#doing old people things like falling asleep in an armchair and letting his tea go cold

[somewherebetweenrage]

plotted starter for whichever one of Erik's family members wants to pick up the conversation and explain that this idiot fell asleep and let his tea go cold @wcrriorhearts / @mxndwitch / @survivcrsguilt

Erik Lehnsherr does not get sick. It’s a statement of fact, an acknowledgement of the way the world is; the mutant has had injuries aplenty, but he could count on one hand the number of times he has been genuinely ill. Meaning that, when his heart starts to fail, he is quick to notice.

It’s to be expected really, at his age. Auburn hair has long since greyed, and the strands around his temples are most definitely heading for white. Muscles and joints are not what they once were, and on bad days it can be painful to work with his hands; his days of sewing are long gone. His limp is more pronounced now than it ever was, and he frequently relies on the manipulation of magnetic fields to move about the island with any kind of ease. Erik has reached an age that, to most, would be entirely unthinkable. He knows the time he has left is short.

And still, he goes on. The mutant is not afraid of dying – hasn’t been afraid of that since the age of sixteen – but dying means leaving his family, his loved ones, and he will take every moment with them that the universe will allow. He will wring as much time from this life as he can, will hold on with everything available to him, until he is forced to let go. In the meantime, he is determined that his family will have no cause to worry, or to fear. And if his heart needs a little encouragement from his mutation every so often, then what of it? Nobody needs to know.

The unexpected wetness on the back of his hand jolts Erik awake, confused gaze taking a moment to focus on the world around him. He’s at home, in his favourite armchair, and Persephone is sitting at his feet, licking his hand in a way that means she’s hoping for either food or a scratch behind the ears. The mutant blinks a couple of times. Did he fall asleep in the armchair again? How embarrassing. A quick glance towards the familiar voices he can hear in the kitchen. Hopefully they didn’t notice his little nap.

Calloused fingers receive another lick, and with a small smile Erik obliges the request, lifting his hand to rest it on top of Persephone’s head, gently scratching his thumb behind one of her ears. His other hand reaches out to retrieve his cup of black tea from the nearby table, but instead grasps only air – it takes a couple of attempts before he realises the mug is no longer there. Forehead furrows. “Did someone take my tea?”

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hey could I please request Dream's s/o laying down on the couch after a long day, and him carrying her to bed.

A/N: doing small things for the person you love is a louder confession than yelling 'i love you' and you can not change my mind

[Sandman-inspired playlist] || [MASTERLIST] || 🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Being one of the Endless, the concept of time or schedules was a little lost on Morpheus. To be clear, it wasn't that he didn't understand it, he simply didn't experience the passing of time as people did. Entire centuries could go by and he'd feel as if it was a mere blink of an eye. Because of that, he tended to show up 'at your doorstep' at the most random times during the day. If he had to wait for a few hours, he was okay with that - Morpheus always managed to find something to busy himself with. On that day, he found himself at your home at the perfect time, just not the best day.

He stood in your living room, staring at you lying on the couch. You were curled up, clearly cold, but too tired to actually grab a blanket. Old or unworn clothes were scattered on the armchair and its vicinity. There was a watering can on the coffee table - either misplaced or put there on purpose because it was so hard to miss it. Right, he did remember you tended to forget about it. Next to it was an empty mug so dark with tea residue it had to be used unwashed for at least two days. A strange aroma of both laundry detergent and takeaway filled the air. Your face was strangely dark, greyish as if you had lived an entire month in the span of 24 hours. Was this normal for humans?

"I love you and all that," your raspy voice was muffled against the cushions, "I'd do anything for you but that will have to wait until tomorrow if you don't mind."

"I did not come here to ask for favours." For a moment, Morpheus wondered whether that's how you perceived him. If he had to be completely honest with himself, and that wasn't going to happen any time soon, he'd admit that the only thing he could ask of you was your affection. So far, in his opinion, you were giving it to him willingly.

"Good," you groaned against the pillow. Maybe you were going to say something else but a yawn prohibited you from doing so.

Without wasting his breath, Morpheus effortlessly lifted you off the couch. To him, it was the least he could do for you. Your cheek nuzzled against his chest and he felt his breath suddenly become a little ragged. So much time had passed since someone was so close to him... Dream's old, tired bones were only remembering what intimacy felt like. In any case, he carefully walked towards your bedroom, making sure not to shake you too much.

"You really don't have to," you said in an absent, raspy voice. It sounded as if you were going to fall asleep before he can actually put you to bed.

"I want to." Morpheus had a habit of ending discussions with those words when he was adamant about doing something for you. Most of the time you simply sighed and accepted his expression of love knowing that sometimes it was more important to let him do something for you.

The bed sheets were unpleasantly cold compared to the warmth Morpheus provided. "Don't go," you groaned feeling his arms withdraw. He took in a deep breath, suddenly realizing just how far he was willing to go to fulfil that promise. Even before meeting you, he needed Lucienne to stop him multiple times but now, when you so effortlessly asked him, the imperative that fueled all of his actions was set alight; 'too far' no longer existed. Despite that, Morpheus knew that it was a matter of minutes before you fall asleep. On the other hand, maybe he was simply afraid that giving in even once would turn into a devastating habit. Part of him welcomed that possible ruin with open arms but Morpheus tried to silence that voice as much as he could.

"I shall see you in a moment," he said quietly.

Morpheus left your bedroom and went back to the living room. With hesitation befitting a creature unfamiliar with the mundane, he took the watering can. Walking through your home, he watered every plant there was, passing the time until you fall asleep and he can finally have you all to himself. Morpheus wondered whether this is what life as a human was. In some other life, he'd very much like watering plants for you every day while you take a nap.

[messrmoonyy]

Hay, could you do number 44 for Remadora plz...😘

Some happy fluffy post deathly hallows fluff because they deserve it.

Also psa to people who have sent requests, i don’t write them in the order I receive them so if yours is taking it while it’s simply because others have given me more motivation. But it’ll show eventually :)

Prompt: sitting on the other’s lap

Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks

Warnings: none

You can find all my other writing on my masterlist and remember my ask box is always open, so drop me a request! Check my masterlist for who I write for!

Remus couldn’t sleep, the same as most nights just lately. He rolled around in bed for a few hours but eventually got up, not wanting to wake Dora. She was easily woken still, her motherly instincts still on high alert even if Teddy was past the age of waking up screaming in the night for food. And there were still old habits from the war, never truly letting yourself fall into a deep sleep. Always on edge and ready to jump out of bed and fight at a moments notice. He’d still wake up some mornings to see she had her wand clutched in her hand, still fast asleep.

She still had nights filled with nightmares too, as did he. She often asked him when they’d go away. He dare not tell her that hadn’t even gotten over his from the first war yet, Never mind the second, and that they would never truly leave her. He simply gave her the same answers every time

‘Soon my love’

‘You’re getting better everyday’

‘They won’t be with you forever’

He didn’t like to lie to her, but he couldnt bare the truth.

Thankfully him getting out of bed hadn’t seemed to have woken her from her rarely undisturbed sleep and he’d placed himself in his armchair by the fire. Christmas was coming around and the only light in the room came from the tree and the fire burning in the hearth. It felt wonderfully cosy. And homely. And domestic. And he adored it.

He finally had the family that he’d always wanted and dreamed of. He’d popped his head into Teddy’s room before making his way downstairs, the 3 year old sleeping soundly splayed out in his bed. Much like his mother he liked to take up as much room as possible, far more than a person so small should be capable of. He’d dodged the two creaky steps on the stairs and was now quite peaceful with his mug of tea and the fire.

They’d moved into the small house in hogsmeade not long after the war had ended, Remus has graciously taken back his position of dark arts professor, so it made sense for them be close to the school. Dora had been given her job back at the ministry with a hefty promotion too. Things were…. Good. They were all still in that sweet post war period where every seemed to get on, the darkness seemingly having been permanently shut out by the light. He didn’t know how long it would last. It hadn’t lasted particularly long the first time around. But then again this did feel different, because maybe the first time around the darkness had never really left. But it felt like it had now.

His days were constantly filled with light now, the bright faces of his students, the familiar feel of belonging in the hogwarts halls, then coming home to the smell of Dora attempting another one of Mollys recipes, Teddy charging around the house on his tiny broomstick that Harry had gifted him the Christmas before. Just waking up to his family, going to a job he adored and then returning home to his wife. His child. Some might call it an unbelievably dull existence, but he couldn’t think of anything he’d want more.

Even his monthly transitions weren’t as dreaded as they used to be. Wolfsbane potion was within easy access of every man, woman or child that needed it from the ministry. And no stigma was attached to collecting it either. Of course the overall acceptance of Lycanthropes was still a work in progress. But it was the best it had been in forever. His full moons no longer consisted of having to lock himself securely away, writhing and screaming for hours and hours as his bones broke and re set themselves. No, now he spent them curled up by the fire with Dora at his side simply napping the night away.

Occasionally he’d let himself think of the people he’d lost, all members of both the original and the second order that had lost their lives had gained portraits in hogwarts. Alongside all the other brave individuals that had died. He visited Sirius, James and Lily often. It got easier every time. Though James did like to throw the occasional jibe at his age, the James in the frame forever stuck in his twenties whilst Remus was in his forties now. Not that he minded. He didn’t think he’d ever reach that age so he was happily embracing it.

“ cant sleep? “ he startled slightly as a voice broke him from his daydreaming and he turned his head. Dora was stood at the bottom of the stairs, a sleepy smile on her face and rubbing at her eyes.

