wataru: “.......Ugh.”

Wataru-chan gave in reluctantly, pouting.

As Masaomi-san said, it had gotten quite late.

Outside of a few street lamps, the lights lit here and there until just now had gone out, and only moonlight shone down.

By this time, Subaru-san, Rui-san, Tsubaki-san, Azusa-san, Natsume-san who had fallen into the pond, Yuusuke-kun, and Fuuto-kun had already gone home earlier.

Kaname: “What’s this, everyone’s leaving?”

Hikaru: “Already? It’s still only early evening.”

Kaname: “Imouto-chan, you’re still good, right?”

Ema: “Y-you’re asking me?”

Ukyo-san interjected.

Ukyo: “You should go home. The only ones remaining are Kaname and Hikaru. Of the ones you could think of, this is the worst pairing.”

Kaname: “Uwah, such cruel words.”

Hikaru: “... I’m not convinced to just take myself out like that.”

Ukyo: “What are you saying? Do you think there are people more immoral out there than you two?”

Masaomi: “Now, now.”

Masaomi-san interrupted.

Masaomi: “Whether to stay or go is something for her to decide. What do you want to do?”

Ema: “Uh, um…”

In all the commotion, there hadn’t been much time to look at the cherry blossoms. That’s why, to speak frankly, I wanted to stay a little longer.

Ema: “If possible, I’d like to stay.”

Ukyo: “But…”

Ukyo-san started to say. But Masaomi-san stopped him.

Masaomi: “It’s fine, Ukyo. If she wants to, why not let her?”

Kaname: “Well said, Masa-nii, very reasonable.”

Masaomi-san turned toward Kaname-san.

Masaomi: “After all, Kaname is always thinking of her. Nothing bad will happen. Isn’t that right, Kaname?”

After being told that by Masaomi-san, Kaname-san opened his eyes wide for a moment, and then let out a loud breath.

Kaname: “I give up. If you say that much, I can’t even do anything wrong, let alone anything bad.”

(What do you mean by “anything wrong”, Kaname-san?!)

Hikaru: “Ehhh.”

Hikaru-san looked at Masaomi-san admiringly.

Hikaru: “Masa-nii, you’ve gotten impressive. What happened while I was away?”

Masaomi: “She’s changed me.”

This was said so naturally that, at first, I completely ignored Masaomi-san’s words.

Masaomi: “Well then, let’s go, Wataru.”

Wataru: “Mm… Okay.”

Ukyo: “Please clean up properly. That would be good.”

After Masaomi-san, Ukyo-san, and Wataru-chan got up and left, I suddenly felt my cheeks get hot.

(M-Masaomi-san…)

Hikaru: “What’s this, you’re only just now getting bashful?”

Hikaru laughed.

Hikaru: “This girl is amusing. I’m a little interested.”

Kaname: “Hey hey, no more, give me a break from having more guys interested in Imouto-chan.”

Kaname-san drained his glass of the remaining wine.

Kaname: “Rivals keep showing up, at all times…”

Just then, I felt the presence of someone closeby.

Iori: “Hey, I’m sorry to make you wait.”

When I turned, Iori-san was standing there.

Ema: “Iori-san…”

Iori:　”Sorry, work went overtime. Though I’m happy that you waited for me… Anyway, let’s go.”

Iori-san took my hand and started to walk away. Then, I heard Kaname-san’s voice.

Kaname: “Hold up, Iori.”

Iori: “What, Kaname-niisan.”

Iori-san looked back at Kaname-san.

Kaname: “Today’s not a date. This is a flower-viewing with the family.”

Iori: “Is that so? But it doesn’t look like there’s anyone else here.”

Kaname: “Hikaru and I are here.”

Iori: “Why must I have the flower-viewing with Kaname-niisan?”

The moonlight hitting Iori-san’s white face tinged it a faint blue.

I realized that Kaname-san’s fists were clenched tightly.

Kaname: “Because we’re family, you know?”

Iori: “We’re related by blood, that’s true.”

Iori smiled.

Iori: “But, what meaning does that have?”

Kaname: “Imouto-chan!”

Kaname-san drew closer.

Kaname: “You’re going home.”

Ema: “B-but…”

Kaname: “Just go.”

Kaname-san pulled Iori-san’s hand off of mine.

Iori: “Kaname-niisan.”

Bathed in moonlight, Iori-san glowed palely.

Iori: “Love is mightier than anything else. That’s what you always say.”

Iori-san smiled. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t help but shiver.

Iori: “I’ve also come to think that, too. Even so, why do you still object?”

Iori-san held out his hand, as if he were calling out to me.

Iori: “Say. You’ll be together with me, right?”

Ema: “... Iori-san.”

Kaname: “No talking.”

Kaname-san raised an arm to block my vision.

Kaname: “Listen to what I’m saying. You’re going home right now. ... Hikaru, take her home.”

I heard Iori-san’s voice.

Iori: “Kaname-niisan, you look like you’re doing your best, but how long do you think you can continue this?”

Kaname: “... For as long as I live.”

Kaname-san said.

Kaname: “You said it yourself. The power of love is stronger than anything else.”

Iori-san, illuminated by the light of the moon, and Kaname-san, standing in the shadows of the cherry blossom trees.

The two of them stood there, staring intently at the other.

Hikaru: “... Well then, let’s go.”

Hikaru-san pulled at my arm.

Hikaru: “We’re just going to be in the way.”

(Kaname-san… Iori-san…)

We left that place, with Hikaru-san pulling me along. My mind was in chaos, and words would not come. I could not even understand what was going on.

---

Hikaru: “... Have you calmed down a little?”

Hikaru-san said as we arrived at the apartment complex.

Ema: “Eh…? Ah, y-yes…”

Hikaru: “Liar.”

Hikaru smiled pleasantly.

Hikaru: “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

Ema: “...”

Hikaru: “I understand. It’s natural.”

Hikaru-san pressed the button for the elevator. Empty, the elevator came to a stop on the first floor, and the light for it turned on.

Hikaru: “If you leave it to Kaname, he’ll deal with it properly. Besides, Iori will be fine.”

Ema: “But…”

Even so, I was really worried. That atmosphere was not normal. Kaname-san and Iori-san were different from usual.

Hikaru: “You know. There is a big difference between people who look like they’re going to do something, versus people who have actually done something. … Here, go on in.”

At Hikaru’s prompting, I got into the elevator.

Hikaru: “I said this earlier. I’m quite familiar with those kinds of people. So I can say with confidence, the two of them will be okay. More than that-”

Hikaru-san looked over at me.

Hikaru: “I’m more worried about you.”

Ema: “... I, I’m fine.”

At that answer, Hikaru-san smiled wryly.

Hikaru: “You really are a liar. … Still, to have the guts to be able to say that is impressive. I see, I understand now.”

Ema: “Understand what?”

Hikaru: “The reason why you have captivated all of the guys.”

Ema: “... Eh?”

Just then, the elevator arrived at the fourth floor where my room was.

Hikaru: “For now, this is my advice.”

Hikaru-san said, as we got to my door.

Hikaru: “Take a hot shower, and then go straight to bed. Don’t think about anything. Okay?”

After saying that, he steered me into my room.

Hikaru: “Well then, good night. … See you tomorrow.”

I heard his voice through the door, and then, after a while, the sound of footsteps moving away.

---

Comments

From the various comments I've read over the years, I get the feeling that people don't think that Iori is forceful. Which, I kind of get, since he's not as loud about it. However, reading carefully, he's still pretty... grabby. Both physically and verbally. In this scene, Iori straight up goes to Ema, grabs her hand, and tries to walk away with her. I don't know about you, but I didn't see any consent from Ema for that. (Lack of No does not mean Yes. Only a Yes counts as consent. No and lack of No do not count.) Later on, in Volume 5, he grab/hugs Ema and kisses her. In the illustrations for that scene, he pulls Ema into him so she's off-balance, and has both arms around her. Hell, she even has tears in her eyes in the picture, and when he kisses her, he has both hands holding her face.

Compare that to Kaname's kiss illustrations in Volume 1, where he's holding Ema's arms loosely, and she's still balanced on her own, kneeling on the sand. (And in the game, she had enough leverage to push him away completely afterwards.) I know both of them kissed her without consent, I get it. But one of them was a lot more forceful about it.

Maybe I'm making excuses for him, but I feel like the whole business with Kaname forcing his kiss was the writer's way to set him up to fail. Remember, in this competition, there can be only one winner. And assuming that the conflicts were planned, then Kaname had to be taken out of the running somehow and he was first on the chopping block. After the whole kiss business, I've noticed that Kaname never touches her again. Well, possessively or romantically, anyway. Which then opens him up to show his (true) fatherly/brotherly side in the later volumes.

It's pretty sad that the anime, and even the game, focuses so much on his flirty side. Which he is, for sure, but in the books, it seems to happen more when there are other brothers present? Like, it's more of a habit, or a facade. In Volume 5, in the sections I translated in my previous post, he flat out says that he doesn't like to be pushy towards women. Also, he is a host and a Buddhist monk. As a host, if he was too pushy, I doubt that so many women would come to him. At Club Buddha, where he works, he is the second most popular host/monk. (Following Ryuusei, who is not made out to be the pushy type. That said, Chiaki at number 3 is super pushy, so hmmm.) Anyway, I would also imagine that he, being a host, would be always super aware of where his hands are and what he's doing. And this is explicitly stated in the books and games, but he is skilled at reading people, so he would know for sure when Ema is uncomfortable. Secondly, from some outside reading, Buddhism is rather big on consent. And not just verbal consent, as I mentioned earlier, but actual acceptance, freely given true consent. Outside of the flirtiness, Kaname is canonically a good monk. And for the rest of the novels, he tries really hard to do good to Ema. That's why, I think his initial characterization and all that with the kiss was a contrivance. Or maybe, he just messed up; 27 is still young enough for mistakes.

