#and for a long time you simply recover and live peacefully

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

okay hear me out- SAGAU but with sea monster Foul Legacy

sea monster Foul Legacy who smells the golden blood in the water during one of his hunts, hastily swimming to catch the body floating in the sea. he's never seen you in person before, but oh- you're so familiar.

he brings you to shore, away from any cities- oh no, you're bleeding- and carefully pats your wounds with seagrass, fretting as he waits for you to wake up. what should he do- you're obviously the Creator, there's no doubt about it- why in the world are you so hurt?! why were you sinking into the sea, why hasn't Teyvat been celebrating your return, why-

Legacy chitters in surprise when you shift, letting out a few coughs and cracking open your eyes. with a strangled scream you shoot upright and try to scoot away from him, only for Legacy to lower his head and whine sadly. of course you wouldn't want to be around him, he's a monster. but your movements eventually slow, breathing heavily as the cuts sting and sear, and after a moment he tentatively dabs more seagrass against the injuries, trying to show that he means no harm. when he's sure that you won't struggle and accidentally hurt yourself, Legacy gently nudges you into a sitting position with a gentle trill.

he has to hold himself back from just staring in awe. his god, the Creator, is right here in front of him! but he can see the way you shiver, the gleaming blood staining your skin- you need care, not worship. so Foul Legacy shifts closer, gently settling his scaled tail over your legs and pressing his cheek against yours, feeling how you shudder in his arms like you've been running and screaming for years. you stiffen at first but quickly melt into his tender embrace, sniffing as relieved, exhausted tears begin to drip down your cheeks.

on that night, a god finally found an ocean of safety to call their own.

[angelzofdecay]

If you die

FT- Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Welt CW- death, murder, mourning, angst, hurt no comfort A/N- I'm sorry the voices told me to

Being the man that he is Blade wouldn’t react to your tragic passing at first. He would remain stoic concealing all of his feelings of despair and rage. For the longest time he didn’t believe that he could love, let alone be loved by another. The loss of you meant the loss of hope.

If you were murdered by the hands of another, he would eradicate them from the solar system. Anyone who worked with them may as well die too... He’ll need a place to vent out his frustrations. After the massacre and probable bounty put on his head afterwards, he would break down. If you died by illness or age, something he couldn’t take revenge on would be far worse. Blade would have nothing to take his inner feelings out on besides himself and maybe a few rouge robots. Eventually, his facade would be, and he would mourn you. Somewhere quiet, dark and alone and he would succumb to his inner turmoil. He would shed a tear or few but mostly likely scream his anguish and curse what had caused your unfortunate passing. He would never waste his time with another. Once you were gone, so was the last of his heart and no one could fill the void you left. 

Jing Yuan has a bit more composure than Blade. Of course, he would mourn but wouldn’t make an outright spectacle of his. Your funeral would be as grand as your life, and he would spend every penny to be sure your memory was engraved into the world forever. If your precious life was stolen by a living thing, he would use all his power to have it wiped out. Now, if you were taken by an illness, he would make use of his funds by trying to find a cure. A way to prevent it from ever taking another dear life from someone else. Without you the days became dull and fruitless. It felt as though time itself had stopped when he heard the news. Jing nearly fell to the floor when he heard but simply excused himself to run to his private chambers. He wailed once he was alone like a lost child. He’ll feel exactly like a lost child who had lost the person most dear to them. It would take a long time for him to ever recover and find someone new. 

The mourning process for Dan Heng is a combination of both prior characters. Unlike either of them when he heard of your passing he fell to his knees. His breath hitched in his throat, and he swore his heart constricted and tried to kill him as well. Instead of slaughtering everyone related to the murderer or using his popularity and coin to have them destroyed he enlists the help of the Astral Express Crew. They all adored you for how much joy you brought their dear friend so they would stop at nothing to bring the criminal to justice by any means necessary. An illness taking you suddenly would be soul crushing for Dan. There wasn’t anything he could do besides be by your side until you took your last breath. The healing process for him would come slow… He visited your grave on your birthday and the anniversary of your death and left offerings to celebrate your life and afterlife. He cleaned your tombstone so it would shine just like you did. 

Welt is the most mentally stable of the group. How would he react if you died? Probably by becoming an even more stoic recluse. At night he would reach out for you forgetting that you were gone. He swore to protect you and failed, and he’ll never let himself forget that. Why should he live on peacefully when you can’t live at all? He goes by the book when it comes to seeking justice for you, but it doesn’t change the fact, he wished he could make them suffer like you did. He prayed he could make the sickness disappear from the universe all together. When he’s alone he still twiddles with the dumb stuffed bear he gave you that still smells exactly like you. Himeko has done her best to distract him, but your ghost continues to haunt him… Although he finds a sort of comfort in that. 

[thesovereignsring-if]

Family members and RO'S reaction to MC on their death bed. Bring out the angst.

5 am agnst let’s goooooooo! I’ve been thinking about this long and hard. I didn’t know how to answer this for a while, but I think I know how now. Hahaha 😝

Finny: Crazy crying mess. He’d be in denial. He’d lash out and think there were be a way to fix things- until he can’t. Then he’d cry and curse the gods and then try to do everything he can for the MC, just so that he could spend as much time as he can with them. Instead of dying in bed, Finny would take the MC outside somewhere petty and meaningful to both of them. Probably a flower field if some sort and then he’d hold the MC and quietly cry as they pass on.

Thea: Would sit down and bring the box of letters she exchanged with the MC as children. She’d read them out loud and explain her thoughts at the time and what was going on in her life. When she’s done, she then pull out all the letter’s she never sent. The ones where all her real feelings are written. She’ll promise to write more even after the MC passes on because the love she has for them is timeless.

Linnet: She’d put up a front. She’s try her hardest to keep it together so that the MC can pass on without troubles or regrets. She’d put a front right until it’s time to say goodbye, then she’d be a mess. She’d confess all her affections, all her worries and regrets…but also how much she admires and appreciates the MC. She start talking about all the things she’s grateful for and she’d thank the MC for being alive and loving her. She promise to look after Alberich and Sieg for them and asks them to wait for her in the afterlife with a pinkyswear.

Medea: She’d cook the MC’s last meal and make sure it’s all their favorite things. She’d make sure they’re comfortable and have everything and anything they wanted. Then when it’s time to go, she’ll be honest with her feelings for the first and last time. She’d talk about her hopes and dreams-the ones she wanted to share with the MC and then say goodbye. But, if the MC was in any kind of pain, I’d think she’d be the one to ‘let them go’ peacefully. She’d want to do it with her own hands. Afterwards, I don’t think the MC would be alone for long.

Helios: Nobody would be able to find Helios. They’d think Helios dipped and abandoned the MC, but in truth, Helios would sneak in once the MC is alone and simply lie in bed with them. They’d want to try and imprint the feeling of the MC in their arms, remember every little detail, every little imperfection, the warmth and the smell. Afterwards, they’d have a tattoo of a little swan (the family sigil) right on their heart. A momento of their lover.

Eirik would be in denial. He’d try fighting the reality of the situation, he’d yell for a doctor or anyone to help the MC. But when he realizes there’s nothing he can do- he’ll break. The facade falls and Eirik becomes honest with this feelings for the first time. He’d be pathetic and beg the MC not to die and leave him alone. He’d finally say something along the lines of ‘I love you’. he’ll even be honest and say he might not be able to move on from this loss. Afterwards, he’d buildt a whole ship in memory of the MC.

Alberich: If Al had his way, I think he’d want to have some alone time with the MC. He’d pull up a chair and get their favorite book out and read, just like he would when they were children. He’ll hold off the tears and read the entire book until the MC ‘falls asleep’. Before breaking down and crying.

Sieghardt: I don’t think h’d show up, not unless someone forces him to. The idea of out living his youngest sibling and not being there for a majority of their live would eat at him to the point where he thinks he doesn’t deserve that spot on the bedside. Once the MC passes, he’d visit the their tombstone every single chance he gets. I don’t think he’d ever recover from the grief.

[cerunilea]

You know, I hope that Bagi works herself up about preparing to try and help Cellbit get out of his self-destructive spiral of vengeance towards the Federation while he's asleep...

...Only to be confronted with, instead of the fury and reawakened murderous intent shown in the deciphered note, a quietly desperate, tired man who has resolved himself to peacefully face the consequences of the one time he finally got a step over Cucurucho in what ended up as nothing but a pyrrhic victory after so long of fighting every other moment since his arrival. Her brother who has finally given up and just yearning for a future where he can live happily with his family, even if stuck on the island with his hands in chains of neutrality and inaction. Shades of grey and dull blue rather than the fiery reds of anger and blood, at this point just prioritizing the people he cares about most and hope for a future with them together but unsure if even that will fully come true or last, since all his previous actions will fall upon him soon in some way that could tear that all away.

How would Bagi react? Would she feel hope, that the self-destructive path she was fearing was not underway? Or would she feel despair, caught off guard by the vast difference in energy and priorities as was previously shown, the biggest issue instead the oncoming inescapable consequences coming for her brother whom she just got back, properly back, after so many years? There were signs of the latter even during her last conversation with him, but she quickly forgot those moments over the elation from simply being able to reconnect with him along with Cucurucho's sudden appearance interrupting them at the end.

Regardless of what is actually going on with Cellbit right now, let alone how he will actually be after his weeklong rest trying to recover from what honestly seems like one of the lowest points he's been since his (re)arrival to Quesadilla Island, it's just interesting to think of the possibilities of how everything will fit together in the meantime. (going insane, it's only been a day)

[writing-abt-headspaces]

Mishap At The Moth’s Studio (Part 4)

A/N: Okay, so Vox is actually my favorite of the Vees. (A.k.a The one I pay attention to the most.) So, be prepared for him to be the softest one of the three here.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Finally, they made it to the makeshift nursery. The moth slowly made his way to the adult-sized crib, while rocking the little spider in his arms to keep him asleep.

“Rock a bye Angel, snoring about. Please stay asleep, don’t freak the fuck out…” Valentino aggressively sang, as he cradled the spider. Angel kept stirring awake, whenever he heard the slightest noise of the moth’s squeaking.

“Tino, stop making that noise!” Velvette quietly hissed at the moth demon.

“Fuck off! It’s not something I can control!” Valentino hissed back, finally making it to the crib.

Angel was gently placed inside the crib, still sleeping peacefully to his heart’s content, sucking on his pacifier, all curled up into himself.

Vox, who eventually recovered from his hysteric episode, reached into the crib and pulled up the blanket near Angel’s feet to cover the rest of him. He sighed, looking down at the spider with a mix of frustration and…. mild affection. Angel kind of looked like an actual child like this….

He shakes the feelings away, “Alright, he's settled for now."

Velvette sighed, leaning against the crib. "So, what do we do when he wakes up?"

Vox simply shrugged, “We’ll crossed the bridge when we get there…”

Valentino groaned, rubbing his temples. "Babysitting a regressed spider demon was not on my to do list today…."

Vox shot him a sharp look. “Well, maybe if you didn’t push him so hard, we wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s a scared toddler now, because of you. Just deal with it."

If anyone noticed Vox’s tone change to sounding a bit more protective, they didn’t point it out.

It’s no surprise to anyone in this building, that Vox was never really a fan of Angel Dust. Considering this stupid fucking spider was the number one reason Valentino is always bitching about and throwing his stupid temper tantrums, adding more work to the TV demon’s already busy everyday life, but damn… if he didn’t secretly have a soft spot for kids…

He had a long list of sins that condemned him to hell, longer than the combined height of himself and his business partners stacked up on top of each other, but harming children in any way wasn’t one of them.

During his days hosting the news, topside, he’d dox people, spill information or twist the truth, fabricate or exaggerate the appearance of a crime scene, ruin reputations of celebrities and political figures, for the sake of good television (and good pay. I mean, he had to make a living after all). But, if there’s one thing he respected, it would be the choices of the children involved in crimes he had to make reports on.

He offers to play a small game with them, in exchange for some information on the crime they witnessed or were the victims in, and even promises to blur their faces and leave them unnamed. And he was a man of his word; kept his end of the bargain all the time.

Vox was no saint, he wasn’t someone worthy of heaven, and he was even proud of that fact. But, he has his soft spots. And that would be child innocence.

He once again shakes the thoughts away and coughs. “I’ll continue the rest of my work here…”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Vox walked to the other side of the room as he speaks, “Val, Velvette, you can leave and tend to your own work, but make sure to come here as soon as possible whenever I call for your assistance.”

He reaches for the laptop left on the table next to the door, which he had asked Papermint to leave for him, and turned it on, aleady opening files and typing away.

He suddenly felt eyes on him, and turned back to the other two. “What?”

Velvette’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, “Okay. What the fuck is up with you?”

Valentino leaned against the crib, folding his upper set of arms and placing one of his power hands on his hip, as he glanced between Vox and Velvette, intrigued. Velvette's directness often amused him, especially when directed at Vox, who could sometimes be too composed for his own good.

Vox paused momentarily, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he assessed Velvette’s judging gaze. "What do you mean?" he replied, maintaining his cool demeanor.

"You’re being weird.” Velvette said, uncrossing her arms to gesture vaguely at Vox. "First, you fussed over Angel like an insomniac nanny, on our way here—“

“Because I fucking dropped him.” Vox cut her off. “What was I supposed to do? Not worry about what would happen if we permanently damaged his brain? He could stay stuck like this you know?”

Velvette chose to ignore that horrifying possibility and continued, “Then you snapped at Tino like you're his mother."

Valentino snickered under his breath. The other two assumed, he was trying to hold in a ‘I can call you ‘mommy’ if you want?’ joke.

Vox's brow furrowed slightly, betraying a hint of irritation. "I'm merely ensuring we handle this situation with the necessary care. This isn't just about managing Angel; it's about safeguarding our operations here at the V Tower."

Velvette raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Suure. But, how do you explain this… protective attitude over itsy bitsy.”

Vox shot her a stern look, his jaw tightening briefly before he composed himself again. "Like I said, this isn’t about Angel." he stated firmly. "It's about maintaining stability and avoiding unnecessary attention. The last thing we need is a scandal."

Velvette sighed, recognizing that there WAS validity in Vox's concern. "Fair enough," she admitted, relaxing her stance.

Vox sighed quietly, turning back to his laptop. "Good. Now, let me focus on my work.”

Valentino shrugged, straightening up from the crib’s side. "I'm going back to my studio to check what scenes I can still get done without Angel."

Velvette followed behind Valentino, “And I’m going back to working on my designs.”

Vox nodded, acknowledging their leave. "Good. We'll reconvene if anything changes."

The three of them dispersed to their respective duties, leaving Angel sleeping peacefully in his crib, and Vox working on the other side of the room.

.•.•.

Vox was fully immersed in his work, his eyes didn’t leave the screen despite feeling tired. Until small coughing and gurgling noises, pulled him out of his focus.

He turned around and sees Angel, pushing himself up to bend over the crib, spitting out his pacifier and throwing up a bit of the milk he drank on the floor.

“Tummy hurt…” Angel quietly muttered, sounding like he was trying to hold in tears. He was definitely still in his headspace.

Vox immediately went to Angel, grabbing a couple of rags from the supplies drawers, and wiping down the mess on the floor before using another rag to wipe off the mess on the spider’s face.

“The fuck happened to you? I’m sure that milk was—Oh.” His confusion turned to realization. “I forgot to burp you before letting you sleep, didn’t I?”

The little spider looked at the TV demon timidly, hesitantly holding his hands up and making grabby motions.

Vox sighed, “My bad, kiddo. Should’ve remembered to do that after the bottle.”

He hooked his hands under Angel’s underarms, and used all his strength to pull him up. “Up you go.”

Ignoring the burn of humiliation he was feeling, he sat himself down on the nearest chair, and adjusted Angel’s position on his lap.