“ Sorry Darling did I wake you? “ she shook her head and yawned. He smiled warmly at her and placed his mug onto the coffee table before opening his arms. She returned the smile, grabbing a blanket from the back of the sofa before shuffling sleepily over and climbing into his lap. She wrapped the blanket around them both and his arms looped around her, holding her close “ Teddy alright? “

“ snoring just like his father “ his heart still did little flutters when he was reminded of the fact he was in fact a father. A proud one too “ nothing could wake that kid. You could go in there and hold a private Weird sisters concert and he’d sleep through the lot “ she played idly with a thread on his pyjama shirt and yawned again.

He ran his hand gently though her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead and looking towards the Christmas tree. This would be the first Christmas Teddy would understand more. He was holding almost coherent conversations with his parents now and was understanding what Christmas meant- his Christmas list had been a hefty one.

“ what’re you smiling at? “ Dora asked quietly, brushing the backs of her fingers against his chin. He hadn’t even realised he had been smiling.

“ Christmas with Teddy “ Dora smiled too and laughed slightly.

“ poor kids gonna be upset when he realises we couldn’t get him a real pet hippogriff “

“ he’ll love the stuffed one just as much “ it had been a nightmare to wrap, it was bigger than Teddy himself “ he’ll understand things a little more this year and not just throw his mashed potatoes at your mother “ Dora snorted a laugh at the memory. She’d been in tears she’d found the situation that hilarious.

“ it’s a good job she loves him. Only grandchild perks? “ Remus smiled and pondered on what thing his son would do this Christmas to cause chaos, morphing into random things or deciding he wanted to climb everything within reach. He quite liked the chaos though, he’d loved boring and ‘normal’ for far too long. And you couldn’t get any less normal than a werewolf with his metamorphmagus wife and their half werewolf morphing son.

They stayed down stairs for a while longer, Dora still sat in his lap and a comfortable silence surrounding them. She dropped off again after a few minutes, her breathing become slower and her full weight leaning on him. He debated attempting to carry her up to bed, but wasn’t sure his aged bones could carry her. He struggled sometimes just lifting Teddy. So he simply stayed in the chair, rested his chin onto his wife’s head and closed his eyes, getting a little more sleep himself in the dying light of the fire.

[norestwithoutlove]

“If jimmy came back from the dead, what do you think he’d say when he finds out Dean and cas are together and have kids”

(i was asked this on twitter and shared there. but i know not all of you follow me there i thought i’d share on here too. this is how i answered)

sorry this one took a while to answer. i wanted time to think about it because i never even considered the thought before. a lot of people say to me "imagine if jimmy had never died in tbah" and kind of miss the point of the fic. like yeah, it’d be great. it’d be great if none of the people we loved had died. yeah, “imagine if jimmy had never died” misses the point - but this question doesn't. and i think it's what a lot of bereaved people wish for, anyway. just a chance to say everything, one last time.

  where to start.

  i think if jimmy came back for a day (and the thought makes me cry)... he'd knock on the door of the big white house. or they'd just find him sitting in his old armchair in the living room like nothing had happened at all. but something has happened, something massive and irreversible, so maybe him knocking on the door would fit better.

jack's probably the one to open it. he frowns and thinks he recognises the face smiling back at him, but it's older than he's ever seen it, and he's not so good with faces, so he's not sure. jimmy smiles and says hello, does castiel still live here?

and jack says “yes, why?”. jimmy still smiles. his smile is wider, warmer now. he says he's travelled very far. he says he's an old family friend. could he come in? it’s raining outside. it’s raining - and though jimmy stands under the porch, it’d be mean to leave him out in it. jack pulls open the door and says if jimmy is selling anything, they probably wont need it: they have everything they need in this house. jimmy smiles and says he's glad. he treads slowly down the hall, looking around him, like he's trying to savor it. he runs his finger along the crack in the mirror that has always been there, at least since jack arrived. he smiles to himself, but it’s a little sad.

he stops at a photo of dean and castiel playing on the tire swing they made when they were kids. his eyes pinch at their corners. jack says, “what are you smiling at?” jimmy says, i was there when that was taken. jack says “oh. that's my father”. and he points to castiel. jimmy turns to jack and smiles so wide tears wring out of his eyes. he asks, really? jack frowns and says “of course”. why would he lie about that? jimmy says, i hope he doesn't miss his own dad too much. jack says “sometimes he and dean get sad about it”. jimmy pauses. castiel and dean are friends? he asks. jack nods seriously. “best friends,” he answers. “everyone knows that.” jimmy takes a gentle hold of jack's shoulder and squeezes.

jack says “that's how dean squeezes my shoulder, too”. jimmy asks, you see him often? he asks it with a hopeful smile. jack nods with a frown, very serious. jimmy laughs and says, you know, you frown just like your father. funny thing, family resemblance. jack shrugs and says “maybe, but i was adopted”. 

jimmy falters. he blinks. he glances down the corridor again, and his eyes light on a different picture, taken decades after the one on the tire swing. he treads slowly towards it. jack follows after him, speaking. “i just think,” he frowns, and it's still castiel's frown, “if you really were close family friends with castiel, you'd know he adopted his children.” 

jimmy has stopped in front of the photograph and he stares at it, lips parted in a ghost-smile. family, friend. family, and a friend, jimmy corrects. that’s what i meant. i’m old family, and an old friend. jack watches him. “that's them on their wedding day,” he supplies. jimmy smiles. soft tears, tears like a gentle autumn rain, are on his cheeks, now. yes, he says, it is. a little late, considering, but maybe... he trails off. timed perfectly. a heavy footfall sounds on the stairs, a thunder to match the rain outside, and claire calls to jack, “dude, you said you'd get me a snack! it’s not rocket science! what’s the holdup?” but she stops short at the sight of the old man in the hall. claire's better with faces than jack. 

hello, jimmy smiles, but claire is already yelling for her dads.

it's a sunday afternoon. dean hadn't planned on being awake and active. he’d been napping while cas did a grocery run. but claire screaming to high heaven is a surefire way to set elanor into confusion. he groans and rolls out of bed, rubbing his eyes. he picks elanor up and carries her down the stairs in one arm. “claire,” he grumbles, “you know cas is out fuelling your damn addiction to lucky charms. what is it?”

he stops short at the foot of the stairs. his mouth is open and his eyes are glassy. elanor keeps asking “daddy are you okay? who’s that man?” and it takes dean a minute to stop staring before softly putting elanor down and telling her to go get her brother, jacob. “tell him there’s food in the kitchen, or something,” dean says, and jimmy hasn’t stopped staring or smiling warmly at him and his eyes are leaking autumn rain. “but there isn’t,” elanor says, and dean answers “so lie. there’s someone i—” but he can’t finish the sentence. and elanor shakes her head with serious disapproval and climbs back up the stairs.

dean steps toward him, trying to stammer out his name, but the tears strangle his voice and before he knows it he’s wrapped tight in jimmy’s arms, taller than him by far, now, but feeling eighteen again. feeling eighteen again and like he’s just finished yelling at jimmy that he doesn’t need a father, never needed a father, that he coped just fine without one, anyway. all of those things were lies when dean said them. he wants to say they were lies, wants to tell jimmy now that he needed a father, always needed a father, didn’t cope without one but that also, when he needed one most, jimmy was his father. he wants to say thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you for everything and sorry for every angry answer and scowl and bitter lie, please know dean didn’t mean them, he was just hurt and afraid. but jimmy already knows this. knew that, even then, and besides, the words won’t come. he just holds onto jimmy tight and thinks he probably did fall asleep in his bed and this is another one of those grief dreams, another one of those grief dreams that’s gonna throw him off for weeks but one he wants to savor forever.

he’s soaking jimmy’s shirt with tears. the guy smells like his old cologne. and blueberry pancakes. dean cries a little harder, afraid to let go.

“are you proud of me?”

it’s the first thing he’s managed to say to the old man. “are you proud of me?” he keeps asking, over and over again, and jimmy holds him tight and answers yes, yes, every time. yes.

and then cas comes home. cas comes home dripping from the rain from the walk to the front door and drops the damp brown paper bags onto the floor and apples roll onto the floor and he’s staring at his father and can’t speak, just like dean couldn’t speak, and can’t breathe. and jimmy is sat at the kitchen table with his grandchildren just like castiel mourned he would never be able to, and jacob is showing jimmy one of his paintings and elanor is holding his hand and claire has just made him a cup of tea, and jimmy smiles at castiel. “i see you got my last letter,” he says. and castiel steps into the kitchen and sobs that he’s sorry he never got to reply. and jimmy says that he’s sorry, too. cas shows him the little saplings they all planted for tu b'shevat, standing in a line on the windowsill. jimmy loved growing things. and cas asks how long jimmy has with them. when he’s going… back. to wherever ‘there’ is. 

and jimmy says he has until the rain stops. and castiel wishes it would rain forever, that all of kansas would be blanketed in it, a second flood, torrenting about the land, and them in their own ark, the big white house, bobbing about on the water, sharing food and stories and laughter and lost time, stolen time, time which was stolen from them. aren’t his and dean’s tears a substitute enough for rain when it stops, anyway? their tears are sure as rain in autumn, and not likely to ease soon. he wishes the rain would never stop. 

but it has to, eventually. all things do. no matter how blessed.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Five.

Alright, let’s do this! Day early on the update, because I’m generous like that and might update again on Friday as well. Thought I needed to kick off the smut, which it pretty much will be now for many of the following chapters. The fuck fest has begun!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 3,806

Warnings - SMUT! 

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

Chapter playlist -  Talvin Singh – Traveller (There’s something so beautiful sensual about this song that I think it fitted perfectly to them both giving in to one another, and all that followed that!)