[katzkinder]

Pomegranate Seeds, Give My Life To Thee

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

Mahiru hates the way his Servamp talks.

There were a number of things Mahiru disliked about Kuro.

Getting oil on the controllers, leaving crumbs and empty chip bags behind, forgetting to take stuff out of his pockets before chucking his dirty laundry into the bin, not managing to make the dirty laundry get to the bin at all, and most annoying was certainly Kuro’s habit of snacking just before meal times.

But these were all small things. Minor things. Things that Kuro had, he had to admit, improved upon since they had begun living together. The sort of things you’d expect from someone who had essentially lived for who knows how long as a bachelor (he thinks? He’s still honestly not sure on just what kind of relationship Kuro and Gear had had in the past. Thinking too hard on it made his heart twist) and then however many decades as a homeless bum. And he was proud of him! Of course he was.

These were things he could overlook. Easily help Kuro improve on. Nag him into submission about, though the housewife and “yes mommy” jokes were getting stale. But there were some things, some habits, some phrases… He just couldn’t stand. And it ate at him.

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”  

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”  

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”  

“Who cares? I’m immortal.”

“I do.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Kuro blinked up at him, lackadaisical in even his surprise at how… Firmly it had come out. The bag of chips, once full of empty calories and now empty itself thanks to the Servamp’s habitual snacking, crinkled noisily in the still air. The burgeoning argument over Kuro’s dietary habits had come to a halt before it even really started, yet somehow Mahiru felt as if it would have been better, simpler to just let it play out like usual.

Mahiru couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when all these bubbling, festering, unpleasant feelings were reaching a boiling point over such a tiny phrase.

He swallowed, Kuro’s eyes flicking down momentarily to track the motion in his throat, then back to his eyes, and Mahiru felt another pang, along with another stroke of anger that quickly cooled to simmering annoyance.

“You’re starving yourself again, aren’t you?”

Kuro broke their impromptu staring contest at the accusation, gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere else in the tiny apartment living room as he literally turned his back on his Eve, returning to the safe, artificial light and colorful world of his handheld.

“I was literally just eating chips,” he mumbled, all the petulance of a child who knows they are guilty in his drawled words. He scooched the empty bag closer to himself, posture practically screaming that he wanted Mahiru to let it alone, let the sleeping lion lie.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“... Why does it matter? It’s not like there’s any danger here. I’m fine. I’m-”

“Yes! I get it! You’re immortal! But... that’s not the problem!”

He was also not very fond of the way Kuro never wanted to address anything until things were nearly as a breaking point.

The heat in his chest was back, along with a bit of bitter satisfaction at the way his outburst had made Kuro turn to really look at him. But then his partner was standing, and the look on his face was so full of concern, gingerly taking the laundry basket from Mahiru’s hands and setting it aside so that they could stand face to face and Mahiru resisted the urge to bow his head in shame. The vampire caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it in a way that worried Mahiru.

A gentle thumb just below it made Kuro freeze, sanguine eyes widening ever so slightly when Mahiru carefully pulled it free, voice uncharacteristically gentle for his scolding.

“Stop that. You’ll make yourself bleed.”

“... Sorry. Didn’t even realize I was doing it…”

“That seems to be a running theme with you.” Mahiru winced ever so slightly at the harsher than he’d meant wording, but Kuro didn’t seem to mind. Or, at the least, was too concerned with other matters to mind at the moment.

“Mahi…” Kuro’s voice had taken on that softer, more raspy quality that Mahiru recognized as sincerity, and coupled with the nickname, he couldn’t help but soften just a bit more himself. “I…” Another pause, Kuro moving to take his lip between his teeth again but managing to stop himself. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mahiru reached for it, carefully interlocking their hands. “What is the problem, then? This… Isn’t just about the blood, is it?”

Biting down a snarky comment, Mahiru replied, “No, it’s not,” gripping the larger hand in his own more securely, knowing far too well that Kuro was liable to bolt. He’d been getting better about that, too, but his issues with taking blood were particularly touchy for him, he’d found. He hoped that, one day, the other would be able to be candid about it with him. To tell him the why and the how. Until then, though... It was better safe than sorry. “But if you keep it up I’ll start hiding it in your food like a cat who won’t take his pills.”     Kuro snorted, relief making his shoulders sag and stiff posture unwind. If Mahiru was joking, it wasn’t that serious. He hoped. “So? What gives. Talk to me. It’s not like you to just… Suddenly explode like that.”

It was Mahiru’s turn to look guilty, staring at their joined hands and Kuro’s pale, almost translucent skin. There was the faintest scar on the webbing of his thumb, and his nails were getting long again. He’d have to trim them for him soon. The vampire, he’d found, was prone to either chewing them down to the quick or clipping them too short. It was simpler to do it for him, and had become part of the routine of their lives. He didn’t mind it. Enjoyed it, even, if only for the excuse it gave him to hold Kuro’s hand, admire his long, elegant fingers and the difference between them and his own sun kissed ones smattered with freckles.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t even know where to start?”

A finger at his chin, lifting his gaze back to Kuro’s, red, red eyes focused on him and so, so worried.

Why can’t you worry about yourself like that?  

“Keep it simple, then.”

Having his own life motto parroted back to him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course. Simple was best. And simply thinking… He just needed to say what he felt.

“Earlier, what you said…" he began, words slowly picking up steam as he found his voice again, found his thoughts again, "About how you don’t really care, because you’re immortal? It kinda... Pissed me off.”

A stunned look, Kuro once again blinking owlishly at him, no doubt thrown for a loop by the rare swear dropping from the Eve's lips. “O… kay? I won’t… Say it anymore?”

Still missing the point, huh?  

How did he ever end up with such a dumbass vampire?

Mahiru extricated his hand, instead cupping Kuro’s face, ensuring that the vampire of Sloth had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. In fact, when you don’t, it… It hurts! It hurts a lot. Because you’re important to me. Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you suffer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh." The words were coming faster now, louder, more desperate, as if this were somehow his only chance to get them all out and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Didn't want to, because holding it in was so much more painful. "And not just that, either! When you say things like you want to kill yourself, or that you want to die, or that it’s fine that you got hurt… I hate those too! I really, really, hate it...”

His voice cracked on the last word, embarrassingly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, not when Kuro had a dawning look of realization, not when halting hands were reaching for him as the Servamp’s face twisted with contrite, not when he really, really wanted the hug that was being sort of half offered to him. He stepped forward, let Kuro embrace him, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs and all that awfulness he had been hoarding with it. He really... Wasn't okay at all, was he?

 “It scares me… And I’m sorry I got mad at you-”

 “I’m sorry, too. For not… Noticing that it bothered you so much.”

 “... I mean. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m… Kind of really good at hiding when something is bugging me. To be honest…” He snuggled closer into Kuro’s chest, shut his eyes and breathed deep, that mixture of misty mornings and his body wash because of course Kuro was too lazy to pick out his own, all layered over the subtle metallic tang that seemed to cling to every vampire he met. It was soothing. It felt like home, and safety, the same but different as his uncle. Like everything would be okay, if only he just stayed right where he was. ���I don’t think I even realized how badly it bothered me myself until just now…”

Kuro hummed, Mahiru feeling the vibrations under his ear and against his cheek. “That seems to be a running theme with you.”

“Ass.” A light thwack to his shoulder, Kuro releasing a little puff of amusement.

“My bad. Couldn’t resist. We’re both… Pretty similar, huh…?”

“I guess so. Who would have thought?”

A pat or two to his back and Kuro drew away, Mahiru reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll clean up my mess, and, um, once I’m done…” The human blinked, head tilting curiously when Kuro cleared his throat, scratched at his cheek. It could sorely use some color. “Maybe we can figure out an, uh… Feeding schedule? Or something?” He gave a helpless sort of half shrug, quickly dropping it when all he got in return was a blank stare. “Sorry, forget it, dumb idea, just thought it would, like, help or something. I dunno-”

 “No!” Kuro jumped at his shout, his anxious rambling cutting off and replaced instead with anxious finger fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands while Mahiru rapidly moved to reassure him. “No, feeding schedule is great! In fact, let me get a marker for the calendar and my phone while you do that.”

It was a small thing. A minor thing. Something that shouldn’t even be a problem to begin with. But it was a step towards getting Kuro to take proper care of himself. To value himself. Even if he was only suggesting it to comfort his Eve…

Mahiru tried and failed to hold down the amused little smile sprouting when he sighted the red at the tips of Kuro’s ears, quickly padding out the living room and leaving Kuro to his task, and the dirty laundry in its basket in the middle of the otherwise clear space.

No matter what the reason, it was a step in the right direction. For the both of them.

[flowercrown-bard]

I'm just thinking about the first time Jaskier learns that Geralt names every horse he gets Roach. Does this amuse Jaskier? Does he realise the abandonment issues involved? Is Geralt nervous or embarrassed to tell him? Does this count as a prompt? I'm not sure if it does but I hope your day gets better!

that absolutely counts as a prompt! thank you :)

A Horse by Any Other Name

The insistent strumming of the lute was starting to get on Geralt’s nerves. One would think by now he’d be able to tune it out, but no. It was like everything the bard did was demanding Geralt’s full attention. The bard would probably let it get to his head if he knew, insisting that Geralt liked having him near or some such nonsense.