“Oh my fucking god, what the fuck am I doing…?” Vox muttered under his breath as he landed gentle pats on the spider’s back. Angel rested his head on Vox’s shoulder, hugging him tightly.

The position was a bit awkward, due to the fact that Angel and Vox were almost the same height, but the TV demon tried to push that aside, as he tried getting Angel to burp.

As Vox gently patted Angel's back, he felt discomfort. This wasn't the usual stuff on his to do list—caring for someone so fragile and innocent. Yet here he was, comforting the regressed pornstar who had found himself in an unexpected state of vulnerability.

Angel squirmed slightly, his little hands grasping at Vox's shirt as he burped softly, some milk residue bubbling up from his tiny mouth. The spider demon let out a small hiccup, then settled against Vox's shoulder, his eyes half-closed with fatigue.

Vox sighed inwardly, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

"You alright there, kid?" Vox murmured, trying to sound reassuring despite his own uncertainty. He continued to pat Angel's back gently, feeling the spider demon's tension slowly easing.

Angel nodded weakly, mumbling something incoherent as he clung to Vox's shirt, and burped a second time.

“Ready to go back to sleep?” Vox asked the little spider.

Suddenly getting a second wind, Angel’s eyes shot open and he wiggled out of Vox’s lap.

“No! Not sleepy anymore!” Angel said, crawling around the floor, looking for something to do.

Vox watched with exasperation as Angel, now energized, crawled around the nursery floor in search of something to occupy his newfound wakefulness.

“Alright then, what do you want to do?" Vox asked, leaning back in his chair with a resigned sigh. He scanned the room, taking in the various toys and books that he discreetly ordered, hoping any of these would catch the spider demon's interest. There was even a playpen, in the corner of the room, big enough for the spider to move around in.

Angel, however, seemed more intent on exploring. He crawled around, back and forth until he grew tired and went back to Vox.

Angel patted Vox’s knee to get his attention. “Bored…” He says.

Vox was about to tell Angel to try out the coloring books on the shelf, so he can get back to work. But, an idea sparked in his mind.

He looked down at Angel, and once more, put on his best showman face. “Wanna play a game with me?”

Angel’s eyes lit up, and he rapidly nodded his head. “Yeah!”

Vox smiled at him, “Okay. The game is called knock knock—“

“Who’sh there?” Angel answered almost immediately.

Vox actually snorted at that, but shook his head. “No… Not a knock knock joke. It’s called Knock-Knock-Freeze.” He says as he recalled one of the few games he made up to entertain the children he had to question.

This one was his favorite to use, since it always made the kids feel like it was a fair deal; whoever wins, will decide if they stay quiet or tell the truth. Being bigger and faster, Vox of course, always one. But, he’d let them have fun by prolonging the chase.

Vox starts explaining as he points at the wall, “I’ll stand over there and face the wall, away from you, and I’ll knock on it three times. Then after knocking three times, I’ll turn around to see if you’re moving. While you, have to move forward everytime I’m looking away and freeze everytime I turn to look at you, until your close enough to tag me.”

“And then…?” Angel asks, tilting his head.

“When you tag me, I have to chase you, and if I catch you, I win. And if I win, you have to answer some questions I want to ask you, okay? Promise?” Vox instructed.

“O’tay! I pwomise!” Angel said, excitedly.

Vox nodded his head, and walked towards the wall, keeping his back towards Angel.

He brought he knuckles towards the walls, and knocked. “One. Two. Three. —Freeze!” He quickly turned around to look at the little spider.

Angel had been mid-crawl, freezing instantly when Vox turned around. He stayed perfectly still, his wide eyes locked on Vox, who took a moment to scan him for any movement.

“Good job,” Vox said with a smirk, then turned back to the wall to knock again. “One. Two. Three. —Freeze!”

This time, Angel managed to move a bit closer before stopping abruptly when Vox spun around again. The TV demon kept a keen eye out for any slight movements but found none.

Angel giggled, enjoying the game immensely. Vox continued the cycle of knocking and turning, and Angel moved closer with each round, his excitement growing. On the final turn, Angel was close enough to tag Vox’s leg, but he waited for the perfect moment.

Vox, who knew Angel was just right behind him, purposely knocked much slower this time. “One… Two… Three…” and then he slowly turned his head.

Before he could even say “freeze,” Angel lunged forward, tagging him with a triumphant squeal.

“Got you!” Angel shouted, his body vibrating with excitement.

“Aren’t you good at this?” Vox grinned, “Alright, now it’s my turn to catch you.”

Angel’s eyes widened in playful fear, and he scampered off, his movements quick and uncoordinated. Vox gave chase, deliberately moving slower to prolong the game. The room echoed with Angel’s delighted laughter as he dodged and weaved around furniture.

Finally, Vox lunged, carefully wrapping his arms around the little spider and pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Caught you!” he announced, laughing along with Angel.

Angel panted, still giggling. “O’tay! TV man wins!”

Vox sat back down, settling Angel in his lap. “Now for my questions,” he said, his tone softening. “Can you tell me the name of your caregiver?”

Angel’s smile went away as soon as he heard that. He looked away and stayed quiet.

“Hey, kid. You promised to answer me.” Vox pushed, but didn’t raise his voice.

“Don’ ‘ave one…” Angel answered quietly.

“What?” Vox blinked in confusion.

“I don’ ‘ave anyone to take care of me…” Angel answered more clearly.

“You mean… no one at the hotel takes care of you, when you’re like this?” Vox asked further.

“Uh-uh…” Angel shook his head. “Didn’ wanna tell em. I’ll be prob’em to them… I go small by myself. But Nuggy’s there…!”

Ah. So, he copes by himself.

It seems that the happy go lucky princess of hell, rubbed off on Angel; he doesn’t want to bother anyone with his own issues. Or was he always this reserved when it came to his personal problems? Vox doesn’t really know.

It’s a complete head scratcher how he hasn’t broken down into his littlespace in public, much sooner. How does a little take care of themself, with only a pet to keep watch of them?

They should have a caregiver assigned to them. Or a babysitter, at least.

“Well, you’re gonna need someone to take care of you, kid. You can’t always be by yourself. You don’t want this to happen again in front of more people now, do you?” Vox asked, trying to convince Angel.

“No…” Angel shook his head.

Vox gave Angel gentle pets on his head. “Good. Now… do you remember the password to your phone even when your small?”

Angel looked up at his screen innocently, “Why?”

“So, we can call up your friends back at the hotel to—“

“Nooo! No! No! No!” Angel cut him off, and started thrashing about in Vox’s lap.

Vox tightened his grip slightly to prevent Angel from falling off his lap. “Hey, calm down. What’s wrong with calling your friends?”

Angel continued to thrash, his face contorting with fear and panic. “They’ll hate me! They’ll think I’m weird! I don’ wan them to know!”

Vox sighed deeply, trying to think of a way to reassure the little spider without escalating the situation further.

He’s not one to talk about the ‘power of love or friendship’ and all that bullshit. But, he knows one thing for sure after watching that one interview with Katie Killjoy. Lucifer’s brat, is too sugar sweet for Vox to picture her making fun of Angel’s classification, let alone judge him for it.

He’s not sure about the other hotel staff, but the princess would definitely be all mother hen over the little spider. Vox wouldn’t even be surprised if her classification was a caregiver too. She could probably provide him with much better care and supplies. Fuck! Angel would be a nepo baby if Charlotte Morningstar was the one looking after him!

“Angel—“

“Can you do it? You’re really nice!” Angel pleaded with the TV demon.

“…What!?” Vox almost let go of his grip on Angel.

“Pwomise I won’ be bad whenever I’m big again! I’ll be good! Big or small.” Angel continued to beg. “I just don’ wanna be my friends prob’em!”

Vox was flabbergasted.

What the fuck was his mindset? He’d rather be taken care of by the TV demon, than the puppy dogs and sunshine loving princess of hell? All because he thinks he might burden her?

He glanced over at Valentino and Velvette, who he finally noticed were watching from the doorway.

“Val, Velvette, a little help?” Vox called out.

Velvette stepped forward, “Well, what the fuck happened here?”

“Do you want the bad news or the worse news first?” Vox asked.

Valentino walked in as well, already not liking what Vox would say. “Where’s the good news?”

“Unavailable.”

“Bad news then…” Velvette reluctantly said.

“So, bad news… Angel doesn’t have an assigned caregiver. Nor does he have anyone back at the hotel who knows about his classification. He’s been coping on his own.” Vox answered.

It wouldn’t exactly be bad news for them, if it weren’t for the fact that they’ll have to deal with Angel, if he doesn’t have any other lap they can plop him down on.

“And the worse news…?” Valentino dared ask.

Vox loosened his grip on Angel, nervously looking away from the other two. “Uh… I think he might’ve imprinted on me.”

Velvette and Valentino exchanged incredulous glances, then turned their attention back to Vox with bemused expressions.

"You're kidding, right?" Valentino's voice betrayed a mix of amusement and disbelief. "He's imprinted on you? Voxxy, I didn't think you were into that kind of thing~” He teased, earning a sharp look from Vox.

"Don’t turn this into fucking Twilight! You know very well, that’s not what I meant!" Vox retorted, his tone serious. "He's just... attached, I guess. He asked me to take care of him, said he doesn't want to be a problem for anyone else."

Velvette let out an exaggerated groan, rubbing her temples. "So, let me get this straight… the little baby bitch doesn’t have a caregiver, AND NOW he wants you, to be the one to take care of him?"

Vox nodded reluctantly. "That's about the size of it. And while I'm… kinda flattered with how attached he is, it's not practical. I’m not even classified as a caregiver. We need to find someone from the hotel who can do this."

Valentino, who had been quietly thinking, groaned. “Looks like we have to convince him…. But, we have to do it the ‘doting way’…”

He tried to hide his displeasure, as he bent down to meet Angel’s eyes. “Angelcakes… pequeño… I get that you don’t want to bother your… friends, but this isn't about being a problem. It's about making sure you're safe and cared for. The ‘TV man’ here can't do this all the time, and you need someone who can be there for you whenever you… uh… regress."

Angel pouted, looking between the three demons. "But... I don’t want to be trouble..."

Velvette knelt down to Angel's level.

Great. Time to talk ‘sappy’.

She mustered up the gentlest voice she could speak in. "Listen, Itsy Bitsy, your friends at the hotel care about you. They won’t think you're weird. In fact, I’m sure they’d want to help you. The princess, I know for sure would be ecstatic of this. Don’t you think it’d be nice for a princess to take care of you?”

Angel fidgeted, looking down at his hands. "I guess so…”

Vox, sensing a moment of vulnerability, joined in. "Well, I know so. Miss Bleeding Heart—err… Her majesty, is the kind of person who would go out of her way to make sure you're taken care of. She’s got a big heart. But you have to let her know. Keeping this to yourself isn’t going to help anyone.”

Then he added, “The three of us are busy most of the time. We only made these adjustments today, because of what happened. Of course, it doesn’t mean we won’t be watching over you from time to time—“

“Wait. What—“

“Shut up, Val.” Vox momentarily tore his gaze from the spider to shoot the moth a glare. “Unless you plan on tearing apart his contract, we really can’t avoid having to babysit again. I’m trying to negotiate here!”

He returns his gaze to Angel, “We’ll help out whenever we can, okay kid? But you need a primary caregiver who knows you and can be there when you need them."

Angel’s eyes welled up with tears, but he nodded slowly. "O’tay... I’ll try to talk to Char’ie."

Vox smiled encouragingly, pinching the spider’s cheek. “That’s the spirit. And who knows, she might even make it fun for you."

Angel sniffled, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "O’tay... I’ll do it."

Vox felt a sense of relief wash over him. "Good. Now, Mr. Butterfly is going to get your phone and we’ll call up your friend."

Though he grumbled curses under his breath from the nickname, Valentino went to retrieve Angel’s phone anyway.

He returned, and tossed the phone to Vox without warning.

If it weren’t for the moth doing that countless of times in the past already, it would have caught Vox off guard. But the TV demon caught it, unfazed.

“Hey sport, I’m gonna need the password now.” Vox wave the phone infront of Angel.

“My cake day…” Angel answers.

“Cake day?” Vox repeated, raising a brow.

“He probably means his birthday.” Velvette said.

“Val, what’s his birthday?” Vox looked up at the moth.

Valentino’s distasteful face turned into a nervous smile. “Um…” He looked away, while messaging his chin, trying to recall the birthdate.

“Wow, Val. Fuck you.” Vox said bluntly.

The moth spread all his arms out in exasperation, “Oh what!? Like I had time to remember the bitchy twink’s birthday!?”

“Well, it’s kinda important right now!” Vox said, trying not to crush the phone in his fist.

Angel watched the exchange nervously, still clutching onto Vox's shirt. He suddenly remembered something and piped up, "Silly pranks day! That's my cake day!"

“April first.” Velvette translated, though she didn’t really need to.

Vox typed the number of the month and date on the phone, and sure enough, it unlocked. He quickly navigated through the contacts to find the princess’ number.

- (Bomb-bastic Baddie 🍒💣)

- (Tiny Psycho🪡🔪)

- (Vagina👁️❌)

- (My Hubby😻)

- (Sunshine Bitch☀️)

- (Gimp Pimp😒)

He decided not mention the contact names. Especially, “Gimp Pimp” and whoever the fuck “My Hubby” could be. The last thing Vox needed was for Valentino to become a second whiney baby to handle.

He clicked on Sunshine Bitch, knowing it was most likely the princess’ number. He hit the call button and put the phone on speaker.

The phone rang a few times before a cheerful voice answered, “Hello! This is Charlie Morningstar!”

Shit. A voice recording…

“I’m not on the phone right now. But, please leave a message after the beep, and I promise to get to you. BEEEEP!” The cheerful voice giggled at her imitation of the actual beep which followed just after.

Vox sighed and held the phone up to his face, “Princess Morningstar, good afternoon… This is Mr. Vox, speaking through Angel’s phone, I’m sure you know me. Don’t worry, Angel is safe and unharmed. But, we do need you to come over here as soon as you get this message. I won’t specify the situation, as to not worry you. Just make sure to come here soon, and we’ll explain everything.”

When he finished he sent his voice message.

“Looks like we have to wait, for her majesty to receive the message…” Vox said handing the phone to Velvette, who placed it down on the desk.

“Can I color, while waiting?” Angel asked, with sparkling eyes.

Vox shrugged, “Sure kid. But, can do it in the playpen. My legs are sore, from you sitting on me.”

He sat up from the chair, and picked Angel up and gently placed him on the floor, so the spider can crawl his way to the playpen.

As Angel crawled into the playpen, he immediately spotted a box of crayons and coloring books nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed a few crayons and a book filled with different cartoonish hellspawn animals to color in. As he sat down on the soft foam padding and flipped through the pages, he began to hum a tune to himself, completely engrossed in his newfound activity.

Meanwhile, Vox sat back down and absentmindedly watched Angel color. Valentino stood nearby, idly tapping his nails against his arm, his mind clearly preoccupied with thoughts of his own. Velvette leaned against the wall, sketching away in her sketchbook, that Vox only now took notice of, and the very thing she’s drawing in it.

“What is that?” Vox pointed at the drawing Velvette was occupying herself with.

“Hm? Oh.” The woman lifted the pad for Vox to see. “Since, you said we’d still have to deal with him, when he regresses at work, I decided to design some ‘littlespace clothes’ for, Itsy Bitsy.”

“Why? What’s wrong with what he’s wearing right now?” Vox asked.

Velvette rolled her eyes, “I don’t care if he’s got baby brains. I ain’t letting anyone here prance or crawl around in a tacky oversized sweater and ugly Christmas socks.”

Valentino snickered at Velvette's blunt response. "Hey, those socks are comfy, alright? But I guess if you're designing something, it better be sexy and stylish."

Velvette shot him a deadpan look. "This is for a toddler, not a nightclub."

"Hey, you never know," Valentino teased, winking at Vox. "The little pequeño could use some glam even in his smaller form."