“I’ve got a pair of your sweats in the airing cupboard I’ve been meaning to return to you after our last camping trip, so grab those and put them on once you’re done in the shower. Do you want a coffee?”  

She’d gone into autopilot mode, practicality taking over. God, he looked hot with his uniform sticking to him, water dripping out of his hair and down his face.  

“Yeah, I’d love one. It likely won’t keep me awake, so apologies if I fall asleep on your sofa.”  

“What, you haven’t come off shift since I saw you last night?” she asked, clattering around in the kitchen, hearing him turn the shower on.  

“Nope, I did ten hours and then stayed an extra three because of the current situation, people in a state of bloody panic, as ever. Where’d you want me to stick these wet clothes?”  

Grabbing her plastic laundry basket, Zoey left the kitchen and walked around to the bathroom, handing it to him. “In there, same with the towels once you’re done. Just leave it by the door.”  

Darting away after witnessing him shirtless, feeling herself begin to drool over his perfect chest and chiselled abs, she felt her insides quake pleasantly, but pushed it right down into the very depths of her guts, Paris’s words echoing though her head like a mantra about not fucking up her family by fucking a member of it. She would make coffee, she would be a gracious host, she would go and sit at the window to watch the storm with her tea, and she would absolutely not entertain any thoughts about her brother-in-law being fifteen feet away, naked and wet. No.  

“Hey darlin’.” She thought he was talking to her for a brief moment, before turning to see him on his phone after exiting the bathroom. “Yeah, I made it to Zoey’s, so I’ll hunker down here until it’s over. Are the babies alright? Oh, of course he bloody did, that kid is insane. Alright, well tell them I love them. Bye.”  

“What’s Seth done now?” she asked from her seat at the window in the big armchair, Tyler taking the sofa as he sipped his coffee and placed it down on the huge, glass coffee table he’d helped her carry up nine flights of stairs after she’d bought it and swiftly found it was too big for the elevator. “Coaster!” she then shouted, Tyler wincing and picking one up, giving her a little salute that made her giggle.

“Went into the garage, found my crowbar and then ran around the garden using it as a lightning rod. I’ve got to get better at hiding things before he ends up taking himself out, or one of us.” Thinking of his mental six year old, he smirked, imagining him running around in the rain. He did the same thing when he was three with a fork.  

“He’s so damn funny. Remember when we took him camping last,” she began, exploding with laughter.  

“With the ham.” He guessed the source of her amusement correctly, sipping his coffee and trying not to snort as he remembered his son standing on the bank of the river nearby where they’d pitched their tents, waving a slice of ham, apparently trying to ‘catch a crocodile’ as he worded it. “Would have helped if there was actually any around. Then again, I like my boy in one piece.”

She breathed a sigh of relief at the normal, pleasant chatter they fell into, the conversation tempering the fact that her pulse was racing at seeing him in nothing but a pair of low-slung black sweatpants, that delicious line of hair leading up to his navel beckoning her to go and lick it. ‘Here you go again. Fucks sake, Zoey!’

True to his prediction, he fell asleep not long after finishing his coffee, Zoey covering him with one of her large blankets, heading over to her little office area to get some work done, the rain still pelting down outside. She stopped at 1pm, deciding to make a big dish of macaroni cheese so she’d at least have something for dinner she could either heat up, or eat cold if the power did go out.

Until then, she made a couple of sandwiches, some for Tyler too when he eventually woke up, going back to work and managing to get a few more financial plans all sorted before predictably, the power went out.  

“Fucking hell!” she screamed, almost dropping her tea as the sound of the thunder tearing through the sky, standing at the window to witness the carnage outside, her mouth dropping open. There was another audible rumble to follow, this one from within her apartment though, Tyler getting up off the couch.  

“Good sleep?”

He coughed, rubbing his eyes and finger combing his hair as he joined her at the window. “Yeah, pretty good. Six undisturbed hours is unheard of in a house with three kids, so I feel great. Do you have a spare toothbrush? I’ve got furry teeth.”

“In the bathroom cupboard, there’s a new pack of three in there. All pink, too!”

“However will my masculinity survive?” She snorted with laughter, shaking her head and taking a seat to watch the show, curling up in the armchair. She was joined by her houseguest after a few moments, Tyler taking the floor cushions by the window while they watched the carnage outside.  

“You got plenty of candles?” he asked.

“Yeah, the power already went out, by the way. Luckily the stove top is gas, though, so we can still boil water for drinks. Oh, I made lunch a while ago, there’s a plate of sarnies in the fridge.”  

He got up, smiling. “I’m being very well taken care of here. I might stay a little longer, see what else I get.”  

“Behave yourself,” she warned, Tyler chuckling.  

“When I’m bad, I’m better, though.” So, he’d woken up frisky. Here they were, in her apartment, with nowhere to go and no one to disturb them. It would be a fight of sheer willpower to remain true to the angel on her shoulder, imploring her not to listen to the devil upon the other.  

Everything continued as normal, save a few flirty comments here and there for the rest of the afternoon, the evening leading to them sitting on the floor after eating dinner, both drinking beer as they played Monopoly with a lack of anything better to do. Well, there was one thing that was much better than a board game, but that just so happened to be the one thing they were battling hard against succumbing to.  

“Oh no, you’ve moved to red wine. That spells danger,” he commented as she came back through from the kitchen, sitting down and rolling the dice.  

“Well, there’s nothing else to do other than sit here and get shitfaced, so why not?” she shrugged, moving the hat the required number of spaces. “Yes! Community chest!”

“Are you using weighted dice or something?”

“No, because then you’d be winning too, and you’re losing to me by a considerable amount.”

“Be quiet, fancy bogan.” He received a slap to the chest for that, laughing more at her ire.

“What have I told you about calling me that? Stop it.” He just laughed, rolling the dice again and sending himself right to jail. “Fucks sake!”  

A few more rounds around the board and a few further drinks later and they were starting to tire of the game, but not before Tyler discovered some deviousness afoot.  

“Are those hotels stuffed into your bra?” He exclaimed, noticing a few lumps to the side of Zoey’s boob when she leaned forward to move her piece.  

“No, it’s my nipple!”

“Oh, your nipple is all the way up there, eh?” Poking her right where the contraband was hidden, she began to giggle, Tyler taking things a step further and yanking the bottom of white crop top she was wearing along with her bra, pulling them until the little green pieces fell out on the floor.  

“Stop it, quit being a beast!” She squealed as he began to tickle her, trying to fend him off but not managing it, in absolute hysterics, finally managing to catch him with a slap to the stomach that made him let go of her and fold.  

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“Sorry, did I wind you?” She asked, resting her chin on his shoulder. He took a few deep breaths, sitting up again and raising his eyebrows, prompting more laughter.  

“Stop giggling, Zo. You’re not funny.”

“I’m fucking hilarious.”  

“Among other things.” She looked so beautiful in the amber glow from the candles, making her eyes reflect the little golden flecks among the hazel, her eyelashes so long and dark, the perfect frames for those gorgeous eyes. It was happening again, as they perhaps both knew it inevitably would, both finding themselves becoming lost in a moment they knew they should have fought harder against.  

Unlike in his squad car, though, there was nothing to intervene their faces nearing as hearts escalated and hormones ran rampant. Zoey had no clue how she managed to pull herself back, but she did, suddenly getting up and heading for the window, needing to put space between them. He followed though, standing behind her, his insides alight with the consuming desire he could no longer quell.  

Standing behind her, he slowly slid his hands down her arms, laying a kiss to the side of her neck. Just that one press of his lips and her insides were as torrid as the storm on the other side of the glass she looked through, realising there was no way out. Still, though. She tried. Weakly, but she made one last effort as she felt the control slipping from her tentative grasp.  

“Tyler...we can’t.”

“No, I know. I’m about five rejections past caring about what I can’t do, though. You want me, and I want you. That’s the uncomplicated truth, Zoey.”

It was. No matter how wrong, how illicit, how verboten all of this was, they couldn’t deny it. Trying to ignore what had been ignited between them was as futile as attempting to extinguish a bush fire with a water pistol. Nothing they had within them was strong enough to counteract the blaze, and so as they let go of reason, guilt, and doubt, falling into a scorching kiss, they simply let it burn.

She thought it would be as furious as the storm outside, when she finally let go, but although blindingly passionate, there was no urgency, no fury. Just heat. Bouncing off the floor into his arms, she locked her legs around his waist, her insides warm and tingly already as he stroked her back, holding her securely while carrying her up the steps to her mezzanine bedroom.  

As she was laid down on the bed, another bolt of lightning streaking the sky outside followed by an almighty boom, Zoey tried to form thought, pull herself out, but the connection, it was like being towed by a thousand wild horses away from her sanity, away from anything that wasn’t them, him, this moment.  

And it felt good, oh did it feel good to lie beneath him, to have her longing sated as they shared hot, syrupy kisses, hands roaming each other’s skin, her crop top pushed up by explorative fingers aching to get beneath. Taking it, she pulled it over her head, Tyler’s hand still beneath her clicking her bra clasp, revealing her small, but utterly perfect breasts.  

They were every bit as lovely as he’d imagined, her dark pink nipples standing erect already, his mouth covering one and sucking, a groan rumbling his throat. Just that one action made it even more real for her, it sealed it, there was no going back now such intimacy had been encroached upon.  

Her eyes fluttered shut, his mouth moving to the other hardened bud, making her jolt when he bit down, tongue circling in the aftermath, his hand sliding down to slip into her leggings, her soft moan at his fingers skimming her slit through her underwear daggering right to his cock.  

“Do you want me to do exactly what I told you I would?” He asked, his inky pupils finding hers, both overcome, lips swollen from the crush of hot kisses. There was no stopping this.  