“The mighty steed by the name of Roach

Loyal even when a monster approach…es.”

The notes faltered as the bard stumbled over the words of his new song for the umpteenth time. “Damn it.”

Geralt’s lips twitched upwards, when the bard picked up the tune again, trying in vain to find a decent rhyme.

Eventually he gave up. Finally, some silence. Though not for long.

“Really, Geralt. Roach? How am I supposed to fit that into any song? She deserves to be sung about, but nothing makes a decent rhyme for that name and if I change the syntax it doesn’t fit the metre anymore.” He scoffed and put the lute onto his back. “Sometimes I think you only named her that to spite me. Roach! You couldn’t have picked literally any other name, could you? Something that would sound good in a ballad about heroism and adventure maybe?”

Geralt grunted. “No.”

His jaw clenched. The bard had no right to demand such a thing. It was none of his business what Geralt called his horse. Roach wasn’t here to be a shining accessory to the bard’s songs. She was his companion.

Despite his time at the theatre, the bard didn’t know how to take a cue. Geralt’s frown and obvious dismissal must not have been obvious enough for him.

The bard skipped some steps ahead, until he was walking backwards, looking at him with an impish grin.

“Oh…that almost sounds like it has a story behind it.” He spread his arms widely. “The great tale of why Roach is the only acceptable name for this valiant mare.”

“There isn’t one.” None that the bard would get to hear any time soon, at least.

Geralt guided Roach around the bard and urged her on to walk faster.

“Come on!” He ignored the bard calling after him. “Tell me!”

“Fuck off, bard.”

Geralt didn’t look back, but after a few seconds he heard an indignant huff and the sound of hurried footsteps.

The bard didn’t broach the subject again. Almost a week had passed and Geralt was starting to relax, hoping against his better judgement that the bard had lost interest. Experience should have told him that this hope was stupid.

As per usual Geralt was riding on horse while the bard walked behind him like a stone stuck in one’s shoe, annoying and likely to still be there, even when one thought they had finally gotten rid of it for good. And as per usual the bard was talking.

“My feet are killing me, Geralt! Don’t ever let me put on these shoes when we are going for a long walk again. Gorgeous as they are, they are not made for adventuring.”

Geralt grunted and damn it, he was unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

The bard must have picked up on it, because he doubled down, sighing overdramatically.

“You could save me from my misery, you know? You are supposed to be my hero. My knight in shining armour. So, if we keep travelling together for much longer, you could just let me ride –“

“No,” Geralt said, though at this point it was more to see the bard’s reaction than anything else. He was loath to admit it, but the bard had a point. If he were to stick around, it would be better if he didn’t have to walk everywhere. It was slowing them down and it would do no good for the bard to get blisters. If for some reason the bard would ever get in danger, being exhausted from a long walk would prove fatal.

Geralt ground his teeth together. He shouldn’t be thinking such things. There would be no travelling together. Soon enough the bard would get tired of trailing after Geralt and find someone else to latch onto, probably some pretty woman who openly showered him in adoration.

The bard’s huff brought him back to the here and now, in which the bard was still very much by his side.

“Fine then. Maybe in the next town I will just buy my own horse. And I will give it a truly beautiful name, one that can actually be used in my poetry. Like Pegasus. That is a name worthy of ballads.”

Geralt tensed. He didn’t mean to, but his heels must have dug into Roach’s sides, for she made a disgruntled sound.

The bard chuckled. “Don’t worry, Roach, my dear.” The bard came closer and gently stroked her nostrils. Geralt couldn’t help the relief he felt when Roach didn’t snap at the bard, biting the fingers that he so dearly needed for his playing. “You are still my one and only Roach.”

“She isn’t.”

The words were out before Geralt could stop himself.

The way the bard rolled his eyes was far too exaggerated for him to be truly annoyed. “Oh hush, you can stop it with your boorishness. I know you get touchy about her, but you can’t deny that Roach and I have become friends.” He paused. “Just like you can’t deny that we have become friends.”

Geralt could and very much would deny that as often as he must until the bard finally saw reason. Geralt’s jaw worked while the bard looked up at him challengingly.

Ah fuck it.

“That’s not what I meant. She isn’t the only Roach.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Not the first one anyway.”

“The first one?” Despite Geralt avoiding the bard’s eyes, he could see his expression turn confused. “You mean there were others before her? And there will be Roaches after her?”

Geralt nodded curtly. And that was that. At least as far as Geralt was concerned. The bard obviously had a different view on things.

“So that’s why you didn’t want to talk about her name!” There was a smile in his voice that had no business being there. “It’s alright, you know. I won’t judge you for not being creative with names. Happens to the best of us. To be frank, I think it’s quite endearing.”

Geralt snapped around sharply. “Stop talking about things you know nothing about.”

He was about to spurn Roach on, just to get away from the conversation and the uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest, when he noticed that the bard had fallen eerily quiet.

Geralt risked a glance over his shoulder to find the bard staring at the ground, where he was kicking a stone in front of him, apparently lost in thought. Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. He knew he was gruff and just overall not good company, but he hadn’t thought that he would actually manage to get the bard to shut up. Somehow it didn’t sit right with him. As much as the constant chatter could be annoying, it was part of the bard and losing it felt a step closer to the inevitable. Still, he didn’t know what to do about it. He had never been good at keeping things close.

He almost slumped in relief, when the bard spoke up again, quieter this time and with none of the dramatics and exaggerated emotion of a performance. “What was the first Roach like?”

Geralt’s breath hitched. It had been so long since he had taken the time to think back to the first one, even though the memory never left him.

When Geralt didn’t immediately answer, the bard swallowed and averted his eyes. “Sorry. Ignore my question. I don’t actually want you to talk about things you don’t want to talk about.”

“He wasn’t mine,” Geralt said, unsure how much the bard was willing to hear, but feeling the strange need to tell him anyway. “When I became a witcher, I didn’t have a horse. I was quite disappointed about that actually.” His lips twitched. “It would have fit into the ridiculous idea I had about being some heroic defender of mankind.”

The bard started fidgeting and pressed his lips together, like he was burning to say something, but holding back to let Geralt talk. Geralt wouldn’t admit it, but he was grateful for it.

“The first monster I killed…. let’s just say the one I saved didn’t exactly see me as a defender.” His brows drew together at the memory. “After she regained consciousness, she ran away as fast as she could. Didn’t care that she had left her horse behind. I didn’t want him either. I was no hero and I was too bitter to think of how useful a horse would be.

“But he kept following me around.” A smile stole itself onto Geralt’s face. “Just wouldn’t leave me behind, that stubborn horse. For a week or so I didn’t give him a name. I wasn’t planning on keeping him. It was only when I had to choose between spending my coin on food for him or for myself that I decided to name him. I caught my own food that day – a roach – and figured it was a good enough name. It wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t going to keep the horse for long anyway. He didn’t leave though. Stayed with me until he wasn’t able to run fast enough when a griffin got away from me.”

There was that silence again. It was what Geralt had wanted, wasn’t it? For the bard to be quiet. But this silence was heavy, filled with something Geralt didn’t dare name, lest he would have to admit to himself that the bard wasn’t just some idiot who only followed him because he hadn’t yet realised the foolishness of it.  

He scoffed, filled with the unexpected need to hear the bard react in some way.

“You satisfied?” Geralt’s voice sounded bitter even in his own ears. “Is that something you can make a song out of?”

“No. I don’t think I will,” the bard said quietly, thoughtfully. So unlike the way Geralt was used to hearing him speak. He wasn’t sure if he minded it. “Thank you for telling me.”

Geralt grunted, his throat suddenly dry. For a terrifying moment, he had come so close to making a fool of himself by thanking the bard for listening.

When he looked at the bard out of the corner of his eye, he had a tiny smile dancing on his lips.

“It’s good to finally know that she is named after the fish.” Something loosened inside Geralt at the bard’s light-hearted words. “For the longest time I thought our dearest Roach was named after a cockroach and that would have just been a strange name.”

Geralt huffed, but didn’t hide the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. “Says someone named after a flower.”

The hearty laugh was enough to vanquish the last of the heaviness around Geralt’s chest that made it hard to breathe.

“So you do know my name after all.” The bard cocked his head to the side, smile still in place. “I had begun to wonder if you just didn’t know and reached a point where it would have been embarrassing to ask.”

“Hard to miss the name people shout when they chase you out of their rooms.”

The bard grinned. “Not to mention the multitude of adoring fans shouting my name. As they will yours once I make you famous.”

Geralt snorted.

“Actually, could you halt Roach for a moment? There’s been a pebble stuck inside my shoe for forever now and I really need to get rid of it.”

Geralt lifted a brow, but did as the bard had said. His breathe got stuck in his throat when the bard placed a hand on his leg for balance, as he took one boot off.

The smile on the bard’s face when he had finally managed to shake the pebble out of it was incredibly smug.

“Alright then, onwards!”

Geralt hesitated. “Come here.”  

“What?”

“I said come here. Onto Roach. I want to reach town before nightfall and I can’t do that when stones keep getting stuck in your shoes.”

For a heartbeat, the bard looked at Geralt with an unreadable expression, before a grin spread across his face.

It was only when he was sat behind Geralt with his arms slung around him, that the bard spoke again. “Just in case you were worried. I am not going to leave you, Geralt.”

Geralt sighed, but somehow the annoyance he had come to expect at such a declaration didn’t come.