Vox sighed, rubbing his temples. "Let's focus on practicality here. He needs clothes that are comfortable and safe. We don't want anything that could be dangerous or inappropriate. Remember Val, this isn’t the same Angel right now.”

“Right. Fine….” The moth turned away.

Velvette nodded in agreement. "Of course, I'm thinking soft fabrics, easy to wash, nothing with choking hazards or irritating seams. But, it would still look stunning!”

Vox’s face scrunched up in concern, “Toddlers and Tiaras stunning? Or—“

“Ew. No! Never fucking bring that up to me ever again!” Velvette glared at Vox. “I meant MY STYLE stunning. ‘Velvette’ stunning! As all my brands have always been.”

Suddenly an idea sparked in the woman’s eyes. “Wait! That’s perfect!” She exclaimed, standing up.

“What is?” Valentino asked the woman.

“We can turn this into a new part of our business! We can sell clothes, for littles! We can drag more people in, since there are barely any baby supplies in hell! Save for hellborn babies, but I bet ‘littles’ don’t have much for themselves down here.” Velvette said to her business partners. “We can even get good publicity from this! If they think we care about littles, we’d be gaining more trust!”

“I already thought of a name for the brand: ‘Little Angels’ by Velvette! Place your trust in us, like your littles trust you!”

“That’s great and all Vel, but the whole regressed Angel thing is supposed to be a secret remember?” Vox said to the woman. “Angel Dust being a little won’t look good on the news, especially since all of hell knows he works under Val.”

Velvette rolled her eyes again, and groaned. “Ugh! So? We can just twist the story! Instead of Angel Dust himself being a little, let’s say it was either one of my employees or yours. And….” She snaps her fingers trying to come up with an alternate story.

“Angel came accross them, regressing, while preparing for a pinup shoot. And then he says he’s a caregiver! So, Valentino gave him time off to take care of them. And then that’s when we came up with the idea to design clothes for littles! And the brand name.”

Vox considered Velvette's proposal, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That's... actually not a bad cover story," he admitted. "It deflects attention from Angel and, we don’t have to worry about any caregivers antagonizing us."

Velvette grinned, clearly pleased with the positive response. "Exactly! This is too fucking good of an opportunity to ignore!”

Velvette turned to Angel. “Itsy bitsy, can you stand up?”

Angel looked up from his coloring book, as he processed what Velvette had asked.

“Uh-uh… legs wobbly…” Angel answered shaking his head.

Velvette waved it off, “That’s fine. I think I can work with your current position.”

Using her powers, she waved her hands in the air to change Angel’s clothes, into one of the cute onesies she designed. She continued to swipe right until the perfect outfit appeared on Angel; a frilly yellow dress, with puffy sleeves.

“Perfect!” Velvette exclaimed, enthusiastically.

“Ooh…!” Angel looked down at himself, and fiddled with the frills of the dress’ top, and kicked his feet at his new socks. They were more fitted, but comfortable thin white cotton, with blues bows decorating the toe ends of the socks. And his bottom was even more covered up by the dress going down to his knees.

Angel starts giggling, “Pretty!”

Velvette went up and pinched his cheeks, and cooed at him. “Who’s our sweet little bundle of political gain! You are! Yes you are~ Aren’t you just the cutest cash cow!”

Angel blinked up at her confused.

Vox snickered, shaking his head. "You're gonna scare the kid, Vel. Tone it down a bit."

Velvette rolled her eyes but complied, letting go of Angel's cheeks. "Fine, fine. But you have to admit, now that he’s in this dress, he’s kinda cute now. It'll definitely sell."

Angel continued to fiddle with the hem of his new dress, clearly enjoying the attention. "Pwetty! Thank you, Betty!"

Velvette's eye twitched at the nickname but she forced a smile. "You're welcome, Itsy Bitsy.”

Angel paused in his giggling, and suddenly stared off to nowhere, looking like he’s trying to concentrate on something.

And that something bloomed into a bright red hue of shame across his face, and a noxious scent all over the air.

Vox and Velvette didn’t realize what the spider had just done, until they noticed Valentino had bolted out of the room.

The other two exchanged a horrified glance, their noses wrinkling as the foul odor spread through the room.

“Did he just—” Velvette began, her eyes widening.

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Vox confirmed, his voice tinged with resignation.

“TINO YOU FUCKING COWARD! GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE!” Velvette ran out the door, leaving Vox alone with Angel once again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I hope I didn’t make them too out of character. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get them accurate when I wrote this fic.

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Future Side Story from You and Me and the Baby Makes Three

Okay, so since getting back into the Witcher again, I've been reviewing my billions of WiPs and I wanted to share this bit from the future of You and Me and the Baby Makes Three. This comes after Roche decides to keep the half-elf baby and raise him together with Iorveth - and of course, the Stripes and the Scoia'tael gotta get in on that. But this story is actually from Cedric's POV (Iorveth's former lover who lives in Lobinden outside Flotsam).

(putting under a cut because tumblr fucked up formatting and I can't indent anymore and I'm still mad about it)

When Cedric had first learned that Iorveth had brought his Scoia’tael to the aid of some human woman, he’d almost walked into a tree, so shocked was he. He had known Iorveth a long, long time and if ever there had been a time Iorveth had looked kindly upon humans, it had long since past. 

So why would he have brought his men to serve this human? Why would they have agreed to go?

Once upon a time, Cedric had been able to figure out what Iorveth was thinking. But that too was long ago now, and Cedric hadn’t a clue. 

Then he started hearing rumors about this Free Pontar Valley, this supposed land of equality where elves and dwarves and humans lived peacefully alongside each other. This land that apparently, Iorveth now protected. Even against Kaedwen’s army!

In all his life, Cedric never would’ve called that. He’d sooner believe Iorveth had married a dwarf than that he might willingly follow a human. 

Cedric was curious, he could admit to that. He wanted to know what could have prompted such a change in his one time friend. One time lover. Gods, but Cedric missed Iorveth sometimes, with a ferocity that took him off guard even after all these years. But who he really missed was the Iorveth he had known before hatred had twisted him into something unrecognizable. 

He’d assumed that Iorveth was gone forever, drowned under the blood on Iorveth’s hands – but perhaps he had been wrong, because if Iorveth could set aside his hatred to work alongside humans, then anything could be possible. 

Cedric wanted to find out, wanted to discover if the man he knew was still in there somewhere. 

So when a few of the elves and dwarves in Lobinden started talking about potentially going to this Free Pontar Valley…

Things were better in Lobinden since Moril had been recovered and Loredo had been killed. But ‘better’ was still a life lived in fear of the next riot, of the next mob. Cedric couldn’t blame them for wanting to leave, though whether this fabled land would be better or not…

It grieved Cedric, to leave his forest. But he’d been here a long time now and perhaps it was time to move on. Perhaps there was a chance he could reclaim a friend of old and a life he’d thought forever lost.

He had to find out. He had to.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t a tad nervous over how Iorveth would receive him. They hadn’t exactly ended on the best terms, after all. And Iorveth could hold a grudge like no one else Cedric had ever seen. 

He still held a grudge against his own mother for a slight during his first century of life, even though she was long dead. Honestly, Cedric was pretty sure the concept of forgiveness was entirely foreign to Iorveth. 

Which might be a problem for him, Cedric was learning. Because he’d made it to Vergen and he’d gone straight to the tavern, getting thoroughly sloshed as he listened to all the gossip about Iorveth.

Then he decided it was time to go find Iorveth, and therein lay the problem. Because before he found Iorveth, he found Iorveth’s second. Once upon a time, Cedric and Ciaran had actually gotten along quite well. But from the look on Ciaran’s face, those times were long gone, because it was as though a stormcloud descended over his previously pleasant expression.

“You,” Ciaran growled. “What do you want?”

“To see Iorveth,” Cedric answered simply, honestly kind of reeling at the leashed anger on Ciaran’s face. 

“No,” Ciaran said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No. You won’t hurt him again.” Ciaran’s voice was firm and unyielding. 

Cedric blinked. He’d hurt Iorveth? He’d been the one breaking his own heart, because he could see the monster Iorveth was becoming and he could see how easily Iorveth could drag him down just as low. It had scared him, those vision – scared him enough that he’d been forced to look at who Iorveth had become and how much of the Iorveth that he loved was left. 

There hadn’t been much. Honestly, he’d half-thought that there hadn’t been enough for Iorveth to even care when he left.

Ciaran scoffed in disbelief. “Of course he fucking cared,” Ciaran snapped. “You’d been together for a fucking century until you broke his heart.”

“Oh,” Cedric said dumbly. He – somehow that had never occurred to him, that Iorveth’s heart might’ve been breaking right alongside his. 

“He was a mess after that,” Ciaran bit out. “Still healing from losing his fucking eye and then someone he trusted stabbed him in the back and through the heart.”

Cedric flinched. At the time, he’d been so certain that he had to leave, certain that the Iorveth he wanted was gone. But if that Iorveth was still in there somewhere… then that meant that Cedric had soundly rejected him.

Swallowing hard, Cedric murmured, “it would seem I owe him an apology.”

“No,” Ciaran crossed his arms. “You don’t get to ruin his life here just to soothe your guilty conscious.”

“That’s not–!”

“No,” Ciaran repeated. “Leave Iorveth alone. He deserves better than to be jerked around by an asshole like you.”

The words hit hard and Cedric turned blindly, marching away from Ciaran – and back towards the inn. He needed a drink. Or twelve.

The next day, he decided he would need to take a different approach to finding Iorveth. Iorveth was said to be enamored with the leader of the Free Pontar Valley, a leader who claimed to have slain a dragon. If Iorveth was truly so taken with her for some reason, then surely she would know where Cedric could find him. 

Getting in to see the new ruler of this realm was surprisingly easy. All he’d had to do was add his name to a list and then wait – and every single person on the list got one on one time with Saskia the Dragonslayer. 

It was absurd and must’ve been extremely time consuming, but it was convenient for Cedric’s purposes, so he waited and waited and finally, when his flask was nearly empty, he was called in to see the Dragonslayer.

“Cedric aep Cyran,” Saskia greeted. “I understand you come from Lobinden. Welcome to Vergen.”

“Thank you,” he said, shifting awkwardly. Should he just ask her straight out?

“How may I be of service?” Saskia asked as though that was the sort of question a ruler should ever ask of a petitioner. 

“I’m looking for Iorveth,” he said bluntly. 

“Oh,” she blinked. “May I ask why?”

“He’s an old friend,” Cedric said, not entirely sure if he was lying or not. Was that Iorveth still alive? 

“Around now, he’s probably teaching,” Saskia said and threw him for another loop.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, Iorveth has been hosting classes for those interested to learn about elven cultural practices that have been lost to time. He has quite a gaggle of adoring students, in fact.”

The words did not quite compute. “He’s – what, is he teaching them music?”

“Yes, music of course, but also other things. Courting rituals, for instance.” She looked thoroughly amused as she spoke. 

“He’s teaching… elves?”

“And half-elves and humans and dwarves, too. Anyone interested,” she shrugged. “I can show you where, if you like. I’m sure his students would appreciate hearing from another elf who recalls a wholly different time.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Cedric cleared his throat. The more he learned about Iorveth, the more he felt like the one he remembered was close by and yet entirely out of reach. “I – I would like to see him.”

“Come with me, then,” Saskia smiled at him and led him through a confusing twisting and turning route before stopping near a waterfall. In front of the water, Iorveth sat on a stone, facing a group of twenty or so people of all species, and bouncing a baby on his knee.

Cedric’s brain flatlined. Iorveth and children had never gone together before, even when Iorveth had been untainted by his hatred and need for revenge. Even before his hands had been stained with the blood of children.

“–that’s why hair is sacred to elves,” Iorveth was saying, looking down at the baby as he played with it, even as he continued his lesson. In front of him, eight elves, five dwarves, and ten humans stared attentively up at him. “It’s the only hair we grow and it was gifted to us by the goddess Navé. That’s also why it’s very personal. When young, friends might be permitted to touch, but for grown elves, only family and lovers are appropriate. Anyone else touching is considered quite offensive and scandalous.”

“Is that why you hide yours?” a human child asked.

Iorveth hesitated. “It’s one reason.” His mouth twisted, “I’ve had enough encounters with forced haircuts to know better than to leave an opening.”

Several of the elves Cedric recognized as Iorveth’s Scoia’tael grimaced, muttering disparaging remarks about those who would dare defile an elf so. But Cedric was more astonished that Iorveth had actually willingly shared that shame.

Cedric had found him, that first time, after humans had held down the musician and shorn off his hair. He’d seen how ashamed Iorveth had felt, hiding the evidence of what humans had taken from him. He’d seen the first signs of the hatred that would eventually consume Iorveth.

Saskia coughed, drawing attention to them, and Cedric saw the exact moment Iorveth saw him. Iorveth’s face went blank, emotions hidden behind a mask Cedric couldn’t read. It didn’t bode well for him.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Saskia said, looking mildly concerned. “He said he was an old friend.”

“Ha!” Sylvar scoffed loudly. “Some friend.”

Again, Cedric was taken off guard by the fierce glares Iorveth’s Scoia’tael leveled at him. He swallowed hard, greeting Iorveth.

“Can we talk?” he asked, clearing his throat.

Iorveth’s hands froze momentarily around the baby’s middle, but after a moment, he nodded, passing the baby to a human who, on second glance, appeared to be Vernon Roche. As in, the head of the Scoia’tael hunters Vernon Roche. What the fuck? Was that the same baby from Flotsam!? Why was Iorveth playing with it?

Amongst the discontent grumbling of his men, Iorveth rose, walking some distance away before jerking his head to indicate that Cedric should follow. Finally, Iorveth stopped beside a door and held it open for Cedric, waving him inside a small office. 

“What do you want?” Iorveth asked, voice cold. 

Cedric shivered, trying to figure out what to say. “How!?” he finally landed on. “How the hell did you end up here?”

“What do you care?” Iorveth spat. “You made it pretty damn clear that you were done with me.”

“You’d started killing children!” Cedric retorted. 

“So why do you care?” Iorveth crossed his arms, glaring at him. 

“Because you’re… you,” Cedric shrugged helplessly.

Iorveth did not look impressed and Cedric swallowed. 

“How did you come to be following a human?” he asked softly.

Iorveth frowned. “Saskia is not like any dh’oine you’ve ever met.”

“Oh?”

“She has the charisma to hold together all the disparate factions in Vergen and she has the steely resolve needed to ensure that equality is enforced.”

“Equality,” Cedric repeated. “You’re okay with living on equal ground with humans?”

“I’m okay with my Scoia’tael getting to choose not to fight. All I ever wanted was a future for our people.”

Cedric gaped at him. “You – but – you would gladly kill any human to so much as look at you wrong.”

“Sure,” Iorveth shrugged as if that was no big deal. “Doesn’t mean acting on that desire would do any good.”

Cedric stared. “I… have no idea what to say to that. Your past actions completely contradict it?”

Iorveth shrugged again. “Eminent extinction forces one to make compromises they wouldn’t usually. Do I want to live amongst humans? Not particularly. But humans aren’t going anywhere. Even if I killed every single one here in the mountain, more would come flooding in. They’re endless – and we aren’t. So,” his shoulder rose in a half-shrug. “A future amongst humans is better than no future at all.”

Cedric couldn’t help the way he boggled at Iorveth. That – how were those words coming from the same man who decided that killing human adults wasn’t enough, that they had to kill human children in order to be heard?

“How,” Cedric started slowly, “how did you come to arrive at that conclusion? ‘Cause I would have never thought–”

“I know what you thought,” Iorveth snapped. “You made it quite clear how monstrous you found me.”

“You were killing children,” Cedric emphasized. “And now you teach human children about elves?”

“Yes,” Iorveth said simply as though there wasn’t a contradiction there.

“I don’t understand,” Cedric shook his head.