“You damned better.” He grinned, grabbing her leggings and undies, pulling them off and then moving to shed his sweats, Zoey’s eyes nearly falling out of her head all over again when she got to see that huge cock in the flesh for the first time. The picture didn’t do it justice. Fuck, it was perfect.  

“Damn, that’s a beautiful body.” He breathed, kissing his way up from her sternum to her mouth, his hand trailing down, a shuddered breath fluttering over her tongue as he dipped his fingers at her entrance, feeling how soaking she was already. A woman who was wet, responsive and wanting of him. He’d missed it.  

He’d craved hot skin, feminine curves and soft moans, the likes of which he stirred in Zoey as he moved his fingertips to her clit, stroking her with gentle precision, her thighs parting wider in response.  

“You like that?” He murmured, kissing her throat tenderly. Her reply, if you could call it that was but a series of gasps. “Yeah, you’re with someone who knows exactly what he’s doing. Never had that before, have you?”

“No, ahhhh!” she cried, overcome, spiralling, almost embarrassed at how wet he’d gotten her, feeling bashful that he truly has her out of her mind already. “Sorry if I’m too noisy.”  

He couldn’t help but snort softly with laughter at that. “Don’t be. There’s no such thing. You let it all out, baby. I want to hear you enjoying yourself.” Oh god, he called her baby. It made her insides turn to goo, even more so than the hand between her legs, stroking her so expertly, she shivered against him.  

“Fuck! Oh fuck!” she wailed, his fingers evoking something magical, her little bud swollen and sensitive, pleasure radiating.  

“There?”  

“Yes, right there. Ohhh!”  

She could feel her clit bouncing against his touch, a touch that was just as good as her own in precision, but with the kind of gentleness that she felt staggering. He knew a woman’s body. And Ella denied herself this?  

Her entire body jolted when his fingers lowered to push inside her, Tyler groaning against her throat, her slick muscles contacting around him. ‘Fuck, she’s so tight.’ He could barely wait to feel that same muscular hug around his dick. As he laid kisses across her neck, Zoey was staggered at how passionate he was, how much he took his time, how soft he could be.

She knew it’d be hot, if this ever did occur, but she’d expected something with more barbarous frenzy. This? It was effortless heat, the longing and yearning played out in a slow seduction, taking their time, savouring one another thoroughly. That savouring continued as Tyler began to kiss his way down her body, turning her onto her back as he slotted himself between her legs, enchanted by the way she arched up against him.  

Removing his fingers, he pushed her thighs wide, his thumbs stroking over the petals of her sex, puffy with arousal, parting her before with a long, dragging lick, he introduced his tongue, the groan spilling from her mouth like wine, her nails trailing over his scalp as she undulated against his face.  

“God, you taste amazing.” He exclaimed, sucking her folds, wanting to bury his face in the plush warmth of her cunt, his cock so hard, it throbbed, the urge to be inside her stronger than ever before. She was liquid silk against his tongue, zesty yet sweet, her shortly trimmed, dark curls tickling his nose, her pubic region perfectly groomed, bare but a wide triangle of hair left upon her mound.  

As he licked at her, Zoey rested back on her elbows, watching him do it, the sight more arousing to her than she could imagine, his tongue moving in a sumptuously slow roll over her hardened bud, her eyes crossing, head tipping back, a wail of pure bliss pouring over her lips as her hands tugged at his hair.

Her thighs twitched against the slow, tickly stroke of his fingers up and down them, one hand moving back to her apex, fingers gliding back inside her heat, curling at the knuckle and raking her deftly, his lips introducing suction at her clit, gentle at first before he added further pressure.  

With her eyes virtually rolled back in her head, she collapsed onto her back, her thighs writhing against his face as she quivered and panted hard, being worked steadily to ascension with perfect precision, the moans tumbling from her mouth as her muscles all contracted, Tyler dragging and sucking her orgasm from her as fire roasted her insides and glimmered her spine.  

“I think I owe you big time for that,” she purred, catching her breath before kissing him, the taste of herself on his tongue mind meltingly erotic.  

“We’ve got all night for that. Fancy riding me instead, just like you told me you would?” The way he arched an eyebrow at her questioningly gave her a very pleasurable stomach flip, moving from her position and letting him sit with his back against the black wooden headboard, moving astride him and clasping his cock. There truly was no turning back now, but nothing else even entered their minds other than how crippling it was, about to be joined as she steered him to her entrance and slid down.  

They both gasped at the exquisiteness, their bodies blooming with incandescence, the hot velvet clutch of her pussy spasming around him. That viscid clench made him tremble, Zoey watching his abs judder as she looked down at him, drinking him in, remembering just how perfect he looked beneath her. She vowed this indiscretion would only happen once, so she wanted to remember it.  

The sky flickered again as she leaned forward and kissed him, thunder rolling through the clouds while rain pattered against the window behind her bed, the storm just as potent as the sex they shared, except what happened in that bedroom was yet to gather any kind of urgent momentum.  

She knew it was coming, much like the storm outside, there was a palpable calm there she knew would eventually whirl like a tempest between them, but for that moment, she was drunk on the slow burn. “Feels even better than it looks. Yeah, I’d have to agree with that!” She exclaimed quietly as they shared hot, open-mouthed kisses, Tyler’s laugh rumbling.

“I can feel. Christ, you’re so wet.” She was liquid heaven around him, gently fluttering as she rolled her hips against him, her nails trailing his back over the large tattoo there, making his skin break out into goosepimples among the scars, the reminders he carried with him of the hard life he’d once lived.  

She seeped over him like a mist rolling through a valley, ensnaring his senses, so blinding that all he could see and feel was her, this moment, hands clasped to her back as his head dipped to suck her tits with a hungry grumble. He was tingling though each shiver, his muscles cording, heat sizzling up his spine as her slow roll entranced him, fucking him into the bed thoroughly, yet so damn slowly.

He reached between them, thumb stretching to her clit and beginning to circle, watching her eyes further dilate, inky and lusty, her forehead resting to his as she panted and cried out.  

“How do you...fuck...how...ahhh...you know exactly how to touch a woman. How?” She gasped, slowly rocking against him, feeling like she was both burning and drowning.

“I pay attention. It isn’t difficult to figure out that doing this...” trailing off, he pressed his thumb a little more firmly at her clit, making her gasp. “Elicits that kind of response.” He loved it, loved watching a woman get off on what he did to her, it’s why he paid attention in the first place. He’s decided a long time ago that he didn’t want to be just good in bed, he wanted to be the best fuck every woman he’d ever bedded ever had.  

For Zoey, that was certainly the case.

There was no need for greater friction as they indulged the languidness of their tryst, but Tyler being Tyler, he wanted her beneath him, at his mercy, so gripped her waist and turned her so her back was against the mattress, only losing tangency for a moment before reaching between them to guide himself back into her dripping core.  

Looking up at him, she licked her top lip seductively, Tyler honestly having no idea how he hung onto the desire to blow his load in her right then. God, she was so sexy. “Oh, so this is how it is, hmm?”

“What, you being pinned down, just like I told you I would? Yeah, that’s how it is.”

“So, how are you gonna give me that perfect cock of yours now? Do I get it slow, or hard and fast? Either way, I’m good being pinned here.” Her fingernails gently stroked his bare chest, her tongue darting out to lick the column of his throat, Tyler feeling himself burn torridly as he stroked his hands down her sides, not replying in words.  

The thick heat of him arrowed into her with slow focus, his pubic bone grinding right on her clit, Zoey’s mouth dropping open as pleasure skittered through her. That’s how he chose to remain, too, slow, his cock dragging her core languidly, deeply, the tingling stretch of him making her burn as her body arched to his, adrift from herself with ecstasy.  

It just kept on building too, yet he didn’t speed up once. The pressure of his erection inside of her was perfect, the angle of each thrust having the same effect as dynamite, her fuse lit, prime to explode. When she did, gasping and wailing, clawing at his back as he nipped at her neck and lost himself, she almost felt close to blacking out as she shattered around him, her cunt throbbing on his dick as he spilled into her. He was right. He did make her cum twice as hard as anyone else ever had.  

She knew this was when the guilt was meant to hit her, but as she lay there, completely overcome, drunk on her orgasm as the pleasure ebbed away, her sister, or the fact that the man inside of her was married to her couldn’t be further from her mind.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The day he understood what Death means - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : The youngest Wayne makes a shocking discovery...And will need his parents, siblings, and the one and only Alfred, to recover from it. /Drabble.

I don’t know. I was thinking about this. How when you’re a kid, realizing that one day you’ll die, but worst, that the people you love will die, is sort of traumatic...And wanted to write about it. So. Here we are, with little Thomas eh. I hope you will like it :) :

My masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

__________________________________________________

If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories (long story short he’s the youngest kiddo, biological of Batmom and Bruce) : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Wild Child 2, “We want them back”, How do you make babies ?“ and Mom got lost again”

                                                   ******

Realizing your loved ones are not immortal for the first time can be traumatic. 

Especially if they’re amazing, if they’re your heroes, if you admire them beyond all measure, if they love you unconditionally just like you love them so damn much, and if you can’t even imagine your life without seeing them every day.

If you can’t even fathom the fact that maybe, one day, they won’t be there when you wake up and go look for them. And that they will never be there again. 

And so it was particularly quite the shocking discovery for little Thomas Clark Wayne, 5 and a half years old, to find out about that certain thing called...”Death”. 

It happened on a moody, rainy Summer day. The weather outside was awful, even for Gotham City. And it meant that Thomas was calmly playing inside, rather than getting up to some shenanigans in the garden. 