“I am afraid you’re right, Jaskier.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

The Savior - Chapter 32

Summary: Negan takes Y/N and Asher to the beach house while trying to determine what to do with Asher. After learning about Asher's past, Negan is determined to help the little boy

Characters: Negan, Reader (OC), Asher, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, some smut, talks of parental abuse

AO3 Link: Tumblr won't let me post the link again so look on my AO3 to find it.

“I thought we were at your house,” Asher’s voice spoke up from the backseat of Negan’s car while they drove to the beach house. Negan looked at Asher in the rearview mirror and could see the young boy bouncing around in the seat he was in, clearly still amused with being in Negan’s muscle car. “Does my mom know where we are going?”

“I sent your mom my cell number and the address,” Negan informed Asher who seemed to already not care anymore about the question he even asked. Looking to Y/N, Negan felt a sense of sadness overcome him. This was supposed to be his time to plan his future with Y/N and now they had this all thrown on them. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but she had been extraordinarily kind to Asher since he had shown up. “I have a few things I have to do for work, so we have to be out here.”

It took a few more minutes until they pulled into the driveway of the beach house and when they did, they heard Asher let out a sound of awe, “Holy shit! That’s your house?”

“Hey…” Negan looked back over his shoulder at Asher who was eyeballing the house from the window. Looking to Y/N he let out a long sigh and whispered, “Should I even be correcting him on the swearing since I do it?”

“I mean…that’s up to you,” she didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t about to tell Negan how to be a parent. If Asher was really Negan’s son, she had no right in giving her opinion as far as she was concerned. She would help to the best of her ability, but she didn’t want to step on Negan’s toes.

“Asher, I don’t have a problem with you swearing around me, but could you do me a favor?” Negan pulled his seatbelt off, turning around in the front seat to give Asher a serious expression. Asher quickly nodded his head and Negan bit at his bottom lip. “When we are in public or you are at school, could you watch your mouth a little bit? There is a time and a place for you to swear. In front of me, it’s totally okay, but around others…”

“Manners, right,” Asher snapped his fingers and his big hazel eyes looked between Y/N and Negan. “Can we go in?”

“Sure, but just…remember there are some things in there that are expensive, so you have to be careful, okay?” Negan reminded Asher who quickly nodded and pulled his seatbelt off. They got out of the car and Negan noticed Y/N pulling her sweatshirt closer to her body. “Isn’t it a little warm for that?”

“I’m chilled,” she lied knowing that she had been wearing baggy clothes so she could wait for the perfect moment to tell Negan that she was pregnant. It wasn’t like she was showing a ton, but for a while she had been wearing baggier clothes to make sure she was hiding anything that was showing. “I’ll be okay.”

Negan waited for Asher to get ahead of them to run up to the door before he moved up toward it. Negan pushed open the door and watched Asher run from room to room. Tension filled his entire body. Asher was a kid, of course he would be excited to see everything and all at once. It took a while before Negan could get him to calm down and he helped set him up in one of the guest rooms upstairs. Asher was excited to have his own room and Negan watched from the door while Asher jumped on the bed.

“You gotta be careful bud. Don’t go too high, I don’t want you getting hurt,” Negan held his hand in the air watching Asher bouncing over and over again. A groan fell from his lips when he lowered his head into his hand. The soft caress of Y/N’s hand pressed in over his wrist and he lifted his gaze to her. “As soon as my doctor is available, we are going to get that DNA test, I am so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. We are fine,” she hushed Negan, sliding her palm down the side of Negan’s face in a comforting sweep. Looking to Asher spinning before dropping down on the bed, Y/N cracked a smile and called out to Asher. “You want to go see the beach in the backyard?”

“There is a beach?” Asher quickly shot up from the bed and pushed through the both of them to hurriedly move down the stairs. They followed him toward the back of the house and when they got there Asher was trying to figure out how to open the back door. Negan unhooked it for him and Asher shot out the back door immediately hopping down into the sand. “This is so cool! I can’t believe you have a house on the beach!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, huh?” Negan half smiled watching Asher running through the sand. “Don’t get too far into the water, okay?”

“Okay!” Asher ran down closer to the water but stayed near the edge like Negan had asked of him.

Moving to the steps of the deck, Negan dropped down onto one of them. Y/N sat down beside him and Negan looked to her again with his worried hazel eyes, “I am so sorry. You never asked for this when I asked you to marry me.”

“Negan,” she watched him reach for her hand to look over the ring that was on her ring finger. “I’m not going to be upset with you for potentially having a child that you didn’t even know about. More so, I’m mad that Sherry threw him on you last minute. She should have told you immediately if she thought you were the father I don’t understand why she waited until the end of the year to tell you that Asher was yours.”

“That’s why I’m fucking confused,” Negan looked toward Asher and let out a tight groan. Sherry had made multiple attempts to sleep with him, but not once did she make it seem like she had something important to tell him. Having a kid was a pretty big fucking deal, so keeping it from him once she saw him again really bothered him. “I believe I slept with her when I was younger, which makes me fucking hate myself more, but…”

“We do stupid things sometimes,” she assured him with a shrug of her shoulders. It wasn’t something she really wanted to picture. Sherry was someone she had been jealous of for quite some time, but if Negan slept with Sherry and didn’t remember her, that said a lot about Sherry in the long run. She was forgettable and while Y/N shouldn’t have got pleasure from knowing that, she kind of did. It just wasn’t something she really wanted to picture. Although, the conversation she had with Sherry in the locker room felt ridiculously awkward after knowing Sherry had a potential child with Negan.  “As long as it was just a past thing and that’s all it was…”

“Y/N, I’m engaged to you. Junior down here in my pants is not going near anyone else,” Negan promised hearing her laugh out at how he described him manhood. “I’m just saying, there is no one else that will be sleeping with me. I feel almost a repulsion for Sherry now, so the idea that I slept with her when I was younger really bothers me. Just thinking about what I did then bothers me so fucking much.”

“I understand,” Y/N swallowed down hard and knew he was upset with himself for cheating on his late wife like he did. “It’s a hard thing to think about.”

“I just wish I would have grown up faster,” Negan looked to Y/N and pulled her hand up to him so he could deposit a kiss over the back of it. “I should have changed for her like I have for you. I was such trash.”

“You’re not trash,” she corrected, knowing that when he got thinking about Lucille, he would often get upset. “You were lost.”

“Which is another way of kindly saying I was an asshole,” Negan reminded her with a half-smile, allowing her to lower her hand into his lap.  “I swear, I always thought I was careful sleeping with people.”

“It could have been worse I suppose,” she looked toward the water to see Asher picking up seashells by the water.

“God, look at him. She has him in clothes that are way too big for him,” Negan frowned, looking over the boy that had just dropped into his life out of nowhere. “This poor kid. He’s been through so fucking much and if he’s my son we need to change it immediately.”

It really seemed like Negan was bothered by the way Asher had been living his life thus far and she didn’t blame him. Squeezing her fingers tightly around his, she wanted to be as supportive as she could. This was a lot to take in as it was. It was hard to believe that Sherry would just throw Asher on Negan like she did. Who does that?

The way that Negan was staring out Asher drew her attention to him. He was clearly thinking about something as he called out to Asher, “Hey bud? Do you have a glove to play catch or something in your bags?”

“No,” Asher called out, running back up the beach while holding a few shells in his hands. “I’ve never had a glove that was mine.”

“You’ve never had a glove?” Negan confirmed as his face flushed over with red. “How about we go to a few of the stores out here and get you one? The three of us can play catch together later. Maybe I can get you some new clothes. Some that would fit you. Would you like that?”

“I mean…I kind of just get what I get,” Asher looked down at the shirt he was wearing, tugging on the material before looking up at Negan. “The idea sounds really cool though. You don’t have to do that. You don’t even know if you are my real dad.”

“Let’s not worry about that,” Negan shook his head and stood from the deck. His fingers were still hooked with hers while he spoke to Asher. It was like she was his strength through all of this and she knew that he needed her to be there for him.

“What do you have there bud?” Y/N called out from where she was seat and Asher excitedly moved beside her to lay the seashells down on the step beside her. “Wow, those are really pretty.”

“Here,” Asher reached for one that was very colorful after surveying the shells and held it out to her. “This one is for you.”

“For me?” she looked down at the seashell and Asher nodded, a bright smile expanding over his young features. “Are you sure you want to give me this? It sure is pretty and you worked so hard to get it.”

“Of course,” Asher confirmed, moving forward to wrap her fingers around the seashell. “It’s the prettiest one I found and I want you to have it.”

“I will cherish this Asher,” Y/N winked, reaching out to pat over Asher’s shoulder and out of the corner of her eye she could tell that Negan was watching the interaction between the two of them closely. The way Negan was looking at her made it seem like he was in awe of her and that wasn’t purposeful. She just knew what it was like to have a hard childhood so she was doing her best to make Asher feel comfortable and happy. While this was hard for Negan, it also had to be weird for Asher too. Being thrown around as it was had to be hard for him, but to be dropped off with a complete stranger had to be scary. “Thank you so much sweetheart.”

“Is there a place we can put these?” Asher looked over at Negan when he began to pick the seashells back up. “That way I don’t lose them when we go to the store?”

“Sure thing buddy. Let’s wash them off and then we can dry them on the counter while we’re gone,” Negan offered and Asher excitedly followed Negan into the kitchen. Asher was just a little bit short of the sink and Negan had to lift him up so he could wash his hands. “We’ll have to get you a footstool so you can wash your hands.”

“Thank you,” Asher’s voice almost squeaked while he cleaned the seashells off. “I’m a little short, but maybe one day I will be tall like you are.”