“No, you don’t,” Iorveth answered, something sharp in his tone. 

“What is it about this Saskia that prompted such a change in your thinking!?”

“She believes in a better world,” Iorveth said. “One in which Aen Seidhe are respected and honored, rather than murdered en masse.”

“Yeah, but… she’s human?”

Iorveth was silent for a long moment. Then he finally said, “she sees more than the monster I’ve become.”

Cedric blinked. “You are more,” he said without thinking.

Iorveth’s snort sounded painful. “And what the fuck would you know of it?”

“I’ve known you most of your life,” Cedric pointed out, something uncomfortable wriggling in this belly. “I know you.”

“You did know me,” Iorveth corrected. “Then I – how did you put it? ‘Changed, and not for the better’?”

Cedric flinched. “I was wrong,” he admitted. “I thought – I thought that the Iorveth I knew had died under your hatred for humanity. But I was wrong. You’re here.”

Iorveth’s lips twisted and Cedric got the sense that he disagreed, but before he could say anything, there was a soft knock on the door. Iorveth turned away from Cedric easily, and the heavy sensation in his gut grew.

He just – he just wanted to find his friend again. But even though he was pretty sure that Iorveth was still alive, he wasn’t so sure his friend would want anything to do with him ever again.

Iorveth opened the door to reveal Vernon Roche, carrying a baby with pointed ears against his hip.

“Hey,” Roche greeted softly, eyes darting to Cedric and back. “Uh, just wanted to check on you.”

Iorveth huffed, an oddly amused sound. “I’m fine,” he answered, reaching out to take the baby and hugging it close.

Roche’s lips twitched. Then he cleared his throat, looked back over at Cedric, and dipped his head. “Hello again.”

Cedric frowned at him in consternation. Why would Vernon Roche check on Iorveth? And if Roche was raising that same baby from Flotsam, why was Iorveth involved at all? Weren’t they supposed to hate each other?

Iorveth acted as though nothing out of the usual was happening. “C’mon,” he jerked his head, “let’s head back.”

Still holding the baby, he walked out of the office. Roche followed after him immediately and strode by his side, but Cedric was more delayed in moving. It would seem their conversation was over.

He frowned, wondering where exactly he stood with his old friend now. He still didn’t really know how Iorveth had come to be here – but he wanted to learn, wanted to understand. 

Belatedly, he scrambled to catch up. “Iorveth,” he called, seeing the way Iorveth stiffened. “Would you have time to talk later?” he tried, desperate not to lose this opportunity. “Perhaps dinner?”

A muscle in Iorveth’s jaw flexed. But instead of the outright rejection Cedric half expected, Iorveth turned to Roche, explaining, “Vernon’s the one cooking.”

Roche seemed surprised to have the decision left in his hands and Cedric couldn’t say he felt differently. What the fuck was the relationship between these two? Weren’t they supposed to be enemies?

“Uh,” Roche coughed. “I mean… sure? There’s room.”

Cedric attempted a smile, mostly just confused.

When they returned to the waterfall, most of Iorveth’s students had left, but Saskia sat where Iorveth once had and was talking animatedly with two human children and two young elves that Cedric had seen amongst Iorveth’s Scoia’tael, but must have been new enough that he didn’t recognize them.

Iorveth walked right up to them, bouncing the baby in his arms slightly. “Cedric will be joining us for dinner,” he announced, voice flat.

Cedric blinked. Us?

“Oh good, I’m hungry,” the young human boy said, stretching. Then he waved at Cedric, “I’m Boussy. That’s my sister, Anais.”

“Uh. Hi? I’m Cedric.”

“That Cedric?” one of the elves wearing red and green armor asked, eyebrow arching high.

Iorveth rolled his eye. “Yes,” he answered her. “Let’s go.”

He started walking back towards the city and everyone followed him. Were they all joining them for dinner? Why was Iorveth having dinner with Vernon Roche and the other humans!?

“‘That Cedric’?” Roche asked the elf in an undertone.

“The one who messed Iorveth up real bad,” she murmured and Cedric swallowed hard, pretending he couldn’t hear her. “That was before I joined up, but it took Iorveth a long time to recover.”

Iorveth cleared his throat loudly, which meant that he had also heard her words – and he didn’t refute them. Cedric’s heart sank. Had he really done so much damage?

Had he been wrong to leave?

How could he have been, though? Iorveth – Iorveth may not be as consumed by hate as Cedric had thought… but he’d still killed children. He’d still gone far too extreme and forgotten what it meant to be an elf with honor.

If Cedric had stayed, he would have fallen too. And maybe his life wasn’t much, but at least he could say with honesty that there were depths he would not sink to.

So he hadn’t been wrong, leaving. But he had hurt Iorveth, and he wondered if he could ever make up for that.

“So,” Saskia said some minutes later as they all sat down at a huge dining room table in someone’s house. Cedric wasn’t certain whose house, but the possibility that it was Iorveth’s made his stomach flip. 

Even before Iorveth had begun to fight humanity, he’d never been terribly domestic. His feet had always itched for the road, and Cedric had enjoyed trekking beside him many a time. They’d explored the continent that way, years and years ago before humanity had doomed them all.

“So?”

“You’ve known each other a long time? You and Iorveth?”

“Oh,” Cedric’s surprise melted into a fond smile. “Yes, we’ve known each other for centuries. Since before humans came to this sphere.”

“Really? What was the world like then?” the elf who’d judged him asked eagerly. “Oh, uh, I’m Ky, by the way. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

The girl beside Ky nudged her with an elbow, signing something in a language Cedric had half-forgotten.

“And this is Rinn,” Ky said. “We’re here for Papa Iorveth.” Her grin was cheeky as she said that, but even so, Cedric choked at the very idea of Iorveth as a father figure. 

Iorveth rolled his eye. “What they mean is that they’re nosy gossips.”

“Rude!” Ky scoffed. “It’s not nosy when it’s out of love.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Roche chuckled. 

The little human girl, Anais, giggled silently, signing something back at Rinn. Signing something in Elder sign language.

Had Iorveth taught a human child how to speak their language!? Why?

“So,” Roche cleared his throat, “what was the world like then?”

Cedric debated how to answer. “Bigger,” he said. “The whole world was open to us. And we traveled most of it.” His lips pulled into a slightly wicked smile as he turned to Iorveth. “Remember that time in Xin’trea?”

Iorveth snorted, genuine amusement passing over his face. “Vividly.”

Several people’s eyebrows rose, but Cedric was too busy remembering what Iorveth had looked like, ravisheded and satisfied. Remembering how Iorveth had gone on stage not moments later, looking exactly as if he’d just been fucked within an inch of his life. He’d positively thrived on being scandalous back then, and Cedric had been more than delighted to oblige.

Back then, Cedric had been the bad influence. 

“What happened in Xin-Xin’trea?” Boussy stumbled over the pronunciation. “Where is that?”

“Cintra,” Roche of all people answered. “Xin’trea was the elven name for what’s now Cintra. South of Temeria, along the coast.”

Boussy nodded slowly, “where the Blackclad army came from.”

Roche froze for a moment, mouth opening soundlessly. 

“Yes,” Iorveth answered, voice surprisingly soft. “Cintra is the northern tip of Nilfgaard’s sovereign territory.” 

That that their contested territory stretched up to Vizima was not mentioned. 

“So what happened in Xin’trea?” Ky asked.

Iorveth flushed lightly. “This was – oh, 50 years before the Conjunction?”

Cedric nodded.

“I was a concert musician, so I traveled around doing shows in different cities. And I wasn’t terribly well-known, but I was, um.”

“He always sold out,” Cedric supplied.

“Mostly because I was very good at getting people talking about me,” Iorveth admitted, cheeks pink. 

“Scandals sold tickets,” Cedric laughed. “And Iorveth excelled at being scandalous.”

The surprise from several people was palpable, but Iorveth just grinned, even as his ears turned red. “It was fun.”

“I’m trying to imagine it,” Ky said quietly, sharing a wide-eyed and gleeful look with Rinn. “What kind of scandals did our dear Iorveth cause?”

“Any kind,” Iorveth said, accepting a plate from Roche. 

Cedric took his a moment later. “What you should know,” he said, “is that elven society at the time was very traditionalist. And Iorveth is… not.”

Iorveth snorted. “Thanks.” He shook his head and answered Ky, “I did a lot of outrageous things to get tongues wagging.”

Cedric bit his lip against a lewd remark. There were children present, after all. Including the half-elf baby, who Roche was attempting to feed. 

“So you’ve always been a drama queen,” Roche summarized, smirking mischievously.

Iorveth opened his mouth to object, but Cedric had to set the record straight. “Absolutely.”

That set multiple people giggling and Iorveth’s blush darkened, but he was smiling. 

“I’m an artiste,” he sniffed. That just made Ky and Rinn giggle harder.

“So you’ve known each other a long time,” Roche said, an odd look on his face. “Were you always, uh–”

“Involved?” Saskia provided.

If Iorveth’s blush had gone away at all, it immediately darkened. “Not always,” he murmured.

“But often. And we were always friends.”

Iorveth stiffened at those words and Cedric could practically hear him thinking, until…

An awkward silence settled over the group for a moment, then Cedric asked, “do you all eat dinner together regularly?”

“It’s a family dinner,” Ky shrugged. “So of course the whole family is here.”

Cedric blinked. Family!? As in, Iorveth considered multiple humans to be family!? The concept didn’t compute.

Iorveth surely must have been able to feel his incredulous stare, but the musician refused to acknowledge him, instead focusing on his food.

“So,” Cedric cleared his throat, turning to Roche, who might actually give him an answer. Maybe. “Is that the same baby from Flotsam?”

“The same one none of your elves would take,” Roche said stiffly. “His name is Sallah. We’re raising him.”

“We?”

“We,” Roche confirmed, gesturing vaguely around the table. “He’s half-human and half-elven, and deserves to know both sides of his heritage, so…”

Cedric just stared. Iorveth was raising a baby with a human!? With this human!? Why!?

“Why not?” Saskia smiled at him. 

He looked at Iorveth, who was still avoiding his gaze. He had about a billion questions, but whether he could get answers…

Before he could try, there was a knock on the door. Saskia rose to answer – maybe that meant this was her house? – and when Saskia returned to the dining room, there was another woman behind her, a human with light hair and vividly bright lipstick.

“Mom,” Roche said in surprise, “you didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Mom!?” Cedric was not the only person whose incredulous voice echoed around the room.

“Hello,” she smiled at all of them, waggling her fingers in a wave. “My name is Eliza. Yes, Vernon is my son – who apparently acquired three children since last we saw each other.”

There was a gentle rebuke in her tone, but Roche just shrugged. “I wrote you about them.”

“And then I decided to come see them for myself,” Eliza shrugged. She looked over the group and her eyebrow rose high, but all she did was introduce herself to the human children. “Anais and Boussy, right? And the baby is Sallah?”

“Yep,” Roche said.

“You’re Papa Roche’s mama?” Boussy asked curiously.

“I am,” she grinned at them. 

“Well, I’m Ky and this is Rinn and the grumpy one is Iorveth and that’s Saskia and that one is Cedric,” Ky went around the table. 

Cedric inclined his head respectfully towards her. 

“You Vernon didn’t write about,” Eliza said. “Nice to meet you.”

Cedric cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah, I’m – just visiting.” It was sort of true, even if he’d initially planned to stay in Vergen long term.

“Oh lovely,” Eliza grinned. “So, may I join you for dinner?”

Roche rolled his eyes, getting up and fetching another plate as Saskia moved to make room for her next to Roche. 

“How was the trip from Vizima? Well, actually, from Flotsam too, I guess?”

Part of Cedric wanted to object to Lobinden being lumped in with Flotsam, but it wasn’t really worth getting upset about. Still, he would at least use the right name. “Lobinden is far enough from the front that we had no trouble,” he answered. “We were even able to pass through the Gleanna forest.” Without anyone getting shot, he didn’t need to say. Being nonhuman had not always been enough to protect people from the Scoia’tael in the past.

That had been another sign of how far Iorveth had fallen. Killing humans indiscriminately was bad enough – but slaughtering elves? He’d half wondered if Iorveth would come after him when the Scoia’tael started harassing ‘collaborators’.

How could the Iorveth who would kill an elf over associating too closely with humanity be the same Iorveth that sat here at a family dinner with four humans?

“Vizima remains Temerian for the moment,” Eliza said seriously, “so heading north wasn’t too bad. But I do worry what might happen if the tides shift during the return journey. Still, nothing I can’t handle.” She knocked her shoulder against her sons and he smiled, exasperation on his face.

“Leave Beatrice in charge at the Clarabelle?”

“Mm, with the help of a few of the others.”

“The Clarabelle?” Saskia asked.

“My brothel,” Eliza answered so easily that it took Cedric a moment to truly process her words.

“You own a brothel?”

Well, Vernon Roche was rumored to be a whoreson, he supposed. He’d always figured that was euphemistic, because really, how did a whoreson end up leading the king’s special forces?

How did the commander of the king’s special forces end up raising a baby with Iorveth!?

“The best brothel in Vizima,” Eliza said proudly. “Located in the Temple District. Come by, if you’re ever in the area.” She winked at him and he blinked owlishly at her. “The invitation extends to all of you, of course. The workers love meeting anyone important to Vernon.”

“Mostly ‘cause it rarely happens,” Roche pointed out.

“And because some of them remember when you were Anais and Boussy’s age,” Eliza laughed.

Iorveth tilted his head. “Your workers have stayed with you for so long? I’d have thought turnover would be pretty high in a brothel.”

“Oh, it is in most,” Eliza said. “There’s a reason I say the Clarabelle is the best.”

Roche snorted. “What she means is openings at the Clarabelle are highly coveted. Everyone wants to work there. Uh, everyone in the business, I mean.”

“What’s a brothel?” the human boy – what had he said his name was? Boussy? – asked.

“It’s a place where customers come to experience pleasure,” Eliza answered easily. “The issue is, a great number of brothels are run by businessmen rather than sex workers. It would be like… hmm. Like if you had to take military orders from someone who has never been in combat. There’s a fundamental lack of understanding that comes from never having experienced what their subordinates have.”

“Plus half of them are pimps who couldn’t give two shits about their workers,” Roche added. “Mom, on the other hand, is very big on worker’s rights. As in, she makes me pass out pamphlets in the local brothels when I travel.”

Rinn signed, I always wondered why you went to so many brothels when I spied on you.

Roche snorted like he understood Elder sign language. Perhaps even more astonishingly, Eliza seemed to understand the Elder signs because she tilted her head and asked, “spied?”

Cedric was not the only one surprised by her question, at least. Iorveth narrowed eye glared suspiciously at her.

“You know Elder sign?”

“Not fluently,” Eliza said. “Eva, one of my workers, taught me. Her wife acts as an interpreter with customers, but most of us know at least some sign language.”

“You never mentioned that,” Iorveth arched an eyebrow at Roche.

“Yeah, ‘cause the signs I know are not the ones you teach an eight year old. Kinda like the Elder I knew before you started teaching me.” Roche shrugged, “growing up in a brothel gives you a unique and limited vocabulary.”

Saskia and Eliza both laughed, though the children just looked confused. 

Before they could ask the details of exactly how unique Roche’s vocabulary was, Cedric decided to ask, “Eva’s an elf?”

“Half-elf,” Eliza corrected, “though some of my other workers are full blooded elves. And dwarves, and halflings.” She hitched one shoulder in a shrug, “actually had a doppler worker for a while, but they got out of the biz.”

“Oh, I remember them,” Roche nodded. “Taught me how to pick a pocket. I was – what? Eleven or twelve?”

“Twelve, I think,” Eliza said. 

“...you pick pockets?” Cedric’s eyebrow rose steadily.

“Sometimes,” Roche said casually, “‘s a useful skill.”

The human girl – Anais? – tapped the table, then signed, can I learn?