His parents were home, it was one of those rare day they both had off. 

Which always filled little Tommy with joy. It wasn’t often he could get them both with him !! In the end, the fact it was rainy outside was good. It meant they’d probably all snuggle up later in the day, and watch a film, a mug of hot cocoa in their hands. 

You would probably throw a blanket over him, and keep him close, sandwiched between you and his dad. His father would fall asleep half-way through the film, which would annoy you and Damian. 

Damian would join for sure. Sitting next to you. Yes. He would. Maybe Tim too, if he wasn’t too busy with college ? Oh he would surely make the time to come. And Cass ? Yes. Yes Cass would be there, sitting in her usual spot, on the floor right in front of you (or maybe Tommy). Because she knew you’d gently run your hand through her hair, and your youngest son slowly took the habit to do the same. Which was so soothing to Cass...Duke would certainly be there, he never said no to a good movie. 

Maybe, because it was a rainy day, Dick and Jason would come too ? Unlikely, but Thomas could hope. He loved having his entire family in one spot. 

They’d ask him to do his “puppy eyes” and convince Alfred to join them too, and not work. 

Alfred had an armchair reserved just for him. Right next to the couch where Bruce would sit, leaving enough space for Ace to lay down (Damian’s dog, Titus, always preferred to be near his master, who would more often than not be sitting next to you, laying his head on your shoulder, even as he was not a child anymore...Yes, Titus sat next to Cass, at Damian’s feet, letting his head fall down in Cass’ laps). 

Ace...Ace didn’t feel well yesterday, and this morning, the “dog doctor” came. 

Thomas heard him say they needed to give him a...an “indection” or something ? (An injection, really) So he’d probably get better. Shots were supposed to get you better or to avoid you getting sick, that’s what you told him. 

His dad looked upset, but it didn’t alarm Thomas much. Because his dad was always upset when him or his siblings would get a shot, he hated going, so it was probably the same thing. 

Come to think of it, Thomas hadn’t seen Ace since the “vekerinarianan” (or whatever it was pronounced) came earlier in the day. 

He suddenly wanted some “doggle” (dog cuddles), and so he put down the toys he was playing with, and went to look for him. 

Maybe, he could also round up the rest of his family so they’d start movie time earlier ? 

Hyped to have some family time, as he considered his dogs family for sure, he went on the hunt to find Ace, and gather everyone else. 

If only. If only he had known...

************

“Aaaace !! Aaace ? Ace boy, where are you ?” 

This was odd. Usually, Ace would come running if he heard the little one’s voice. That dog loved children, and he made it his mission to protect all of them (bonus point if he had some snuggle, and a few treats, while doing it). 

Bruce told him long ago to protect his kids...So Ace was always there. 

Maybe he wanted to play hide and seek ? Thomas would play that game with Titus and Damian, Ace never seemed very interested, but maybe he changed his mind ? 

“Ace ? Aaaacceeee ?” 

The boy roamed the manor, but every room Ace would usually hang in were empty. 

Finally, he decided he’d ask his parents, who would usually hang out in...oh, they weren’t in their usual spot either. In their bedroom, maybe ? 

Thomas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, sure that he would find Ace, and his parents, asleep in the master’s bedroom. When they had their day off, his mama and daddy would often take long naps together.  

Thomas immediately knew something was wrong when the door to the room was wide open. Slowly, he approached the place and...surely his parents were there. 

But something was off. 

His dad was laying in the bed, back to the door, his head laid in your lap. One of your hand was caressing his head soothingly, while the other was drawing calming circles on his back. 

Definitely something was not normal. You’d do that to your kids when they were sad, or sick...Was daddy sick ?! This gave Thomas a little fright. 

You whisper something into Bruce’s ears, and he doesn’t answer, just shaking his head to say “yes”. And so you stand up, after giving him a kiss on the cheek, and...You spot your youngest son. 

You smiled at him reassuringly, and go to him. 

“Hey little buddy. You should give a big hug to Daddy, he’s very sad today.” 

You say, walking past him and ruffling his hair. 

From the direction you were taking, you were going to the kitchen, and Thomas just instantly assumed you were going to brew some tea for his dad. When Bruce was sad, you’d always brew some tea for him, from his mother’s garden (which was kept up nice and clean by you and Alfred, now). 

Worried about his dad, Thomas slowly walked to him and climbed on the big bed. Bruce turned around to see what this new weight was, as he knew you had just left and...He smiled. 

Of this wide pure genuine smile he gave his family only. 

But there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes, and Thomas didn’t like that one bit. So the little boy crawled to his dad, and nestled next to him, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck and holding tightly. 

Bruce engulfed his son in his own arms, holding onto the little one, burrying his face in his hair. There was always something comforting, in the smell his kiddo had. It was a mix of your smell, which was always soothing to him, but also something more...Something soft and sweet. 

Just like his son. 

Little Thomas was the epitome of a sweet child. It was a miracle, a man like him made a child this cute and happy. Ah, but he wasn’t raising him alone of course. There was you, and his siblings, and Alfred... 

After a pause of the little boy holding his dad, he whispered slowly : 

“Daddy, why are you sad Daddy ? Please don’t be sad, it makes me sad too.”

Thomas unwrapped his arms from around his dad’s neck, and squished his little hands on Bruce’s cheeks. Which made Bruce sigh fondly, chuckling a little as he said, honestly (he shouldn’t hide this sort of things) : 

“Because Ace is gone.”  

There’s another silence, during which Thomas tries to understand why is the fact Ace went somewhere so sad. He cannot figure it out, so he asks : 

“But, he’ll come back daddy. Like always. Yes ? Ace is a good boy.” 

“Was.”

Bruce is clumsy in his grief. He always been. He’s not sure how to broach the subject to his son, how to explain to him their dog was just too old and sick to make it...He doesn’t know how to explain death to him. 

“Was ?” 

“Ace is gone for good.” 

“What do you mean Daddy ? Where did he go ? Why couldn’t we see him again ? Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Oh. Oh the sweet innocence of a child that is maybe a little too sheltered by his family (he’s the youngest, the one they’re trying to keep away from the horror they see every day as much as they can...Although he’s still trained, all of them hope he will never become a Robin, or worst, a Batman). 

“Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Sweet, sweet Thomas. Not able to even fathom that Ace is never coming back...and why would he ? How could he know what his father meant ? 

“No, no he didn't move out. He left us, to a place we can’t follow him to.” 

Another short pause. And you could see the gears in little Thomas’ head turning. After a little bit, he asks :

“...The toilets ?”

This makes his father chuckle, even in this sad times. But he continues : 

“No. Not the toilets. He...He went really far away, where we can’t ever see him again.” 

This idea is so foreign to your son, that he raises himself on one of his elbow and exclaims : 

“Why would he do that ? Does he not love us anymore ?” 

Obviously, the thought is distressing to the little bird. So Bruce says : 

“No no no, of course he still loves us...loved, us. But he had to go.”

“But why ?” 

“Because he was getting very old, and sick.”

“But we don't mind daddy, right ? We don’t mind ? He doesn't have to go away for that, I don’t care if he doesn’t play like he used to, I want him to stay ! Tell him daddy, call him on the phone to tell him to come back.” 

Bruce is lost. How ? How can he explains what death means ? He thought about this moment coming many times, but never told him anything as he thought that he had time to know what it meant. He had time...

How do you tell a child that one of his favorite “person” in the world is dead ?

“Unfortunately buddy, we have some sad news.”

His savior. You, as usual. With two cups of tea, and a cup of hot cocoa on a tray. As you went downstairs to get some “pick me up” for Bruce, you knew your son was gonna need it too. 

“What news mama ?” 

“Ace. He died today.” 

You actually thought about it as you were preparing everything for them. How to talk about this ? You decided to go with “honesty”. Not brutal honesty though. You weren’t about to traumatize your son. 

But you thought it was important he knew what happened to Ace. As a child, you hated how your brothers tried to make you think your ferret ran away to Las Vegas or something of the like. 

You understood this sentiment, of course. But you also remembered how betrayed you felt when you finally understood “death” and realized your beloved Mister Will Ferret was NOT in Sin City having fun, but just died...

The truth was important. 

Especially about such subjects. 

Children weren’t dumb. And they had every right to know certain truth.

Did you wish your son could stay innocent for longer ? Of course. But he still had a right to know what happened to his dog. To be treated like a person and be explained things. 

People, too often, treats children as some kind of idiots who wouldn’t comprehend complex things anyway, and who have to be protected at all cost from anything...

Kids were clever. You had a bunch of them to prove it so. But above that, although you agreed kids had to be protected...You weren't one of those person who thought you should lie to your children in order to do so. 

 Because one day, he’ll know what death is. He’ll know what happened to Ace. And what if the fact you lied that day, settles a slight distrust in him towards anything you’ll ever tell him ? Just like it did with you and your brothers ? 

No. You thought at first it was a good idea to delay such a conversation. But why ? Because it would make you more comfortable ? That didn’t sound very fair in regard of your boy.

Everyone always talked about “the birds and the bees” talk, but never about something that was even more inescapable than that...

Death. 

You give him a few seconds to take in your words. “Ace died today.” You wait for his reaction. He seems to think about it, having vaguely heard of “death” before...finally he asks : 

“What does it mean ?” 

He’s sitting up in the bed now. Bruce did the same, encircling his arms around his boy protectively (old habits die hard). But he’s determined to explain things to him too. You and Bruce were always rather in sync, about how you should raise your children. 

“It means he will no longer be with us. He passed away to something else.” 

“To what ?” 

“No one really knows.” 

“Will we see him again ?” 

“No.” 

“Why ?”

“Because he’s dead.” 