It was actually sweet watching Negan help Asher. Negan wasn’t used to kids and that was obvious, but it had to be hard having a seven-year-old just immediately thrown on you. There was no time to learn and grow with Asher, he just showed up.

After they were done with the seashells, Negan did what he promised he would do. He took Asher to town and got him clothes. Negan was very specific about what he wanted to get Asher. It was almost amusing for Y/N to watch Negan picking out the clothes for Asher. It kind of seemed like Negan was excited to be doing it.

Asher was just happy to have something that was his own, so he didn’t complain at all. In fact, when Negan was getting things that kind of resembled the things that he would wear, Asher was super thrilled. Even if Asher wasn’t Negan’s son, it was nice to see Negan doing this for the young boy. He had clearly felt bad for Asher and to see him helping Asher was the sweetest thing.

“You look fucking sharp buddy,” Negan stood behind Asher in the mirror after Asher had put something on to try. “You know what would make this look better?”

“What?” Asher looked up at Negan and Negan pulled the water bottle he had from his back pocket. Negan lowered down and poured some of his water into his hands before reaching out to push his fingers through Asher’s hair. Styling Asher’s hair like he would often do his own, he could hear Asher’s laugh filling the air and Negan’s nose wrinkled. Asher stepped around Negan to look at himself in the mirror and he posed making both Negan and Y/N laugh. “Oh yeah, I look good. Much better now.”

“He sure is full of personality, isn’t he?” Negan looked up at Y/N from where he was knelt on the floor beside Asher who kept winking in the mirror. “This will all be yours, okay? No more clothes that are too big for you. Is there anything else you want to try on?”

“I can pick?” Asher looked to Negan with a surprised expression. “Like, anything?”

“Anything,” Negan agreed and Asher’s hazel eyes surveyed the store when they fell upon a leather jacket. Negan looked over his shoulder and saw what Asher was staring at. “You liked my leather jacket at home, huh?”

“You look really cool in it,” Asher announced, his eyes wide when Negan stood up and moved across the store. Negan pushed through the jackets before finding one that he thought would fit Asher. Coming back, he urged Asher to hold his arms out so he could help put it on him. Once they were done putting it on, he watched Asher step closer to the mirror surveying it. “I could really have this?”

“Do you want it?” Negan breathed and Asher quickly nodded his head. “Then it’s yours.”

Asher said nothing, simply just turned on his heel and ran to Negan. A grunt escaped Negan’s throat when Asher hugged him tightly and Negan looked to Y/N as if he wasn’t sure what to do. Patting Asher on the shoulder, Negan cleared his throat and his eyes met the store clerk. Negan got a lot of clothes for Asher and they had to make a stop at the car to drop things off before going to get a few gloves for the three of them to play catch. They took their time in picking out the perfect glove for Asher who was shocked that he was getting his own glove to keep. The excitement Asher had toward getting a glove was amazing to see and adorable. Asher was close to a stranger for them, but the fact that something as simple as a glove could make him that happy was beautiful to see.

On their way back to the car after finding the right glove for Asher, Negan took notice of the way that Asher stopped at an ice cream shop window to look inside. The way Asher was staring made Negan realize that he likely wanted something, “You want something buddy?”

“Would that be okay?” Asher looked over his shoulder at Negan who shrugged his shoulders. They had been pampering Asher, but hell…the kid deserved it at this point. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t had any in a while.”

“You don’t have to apologize for wanting something kiddo,” Negan insisted with a shrug of his shoulders, “all you have to do is ask and we’ll get it for you.”

“Really?” Asher looked to Negan with big eyes and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Come on bud,” Y/N reached for Asher’s hand, urging him to follow her into the shop. Negan followed them not far behind and the eagerness Asher had to eat almost worried Negan. Like he may have not been being fed like he was supposed to. Negan watched while Y/N and Asher surveyed the glass covering that had all the flavors behind it. It was sweet to watch them interact and Negan was truly surprised at how well Y/N was taking all of this. “We found what we want Negan. What do you want?”

“Surprise me,” Negan winked and saw her nod while she talked with Asher. When they handed Asher the ice cream cone, he could see how happy Asher truly was over it. “Hey Ash. Why don’t you pick out a flavor you’d like to take home in a quart for dessert later?”

“Yeah?” Asher took a big bite of the ice cream he already had and Negan nodded. Quickly he scurried in next to Y/N again to pick something he would like for later. A laugh fell from Negan’s throat when Asher nearly pressed his whole face to the glass to look at each ice cream closely. “Thanks Negan.”

The look Y/N gave Negan was almost amused before she handed Negan over his ice cream cone. When they were done getting their ice creams, they had walked down by the beach so Asher could get a better look at a large boat that was going by.

“You would make a good dad, you know that?” she stammered and Negan looked to her with a small smile. He obviously thought she was just trying to make him feel better. Negan had been nervous the whole time about messing up and she knew that he was trying really hard to make Asher happy. There was no doubt in that, but it made her start to think about the baby that was growing inside of her. The way she felt about it began to feel awkward as she cleared her throat and spoke up again. “You are a father, Negan.”

“Well, we don’t know that yet,” Negan whispered looking back toward Asher again. That was a fail. He thought she was talking about Asher and she felt her cheeks flushing over. It was almost embarrassment that she felt. How was she going to tell him that she was pregnant with his child? “I mean, I want a kid. I’ve always wanted a child, but…this would make me an awful father wouldn’t it if Asher truly was mine?”

“That’s…not what I meant,” she frowned looking down toward the ground knowing that would have been an awful way to tell him that she was pregnant. Asher was fresh in the mind and clearly that’s what they were going to be stuck on for a while. It was best for her not to ruin the moment for Asher since he needed the attention he was getting. “But you’re not a bad father if you didn’t even know he existed Negan.”

“Part of me feels like I am,” Negan looked to Asher again watching Asher bounce as the boat went by. It was almost sweet how easily he got excited and happy by things. “That little boy is clearly not being taken care of. If I would have known, I could have helped…”

“You’re helping now,” she moved to him and noticed that he had some chocolate on his face from eating his ice cream. Reaching up, she wiped it away with her thumb and then tipped up on her toes to hook her arms around Negan’s shoulders. “You are an amazing man.”

“Not nearly as amazing as you are,” Negan hummed, leaning in to meet her lips in a kiss. The taste of chocolate lingered over Negan’s lips and when his tongue brushed in over hers, she heard Asher’s voice interject.

“Get a room,” Asher snorted and Negan pulled away, his eyes looking down at the boy who was making his way back to them. There was mischief in his eyes and it was clear that Asher was proud of himself for saying what he did. “Adults are weird.”

“Yes they are,” Negan smirked, reaching out to pat his hand over Asher’s head. Asher didn’t seem bothered by their intimacy other than cracking the joke he did, but Negan realized he should probably cool it a bit when they were in front of Asher. “You ready to head back home?”

“Home?” Asher repeated Negan’s words and Negan swallowed down hard. It was clear that Asher thought this was all very temporary in life for him so the idea of Negan’s home really didn’t mean his home for him. “You mean go back to your home?”

“Yeah,” Negan nodded feeling bad at how Asher had picked up on that. Negan reached for Y/N’s hand as they walked back to the car. Asher was enamored with the small town and it was cute to see. The way he had such an awe for things was sweet in itself.

It was toward the end of the night and Negan had decided to order pizza, but while they were waiting Asher was eager to try out his new glove outside. They were in the back in the sand playing together. Asher was having a hard time catching the ball and it was frustrating him. It was clear Asher was being extremely hard on himself and Negan held his hand up in the air.

“Hey, it’s okay. We just have to break the glove in a little bit,” Negan moved before Asher, reaching for the glove. He worked with it for a moment or two and Y/N could see from where she was standing that Asher was embarrassed. “When we first get a glove, it’s a little harder to work with you know? It’s stiff and not as easy to catch things.”

“You are such a good player. If I’m your son and I suck, that’s just…” Asher sighed, his eyes meeting Y/N’s, “sucky.”

“Hey, you don’t suck,” Y/N moved forward while Negan helped with Asher’s glove. “I love softball, but I wasn’t good immediately. It took work and with someone like Negan helping you…you learn fast and you get good.”

“Yeah, but you’re good. I remember,” Asher pointed out with a bright smile when he recalled the time he went to one of the games with his mom. “I was at a game you were at.”

“Yes, you were,” Negan muttered remembering the first time he had met Asher was at one of their games. “She was the best on the team.”

“Sometimes Negan says things to make me feel better about myself,” Y/N chuckled and Asher was eager to shake his head.

“No, he’s right. You’re great,” Asher corrected her. “I agree with Negan.”

“See, the kid knows talent when he sees it,” Negan snapped his fingers and pointed at Asher who smiled even bigger. Asher was proud that Negan liked his comment and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, I was trained by Negan so if you let Negan help you…you’ll be great,” Y/N insisted, reaching out to touch Negan’s shoulder. Giving it a squeeze, Negan looked up and gave her a wink before handing the glove back over to Asher when he felt like he loosened it up a bit.  

The pizza delivery guy showed up and Y/N left Negan to play with Asher for a little while longer as she got the pizza. She took her time in setting up the table in the kitchen before going to watch Negan and Asher together for a little while. Standing on the deck, she watched the two of them throw the ball back and forth. For a while, Asher continued to miss until he finally caught one. When he did, Negan threw his hands up in the air and Asher cheered out.

“I did it,” Asher held his hand up in the air, waving the glove to show Y/N from where she was standing on the deck. The way Asher bounced over and over again would have shown his excitement if it weren’t already completely plastered over his face.

“You did it!” Negan repeated with a proud sound. The reaction Negan had to Asher catching the ball was adorable.