“Sure,” Roche shrugged, “with conditions.”

Awesome.

Several people chuckled, Iorveth among them. “Rinn could probably give you tips, too,” he said fondly.

Rinn grinned widely. Definitely. Never seen anyone else manage to pick your pocket.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Roche smirked.

Iorveth rolled his eye but didn’t actually object, and Cedric felt more confused than ever.

--

Sallah is an Arabic name, but also salah means to pray in Elder. As Roche says in a different part of this fic, "he’s sort of our prayer for a new world, one where humans and elves live alongside each other in peace and half-elves are accepted by both sides."

[beebabycastiel]

Gallavich 1950s AU??? do tell!!

It was actually my first try at a Gallavich fanfic. I think I even started it before I finished the series (whoops). It's also a fake marriage AU too, because I think of tropes as cheese on a pizza-- we pile it on baby! And just for you, here's a snippet!

In an apartment right on the edge of New City and Fuller Park, a telephone rings. The shrill noise startles a recovering and hugely annoyed girl out of an afternoon nap. Mandy Milk—Gallagher had finally been sleeping peacefully. Finally, she was able to rest without the ever-worried gaze of her dweeb of a husband making her feel too jumpy with guilt to sleep. Not that she should feel any guilt—no matter what anyone says—but still. Mandy tugs her housecoat closer around her skinny shoulders. All the childish excitement of having an apartment with a real-life rotary phone wears off quickly as it continues to trill loudly in the once peaceful apartment.

“Hello?” she answers, not bothering to cheekily answer, “Gallagher residence. Mrs. Gallagher speaking!” like she does when Ian’s family calls or when other random folks somehow ring them.

“Is this Mrs. Amanda Gallagher?” the staticky voice of a male asks.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

“This is Officer A. S. O’Brien at Stateville Correctional Center,” he says and Mandy rolls her eyes. They’re always so self-important. She hums for him to spit it out so she can go back to napping before Ian comes home and watches her like she might start bleeding out again.

“This call is on behalf of Mr. Mikhailo Milkovich. You’re listed as his main contact?” The note of suspicion in his voice sets her teeth on edge. It's as if he can’t believe a nice Irish girl such as herself would have contact with someone with such a Soviet sounding name. Not only did this prick interrupt her nap, but now he’s bothering her about Mickey?

“My brother, yes,” she snips, getting more and more pissed off, “This is not a social call on his end, correct, Mr. O’Brien?”

“Apologies, ma’am,” he blusters a bit. “This is simply a courtesy call to let you know that Mr. Milkovich will be released Friday next rather than his original release date.”

“He’s coming home?” Mandy asks, feeling her face split into a wide grin. “What about Iggy?”

“Well, erm…” he seems to falter then, clearly unsure why she’d be concerned about not only one convicted bank robber but two.

“It seems Mr. Igor Milkovich will remain here until his original release date—barring any other incidents,” Mandy doesn’t waste time stressing on his nasty emphasis on ‘other incidents.’ She’s too excited at the prospect of seeing Mickey after three years.

“Fine, fine,” she brushed him off. Iggy’s always had a taste for “incidents.” Causing them or just being in the middle of them. As long as he lives and isn’t too badly hurt, she knows it won’t do her any good to worry about it.

“But Mickey? He’s getting out? What time next Friday? I’ll pick him up,” she knows she’s talking quickly, but she’s happy. Excited to see Mickey again as Terry never let her visit him once he was locked up. It was half punishment to him for botching a job, and half punishment to Mandy as Terry must have known she’d break and say something about the abuse. As much as the Milkovich siblings all were terrified of Terry, they’d never let him get away with hurting her like that—Mickey and Iggy, especially.

“Yes, ma’am. But I must encourage you to bring a male escort as correctional—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mandy waves her hand, she could write the book on this. She’s probably been in more scrapes than him and the poor sucker she’s finally taking to meet her family.

“My husband will be with me. That is if you finally tell me where I’m to pick up my brother?”

“Yes ma’am. Of course.”

Mandy has to admit, as she scribbles down the details on the notepad they keep near the phone, even if her husband was wholly unattracted to her as a woman (the first man ever, seemingly) there are some wonderful merits to being a missus.

[buraisu9009]

Carrying on the Cowl Part 1, A Batman Story

(Authors Note)

Well would you look at that my very first fanfiction story so a little background information for all of you first of all if you're taking the time to read this thanks for dropping by secondly a little background information I had to think long and hard as what I wanted this story to be about now as you could probably guess from the title this is a bad man story but the direction I decided to take with it may surprise a lot of people.

I was born in 97 and growing up in the 2000s and 2010s I saw a lot of the earlier superhero movies I grew up with the Sam Rami Trilogy for Spider-Man and I also watched a lot of the Christopher Nolan Batman movies which is the universe in which this story takes place.

I decided for my bad man story I was going to be pulling from three specific storylines the first obviously to set up a lot of the shall we say background is the Christopher Nolan Batman then I'm going to be pulling some details and characters from both The Dark Knight Returns storyline and Telltales Batman for a character that's going to be showing up later on.

So with all that out of the way, let's begin

~

(Story)

Years have passed since the attack by Bane his army of criminals on Gotham and for the first time in a long while it seemed that at last the city could sleep somewhat peacefully the Batman had given his life to defend Gotham the very City in which he grew up in but the city lost to Champions not only did they lose their Dark Knight but they also lost one of the light as well. For Bruce Wayne had finally given up the cow deciding that the long last his fight was over the job the mission done away with it's been many years under that cow countless nights fighting criminals in Gotham streets but he was getting older if you hadn't giving it up when he did someone might have finally managed to kill him.

Despite the bats plea to his oldest friend Jim Gordon to celebrate those that had given their lives in the defense of the city the old commissioner wouldn't have it he would make sure the city knew what had happened that day what had really happened how the bat had given up everything to defend them.

Yet despite the example of Bruce said despite the sacrifice that Batman had given the unfortunate truth is that crime never sleeps at least not forever true Gotham was slowly rebuilding itself, the GCPD now under the leadership of commissioner John "robin" Blake, was doing a much better job at keeping the peace and overall things seem to be going well but the criminal underworld in Gotham and elsewhere outside the city limits was far too large to be extinguished in just a few years time because just like the forces of light Darkness too was Finding its way back to the surface.

A new Criminal gang known as the mutants was starting to spring up everywhere around Gotham and unlike the forces that were led by Bane or the miscreants led by the Joker the mutants were far different, they were well trained organized fanatical and they were everywhere and their numbers were swelling. Pretty soon every street corner every neighborhood has some sort of mutant presence. There were plenty of theories as to where the group had come from some simply blamed it on useful Rebellion how the new generation was doing its best to distinguish itself from the crowd. The police had other theories some believe that perhaps a few of the criminals that were that band had released into the city had disappeared into the underworld and began rebuilding Gathering followers of Their Own.

The third and possible unfortunate likely Theory is that the mutants were simply a response to Gotham itself the city had a tendency to bring out the worst in people at the worst of times and the mutants seemed to Simply Be the latest result of that. Unfortunately there was a problem the mutants continued to grow and soon streets that were rebuilding and even recovering from the onslaught of crime over the past few years suddenly found themselves in the middle of a gang war between the mutants and local police.

Everything eventually culminated with a broadcast going out Citywide of the mutant leader threatening the city. He claims that the mutants were the new Authority and Gotham that the peace that they had enjoyed had made the city weak and they take Gotham for themselves, the future, the city, all of it, belonged to the Mutants.

Commissioner Blake found himself sitting in his office contemplating what to do years ago he had discovered the bat's Greatest Secret the bad cave all the gear all the weapons all the knowledge that Bruce Wayne had left behind was had his fingertips but despite his best efforts John Blake was no Batman in fact he himself wondered if he ever could be could anyone truly replace such a person be as well trained and disciplined and live up to the legend that was Batman?

Blake didn't have the answer yet as the mutant situation grew worst day by day he began questioning himself perhaps he should go back try at least try to take up the mantle after all what's the worst thing that could happen he gets killed by a mutant Thug in the street but as he thought about it more he just couldn't do it Batman gave his life and he couldn't replace him no matter how hard he tried what he could do is protect the city that he left behind and while he couldn't be Batman he could at the very least maybe use some of the information and weapons that he had left behind to help protect the city or at least that was the plan.

For you see why all this was going on will mutants were running the streets the police frantically trying to maintain order and commissioner Blake was going back and forth with his conscience and rational thinking there was another person who was seeing all of this go down.

Carrie Kelly had lived in Gotham all her life the native through and through though like much of the citizenry she hadn't had the easiest of times. Carrie was loved at her school she was a straight A student a great gymnast, had a best friend by the name of Michelle, all in all School kind of served as her safe haven as ironic as that sounds. Where is her home life was chaotic. Both of Carrie's parents were drug abusers most of the time being so absent-minded they hardly paid carrie any mind, and there were even a few occasions where her father got overly violent. This home situation caused Carrie to become far more self-reliant she taught herself how to cook how to do her own laundry but also more practical skills. Well in gym class she also took some interest in martial arts and self defense. Using her Gym training as a baseline she was able to incorporate some martial arts movements along with her gymnastics which allowed her to develop her own fighting style.

On top of this Carrie was also able to use her smarts to really delve deep into research and one facet of research that was almost an obsession was her research of Batman.

My other young girls her age were thinking about boys or catching up with the latest fashion trends Batman was Carrie's Rock her hobby her thing. She wanted to know and learn anything and everything when it came to to The Dark Knight. But that always been that way but her Obsession hit a high point when Carrie saw Batman fly over the ocean, and the bomb that was meant for Gotham, exploded over the horizon. She had always dreamed of meeting him, now, he was gone, and now Gotham was left without its protector.

For a time it seemed things were beginning to get better though. Crime was down, people were friendlier, and the future was bright, then the mutants came and everything seemed to be set right back to zero.

Something had to change

So, one night, while carries parents were still stoned out of thier minds, Carrie snuck out of her home and into the night. She had a plan, it was desperate and stupid, but, it was a plan. For the past few weeks she had been trying to hack into different servers around the city, seeing if she could pull up video footage from any and all cameras and at last, she had found something, the footage was old, years old st the time she had laid eyes on it but, it showed the batmobile, or the Tumbler as some called it, driving into a nearby alley and disappearing. Carrie tried finding footage to see where it had gone but, nothing, suspicious so, she got the address and headed out.

When she arrived at the location there was nothing really special about the place a few barrels on fire smoke dumpsters you homeless people wondering around hell she even ran into a mutant on the way, but, it wasn't anything a good kick in the sack couldn't deal with. But she just couldn't put her finger on it if the Batmobile came in this direction it couldn't have just vanished so she started looking around and eventually she found something if you didn't know what to look for you wouldn't have noticed it but there was a slight crease in a nearby concrete wall with a dumpster in front of it and there was a draft which meant one thing a tunnel.

After a few moments she managed to find a button and the doorway opened, allowing her to slip inside. The tunnel was dark barely lit Kelly was only able to see you due to the flashlight on her phone she had no idea where this tunnel went or how far it was but she just started walking and walk she did for hours it felt like, she had no idea where she was going, she tired, hungry, the more she thought about it, the more this seemed like a stupid idea. Her phone was running out of batteries, soon she be in pitch black with no idea where she was.

That wasn't until she finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel which made her go into a full Sprint and what she saw at the end of that tunnel left her jaw on the floor, the tunnel gave way to a massive cave, the sound of water running in the distance, bats flying everywhere overhead, this was it, this is where Batman lived.

As she slowly ascended the walkways that were connected to the Cave opening if she saw it all the mass of computer or batman did his research most likely what was left of the batmobile of the bat cycle the bad jet was all here even if you trophies from old battles on the display case was the bat suit all seemingly untouched.

Carrie couldn't help her curiosity and she made her way over to the massive computer and dusted off the keyboard taking a seat on the surprisingly really comfortable chair. But of course with her luck there was no power luckily it was easy to reset once the computer came to life a message began playing.

It wasn't Batman or at least it wasn't him in the suit surprisingly it was Bruce Wayne saying that whoever found this and found the cave, and that they were welcome to it but, Bruce didn't speak to her, instead the message was for another, John Blake.

The commissioner? Carrie was a little surprised bad man had chosen John Blake as his successor or at least that seemed the case to her but the longer she thought about it the angry or she got if John was chosen to be the new Batman why wasn't he doing anything the mutants were running rampant and Gotham the streets were turning into a war zone it was like the day Bane invaded all over again just on a more reduced level but if things kept going the way they were it wasn't going to be like that for long.

Has she thought about it more and more her gaze turned to the bat suit and then the words Bruce had spoken were ringing in her head whoever found the cave was privy to it and everything within the weapons the vehicles but most importantly the knowledge. Carrie had studied, researched, and picked apart everything about Batman for years. How he fought, his tactics, the way he interacted with people. Could she truly replace Batman she didn't know maybe she was even foolish for even thinking she could but batman wasn't here anymore, she was, and Gotham needed a hero, and Carrie, she needed a purpose, and it seemed at last, within the caverns of this damp cave, she had found it.

Thus as the bats above circled around her head, her mind was made, and thus, she set to work, success or failure, sink or swim, and new bat rose that night, and soon, all of Gotham would know it.

[bored-storyteller]

Hello! I remember you said you could write for Sally Face even though it's not on your list (if I dreamed of it, excuse me 🙏), since you still look like you're in the fandom... How about the #4 of the prompt list with Sally Face? If you do not write for him I apologize 😭

Hello dear Anon! Yes, Sally Face maybe is the video game I'm most fond of, I can write for him, I just don't always feel like making the requests that come to me about this game. But don't worry! Asking is always fine! Thanks for the request!

P.s. This is more fluff than angst I think, I apologize, is that there is already a lot of angst for him

73- Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

From the prompt list

4- “Do you know what it’s like?”

Gizmo's purr lazily fills the silence in the room, the big cat is taking his ration of free pampering perched in your boyfriend's lap.

His fingers glide absently on the white and tawny fur of the half-asleep feline, while behind his mask you catch nothing but an absent gaze directed at the void between his knees.

By now that beautiful sky-colored eye of his communicates with you without the need for words, and you see how much it seems dull and lost, so much so that it appears almost glass like the one on the right.

Sal is always so sweet and so strong. He has so much weight on his shoulders, yet you always see him accepting everyone else's too. He never complains, he doesn't fidget, and he doesn't scream, not even when he gets angry, and if he does he apologizes as if he's at fault.

You love him, you really love him. You feel it in your guts, especially now, that he is like this.

You don't really know what's troubling him, yet you see how sad he is. His shoulders are bent slightly forward, and his blue hair slips free, covering even more of his usual mask.

Even though you know you are free with him, you are terribly afraid of hurting him. You're afraid of saying something too much, something he doesn't deserve.

As you leave the book you were reading by your side, you try to remember when Sal began to wither.

You noticed it after the last outing you did with the others, but you have no idea if those thoughts that seem to be spinning in his head were already floating around before, and you curse yourself for being so inattentive towards him.

"Give me space Gizmo" you mutter with a playful pout, picking up the lazy cat to move it a little further "I want the cuddles too."

Sal just cooes as his hands remain motionless, letting you nestle your head in his lap.

Once you are comfortable in your new nest, his fingers gently touch your forehead, while you are busy trying to come to terms with the big cat who insists on trying to stay on his master's lap too, at the cost to sit on your face.

“Come on Gizmo. Let me be a little jealous every now and then. " You snort, pushing the royal furry butt away from your nose.

"Are you jealous?" Sal's question is surmounted by the meow of the fake tiger who decides to snuggle in the hollow between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes roll up into his gaze and for a moment you don't know how to read that question. You feel him terribly serious, and in a way, you don't know where he is going.

"Yes ... I'm jealous of you ... that is ... is it normal I think?" You know that sincerity is always the best choice with him, but you still bite your tongue, wondering if you are giving the wrong idea.