“And being dead means you can’t see anyone anymore ?”

“Being dead means you are not living on this Earth anymore, so yes, you cannot see them anymore.” 

“It means we can’t see him ? And what do you mean not on Earth ? Is he in Space ? Can we see him if we go to the watchtower ?” 

“I mean in our life, we will not see Ace again. He won’t be with us ever again. He’s not in space, he’s just gone.” 

“Because he’s dead ?” 

“Because he’s dead.” 

“So, being dead means we don’t get to see someone ever again ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ever ever ?” 

You decide to leave any conversations about a possible after-life aside, as it’s clear this, he’s not quite old enough to comprehend. So you keep on talking about the truth, with the support of Bruce. 

“Yes. Ever ever.” 

It takes Thomas a few minutes to take in all those new informations. Bruce is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, behind the boy. And your son is clearly lost in deep thoughts...Up until finally, finally tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 

“But I didn’t even say goodbye !”

“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to say goodbye...” 

“But mama, how will he know I loved him so much if I didn’t even say goodbye before he left ? How could you let him go before I did ?”

“I’m sorry, if I could chose I would’ve-...He knew you loved him and-”

“Are you going to die too ?!”

The dreaded question. Dreadest of them all, really. But you can’t lie to him. Not now that you started to explain things. 

“Yes. Everyone dies one day.” 

“But but but...but I don’t want you to die ! And Daddy ?” 

Bruce nods, and...and that’s when it finally happens. 

The awful moments your sweet innocent boy realizes what death sort-of means. That one day, none of his parents will be in his life anymore. Than one day, he’ll lose his siblings, and Alfred. 

Just like he lost Ace. Because he was “old and sick”. But...Thomas knew a lot of sick people ! And a lot of old people ! Were they going to die too, without him being able to say goodbye ?!

And so the tears started to fall. And oh, oh did they fall. 

Bruce held his son against his heart, drawing soothing circles on his back, just like you usually do. And you came to sit next to them, encircling them in your arms as well. 

Thomas was trying to talk, but nothing came out very clearly as he cried, cried, cried and cried some more. 

When he finally calmed down, he was slowly falling asleep, crying drained him of all his energy. That night, there was no “movie time”, but comforting snuggles with his parents... 

Thomas had finally discover what “Death” meant.

************

“Oh my God Thomas !”

Bruce’s heart drops.

The entire scene goes in slow motion, and the fearless Batman can see his entire life flash in front of his eyes, as his tiny son is running towards him, while a few thugs were about to shoot automatic weapons at him...

“There’s a kid ! There’s a kid !”

“Who cares, we have the bat right at our mercy, just shoot !”

“I can’t shoot a kid...”

“Should we shoot ?”

The few seconds of surprise after Thomas bursted in allow Damian to swoop down, and to get rid of everyone. Slowly, a serious face on, your son walks to his dad and, solemnly, he says :

“This was too close, father. And...Thomas...”

“I know Damian, I know.”

Your little boy was inconsolable, clinging to his dad.

They didn’t even have to ask him how he got there. It was obvious he somehow snuck into the Batmobile (which wasn’t that much of a surprise, although it was already quite a feat...Thomas was small, but also very stealthy, as he was taught to be).

He was only five, and it wasn’t really clear to him yet his dad was that “Batman” everyone talked about, that his siblings were also vigilantes...But he knew that when they went out at night, they were often in danger.

And that night. That night right after the one Thomas learned what Death was...He snuck in the car, so he would make sure “she” would not take her dad away ! Or her brothers and sister !

Only Damian and Bruce were in the car, on patrol together. The rest of the kids were scattered across the city, and you were taking care of the bat computer (nowadays you were the one doing so to give some relief to Alfred).

Thomas took the habit to fall asleep in the cave, in a bed there just for him...and he must’ve snuck into the car. 

It was nobody’s fault. It was very unlike the boy, to do such a thing.

He got into the car. When Damian and his father got out of it to apprehend a few of Two-Face’s thug, he stayed behind, looking at what they did...but when he saw those men about to shoot his dad (a proper ambush), he jumped out, punching every buttons (which was quite dangerous itself) to find which one opened the door, and then he ran to his dad...

The surprised probably saved Bruce. But it also almost killed him with a heart attack. 

What if those men didn’t hesitate long enough for Damian to take care of them ? What if they shot anyway, ignoring the surprising appearance of a small child ? What if they had recognize who that kid was, too ? (Unlikely, this was a time where Thomas was still quite sheltered from media, as you tried to give him a childhood as normal as you all possibly could). 

What if they shot anyway...

Bruce doesn’t think he would’ve survived the death of his youngest son. He was sure, actually, that he would’ve killed those men. 

That is, if Damian didn’t do it first. 

But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen, but it was so close. So close. 

Later, when everything calmed down, Thomas would explain he jumped in the car to “keep death away”, to protect his daddy and brother. To make sure Death wouldn’t take them. 

And that's when you all understood Ace’s death, and the discovery that everyone dies one day, one way or another, truly was “traumatic” for your baby. 

From that point on, you made sure that Thomas would be in the cave...but this event. This event really unfolded a problem you knew you’d have to tackle truly one day. 

You just had no idea yet how to help your son. 

************

Damian had told Jason the debacle that was yesterday. About his parents explaining to their little brother what it meant to be dead. And about how it lead to Thomas sneaking into the Batmobile and running in front of danger to “protect” his dad. 

Because of where he grew up, Damian always knew what death meant. And he never cared much (or convinced himself he never cared much). He understood from a very young age what all this shenanigans was...

Jason did too. He found his mother, dead, when he was three years old. He grew up surrounded by death, in the gutter of Gotham. He knew. He did. 

But Thomas. 

Thomas was a “normal” 5 years old boy, as normal you can be in such a family. He trained a little, and sort of knew about his dad being “Batman” (but it seemed he didn’t understand he was ACTUALLY the Batman people talked about in the city). 

He spend most of his nights in a little area made just for him, with a bed and such, in the batcave (he hated sleeping upstairs alone, so he would sleep in the batcave and you’d pick him up to bring him in  his bed once you’d go to bed, and/or once the rest of your family would get home). 

So for a little one like Thomas, who was pure and sweet and nice...It was a shock, to know one day he’d lose the people he loved. 

He was inconsolable, at Ace’s funerals (thrown at the back of the Manor).  

He couldn’t get over the fact he didn’t get to say goodbye, and that he would never play with his dog anymore. 

It made it worst, that Ace’s death made everyone else sad. That dog truly was a member of the family... 

“I know you're feeling very sad. I'm sad, too. We all loved Ace so much, and he oved us, too.”

You told him a few times, tryin to put words on his emotions and helping him understand...God, to Damian, you truly were the most amazing mother. Always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it.  

But Thomas was still blue, and it was so unlike his usual bubbly personality. 

And so, both Damian and Jason made it their mission to distract their little brother, and...it worked. For the most part. It really worked. 

Amongst all his siblings, Damian and Jason were the ones that loved having a little brother the most. Not that the others didn’t, of course ! They just were a little less willing to play for hours on end with a little kid. 

They were rather busy. Jason and Damian always found ways...They were an unlikely pairs at first glance. Most people would think Damian was the closest to Dick, and Jason too. But no. They were equally as close to all their siblings, in different ways. 

But Damian and Jason, they had an extra connection. Jason was there, when Damian was a baby. He didn’t remember his own name, and was used by the Al’Ghuls after they resurrected him...But he was still one of the only person in Damian’s life that truly valued him. 

Fate, right ? A funny thing. After all, how small did the world have to be for two of Bruce’s sons to meet in such a way ? A hidden son, and one he thought dead, at that ?! 

In any case. They were closer than most would think. And they also were linked not only by the Al’Ghuls, but by how they were both ripped off of an actual childhood, and therefor wanted to make sure their little brother had one too (Cass was the same, but more subtle, and discreet). 

And so...

They played, made art pieces, jigsaw puzzles, watched his favorite movies, cooked...Anything to take his mind off of “Death”. 

That little boy would overthink too much, for such a young age. 

But overall, Damian and Jason did a good job distracting him from the pain. 

They did an amazing job. 

You were so proud of how they took care of their baby brother (and it would give yourself more time to go cheer up the “Oldest Wayne”, your dear husband, who definitely had a hard time getting over his dog’s death...). 

Only, there was one problem...And that problem was that neither Damian nor Jason, just like everyone else, were immortal. 

And this, this, Thomas would realize very soon. 

************

“More compresses, Master Tim !” 

“On it Al !” 

The loud noises woke Thomas up. You knew. You knew you should’ve gone up to bed earlier. Tuck him in, and wait for your family to come back. 

Ah. But when they all arrived in the cave, ALL of them, including Dick who did not live at the manor anymore...You knew there was a problem. 

And indeed. Jason had been badly hurt. Not something that couldn’t be fixed, but ah, once again, too damn close. 

Everyone was on the tail of a high profile serial killer, the newcomer called “Dr Pyg”, and...Collateral damage. It happened, in this line of work. 

It wasn’t easy. Especially when it was one of your baby. But you had to keep a leveled head, as you helped Alfred fix your boy. 

You had taken medical trainings early in in your relationship with Bruce. For obvious reasons. And there was rarely a day it didn’t come in handy. 

In any case, all the noises around woke Thomas up. 

Before. Before he knew what death truly meant, he would’ve been worried. He would've cried. He would’ve been distressed. Of course. 

And one of his siblings would’ve taken care of him, reassure him, soothe and console him, and little Thomas would be ok again. 

Before he knew what death truly meant. 

He was so small anyway, most of the time he’d forget things, or just not understand them...but he was five now. Close to the age of reason. And definitely aware of his surroundings enough now to pay attention, and remember things. 