Maybe worrying about telling Negan about the baby was silly after all. He was great with Asher, even if he was uncomfortable. Negan was going to be a good father to her child, no matter the outcome. That was one thing their time with Asher was definitely proving to her.

They played for a little bit longer before having dinner. Asher excitedly talked about catching the ball a few times over dinner and after he asked if they could watch a movie together. It was a sweet moment between all of them. Asher requested that he sit between Negan and Y/N during the film which they were obviously okay with.

Toward the middle of the film, she looked to see that Negan and Asher were sharing the ice cream from the quart that Negan had gotten earlier in the day. It seemed like Negan was already pretty damn accepting of the idea that Asher might be his son. It was kind of adorable watching the two of them bond over the small things.

The amount of questions Asher asked during the movie were kind of amusing. It didn’t seem like Asher has a dull moment in his life, but Negan continued to answer his question without getting upset. A few of his questions were quite amusing and it was hard not to laugh at him.

The longer the movie went, the more comfortable Asher seemed to get between the two of them. His head was resting against Negan’s shoulder while he tried to keep himself awake to finish the film with them. Asher was clearly fighting a losing battle because a few minutes later, she had noticed that Asher had fallen asleep on Negan. When Negan noticed he was sleeping, Negan motioned her to turn off the television. There was no sense in finishing the movie without Asher since he had specifically asked to watch it with them.

Carefully, Negan had grabbed Asher and carried him up the stairs to the room he had Asher set up in. Watching Negan with Asher made Y/N’s heart full. She pictured what he would be like with their child and it made her all the more excited for the future that they would share together.

“Do you think he needs anything?” Negan laid Asher down in the bed and carefully adjusted him to pull the blankets in over him. Negan took a look around the room for the bags that Sherry had given him. When they were at the other house, Negan had noticed that Asher slept with a very worn-down teddy bear. Finally finding it, Negan grabbed a hold of it and put it carefully into bed with Asher beside him.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Y/N leaned against the doorframe, watching Negan staring down at Asher while he slept. There was a lot going through Negan’s mind and she could tell that he was in anguish over what he was thinking.

A loud sigh fell from Negan’s lips as he moved across the room to her. Negan’s hands slid in over her hips and he leaned down to press a quick kiss over her lips, “I guess we should go to bed too.”

“Okay sweetheart,” she closed the door behind her when Negan led her out into the hallway after they turned the light off for Asher. Negan didn’t say much once they left Asher’s room. He was quiet, but by the look on his face he was deep in thought. By the look on his face she could tell that he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept that much since Asher showed up and rightfully so, but during the night while they were laying down, he kept tossing and turning. If he was thinking about things, she wished he would have just talked to her about everything instead of keeping it in. “Negan?”

“Sorry, I’m not trying to keep you up,” Negan grumbled, dropping his head heavily back into the pillows. Y/N turned to face him in bed and could see that he was frustrated. With the way he moved and sighed, there was no way she would have fallen asleep even if she tried. With him so upset though, she knew it was best that she was awake to help talk things out with him. “I just…I don’t know what to do.”

“You seem to be doing perfectly fine right now,” she pointed out, reaching out to caress over the center of Negan’s hairy chest. Playing with the curls of hair, she heard him let out a long exhale and she leaned in to kiss over his jawline. “I think you are stepping up amazingly for that little boy”

“Then should I really get this DNA test done? What if he isn’t my little boy?” Negan swallowed down hard, “He deserves to be treated good. Maybe I shouldn’t get the DNA test. This way it guarantees that I get to be in this little boy’s life.”

“That’s completely up to you,” Y/N stated with a small shrug. “I support anything you do.”

“Would I be a monster if I got the DNA test done just to make sure I was the father, so I could get full custody of him if he is mine?” Negan was quiet in the way he asked the question and Y/N’s eyes got a bit wide. “I know that would cause a ton of shit and I guess I should be asking your permission right now if I’m thinking of going through with that.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Y/N saw the frustration fill Negan’s face. That was a lot to take on, but she could see that Negan was sure that was something he wanted to do by the way he looked at her. There was no way that he had to ask her for permission for something like that. If Asher was his son, he had every right to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to ask her to do that. “You’re good with that boy.”

“And Sherry isn’t,” Negan pointed out with a frown, “If that boy is mine, he should be with someone who will love him and take care of him, but you never asked for that. This was thrown on you just as much as it was thrown on me. Asking you to be a step-mom to my son full time might be a lot to ask of you.”

“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters,” she insisted, meeting him in a kiss and Negan let out a relieved sound. “I will back any decision that you make. She just dropped this boy off not knowing a thing about what you were like. That in itself shows she’s not a good parent.”

“Right? Who does that?” Negan grunted, very frustrated with Sherry and what she had done with Asher. “If that boy is my son, I don’t want him getting thrown from place to place like he has had to live. I want him to be with me. I want to know that he is safe and not worry about what boyfriend of Sherry’s he is staying with next.”

“And I support that,” she nodded, reaching out to caress over the side of Negan’s rough features. “If he’s your son, I think you have every right.”

“It’s so hard knowing what I should do,” Negan scoffed, feeling her crawling in closer to him. The warmth of her resting against his chest made him sigh and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “I’m so glad I have you here with me.”

“Watching you today with that boy made me realize how much I really love you. You’re going to make an amazing father,” she informed him, her hand caressing over his lower abdomen and Negan sucked in a sharp breath. “You remind me over and over again how lucky I am to be with you by being the amazing man that you are.”

“Hey…” Negan lifted his head when he felt her hand slipping beneath the material of his boxer briefs under the blankets. A nervous sound fell from Negan’s throat as she grabbed a hold of his body. “With Asher here…”

“Just be quiet,” she urged, leaning in to press soft kisses over the side of his neck. Pumping her hand over his flesh in drawn out caresses, she could feel him hardening in her grasp and Negan’s head dropped back. His eyes closed tightly and the muscles in his neck were tense. “Today made me realize that you would be a great father for any child…our child.”

“Yeah?” Negan licked his lips, his eyebrows tensing together while her grip got tighter around him. “I don’t know about that.”

“No, you’d be perfect,” she lowered her head to deposit soft kisses over Negan’s chest and she felt him completely solid within her grasp after a few more strokes. “What do you think of the two of us having a baby?”

“I think…I think it’d be a great idea,” Negan muttered, his soft moans filling the air while her jerking motions continued over his body. It was the first time he had gotten to relax and not worry while her hand caressed over his body. Inhaling sharply, Negan lifted his head to watch the movements her hand was making beneath the blanket and he bit firmly into his bottom lip. “Is that really something you want to take on with potentially having a seven-year-old around the house?”

“Oh, I think Asher would make a good big brother,” Y/N answered, being quiet in the way she moved. Negan swallowed down hard when he saw her reaching beneath the blankets to push her pajama pants down her body. Negan bit down on his bottom lip and watched her carefully move in over him. Licking at his lips, Negan took his time to watch her as she braced herself over him. Negan lifted his hips and helped push the material of his boxer briefs down far enough down to release his hardened body into her grasp. “You can be quiet, right?”

“Yeah,” Negan’s lips were parted as she led the tip of his body into hers and his eyebrows furrowed. He bit harder at his bottom lip when he felt her body enveloping his and his thigh muscles flexed at how incredible it felt. Grasping tightly to her hips, Negan arched his hips up to help her bottom out over him and he saw her eyes close tightly. “The idea of us having a baby turned you on?”

“The idea of you being a good father did,” she reached back, placing her hands over Negan’s hairy thighs to brace herself while she rocked herself over his length. They were careful in their movements, making sure not to be too loud. Their movements were drawing both of them to let out muted sounds that they tried to cover up with their hands or by kissing. Negan’s deep-rooted groans pressed in over her lips while she focused on kissing him to keep him quiet. “The idea that I get to be yours officially makes me so happy.”

“Even after everything that has happened?” Negan lifted his head to watch her body’s movements over his. Licking over his lips, Negan watched her working herself over his length. The way in which she knew to do things now was amazing. She went from being the shy innocent girl to knowing exactly what to do to drive him crazy. “You still want to be with me?”

“Even more,” she maintained, fighting to contain a whimper that wanted to fall from her throat. Gripping tighter to his thighs, she rocked her hips over his and felt Negan’s hips bucking up to meet her movements. “You are the most amazing man…”

“Fuck,” Negan scoffed, his head dropping back when she pressed her right hand forward to brace it on his lower abdomen while the other still was firmly grasping to his thigh. The pace she set was fast, taking him inside of her again and again making Negan grasp tightly to her hips. His right hand lowered between her thighs, his thumb caressing over her clitoris while she took advantage of his body. Each rock forward her hips did over him aided in the caress his thumb had over her sensitive bundle of nerves and she did her best to stay quiet. “I’m going to cum.”

“Yeah?” she felt the muscles in his body flexing beneath her touch and she eagerly rocked harder over him. Her eyes slammed shut when she felt his caress getting harder over her body, trying to get her to a release as well. A whine fell from her throat, but Negan’s free hand reached up to cover her mouth to keep her silent. Negan sat up to press his lips in over hers to keep them both quiet when she reached her orgasm. Her body shook against his, but she tried to keep up with rocking over him until he pulled his lips from hers. His nose nuzzled against the side of her neck and he bit at her flesh trying to keep himself quiet during his release. Caressing her hand over the back of his neck, Y/N played with Negan’s wet hair and tugged on it after he was done. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Negan rested his head against her clothed chest, cherishing the warmth of her over him. “What’s that?”