His caresses have stopped while he silently looks at you, and you don't know what he's thinking, you don't know if you've unknowingly touched a nerve or if you just added a new thought to him.

"Why?" His question comes out as a surrendered sigh "You have no reason ... I say ... it is you who can make others love you, not me."

His words take your breath away for a moment.

"What are you saying…?" You murmur, as you raise a hand to touch his turquoise locks "you know how to make yourself loved even by those who don't even know how to love ..." you whisper softly, yet you don't seem to convince him.

His sigh becomes more impressive in the rumble of his mask, and you look at him patiently, while his hands undo the hooks that block it to his face.

Few people know what lies behind that prosthesis, and it hardly ever happens that he leaves himself so spontaneously in the sight of others. It's because it's you, you know, and it flatters you, yet something so immediate still surprises you.

You believe that his face is something magical, because no matter how grotesque it is, how almost you could say that there is no face, but you love it, you loved it from the first moment you saw it. Maybe because you were already in love with him.

"You were beautiful that night." His words still confuse you, and you force yourself to accept the idea of having entered a minefield. So you were right, was it your last outing that upset him?

"Sal ..." you get up, and now even Gizmo has realized he has to leave space for you, moving to the next pillow.

He doesn't look at you, his eyes are closed, but he continues to keep himself completely exposed to you.

"I really mean it. You are always beautiful to me, but that night ... that night you felt beautiful too, didn't you? You were, you really were, and ... "his shoulders give way a little further forward, as if he were about to collapse under an invisible weight. "And if you hadn't been with me, someone would have come to you. Maybe he would have offered you a drink and then ... "

Your lips part for a few seconds, looking for something to say, but you really don't know what ground you're walking on.

"I'm not really beautiful Sal, I'm just-"

"A normal person. What else do you want?" His abrupt interruption silences you.

In a moment his eye is on you again, alarmed: “Sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean to be bad. "He whispers softly.

Sal Fisher, always so attentive to others even in his moments of despair.

"Only that ... you ... do you know what it’s like? To be like that…"

His voice just trembles, and you forget to breathe. You would like to remove all doubts and insecurities from him, but you cannot do it.

"No ... no Sal, I don't know ..."

"That's okay ..." he murmurs, trying to console the guilt of your tone "I don't know what it is like to be you either, but ... it can't be so pleasant to kiss bare teeth ... right? It must not be pleasant to feel this dead flesh against your skin, and it must not be pleasant to wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and find this monster a few inches from your face ... I just think ... I just think you should know that you can certainly find someone else ... someone else other than me. "

You have always admired him, also for all the strength he has to live with that weight - one of many - that he carries with him. Perhaps subconsciously he has always found a way to make his flaws simply characteristics, his style. With or without his ponytails, Sal was always recognizable and, in a sense, charismatic.

But you know that even if he is so strong, so resilient, the weight does not disappear.

"Sally Face ..." you murmur softly, as you move your legs to be able to sit astride his lap.

"You know ... I've always looked for many things from life." Your fingers casually play with his tufts of hair "And I swear to you I never thought I'd find what's really essential to me right here."

Your palms rest gently on his rib cage as his slowly brush your hips.

"You might find someone different from me too, Sally Face, but I don't want you to, please." You just smile "Also because ... after a nightmare you are the first thing I look for, and when I find you ..." leaning forward you are greeted by the loving arms of your boyfriend, while you take refuge in his chest, snuggling up to his heart "I do this, and I stay listening to you until I fall asleep again. When you sleep peacefully you never notice, but you always welcome me. "

Curled up there on his chest like now, you have no idea what's in Sal's eyes. All you see are a few blue locks of him falling over your cheeks, while he lets you relax under his chin.

His silence leaves you on alert, and even if you don't move, you look for any clues that might tell you something about his emotions.

A slight tremor in his chest and a restrained sob from him make your heart tremble, but his slowly calming beat just makes you snuggle closer to his body.

"I-" he starts off lightly, but then stops immediately, and when he resumes, you're sure he's changed the subject, but it doesn't matter anymore. "Am I such a heavy sleeper?" He asks, with a shivering chuckle amid the slight gasps of silent tears.

You laugh lightly as you lift yourself up to look at him. In your hands, his cheeks are rough and wet, but even as tears flow from his eyes, he doesn't look agitated or hurt.

"Well, you recover the sleep that all your nightmares take away from you."

Your fingers slide gently under his eyelids to collect his tears. You don't ask him why he cries; you know that in his chest he has a reservoir where he keeps all his emotions and, every now and then, they pretend to come out.

"Wake me up next time you have a nightmare, you're always there when I have mine."

You smile softly as you rest your forehead against him. You wouldn't change him for the world.

"For once, let me take care of you Sal."

His sigh hits your nose as he snuggles a little more against you. Calmly it seems that he can channel his emotions into a single torrent.

"Take care of me?" He murmurs against your lips “How about picking up the phone and ordering a pizza for the two of us? It would make me very, very happy. "

Your cheerful laugh fills the room, while your lips touch what remains of his: "And the ice cream?"

"And the ice cream." He confirms as he accepts your sweet kiss.

There seems to be a long night of pampering with Sal and Gizmo ahead of you, what more could you ask for?

You gently kiss his cheek one last time, before getting up in search of the device to order your dinner.

"Hey ..." before you're too far away, your hand is lovingly held by Sal's "I don't want anyone else next to me."

Your eyes dive into him for a moment, and what you find is nothing but a clear and sincere sky that takes your breath away every time it lands on you.

"Me neither. I wouldn't want anyone else even for a single day of my existence. "

[rin-itoshi]

kisses . genshin impact (pt. 2)

> summary: places the genshin boys kiss you other than the lips (ft. bennett, chongyun, razor, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli)

> content: fluff , gn!reader , ooc(?idk)

here’s part one!

# BENNETT

where: your palm!

why: this man does not know how to stfu, so when you have to forcefully shush him, your palm is the best spot for his lips to kiss.

“It’s awfully quiet today,” you murmured as you turned on your heels, hearing the whirlwind of a boy coming your way. He nearly tumbled—so close to crashing at your feet but fortunately caught himself before he could hit the ground. He stood up straight, dusting his clothes with a breathy laugh before yelping out a pained, “Ow!”

“What happened?” You ask as you reach out to cup his face, checking his head and skin for any injuries.

The male chuckled with a closed eyed smile, “I got hit by a rock!” His voice echoed within the city, making you slightly cringe when your ears ached. He was quick to go off on a tangent, babbling about some nonsense that made you even more confused than before.

“Bennett,” you call out to grasp his attention. The moment he turned your way, you slapped a hand over his mouth with an amused smile. “I know you’re excited and want to talk, but we should move away from the Knights of Favonius headquarters before Captain Kaeya kills us.”

He kissed your palm gently, eliciting a ticklish sensation in your hand that made you pull away. Before you could do anything about his sneaky kisses, he grabbed your hand and began dragging you away, talking about some adventure team he was putting together.

# CHONGYUN

where: your shoulders!

why: he likes the smoothness of your shoulder when he lays down behind you and can rest easily without being judged.

The bedroom door creaked open to reveal the blue haired male who stood in the doorway with a pensive look on his face. Upon seeing you lying in your shared bed, he exhaled deeply and you could practically see relief wash over is features. “[y/n],” he breathed out as he shuffled into the room, scurrying over the bed to climb onto the silk sheets and lay himself in the spot behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his chest as gently as possible. As hesitant as he was, he was way too tired to be reluctant about holding you even thought you clearly felt the same need for touch as him. “’m so tired.”

After a long day of training, he was exhausted and was in desperate need of your touch in order to replenish the energy he had depleted earlier that day. It was only much better now that you were both living together and were able to cuddle as much as needed after work.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, doing his absolute best to push away the strong emotions that burned inside of his heart. He refused to flare-up in front of you ever again, but with you unknowingly doing things to stir him up, he was always struggling to keep calm.

Peppering kisses along your shoulders, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold sensation of his lips on your skin. It was a blissful feeling, warming up your heart with love despite how cold his body truly was. Too beautiful.

# RAZOR

where: your eyelids!

why: this one may sound weird but he just gets curious when he keeps watch and tends to do it without a thought.

Razor stood tall at the peak of the mountain that you both temporarily resided on. His chin was held high, chest puffed out with a sense of responsibility flowing through his veins at the thought of watching over you while you slept to keep you out of harms way. It wasn’t necessarily a demanding duty but for you, it meant a thousand times more than it usually would have.

The boy approached your sleeping body. You were rested on the ground under his jacket that barely shielded you from the cold weather tonight presented to you both. He gently tugged his jacket further up your body, covering your arm that had been slightly exposed.

You were cute like this, sleeping so peacefully with so much trust in the guy who could barely communicate yet you loved him so much. It was amazing.

Subconsciously, he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your eyelid. You stirred in your sleep, forcing him to jolt away in surprise before settling when you murmured something sleepily, smiled and then relaxed. Your behavior was new to him and yet, it brought so many different feelings into his heart. Unknowing to you, he smiled genuinely and patted your head gently.

“You rest. I keep watch.”

# XIAO

where: your forehead!

why: he just thinks it is less embarrassing than trying to kiss you on the lips openly + less chances of him getting denied the kiss.

His expression was rather dark as you stood in front of one another. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something but you brushed it off, assuming it was just his way of sulking since you two were about to split for the night.

“I packed you some Almond Tofu, so you can eat some on your way back. I also got you a jacket to wear since it might be a little cold in the evening. I know you don’t sleep and stuff, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your rambling about his well-being wasn’t new to him, which is why he didn’t interrupt you. He watched with the same dark expression that seemed scary but if you looked closely, you would see just how soft those eyes had become after spending so much time with a “mere human” like you.

Grasping you by the back of you head, he pulled you forward and leaned in briskly, kissing your forehead softly before pulling away and turning around. You barely had a second to recover as he adjusted his mask on his face and disappeared from your sight, muttering nothing but a simple, “be careful.”

You smiled at the tingling sensation on you skin, knowing he had only escaped to avoid feeling any type of emotion after kissing you so brazenly. As mean as Xiao seemed, he really was a simpleton with you.

# XINGQIU

where: the back of your hand!

why: do i have to explain?

“Xingqiu, where are we going?” You asked with a tired smile on your lips as you allowed yourself to be dragged along this upward slope with no set destination in mind. The boy simply laughed, pulling you faster until you were nearly tripping over your own feet. By the time you had planned to complain once more, he came to an abrupt stop and you almost bumped into his body if it wasn’t for your quick senses. “Where are we?”

“Take a look, my liege. Quite fascinating, is it not?” He said as he took a seat on the branch perched on the top of the hill, big enough for the two of them to sit on. You plopped beside him, admiring the sun that was beginning to set while Xingqiu opened a book to the page he had left off on.

“My life seems fulfilled when I am sat here with a book in my hands and you by my side. Don’t you agree?” HIs words were sincere, surprisingly void of that mischievous tone he usually had these days.

“I’m not particularly fond of books like you, but I am extremely fond of you. So, yes, I do agree.” You said with a cheesy smile, leaning in his direction. The boy abruptly stood up, and you rose an eyebrow in confusion.

Bending his body slightly, he held out his hand to you until you placed yours on top of his. Once you did so, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand and flashed you an easy smile. “With this, I owe my life to you, my liege. A vow much greater than marriage.”

# ZHONGLI

where: your lips!

why: I legit couldn’t think of a non-lips spot so i gave up. mans just likes the way your lips taste like his favorite wine. two good things.

He admired his cup with bright eyes, absolute taken with the way it tasted on his tongue and hadn’t changed in all these years. It was a beautiful emotion that was a mixture of happiness and nostalgia, plus a bit of romance considering he was here with the one he loved.

“What do you think?” Zhongli asked, eyes full of curiosity as he turned in your direction. You hadn’t said anything all night and he assumed you weren’t enjoying the wine he had presented to you so happily.

On contrary, it was way too good to be wasted, so you chose to drink it slowly in order to savor the beautiful taste that somehow reminded you of Zhongli himself. Maybe it was because he talked about this wine too much.

“It tastes good,” you murmur, leaning into his side to gain a bit of warmth from the male who shared the emotion, leaning into your touch.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly when you already saw his eyes on you. “Stop staring so impolitely. Where are your manners?” You asked jokingly, giggling softly when Zhongli looked down and chuckled.

Leaning in, he cupped your cheek and smashed your lips together. He could taste the Osmanthus wine on you and it nearly made him melt into the kiss that he had long suppressed.

When he pulled away, a small smile settled into his lips, satisfaction in his eyes. “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember.”

a/n: finally, I finished it. im going to bed now uhhdhfjf (idk if i’ll ever do other characters but we’ll see)

[elainevc]

what you do after:

WARNING: s4 spoilers

gn!reader

cw: fluff, angst, mentions of ptsd, children

armin:

After Eren's death, he took a while to recover. He wasn't hiding in his room or ignoring his responsibilities, but sometimes he would get this far-off look and it would take a moment for him to return to the real world.

He wants to help Paradis have a good relationship with foreign eldians so he doesn't have a lot of time to be a househusband.

However, he loves staying in bed with you and when you both wake up you'll walk to the beach and smell the salty air.

Yeah you guys are gonna have a beach house.

He wants to make the next step and propose, but he doesn't have the guts to do it right away. He only tells you he was waiting to propose when you mention the idea of waking up to him every morning. You kept hinting at it and he knew he had to do it.

You had a small wedding with your friends and spent your honeymoon on the sea.

jean:

He would want a nice house outside the walls somewhere in a field. He'd love the idea of raising his kids on a small farm.

Despite his negotiation skills and Armin's constant prodding, Jean wouldn't be too involved with the rest of the Eldian population. His insecurities tell him he'll only make things worse and it'd be best if he just stayed on Paradis.

Jean had already mentioned marriage before Marley attacked, so when everything settled down, Mikasa and the others weren't surprised to hear about the modest wedding you two were planning.

And yes, Mikasa was invited and she honestly loved listening to you talk about Jean.

Things would be difficult at first. Nightmares and long minutes of memories weren't new, but now that you were finally free of expectations it made coping a lot harder. It was normal for you to wake up to Jean sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands and sweat forming on his back.

You would comfort each other with firm hugs and sweet kisses, even if you're both doing something and it's just in passing.

At the end of the day you know you're going to spend the rest of your life with him and that's all the comfort you'll need.

mikasa (bc i love her):

Things were bittersweet at the end. You and Mikasa had a romantic relationship, but you knew Eren was her first love and that it would be hard for her to move on. You were willing to wait as long as she needed.

That day came sooner than you expected when you went to meet her under the designated tree. You would meet up to keep her company since Armin was gone quite often and to simply enjoy each others company.

She leaned against the base of the tree and you laid beside her, your face in the shade and from your shoulders down covered in sunlight.

All of the sudden she grabbed your hand and looked at you.

She explained that a part of her still loved Eren, and always would, but she was ready to move forward and live a beautiful, long life with you.

Holy shit she spoke more in those last 20 seconds than she did in the last year.

You gripped her hand and smiled. After a moment of looking into each others eyes, you let go and sprang to your feet. You lead her into the field where you hugged her and spun around.

After a while you two moved in together and lived peacefully. You wanted to open a bakery and she agreed. Your lives were calm, sweet, and filled with love.

You never officially have a wedding, but you do buy each other rings and refer to her as your wife. She appreciated the mellow things in life.

Damn, you were lucky as hell.

[zackcollins]

speechless || bo bichette

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hello! Everyone gets a treat of a second fic today because I was in a mood to write. Hope that’s okay. Idk man. When you’re in the mood to write, you write. And sometimes, you just wanna post right away because you’re too impatient to wait. Ya know? Anyways. GIF credit to glasnow!

Warnings: An anxiety attack. That’s probably it??? I don’t think there’s anything else. Feel free to let me know otherwise and I’ll fix this warnings section for you.