And he knew what death truly meant. 

He clung to Jason for dear life, even as everyone reassured him he was actually ok. Jason himself was conscious, he had been badly hurt but nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

He needed some rest for sure, but it was fine, really. 

It wasn’t fine for Thomas. He yelled, threw the biggest tantrum he ever threw, yelled some more that they should stop. That he didn’t want them to die. That whatever they were doing...He begged them to stop. 

Never before in your life, had any of you witness Thomas being in such a state. He was inconsolable. You couldn’t calm him down, no matter what...

And once more, it’s only because of exhaustion that he finally relaxed. But yet, still in his sleep, he clung to Jason’s sleeve, as if afraid his brother would be gone when he’d wake up. 

It tore yours and Bruce’s heart apart, to see your baby like this. But to be honest...neither of you knew what to do...

************

“Where’s Damian mama ? Where is he ?” 

Thomas was truly panicked. 

The first day, he thought maybe his brother was busy with school and such. The second day, he started to worry. But now ? Three days in a row with Damian not at the dinner table ? Or in his room ? Or in the batcave ?! 

It made Thomas anxious. What happened to his brother ? Was he...was he...DID DEATH TAKE HIM AWAY ? 

“Where’s Dami mama ? Where is he ?!”  Thomas kept asking, crying. And it took you moment to finally realize what your son must’ve thought. When you did, you picked him up and calmed him down, explaining Damian was simply over at Jon’s for a few days... 

And from that day on, you’d make sure to tell him why anyone would be gone for any amount of time. 

That night, Bruce and you talked about what you could do to help Thomas get over his consuming fear of losing one of you. 

But nothing really came to your minds. 

And it was awful, to feel like a failure like that. 

Later on, your Damian would tell you you were NOT failing at parents because you were a little lost about this. After all, none of your other kids got into quite a crisis like this one. He said maybe considering a therapist could do ? But oh, oh Thomas was so little. 

And if words were out that Thomas Wayne, barely five years old, was seeing a therapist ? The scandals would be unending, and would it really help your son ? 

Damian joined in in the search for a way to soothe his baby brother. He never said “no” to cuddles from him, but lately...Lately, Thomas almost became overbearing, as he made sure he’d always sort of have his eyes on everyone. 

And it wasn’t healthy, for such a little boy to worry so much. 

Damian missed his carefree baby brother. He knew he had to eventually grow up, of course, and that he’d have some hardships but...he was just five and a half ! He wasn’t suppose to be so scared of death ! 

And so he thought, nights and days, of a way to soothe him. But just like you and Bruce, this matter was quite delicate...

************

It seemed like Cass was the only one able to truly console him, and make him relax. She would sing him songs, just like you did to her when she felt sad. 

She would tell him tales of Death as a good thing, inspiring herself from many legends from around the world. 

She would try to put perspective on everything, in a way you truly admired. 

She never spoke too much, your Cass...But when she did, every words were carefully chosen and crafted into truly beautiful things. 

And it would soothe your boy. 

But only as long as he was with Cass. And he couldn’t always be with her. 

You didn’t have her talent to tell those tales, and your singing was working only for a few moments to put him to sleep but...you couldn’t always have him sleep. You had to think of more viable options. 

Nonetheless, when Thomas was really too anxious, Cass would be there. 

Relieving everyone of their worry, as she could calm her baby brother in matter of seconds. In those  moments, you wished time could stop. You truly did...

************

Thomas would cling to you and his dad the most. His siblings were often out and about, but you two ? Well you took some time off to be with your youngest son, to be there for him in this odd times...

And you weren’t sure it was such a good idea, in the end. 

He would often just snuggle up to you or Bruce, listening to your heartbeats, which would calm him...You’d normally never say no to hugs from your children. But this was all starting to become so unhealthy for the little one. 

What could you do ? What could you do ?!

************

Duke was panicking. 

Thomas was doing fine today, and Duke felt like he royally fucked up. 

Thomas was worried about Duke, telling him to be careful and that his heart would break if Duke ever died...Which melted Duke’s heart. 

It made him feel so loved and accepted. And he wanted to help little Thomas so much...

That’s when he made a rookie mistake. 

After all, he was still quite new at this “big brother” thing. 

“There are things worst than death.” 

Is what he told him. What was he thinking ? Reflecting on things, Duke realized he didn't think it through. To him, it was a soothing way to say death wasn’t that bad. But...Ah, ah it made Thomas cry. 

“What ? What is worst than not seeing you guys ever again ?!”  

At that moment, Duke hadn’t realized quite yet how much he fucked up. So he said : “Well, my parents can't remember me, can’t remember who they are...They’re not dead, but they’re not here anymore. They’re physically here, but they don’t know me, they don’t know how to hug me, they can’t be my parents anymore...Yet they’re still alive.” 

The horrified look on Thomas’ face is what gave him a hint that this really wasn’t a good thing to say...

“No no no wait Thomas, don’t cry please, I was trying to tell you...Wait Thomas, please, no. Oooh buddy, buddy I’m so sorry.” 

It almost made Duke cry too, to witness the one he considered his little brother in such distress. He wasn’t trained for this ! He wasn’t trained for this !!!

This was the first time Duke truly felt like an older brother, truly felt like he understood this important role. He had to think before saying something. He had to protect his baby brother. He had to find ways to soothe him...

“Ok here we are, here we are everything is a-okay, you’re ok, things will be ok...” 

Duke picked Thomas up, and started to rock him back and forth slowly, just like his own mom did to him...He mixed the way his mom used to put him to sleep, with your soothing singing. With words he borrowed from you. 

“I’m here, I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. Things will be ok baby boy, things will be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean any of it...” 

Duke had been living with you for a while now. He came to see all of you as his second family, even as his parents were still alive, and a constant chain holding him back at times...a chain that broke right at this moment. 

Thomas was his little brother. He truly was. 

And Duke was determined to be there for him. Especially after he made him cry. 

“It’s ok Tommy, cry all you want. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to cry.” 

You always told him that. It was ok to cry. To be angry. To want to break everything. To want his mom...

But you were his mom too now. You were. And you had such a way with words. Such a soothing touch. Even as he was grown up now, you always knew what to say. You always did. 

“You’re ok, right ? Yeaaaah you’re ok. See, things are fine, we chill, we chill.” 

Duke was slowly swaying from left to right, Thomas in his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep, calming him down. His voice seemed to have the same effect than yours...Because he was calm. And because he meant it.

The love. 

The love he had for this little boy. 

It poured out of him, easily, naturally. 

He loved that kid so much. And he wanted him to be ok. And it seemed like Thomas ? Thomas felt it. He felt the love. Just like Duke felt the love of all of you...

That little bean put himself in such a state at the mere thought of Duke dying, of one of his brother leaving...And Duke. Duke realized he felt the same. 

Couldn’t imagine any of them dying. 

And so he poured love in his every word, and swayed from side to side, calming Thomas, and making sure he knew...He knew that, he was right there. 

Right there. 

************

“You’re getting old, Alfred.” 

You said jokingly, as you beat him at chess. And oh. Oh what a mistake you just did. 

“Old ? I don’t want you to die Alfred, I don’t !” 

Thomas was playing next to you. You hadn’t thought about his “trauma” for a little while as he seemed to feel a little better lately...But oh, he plunged right back into it there. 

Because of you. You felt absolutely awful...

“I’ll fight Death for you Alfred ! I will ! I won’t let her take you !!” 

It took a while, as it became usual now, to calm him down. He was ready to throw hands with Death. Fierce that no one would take his “grandpa”. But he was still very scared and sad...

“I’m a terrible mother...”

You told Bruce that night. And he held you against him, consoling you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that it was just friendly banter with Alfred as usual...

“You are the literal opposite of a terrible mother, my love.”

“But Broosh, I made him- I-” 

You sniff, unable to control your sobs as you remember your poor little boy holding Alfred and yelling at Death she can’t take him. The poor butler himself didn’t even know how he could do anything to calm him down...

“We’ll find a solution my love, we’ll find a solution...” 

This entire night, Bruce stayed up although he was exhausted, so he could soothe you and take care of you. Skipping patrol (knowing though the city was safe with his children out). 

At some point during the night, Thomas came to your room. 

It was often, lately, that after a nightmare he’d come running to you. His nightmares would often be about losing you...

You had finally fallen asleep, in your husband’s arms, and Bruce gestured to your boy to not make too much noice. 

Sweet little Thomas acquiesced, and slowly came to the bed, taking the hand his father gave him. 

Bruce was about to fall asleep too, knowing you had finally found sleep...But now, he wasn’t going to. Not until he made sure his son was asleep as well. 

All he could do for now, was being there for you two. Try to soothe you as best her could. As best he could...

Sleep was restless and full of nightmares. 

************

Dick would try to often visit his parents and siblings. As much as he could, which wasn’t always easy, with his work in Bludhäven. But nothing is more sacred than family...He realized that over the years.

During those moments, it would be rather normal for Thomas to go settle in his oldest brother’s laps. He would make the most of seeing him.

So today, as Dick was in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of coffee, it was no surprise when little Tommy came to see him.

You had bought a new espresso machine, and Dick had no idea how it worked...Slowly, his littlest brother came in, dragged a chair next to him, and used it to climb on the counter.

He then started to make Dick’s cup of coffee, without much of a word being exchanged. Dick smiled widely, his little bro was so cute and clever. In no time, he had make a great cup of coffee for him.

But...Something seemed to bother him. Tommy was an exuberant child when around his family, but he had been quiet right there. He didn’t jump in his brother’s arms like he usually does, and he wasn’t telling him all about what he missed since last time he came in !