The sound of the doorknob being turned was heard and they both quickly moved as Negan called out, “Asher wait! Don’t come in here.”

Negan quickly pulled his boxer briefs back up his body while Y/N reached for her pajama pants. The rate at which they pulled their clothes back on was incredibly fast as Negan let out a frustrated sound and pulled himself up into a seated position on bed with his back against the headboard.

“Okay,” Negan called out when he made sure that Y/N was good and Asher pushed open the door slowly. The look that Asher was giving them was odd as Negan flicked on the light that was beside the bed. “What’s up bud?”

“Were you guys trying to have sex?” Asher blurted out and Negan choked. Negan looked to Y/N and she was surprised herself to hear what came out of his mouth.

“Don’t say that. Don’t…” Negan shook his head and let out a tense breath. “What…how do you even know what that is?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard a lot of the guys my mom has brought home talking about sex. Mom lets me watch television and goes away with her boyfriends to another room,” Asher recalled in a smaller voice when it was clear that Negan was upset with what he said. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“You’re seven, you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t even know what that is,” Negan pulled the blankets back and saw the way that Asher looked up at him. The more he learned about Sherry and all the things she had done to Asher; the more Negan was certain that he needed to get this boy away from Sherry. “Does your mother do anything right?”

“I…don’t know,” Asher let out a nervous sound and he cleared his throat. “Should I leave?”

“What’s wrong honey?” Y/N sat up further in bed and reached out to squeeze over Negan’s bare shoulder.

“I know…I know I’m a boy and I shouldn’t be afraid, but do you have a nightlight?” Asher kept his head lowered while he looked down at the ground.

“A nightlight?” Negan repeated and Asher’s face flushed over with a blush. Feeling bad that he got so upset with Asher over what he said, Negan pulled himself to the edge of the bed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure I do. Just give me a second.”

Negan searched for a light for Asher while Y/N took Asher back to the bedroom they had set up for him. Asher crawled back into the bed and he was silent before looking to Y/N with a saddened expression, “I didn’t mean to upset him. I made him mad.”

“He’s not mad at you sweetheart,” Y/N tried to insist, knowing that Negan was just upset over the fact Asher was so young and should have never known about sex. “I promise you he’s not.”

“I know I should have knocked first; I didn’t mean to…” Asher reached up to rub at his eyes. Y/N was thankful he showed up when he did and not earlier because if he would have showed up earlier it would have been a lot worse. “I’m just afraid of the dark and with the sounds of the water, I just…”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” she hushed him from where she was sitting at the bottom of his bed.

“Dwight, the guy that my mom thought was my dad for a while told me that nightlights were for babies,” Asher explained with a frown, recalling what he was told by one of his mom’s boyfriends. “He told me that I wasn’t a man if I needed a light.”

“Well that guy is an asshole,” Negan’s deep voice filled the air when he moved into the room. Negan found a plug and put in the light for Asher. It was bright enough to make sure that room could be seen from his bed. “We’re all afraid of something and I hate to tell you this Asher, but you are a little boy. You aren’t a man.”

“I know, but he said…” Asher whimpered thinking back to what Dwight had told him in the past. “He just told me I would be embarrassing to him if people found out.”

“Well ignore him because he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Negan insisted with a grunt, hating to hear the way people talked to this little boy. “You are still young. You are a boy; you are meant to be a child. You shouldn’t know the things you know and you shouldn’t be talked to the way you are.”

“I know what I said upset you,” Asher repeated his previous worries, his saddened hazel eyes looking up at Negan, “I swear I didn’t mean to upset you Negan.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Negan noticed how desperate Asher was to apologize to him. “I just…you’re a little boy. There are things you shouldn’t know. You’re too young to understand what you are even talking about.”

“You’re not going to punish me, are you?” Asher clutched to his blanket and Negan moved across the room to sit at the side of the bed. Negan reached out to caress at the back of Asher’s head in a soothing manner trying to comfort the boy from his fears.

“Buddy, I’m never going to punish you,” Negan looked back at Y/N with a frown knowing that this boy was clearly abused in the past. That in itself made him realize that he had to get the DNA test done and he was going to fight for full custody of Asher if Asher was in fact his. “Hey, listen…in a few days I’m going to take you to my doctor, okay? And we’re going to get a few tests done and then you will never have to worry about getting punished again, okay? I promise you.”

“Really?” Asher’s worried glance looked between Negan and Y/N. “Never again?”

“Never again,” Negan answered with a firm nod. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, do you understand me?”

“You can’t promise that,” Asher frowned looking down at the blanket and Negan felt his heart breaking for the little boy before him. “I’ve heard that before. Mom had some nice boyfriends in the past, but they never stick around.”

“You’re not going to be hurt while you’re here Asher,” Negan promised looking back at Y/N with tears in his eyes when all of what Asher was saying to him was affecting him emotionally. Y/N was crushed as well hearing the things that the little boy was saying. “Does your mom hurt you Asher?”

“She yells at me a lot, but she never hurts me,” Asher answered with a shake of his head. “It’s always the boyfriends. I get pushed and shoved a lot. Sometimes they grab my wrists and drag me.”

“Jesus,” Negan bit at his bottom lip getting angry at the sound of that alone. “And your mother just lets it happen?”

“She would get hurt if she didn’t,” Asher insisted and Negan found himself wanting more and more to keep this boy completely to himself. The fact that Negan was abused when he was younger connected him to this boy even further. It broke his heart at the idea that Asher could be going through the same kind of abuse that he had a child with his own father. It made Negan feel like a failure that his own son may have been going through abuse over the last seven years and there was nothing Negan could do about it. “I promise I won’t talk about that stuff again.”

“You’re just seven buddy, you need to talk about the things that normal seven-year-old boys would talk about,” Negan pointed out with a shake of his head. “We’re going to work on that together though. Okay?”

“Okay,” Asher laid back in his bed and let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you for finding the light Negan.”

“No problem,” Negan brushed his fingers through Asher’s hair before getting up from the bed. They both said goodnight to Asher before walking into the hallway. When Negan closed the door to Asher’s room, he looked to Y/N and she knew that Negan was about to break. She reached for Negan and took him into her arms to hold him tightly. “We have to take care of him.”

“I agree,” she breathed, pressing a kiss against Negan’s temple when he leaned down to cuddle in closer to her.

“I want to give him a good life. One for a kid,” Negan informed her, thinking of the things he could do while Sherry was away on her vacation. “But we need to get that test done as soon as possible.”

Negan led her back to the bedroom and slumped down to take a seat on the edge of the bed. Sitting down beside him, she reached for his hand and could see that all of this made Negan an emotional mess.

“My whole life I was abused,” Negan reminded her, looking over at her with a sad expression. “I always told myself that if I was a father, I would be the opposite of my own dad. Yet I have a boy in there that may be my son who had to go through abuse.”

“That’s not your fault Negan,” she tried to insist, sliding in beside him to caress over the side of his face. “If you would have known that you had a child, you would have never let that happen. You and I both know that.”

“Yeah, but this is just as much my fault if I wasn’t careful that night with Sherry,” Negan announced with a whimper in his voice. “If I slept with her and I didn’t both to be careful, I didn’t care if I brought that child into the world. By being careless, I brought that child into a world where he would never be safe. Do you know I used to say the same thing about my mother when people would find out I was abused and they asked if my mother let it happen? I would just tell them that she would get hurt if she stood up for me so it was okay. I have to get him away from her.”

“Then we will,” she slid her hand in over the side of Negan’s face knowing that he would be extremely emotional over something like this considering what they both had been through with their parent’s abusing them. “I will back you until the end Negan. We will do whatever we have to.”

Wrapping her arms around Negan, she pulled him in close and knew that she meant what she said. It was something that was important to Negan, so it was important to her. She would do whatever she had to in order to help Asher and Negan.  

A few days had passed and Negan had done the best he could do in making every single day with Asher perfect for him. Each day was surrounded around giving Asher a fun experience. Other than when Negan had to go to work to fill out some paperwork, they were doing things to make Asher happy.

This morning both Negan and Asher were together in the kitchen cooking breakfast together. It was cute because they had gotten Asher a footstool to stand on and he was helping Negan crack eggs into a bowl.

“Shit,” Asher blurt out when he got a shell in the bowl and Negan cracked a smile before a snort filled the air. It was kind of amusing hearing the swear words that came from Asher’s mouth. Asher may have not looked like Negan, but he did kind of have Negan’s mouth on him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s an easy fix,” Negan managed to get the shell out before tossing it in the sink. “See, no problem.”

“I’ll be right back,” Asher dropped down from the footstool and moved out of the kitchen. When Negan heard Asher move up the stairs he looked to Y/N with a frown.

“Do you know that Sherry hasn’t called or texted once to check on Asher?” Negan blurt out with an uneven breath. “What kind of mother would do something like that? He’s seven years old.”

“She’s worse than I could have pictured Negan,” Y/N admitted knowing that Sherry was odd, but she never thought Sherry would be the type to abandon her son. “Do you think he’s bothered by it?”

“He’s mentioned her name a few times,” Negan answered knowing that Asher had talked about Sherry and wondered how she was. It didn’t seem like he was ridiculously upset about not having contact with her, but it was still not something that made him happy. “Do you think this is the first time she left him to himself alone?”

“I don’t know Negan, but the best thing is that he’s getting to spend his time with you,” she pointed out knowing that Negan seemed to be having a good time bonding with this boy.  “We don’t know how Sherry is with him.”