Word Count: 1.9k+

Title: Speechless by Dan + Shay

Additional: The reader should be gender neutral again! I don’t think I used any identifying language or pronouns or anything. If I did, it was accidental because I was hella distracted watching my dog while my grandparents went grocery shopping. As always, let me know how I did because constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Tagging: @whimsical-daydreams​ @donttelltheelf-x​

You had suffered from severe anxiety; it had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. At this point, it had totally consumed you. You could hardly do anything anymore without your anxiety trying to take over in some form or another. It was the worst feeling in the world.

That's why it was like all your prayers had been answered when Bo waltzed into your life. For the first time in your life, you were able to open up about your anxiety with someone. There was just something about Bo that made you feel safe, secure, and like nothing would ever hurt you again.

You had been dating for about two and a half years before your relationship changed. It changed on what had otherwise been a quiet day in the middle of February. Snow was falling outside of your house, blowing around peacefully in the evening breeze. You were sitting on the window seat of the living room window, staring out onto the street while idly sipping on a mug of hot chocolate.

Somewhere outside, you heard a dog distantly barking. You found it odd because to the best of your knowledge, nobody in the housing community you and Bo lived in had a dog. Most of them had cats because they were easier for their housekeepers to look after when they were away on business trips or vacation. You quickly shook it out of your mind, though, thinking it only to be a dog that had wandered in from somewhere nearby. It wasn't entirely unlikely for that to happen because some of the people in the housing communities on either side had been known to let their dogs roam freely from time to time.

A couple of minutes later, you heard the front door to the house open. That snapped you out of thinking about the barking dog because you needed to know who walked in. Turning around, you heaved a relieved sign when you saw Bo standing in the entryway. You felt a little anxious, however, when you saw that he had placed a rather large box at his feet. Placing your hot chocolate on the windowsill, you walked over to Bo.

"What's this, sweetie?" You asked, walking all the way around the box. You wanted to see if it had some sort of label or marking on it that would hint at what was inside; it did not. All it had was a pink ribbon embossed with white hearts tied around it.

Bo smiled as he was undressing from his winter apparel. He tossed his hat into the closet. He unzipped his coat and carefully placed it on one of the coat hooks beside the door. Lastly came his boots. He slipped out of those and tossed them haphazardly onto the plastic boot mat you had bought specifically for the winter so snow wouldn’t be tracked all over your house. He ended up bowling over your boots and a spare pair of boots you kept in case of emergencies. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Bo raised his arms in surrender as he stepped forward and gave you a quick kiss. You relaxed, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his back. When you pulled apart, Bo stepped aside and motioned to the box.

 "If you wanna know what’s inside,” Bo produced a pocket knife seemingly out of nowhere because you didn’t know him to carry one. He handed it to you and motioned to the box a second time. “All you have to do is open it.” 

You walked forward and leaned over, carefully cutting the ribbon a couple of times so that it was easier to untangle from the box. Once you had all of the ribbon untangled and balled up, you placed it along with the knife on the console table next to you. When you looked back at Bo, he gave you an encouraging nod and a soft smile. You bit your lip nervously as you carefully lifted the lid off of the box. What was inside made you blink in surprise. Staring back at you was a beagle puppy. You had to blink a couple of more times, just to make sure that truly weren't imagining this. When you surmised that this was, in fact, a real dog sitting in the box, you lifted them out, cradling them in your arms. They even kissed you on the chin a couple of times. That was also all it took for you to be absolutely smitten with this puppy.

Just as you went to put the puppy down, the light from the chandelier made something on their collar glisten. At first, you thought it was name tags or the city registration tags. But, when you examined it, you discovered that it was an engagement ring. You turned to ask Bo about it. Much to your surprise, he was down on one knee, holding his hands out. You handed him the dog (who you could now see was a boy), thinking that was what he wanted. Bo chuckled as he scritched the dog behind the ears. The dog sighed, jackrabbitting his back foot in satisfaction. You huffed an amused breath, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

Bo carefully put the dog down and took the ring off of his collar. He gave him a few more ear scritches which made the dog flop on the floor and curl in a ball. Bo rolled his eyes before he looked up at you, holding the ring in your direction.

"Since I know I'm the best thing to happen to you and you're the best thing to happen to me," Bo paused, wiping tears out of the corners of his eyes, "I was wondering if you'd marry me?"

You clammed up. You felt your anxiety wash over you like a giant wave crashing into the surf. You fell to the floor, chanting a bunch of incoherent nonsense as you curled into a ball and clutched your knees tightly to your chest. You rocked back and forth, tears streaming down your face as you continued to death-grip your knees. It was then that you felt Bo wrap you in his arms. He cradled you, rocking you in time with how you were rocking yourself. Only, he was doing it softer, gentler. He was also mumbling some of his stats from last season, the stats from the hockey game you watched yesterday. Hell, he even started mumbling what you needed to buy when you went grocery shopping the next time. Anything mundane and boring because he knew that was what generally helped you out of anxiety episodes. The more boring the better. It gave a sense of normalcy and order that helped your brain to focus on the everyday parts of life as opposed to the falsehoods of meaningless compliments that people only said to you when you were in the middle of an anxiety episode.

Hearing about baseball and hockey stats as well as what groceries you needed to buy helped remarkably well. You calmed down relatively quickly given how badly this attack had started. You tilted your head, looking Bo in the eyes. Your eyes were full of a question that didn’t need to be asked but probably should be anyways. Bo, knowing how to read you by now, simply nodded. He met you halfway as you connected your lips. You shared a brief, albeit meaningful kiss. 

When you broke your lips apart, you held your hand out. "Of course I'll marry you."

You smiled, though it was a little awkward because you were still recovering from your anxiety attack, as Bo placed the ring on your finger. You moved your hand around, looking at the ring from every angle. It was a gorgeous ring. It was also simple and not very flashy. Which is something you had told Bo you wanted when the time came for him to finally propose. You weren’t a flashy or extravagant person so there was no need to have a flashy or extravagant ring. The thought of having an expensive or flashy ring made you really anxious. You were afraid that somebody would break in and steal it from you. And you didn’t want to live the entire rest of your life in fear that someone was going to break into your house to steal something from you. You had told Bo that that was no way to live. That’s why you were content with a small, simple ring. You didn’t have to live in a constant state of anxiety that some schmuck off the street was going to get the wise idea to break in one night and rob you of it. And the ring Bo had picked was exactly the ring you had been eyeing the last time you were in a jewellery store. So, it worked out even better.

Bo snapped you out of your thought by grabbing you by the chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tilted your face up so that you were looking at each other directly. Bo’s eyes flitted down to your lips and then quickly back up to look at you. You nodded as best you could with Bo holding onto your chin, a soft smile breaking out across your lips. Bo smiled back, dropping his hand away from your chin. He, instead, grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers. You huffed softly before you leaned forward and connected your lips with Bo’s. Bo smirked into the kiss, bringing his other hand up and resting it against your shoulder. The kiss was far more passionate than the first and you swore it could’ve gone on forever and ever. The only reason you stopped was because the puppy weaseled his way in between you and licked both of your noses. Bo laughed and booped the puppy on his nose. You made an amused noise and scritched the puppy's chest.

Bo turned back to you after you both spent a few moments playing with the puppy. "Sorry for surprising you. I know how you hate surprises."

"It's alright, Bo. It would've defeated the whole purpose if you told me," you responded, moving in closer to Bo.

At that moment, the puppy plopped himself down in between the two of you. You both scratched him behind either ear. He made a soft groan of appreciation, before falling fast asleep. He was snoring softly after a few moments which made both you and Bo chuckle bemusedly.

"What do we name him?" Bo asked, picking him up and placing him in your lap.

"Biscuit!" You replied with excitement. The dog responded to that, briefly opening his eyes and snuffling before he went back to sleep. "See! He likes that name." 

Your smile grew wider as your leaned down and gave Biscuit a kiss on the head. He snuffled again, his tail wagging against your knee. You lit up significantly, almost forgetting that you had had an anxiety attack a few minutes ago.

“Scratch that,” you said, a smile beaming on your face. “He loves that name.”

Bo just shook his head, chuckled, and waved a dismissive hand at you. "You're such a huge dork. You know that, right?"

"But I’m your huge dork," you replied, pointing to the ring on your finger as proof of that claim.

"Yes, yes you are."

[whump-a-la-mode]

❥, +, ●

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

Am I took late to the ask game? <:o

No worries at all about being late! This is for the caretaking ask game (I believe). I had to dig a little to find this one, but here are the prompts for this ask:

❥ - barefoot, sleepy wanderings

+ - being led back to bed with patient whispers

●  - being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

Thank you so much for the ask! I did my best to incorporate all three, so I hope you enjoy!

CW//Implied past whipping, medication mention

“Whumpee! Whumpee, it’s okay!”

The sound of Caretaker’s voice was all but drowned out by the clattering of bare feet on tile, and, of course, the horrid sound of hyperventilation. That didn’t stop them from trying, however.

“Whumpee!”

If anything, their begging only made their ward flee faster. Briefly, Whumpee disappeared from their caretaker’s sight as they tore around a corner, from the home’s kitchen into its living room. There, with their footsteps muffled, their quickened breaths and shuddered sobs took center stage.

But, in their frightened mind, so it seemed, they had forgotten something rather crucial: The living room had only the one entrance. It was a dead end.

This realization was made only an instant before they ran into the wall, at which point Whumpee skidded to a stop, swirling about on a heel.

The look in their eyes made Caretaker’s heart shatter to splinters.

Terror. There was nothing else to it. No tiny hint of hope, or even of anger. Simply terror. Horrible, milky terror, accompanying quivering lips, and eyelids that at already begun to bead with tears.

It was exactly as they had appeared, all those weeks ago, in that basement. Back when they were thin as a stick. Back when they flinched at the sound of a voice. When their wrists were so thin that their restraints dangled like hoop earrings. When there wasn’t an inch of unmarred skin upon their back.

It was as if they were back there, all over again.

Of course, they weren’t. Everything had been going so well! They’d gained weight, gained confidence, and the wide, open wounds open their body had begun to close into thin scars. A few hours ago, they’d been just fine. They’d taken their meds, gotten into their pajamas, and gone to bed.

And, now, they were acting as though they’d never escaped at all.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Caretaker spoke as softly as they could manage, with their voice still being heard. “It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Caretaker. You’re in my house, okay, sweetheart?”

If their ward was comforted by their words, they did not show it. In fact, their reaction was rather the opposite. They stumbled backwards, spine pressing against the wall. They moved until they were flush with the corner, without an inch more to move away.

“Shh, shh.” They whispered. “It’s okay. You’re okay, baby.”

Caretaker took the slightest step forward, but backed up as soon as Whumpee let out a screeching whine. They buried their face in their hands, sobs wracking their body as they wailed. As their cries increased in volume, their knees began to tremble, before, eventually, they collapsed.

There, in the corner, they held their shivering legs to their chest, hiding their tear-stained face.

This wasn’t going to work, Caretaker realized in that moment. After so long in Whumper’s captivity, they had lost any and all trust for anyone. And, if they believed themself to be back in that terrible place, then that was likely the case once more.

With a weary sigh, Whumpee’s caretaker sat. They gave perhaps six feet of room between themself and their ward. Plenty of room to breathe, and to run, if they so desired. But, so that they could still see them clearly.

“I’ll be right here.” They assured. “I won’t move a muscle. I promise, honey.”

And, they did not.

For half an hour, thirty agonizing minutes, they sat. It took all that time for Whumpee to recover from their nightmare-- it must have been positively horrid to have frightened them so badly. But, once they had run out of tears, and energy to shiver, they slowly raised their head from between their knees, daring to look out at the world beyond. The world beyond the safety of their little corner.

“Caretaker?” It was such a soft, meek word, their voice utterly ruined by sobs.

Caretaker gave the warmest smile they could muster.

“Yeah, Whumpee.” They whispered. “It’s me. It’s Caretaker.”

“Where...”

“You had a nightmare.”

“Wh- Whumper-”

“No.” They nipped that terror in the bud. “Whumper is long gone. It’s me. Caretaker. We’re in my house, okay?”

They did not move, terrified of startling their ward back into their nervous state. Instead, they gently tapped the carpet in front of themself.

“You wanna come here? It’s still night time. Do you wanna go back to bed?”

After a long moment of thought, Whumpee nodded, crawling over to where Caretaker sat and leaning up against their chest. Strong, confident arms pulled them into a fireman’s carry.

That time, when Caretaker tucked Whumpee into bed, they slept the night away peacefully.

[lexsssu]

𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 (𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊) - 𝑱𝒊ǔ

Ao3 ver.

Previous

Next

“Sorry for the intrusion as always, Mr. Yanwang. But I have to clean your wounds regularly or else they’ll get worse instead of healing…”

The former proud dragon lord was silent, for his eyes were shut tightly in unconsciousness. He’d been sleeping for many moons now on account of his traitorous former confidant and younger brother who’d struck when he least expected it, injuring him until he was on the brink of death. Zhongli, better known as Yanwang Dijun, the youngest and most outstanding warlord this land had seen in centuries, was calculated by his own brother!

Now imprisoned within his own residence, he could do nothing but lie in bed and recover bit by bit while the white-eyed wolf took over his people on the pretense that he was unfit to do so due to his grave injuries.

“Really, it’s simply inhuman of them to not even feed you regularly when you’re so injured like this! Not to mention that they just allowed your wounds to fester as if you’re no better than roadkill…”

Though his body made no movements aside from his slow and shallow breaths, he was more than aware of your presence and clearly heard the sincerity of your words. For he is not just a warlord in name, but his skill allowed him to maintain a spiritual body for when his physical one was out of commission. Your regular meticulous care had allowed his self-healing to accelerate enough for his consciousness to awaken despite his physical body being way too gravely injured still.

“It’s not much, but I hope this helps you even a little bit…”

Translucent amber eyes watch with rapt attention as you place the freshly boiled and crushed guava leaves upon a long gash on his arm before wrapping the limb with a clean bandage. He takes note of the gentleness you treat him with, the sweat that drips down your brow as you tirelessly repeat the same treatment for all of his other wounds.

You’ve been doing this for him ever since the day the spineless coward Zhongchun had threatened your family in order to grab you as a wife for the incapacitated him. For what would be a better show than a crippled, comatose warlord wed to a woman well past the age of marriage? Zhongli himself was only twenty-seven, still considered within the prime of his youth but already quite old to not have at least one wife, concubine, or even a bed warmer.

Truthfully however, he’d been too busy trying to expand and stabilize all the territories he’d conquered during his campaign to even think about his carnal desires and besides, he can take care of himself should the need ever bother him too much. The chance that he could also be assassinated while either in the throes of passion or if his chosen lady might be an enemy spy also prevented him from seeking one out.

“Since even the servants refuse to give me actual medicine for your wounds, I’m at least thankful there’s a lot of guava trees just outside our house. Although my family could afford to buy medicine, we usually just use all the parts of the guava tree that’s been growing at our courtyard for decades now”

The dark-haired dragon’s heart clenches in spite of being only in his spiritual form, your unwavering kindness awakening feelings within himself that he never knew he was capable of experiencing. Though you were simply used as a way by Zhongchun to make a mockery of him, the fact that you never forgot to feed him, clean his wounds, and find ways to improve his healing spoke volumes of who you are as a person.

Especially now that he’d become more aware of who his true allies are after the battle that crippled and rendered him unconscious.

He will have his revenge.

He will take back what is his.

And...he will make sure to give you a proper wedding and treat you like the pearl in his palm for the rest of your lives.

══════════════════

“...Call me Husband”

As someone who’d never had a relationship in her past 23 years of living, the last thing you expected was to find or well, had a husband forced onto you at this age. Then there was the fact that said husband was the famed and also infamous Yanwang Dijun who could slay 100,000 enemies with just a swing of his mighty spear. Additionally, the war lord had been gravely injured to the point that everyone simply expected him to peacefully die in his sleep simply because of how severe his injuries were.