“I’m used to her not being around,” Asher’s voice made them both jump as Asher clearly had come back downstairs without the two of them hearing him. Asher had something in his hands and Negan cleared his throat uneasily. “I kind of just take care of myself. She’s home sometimes, but...she has to deal with a lot of pressure.”

“You shouldn’t have heard that,” Negan frowned and Asher shrugged before moving across the kitchen to give Negan what he went upstairs to get. Negan reached for the paper to see that it was a drawing Asher had done with the supplies Negan had bought him the other day. “What is this?”

“It’s the three of us. Here at the house and by the water,” Asher reached for the footstool to drag it across the kitchen so he could help make the eggs again. “It’s not great, I’m not very good, but I thought you might want that. You don’t have to though.”

“No, I like it,” Negan lifted the drawing up for Y/N to see so she could take a look at the drawing Asher did. It made her smile and Negan moved over toward the refrigerator to put the drawing up under a magnet. Asher looked at him with such adoration when Negan pointed toward the fridge. “That deserves a prime location, don’t you think?”

“I think that’s a perfect place for it,” Y/N agreed with Negan, coming to squeeze supportively at Asher’s shoulders. “You’re a talented little man, don’t you ever think otherwise.”

“That’s the first time someone put my art up,” Asher muttered with a frown, but he smiled when he looked at the fridge again. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Negan moved in beside Asher to help him finish breakfast. “I’d say I’m pretty damn lucky to have you here helping me out.”

“Thank you,” Asher pushed at the scrambled eggs while Negan worked beside him. “I know you didn’t want me here at first…”

“I was just surprised, that’s all. It wasn’t about not wanting you,” Negan reached with his free hand to rub his fingers through Asher’s hair. He messed the little boy’s hair up a bit before giving him a wink. “I’ve had fun.”

“This is the most fun I’ve ever had,” Asher admitted with a grin looking between Negan and Y/N. “You guys are so nice to me.”

“And you are so nice to me,” Negan playfully nudged Asher with his hip causing Asher to fall back into Y/N’s arm who was standing behind him. “Ooops.”

“You got a big butt,” Asher giggled after Negan had knocked him off the footstool. It was lucky that Y/N was behind him to catch him, but Asher seemed completely amused.

“He’s just powerful, Negan has no butt,” Y/N muttered in a teasing tone and Negan gave her a look that made Asher begin to crack up.

“Always getting teased about my lack of a butt,” Negan rolled his eyes and Y/N helped Asher back up onto the footstool they had gotten him.

“Thank you,” Asher was tall enough to hug Y/N and it made Negan smile. It seemed like Y/N had really done a good job in connecting with Asher. It surprised Negan how easily she accepted Asher into their home and was nice to him. “You saved me from buttless.”

“Hey now,” Negan dramatically feigned being offended and Asher snickered. Negan watched Y/N helping Asher finish with things before he spoke again. “Do you like it here Asher?”

“Yeah,” Asher simply answered, reaching up to rub at the side of his face. “Usually I’m alone or mom’s boyfriends take care of me. I eat cereal a lot alone, so I like our meals together.”

“Would you want to stay with Y/N and me? Even if we moved to another house?” Negan muttered and Asher lifted his head. “I was thinking that maybe after we took this test today and we got the results, you might want to stay with me.”

“Really?” Asher stammered; his young voice clearly not sure what to say. “I like it here with you two.”

“So, you wouldn’t be upset if I tried having you with me full time?” Negan confirmed and Asher nodded. “What about your mom?”

“I’ll always love my mom, but…I’m lonely with her,” Asher admitted as he felt Y/N caress over the center of his shoulders. “Here, I’m happy. You make me feel special.”

“That’s because you are special sweetheart,” Y/N assured Asher with a calming tone. “You’re an amazing little boy.”

“This test will see if you’re my dad?” Asher lifted his head to look up at Negan with his big eyes. Negan nodded and Asher spoke again, “Like really really soon?”

“A few days,” Negan answered with a shrug.

“I hope you’re my dad,” Asher swallowed hard and reached for the bowl that him and Y/N had made of the scrambled eggs. Carefully he hopped down from footstool and set the bowl down on the table. “You’re so nice to me.”

“You’d be okay with me if I was your dad?” Negan lowered down to his knee to be level with Asher. “You wouldn’t be upset?”

“You’re already the most amazing dad,” Asher hopped forward to wrap his arms around Negan’s neck to squeeze tightly around him in a hug. “No one has ever been this nice to me.”

“Oh, buddy,” Negan lifted Asher up and held him in his arms. Y/N could see that Negan was getting emotional about everything that Asher was saying to him. At this point, she knew that Negan didn’t care if he was the father or not. He just wanted to take the test to make sure he was his father so he could have sole custody of Asher. “I’m gonna do my best to make sure you don’t have to go back to that, okay?”

“Really?” Asher pulled back enough to look at Negan and Negan nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem bud,” Negan felt Asher resting his head on his shoulder and Negan slid his hand up to pat Asher between the shoulders. Lifting his head, Negan could see that Y/N was standing in the corner of the kitchen watching them together. There was a grin over her face and Negan felt blessed that she was so okay with this.

They went through breakfast and enjoyed their time together before heading to the doctor’s office to get the DNA test done. Asher was sitting on the evaluation table as Negan’s doctor prepared things.

“This won’t hurt, will it?” Asher pondered, looking over at Negan who was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.

“They are just going to swab your cheek sweetheart,” Y/N stepped forward to brush her fingers through Asher’s hair. Asher was pale and he was clearly nervous in the way he was rocking on the table. “It’s painless.”

“Negan is doing it too?” Asher confirmed and Negan nodded, his hazel eyes hooked on Asher.

Truthfully, Negan was nervous doing this. Not for the same reason that Asher was afraid, but he didn’t know if he truly wanted to know if he was this boy’s father. Asher had such a horrible life from what it seemed and he wanted to give the little boy something special. By not getting the test done, he could just keep on getting Asher from Sherry, but deep down he knew that if he let Sherry take Asher back, she could continue to do what she had been doing to him. This way, if he knew for certain that Asher was his son, he could keep Asher and keep hm safe. This was the only reason he was getting the test done. To make sure that he could keep Asher with them.

“Will you hold my hand?” Asher requested of Y/N when Negan’s doctor came to do the test. Y/N of course agreed and held onto the little boy’s hand and it took no time at all for Asher to get the test done. “Wait…that was it?”

“That was it,” Y/N smiled brightly and Asher perked up immediately. “No big deal, right?”

“Not at all,” Asher looked to Negan who moved across the small room to help Asher down from the table. Asher ran over to the chair in the corner and sat down while Negan’s doctor wrote something down. “I was sure that would hurt. You’ve got nothing to worry about Negan.”

“Funny how things work out, huh?” Negan’s doctor stammered as he stepped before Negan. “First you find out you’re going to be having a baby and now you have this little boy thrown on you?”

“What?” Negan tilted his head to the side when his doctor grabbed a hold of his face. Negan opened his mouth for the doctor to swab his cheek, but then spoke up. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I’m not having a baby.”

“That’s funny,” Negan’s doctor went to finish things up and Negan snickered.

“Doc, are you getting too old on me here?” Negan breathed out and Y/N could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest. This was the doctor that she had found out she was pregnant from and he just blurt out what she had been wanting to tell Negan for so long but hadn’t. “I think you’re thinking of someone else.”

“No, the young lady came to see me when you were in the hospital,” his doctor explained and Negan looked to Y/N. Her cheeks flushed over with red and Negan cracked a smile, his eyebrow arching up when he looked to Y/N. Clearly, he still thought the doctor didn’t know what he was talking about. “I guess this is congratulations since we haven’t seen each other.”

“Negan…” she called out his name when Negan went to say something more and Y/N nodded. “He’s right. I was trying to find the right way to tell you about things, but so much kept happening. I’ve been wearing baggier clothes to try and hide it from you.”

“Is this a joke?” Negan smirked, watching Y/N reach for the hoodie she was wearing to pull it off. Negan had been so distracted lately that she knew he wouldn’t be able to tell. It wasn’t all that obvious yet, but she knew that she had gotten a little bit of stomach. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” she nodded and Negan let out a hesitant laugh.

“Oh goodness,” Negan’s doctor looked between the two of them and he gave Y/N an empathetic look. “I’m sorry dear, I just assumed that…”

“We should probably talk,” Y/N stepped forward and watched Negan slowly get up from the evaluation table. His face was pale and Negan nodded. “I’m sorry, I just…”

Negan’s legs gave out and Y/N reached out to grab a hold of him. Negan’s hazel eyes looked her over and he looked extremely pale, “Hey?”

“I’m okay,” Negan waved his hand in the air and Y/N did her best to keep him up. When Negan convinced her that he was okay, she released him and went to talk to Asher so she could have a free moment to talk to Negan. The sound of something falling over was heard and Y/N looked over her shoulder to see Negan grasping onto the table. “Shit.”

“Negan!” Asher squeaked when Negan hit the ground hard and Y/N got up while they both scrambled to Negan. “I thought you guys said that test didn’t hurt.”

“I think he just had a syncope episode,” Negan’s doctor urged them to move aside so he could look at the unconscious Negan. After checking Negan’s vitals, he let out a calm voice and looked to them with a reassuring glance. “This may take a few minutes for him to wake up, but he’s fine.”

“He doesn’t look fine,” Asher slid in beside Negan when the doctor got up and went to get help to get Negan up. Asher tapped at the side of Negan’s face and Y/N felt awful about the way Negan had just found out she was pregnant. “Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,” Y/N assured with a half laugh when Asher poked at Negan’s cheek. “Just shocked. I think that’s it. I hope that’s it.”  

----

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