So in the end, you were only expected to take care of him until he inevitably passed away.

But you didn’t want to simply give up on a great man who’d done so much to unite the scattered tribes and cities of this great land. For all the atrocities he’s been said to have committed, you yourself know that the great general never ordered or committed anything that would brand him a monster in the eyes of the gods. A mixture of admiration and pity was what pushed you to do your best to slowly heal his body despite the lack of medical supplies and ample food to help sustain him.

What you did, you did out of your own free will without expecting anything in return.

“Wife, call me husband”

So how the heck did you end up in this situation?!

Pressed against the walls of your bedroom with the general for the past year, you feel your body overheating at his sheer proximity to you. Yanwang Dijun is tall and broad of shoulder, arms rippling with solid muscle and decorated with smatterings of scales and other markings that glowed as a testament to his dragon’s blood.

And he stared down at you with such intensity that you were sure you’d melt on the spot as if you were a block of ice left upon the courtyard during a sunny day. His amber eyes shone, long and majestic dragon tail swishing lazily behind him while his arms caged you against the wall.

It’s almost like the cat that caught the canary.

You gulp down the invisible lump that seemed to have formed inside your throat, trying to look anywhere except for the dragon himself before you finally found some semblance of courage.

“H—”

══════════════════

“Honey? Are you up yet?”

Amber orbs snap wide open as their owner sits up in alarm, running a hand through his mussed up dark locks and trying to get his bearings. He feels the mattress dipping as another body gets on, sitting directly beside him and placing their soft and small hand upon his forehead.

“You okay? I was wondering why you weren’t up yet since you usually wake up just before I do,” You asked him concernedly, curious and a little worried that he was feeling unwell.

“Do you want to go to Bubu Pharma—”

Before you could finish, you find yourself pinned beneath the larger and undeniably sexy form of your husband, heated amber eyes staring into your own with unabashed want.

“Wife... MY wife…” He mutters, almost as if in a trance before catching your lips in a feverish yet passionate kiss.

Breakfast had gotten cold by the time you managed to drag him out of bed.

[saturnsstufff]

Hey Saturn when your free and got time could you pretty please do some dad Sam headcannons or a short fic, whichever you'd prefer! I just feel like we all need some dad Sam headcannons cause the discord got me thinking about him🥺 dad Sam my beloved

-👀

Honestly he is so fresh in my mind as soon as you sent this I had to write.

Amelia- Awsamdude

   Sam was such an amazing person. I mean genuinely, the man worked so hard for everything. He made sure the house you two had was comfortable, he worked hard hours at the prison, all well still experimenting with Redstone. But no matter what, he always made sure to shower you in love and affection. He never wanted you doubting your place within his heart.

   Being his girlfriend, and fiancé was short lived to say the least. He wanted to marry you so bad. Calling you his, and only his, was such a high honor to him. After settling down into the comfort of a new chapter in life, you both did start to notice something feeling off or missing. It's said a lot like that, but Sam and you just genuinely felt a little off, and lonely without a little extra spunk.

   So naturally when he climbed over you, and suggested maybe bringing a baby into the world, you both broke into wide smiles. It was genuinely the cutest thing ever. He was so happy that you were the mother, well you were happy he was the father.

   When you told him you were actually pregnant, he couldn't contain his pure joy and excitement. He had wanted a family for so long, just something he could call his own. He wanted moments with his children like their first Christmas, Easter, ect. He also wanted the little moments in between them.

   He knew pregnancies were hard, and he apologized the whole nine months. although he knew the ending was oh, so worth it, the track there was rough. But he adored every trimester you went through. What started as a adorable little bump, turned into something he could gently lift and hold for you.

   His favorite thing ever, had quickly become the moments you laid against him in bed. With his hand on your stomach, rubbing gentle loving shapes, as the two of you rested your heads together. Loving the soft gentle moment you always shared. He always made you feel so safe, and you always clamed his nerves, relieving any stress held from his day.

   He was one of those dad's that just adored your tummy. He always had a hand or his hands on it. Wanting to just feel close to his child and you. Of course he would also lay his head on your lap and talk to the baby bump. Saying he couldn't wait to meet his little bundle.

   When the baby was born he was in love. It was an adorable baby girl, curled up ever so small within your arms. Sam loved the name Amelia, finding it perfect for his little darling.

   Well you recovered, Sam was the most perfect dad ever. He never failed to get up at night if Amelia was fussy. Her little cries always cut short at the sight of her strong daddy coming to get her. He would lay her on his chest and rock so gently, singing softly and humming sweet lullaby's so she could sleep peacefully.

   You would often catch him slipping back into bed from one of the nightly cries. His arm slipping around your waist tightly. Pulling your body close to his. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips when you nuzzled his chest. Of course he nuzzled into your neck, finding comfort with your soft presence.

   One particular day would always stick out to you. Sam had been working long shifts at the prison, now that dream inhabited the prison he took his job very seriously.

   But because of his long hours, Amelia and you have been left alone. Sam didn't want to be gone from his two girls of course. But he also didn't want to leave dream alone.

   Luckily one night he came back early, and trust me you were very thankful. Amelia wouldn't stop crying, she just wanted her dad. The crying was starting to take a toll on you as well. As soon as your armor covered husband walked in, you literally cried. Throwing your arms around him you sobbed into his chest. Overwhelmed from being too tired. Of course Sam was shocked and worried when his first interaction home was his wife sobbing into his chest.

   "Baby... Hey... Is Amelia ok?..." he asked softly. Gently rubbing your back, wanting to calm you down.

   “I.. I don't know! I.. I've fed her, and she doesn't need to be changed! Even when I hold her she cries!" Your tear stained face looked up at him. His face was only showing kindness, gentle eyes looking into your tear filled ones.

   "Baby... baby, its ok..." he took your face into his hands softly. Gently rubbing your cheeks, wiping away your tears. He pressed his lips to your forehead, offering soft moments to you to try and ease your worries. "Go ahead and sit down a moment, ok?..." he asked gently. When you nodded as a answer he kisses your forehead once more. Letting his hands fall from your face.

   He wondered into Amelia's room, his boots heavy on the wooden floor. As soon as her father came into view she reached out for him. Her little legs kicking away.

   "Hey... hey now... I herd my Little Girl was causing momma problems..." He said softly. Picking her up into his arms. With gentle rocks he walked back out to you. Ami cuddled into his arms, her crying now dying down. He offered his hand out to you. His other arm easily holding your baby. "Lets get you a bath love..." you nodded and got up, taking his gentle yet firm hand.

   Sam always knew what to do for you and Ami. Well you relaxed out in the freshly drawn bath. Sam had Ami layout on the bed. Her wide Grey eyes looking up at him with wonder as she tried to fit her foot into her mouth. Sam only chuckled at her cute actions. "What do you think your doing there? Feet aren't very yummy" he mused, setting his armor aside. Instead of pulling a shirt on, he just scooped Ami up resting her on his chest. With her cuddling down against him, he smiled at her. Every time he looked at her he saw you, and that only made him love you both more.

   When you stepped out of the bathroom you simply head for the living room. Feeling much better now that you had a moment of peace, clothing wise Sam's left over T-shirt acted as a perfect nightgown. When you found Sam, the sight was utterly adorable.

   Sam sat on the couch, laid out completely relaxed. On his chest, Ami laid completely asleep. Her soft cheek pressed to Sam's chest, his heart beat offering a soft loving tune. His hand was rested on her back, above the blanket that laid over top of the two cuddle bugs. Although his eyes were closed he wasn't asleep, with the soft pad of your feet he opened his eyes. Gazing up at you with adoring eyes.

   "How was your bath, baby?" He asked softly, moving a bit of the blanket for you. You crawled onto the couch by him. Nuzzling and resting your head on his shoulder the three of you all cuddled down.

   "It was long needed... better if you were with me..." he smiled and kissed your head. Taking in all the affection he was receiving.

   "We can always take one together again... maybe when Ami isn't so fussy..." he muttered, his thumb rubbing over Ami's tiny back.

   "She really missed you..." you said, looking down at your sweet daughter. Sam's arm snuck around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

   "Well I missed you both..." Sam said softly. No matter what he always found peace with you both. With both his girls. You two were the one thing he would give everything up for. You, his wife, the one person he confided everything in, and Ami. His daughter, the daughter made of his flesh and blood. He loved you both more than words would even begin to explain. No matter how fussy she was, it was moments like this that made up for it. Sam turned his head to face you, his lips pressing together a moment before he spoke. "I Love you (y/n)..."

   "I love you too Sam"

[szallejhscorner]

That kitten oneshot was really cute and I hope it's fine if I request something non-cat related XD. A Scenario taking place after they get out of the borderlands, in a kinda AU there they actually remember everything that happened - Chishiya’s s/o waking up from a nightmare (maybe kinda based on that scene there he almost died, from your other fic) only to wake up and find him asleep next to them or he woke up too because of their nightmare.

I like that idea! But keep in mind that I can add kitten to the story whenever I want, hehe ~

Honestly, I have always had troubles accepting the memory loss thing, so it's nice to pretend they still remember while ignoring the problems coming along with that. I hope you like this one, and thank you for the ask!

Need to Wake Up

It is always the same nightmare, again and again. But no matter how many times you go through it… no matter how certain you can tell that it’s just a dream… the fear stays the same.

You know exactly what is going to happen, but there is no way to stop it. No way to wake up before the horror begins.

And it’s so real! You can feel the cold rain on your skin, smell the grass breaking through the asphalt, sense the ache of your slowly healing injuries.

But that is not what causes the horror. It’s Chishiya, lying on the street in front of you, covered in blood and breathing so shallow as if the next breath will also be the last. He tries to talk to you, but no sound escapes his mouth. Just blood.

Over and over again you tell him that everything will be alright, beg him to stay alive, although you can’t hear your voice. This scene is so familiar already, as it barely stays out of your dreams for a single night. No matter how hard you try to forget, it will always come back. You could live with it, get used to the painful memory with the knowledge that Chishiya is alive and alright, that he recovered from his wounds and is sleeping peacefully next to you, if it wasn’t for…

You wake with a start, screaming so loud that it hurts your ears, and your hands are covered in sweat when you try to touch your face. Only that you are not awake.

Already panicking, you look around and search the caravan for Chishiya. Every time you try to warn him, try to avoid what is going to happen. It has never worked before, but everything is still better than to simply sit there and wait for him to die again and again and again and again.

“Bad dream?” Chishiya asks softly, kneeling down on the bed in front of you and reaching for your hand. You want to scream, shout at him to leave or to hide, but like always, there is no sound. Your lips don’t even more, frozen to ice as the door of the caravan crashes open and a shadowy figure enters, not even hesitating a second before he sends a bullet straight through Chishiya’s heart.

Even though it’s just that one bullet, Chishiya starts to bleed all over his body. It pours down his still smiling mouth, out of his eyes, his nose. It quickly covers everything including the bed and you, and an invisible force still prevents you from screaming or avoiding your gaze.

“It’s alright. I’m alive. Everything’s fine. I’m alive.“ Like a mantra, he repeats this sentence over and over again while even more blood pours out of his face. But soon enough, it is not his face anymore. It turns and twists into a grimace, bones crush and shift to take over new features that resemble Niragi, but they don’t stop cracking and changing, the grin growing wider and wider until it’s Mira staring at you.

Cold sweat runs down your spine, mixing with the freezing heat caused by the fear you feel. No matter how many times you witness this, it doesn’t get easier. And you are not even able to close your eyes or to ignore the sounds, are forced to stare at Mira the way she stares at you, but the change is not yet done.

Her long black hair is covered in dark crimson and she pulls a stained and tattered hood over her face, turning into the shadowy figure that you recognize as the King of Spades. You don’t need to look towards the door to see that he’s not standing there anymore. His eyes are hidden under the hood of the figure right in front of you, but you can see his smile. Dangerous. Evil.

“I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.” He lifts a gun towards you, and you almost look forward to the shot because it means an end to the hell you’re captured in. Your heart beats so fast that it badly hurts inside your chest, like a bomb going to explode any moment now. If only it could.

Just before the King’s finger pulls the trigger, a sudden gust of wind blows the hood off his head. It is Chishiya smiling at you again, but there’s no warmth. The eyes are still the dark and coldhearted ones of the King.

The scream inside your lungs is finally released when the bullet pierces into your heart, and the caravan disappears.

When you wake up this time, it is real. The pain in your chest remains and tears stream down your cheeks in burning rivers, but at least you don’t wake up with a cry any longer. Here in the darkness, you can feel it all stronger than ever. The scar on your shoulder where the bullet had grazed you during the Witch Hunt. The cut from the Jack of Clubs. The burn marks on your wrists from being electrocuted.

Your body is a wreck, and so is your mind. The Borderlands left scars all over your body, and only few of them are visible to others.

Trembling hands cover your face and try to silence the sobs that begin to shake you. Over two years and you’re still suffering from those nightmares. You’re not the only one – many others suffer the same, since no one seems able to leave the Borderlands behind just like that.

You tried to tell yourself that all of it had been nothing but a dream, and yet the scars on your body are proof enough. So are Chishiya’s scars.

“Hey.” The bed sheets rustle as he sits up as well and places his hand on your shoulder. You put your hand above his and turn your head to him, vision still blurry from all the tears.

“I’m sorry. I… didn’t mean to wake you.”

Chishiya sighs and even in the dim moonlight shining through the window, you can see how tired he is. His shifts have been rough lately, and he needs every bit of sleep he can get. You waking up from nightmares almost every night isn’t helping him in any way.

He pulls you into a hug, allowing you to rest your face against his chest. Your fingers trace the long-healed wound in his stomach, but the skin is warm and dry, with no blood pouring out of it. His heartbeat is strong and steady, as if that wound had been nothing but a scratch and didn’t almost kill him.

It has taken such a long time for him to fully recover. Searching for him had been the first thing for you to do after you had been allowed to leave your hospital, and you had visited him every single day throughout all the weeks he had been bound to that hospital bed.

But that’s over now. He’s alright, more than alive, and he’s with you. So why do those dreams still haunt you?

“I want it to stop”, you whisper into his chest while his hand gently runs through your hair to soothe you. “Sometimes I… sometimes I wish I’d have forgotten about it all. Just so I don’t have to go through this anymore.”

Chishiya hums, and when he speaks, his voice sounds so incredibly tired. “You’d have forgotten about me as well.”

“Yeah… that’s the crux about it.”

His chest vibrates as he lets out a huff, and you turn away to dry your face with a tissue. The tears have stopped, and now only the fear remains.

“Will… will it ever get better?” You know that Chishiya doesn’t have nightmares, but he suffers as well. While you are afraid to go to sleep, he is not even able to sleep at all most of the times. Too many questions still unanswered that keep him awake.

He lies back down and waits for you to do the same so he can wrap the blanket around both of you. “Hard to tell. All I can say is that it will always be a part of us.”

You snuggle into his hug, the warmth of it giving you a calm and secure feeling. It definitely is better when Chishiya is close to you. Too many times you woke up alone, screaming and crying with no one to hold you. At least that has stopped now that you moved into a new apartment together, so there’s still hope for the future.

Minutes pass by while your heartbeat slows down to normal and the freezing cold is driven out of your body. You’re too afraid to fall asleep again, but Chishiya definitely needs to rest, and he’s too exhausted to stay awake much longer. Soon enough you feel how his body relaxes and sleep takes over, and the sound of his calm breaths is the only thing you focus on until the first rays of sunlight find their way through the window.

As long as Chishiya is with you, everything will be alright. The Borderlands have hurt you, but they have given you Chishiya as well. Your dreams can’t do him harm any longer, and one day you hope you’ll be able to fall asleep in his arms without having to worry about nightmares.

The past can’t be changed any longer, but there’s still hope for the future.