Was it still this all thing about being worried about death ? 

“Are you ok little wing ?”

Ever since Jason, “Little Wing” or “Bird” became the common denomination for his younger siblings. A term of endearment that they all (secretly or not) loved.

Tommy seemed to think a little, while raising his arms, signifying he wanted Dick to pick him up.

Dick did, of course, and they went to sit at the kitchen counter, and as usual, Tommy settled down on Dick’s laps. He turned around and, after another short pause (Dick always knew when to stay silent, and wait for the other person to speak first) said :

“Dickie, are mom and dad not your mom and dad ?” 

“Mm ?” 

“Your real mom and dad, they died ? You can’t see them no more now ?”

There was a lump in Dick’s throat. Not because he thought about his parents no. He actually came to peace with their death long ago now. And though he missed them every day, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

He was lucky to find another loving family...From which that little worried kiddo in front of him was an important part of. 

“Yes, I can’t see them anymore.”

“It hurts ?” 

“It used to. Now less. I miss them, but I wasn’t alone.”

“Because you have our mom and dad ?”

“Yes.” 

Dick ruffles his hair fondly. 

“Do you wish you’d still have your real mom and dad ?”

“Mom and dad ARE my real parents too. I was lucky enough to find new ones. Not everyone is as lucky, like dad. He was alone for a long time” 

“What about Alfred ?” 

“It took dad a while to realize that Alfred was a second father to him” 

“So...Will you be my second dad if dad goes ?” 

Dick feels another lump in his throat. Bigger this time. 

He couldn’t even imagine the day he’ll lose this “second dad”, this one he had now called “dad” for longer even than his own biological father...Dick was 8, when he came into yours and Bruce’s life. 

He spend more  years with you two than with his “real” parents. You never replaced them, no. You just..became his parents too. 

He would never forget his biological parents. But he would never diminish the impact his adoptive one had. The love you and Bruce gave him. 

Would he be good enough to be Thomas “second dad” ? After all, he currently had about the age Bruce had when he adopted him...

But Dick couldn’t imagine losing Bruce too. Losing another father. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

Thomas was already moving on, asking more questions : 

“Will I find another mom and dad too if mom and dad die ? Or will I be alone like dad ? Will I have Alfred forever ?”

“I-I don’t know buddy.”

“What if I lose all of you at the same time ? I will be all alone then.” 

“You won’t.”

“But what if I do ?” 

“I’ll always be there.” 

“You can’t know that, can you ?” 

“Maybe, but this will never happen. You will never be alone.” 

“You really think so ?”

“I Do. And I promise little wing, I promise...You won’t lose all of us. You won’t.” 

Dick held his brother even tighter against him, and missed the unconvinced expression on Thomas’ face. 

************

Your youngest son was still utterly terrified of losing any of you. But his terrible fit would pass now, he would calm down more easily, and wouldn’t cry until exhaustion...But it didn’t mean he wasn't afraid anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

“Death” was still a constant on his mind. One of the biggest question. Without much answers. 

His mother and father said no one knew what happened after “death”, but Thomas wasn’t convinced. So he went to the only one he knew would tell him the truth, and was most likely to know...Tim.

His older brother was currently in the garden, studying for his finals. But oh he’d take a break for his little brother, of course. 

Especially lately, as said little brother was overly worried and needed constant reassurance. 

“Hi Timmy.” 

“Hey little one.” 

“Bothering you ?”

“You are not bothering me, never.” 

“Can I ask you a question then ?”

“Of course.” 

“What happens when we die ?” 

Oof. 

OOOOF. 

Not something Tim could say he expected to be asked. Even as he knew Thomas was sort of obsessed with this lately. And ah...Ah he started to get lost into physiological effects of death, into science, into things Thomas could definitely not understand...

And into things he didn’t care about. 

Thomas had no interest in knowing what happens to the corporeal side of things. To our bodies. He wanted to know where “we” went. Where the being went. The conscience. 

Of course he wouldn’t word it that way, but it was easy to understand that it was what he meant when he said : “where do we go when we die ?”. 

After a long time of Tim getting lost in many complex explanations about decomposition (what the Hell Tim ?), he finally stopped as he saw that Thomas was most definitely lost.  

“Where do we go after we die ?” 

“Yes. What happens ? You must know, you know everything !” 

The faith his littlest brother put in him made him feel warm inside but...unfortunately on this subject he had to disappoint him. 

“I..I don’t know about this, actually.” 

Thomas looked crestfallen. Was nothing sacred anymore ?? Death existed, and the one he thought would always have a solution to everything didn’t know something that important !! 

“There’s many theories.” 

“What’s a theories ?”

“One theory, multiple theories. A theory is...an idea of how things might work.” 

“What are the theory ?” 

“Theories, plural.” 

“What are the theories ?” 

“Well. Some people think that you go into some kind of afterlife. It depends the culture, and the religion, and...many other factors. But there’s usually a few places we can end up.” 

“And we’ll see the people who died there ? We’ll see them again ?” 

“Supposedly so.” 

“Is it sure ?”

“No, it’s just a theory.” 

“You said a theory is an idea of how things might work.” 

“An idea that might not be proven.” 

“What’s the point then ?” 

“Theorizing.” 

“I don’t understand...”

Of course he didn’t, he was a smart little boy...But still just five. Tim sat down to his level, and looked at him in the eyes : 

“Well. You have to understand that um...No one knows what happens after death. So we have to make theories, things that might or might not be. You understand ?” 

“No.” 

“Well, since we don’t know, we make things up. But maybe those things are right. Maybe they aren’t.” 

“So the answer is we don't know ?” 

“Yes. But there are theories ?” 

“Ok. So aside from the place we see others again, what are the theories ?” 

“Well (...)” 

Tim was a patient boy. For hours and hours, he tried to explain every single “theory” people might’ve had about what happens after Death. And Thomas listened carefully. 

Finally, Tim was done, and his brother said : 

“So...No one really knows, and there’s a lot of theory...ies. Theories.” 

“Basically.” 

Thomas looked so discouraged. Tim was very well aware that none of what he told him really helped his brother, or reassured him...But ah. Tim was known to not lie. Which was a good thing. And he couldn’t possibly have a free conscience if he had told his brother just one theory of the after life, the nicest one, just to reassure him. 

Of course, he wanted to reassure him. To distract him. But he would do so another way. Lying to him was not it. 

Still, it was so disheartening to see this sweet little boy so crestfallen. 

“Um, Well...I guess some people know.”

Thomas looked up at his brother, hopeful, waiting for him to continue. 

“Like Constantine. But um, he’s sort of crazy. And dad doesn't want him around the house for...reasons you’ll understand when you’ll grow up. And-”

Ah but Thomas wasn’t listening to Tim anymore, and his monologue as to why maybe John Constantine wasn’t such a reliable source.   

“Constantine” huh ? Interesting. Ah. Sometimes, Tim forgot how smart his little brother truly was...for a five years old. And how he took after his father, when it came to memory and attention to details. 

************

This constant worry went on for quite just a few days. A few very eventful days, that were so...exhausting. Thomas was constantly scared for your lives, and would cry if anyone got hurt too much. 

He would follow you around, and be way too stressed for such a little bean. 

Everyone came to hide their injuries from him, tried to distract him from what they were doing when out as the Bats...But it was becoming a real problem. 

How ? How could they make a little five years old understand that he couldn’t forever be afraid of death ? It was impossible. None of you, not even you, had the right words. There were no right words anyway. 

You could tell him whatever you wanted, it’d never make him stop thinking about Death taking one of you with her, taking one of you far away from him. 

“A place he cannot follow you to.” 

How ? How could you help ?!

But the change had to come from within him, you would soon realize. 

About a week after Ace’s death, and a truly painful few days of everyone being lost and unable to help the baby of the family... he suddenly spoke up, at dinner time : 

“Mama, mama, if one day you die, I will bring you back. I promise. Same for daddy, and Dick, and Jason, and Cass, and Tim, and Duke, and Damian, and Alfred. I don’t know if we can bring dogs back, but humans yes ? And worst case scenario, I’ll conjure your spirit so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll know we’ll see each others again !”

“Wh-What ?” 

“Stunned” doesn’t quite cover how you felt at your son’s sudden tirade, at dinner that night. Everyone was here, a rare occasion. Your one dinner a months that was mandatory for all your kids ! To make sure you’d all have moments together. 

And boom. Came this monologue out of nowhere, from your small little five and a half years old son. 

Stunned. Not a strong word enough to describe you, or your other children. 

But Bruce. Oh Bruce. Bruce was frowning. Narrowing his eyes in a way you knew perfectly well...It meant he was angry at someone. 

“Who told you all this, son ?” 

“Mister Constantine.”

A growl. A scary growl. From deep within your husband’s throat. You would NOT want to be John next time he’d see 

“How did you talk to him ?” 

“I used your phone.” 

“I don’t have his number on my...Wait, the bat phone ?!” 

“Yes. The one you call uncle Clark on !”

“What the-...how did you-ugh ?!” 

There were so many questions. So many. 

“I copied what you do, on the phone. And I asked it if it could call the Constantine.” 

“The Constantine”, this better not be a stupid way he called himself in front of his son, Bruce thought. Ah, and curse the fact he kept having kids that were too damn smart for their own good ! 

Kids this days. Growing up with technology. Able to work a batphobe at age 5 and a half !! 

“Hope I helped little man - John Constantine”, said the note that came to the manor a few days later. Which made Bruce fume with rage, but Thomas beam happily. 

Bruce was already planning to go after John, and force him to say what he told his son. But...But...

To be honest. Whatever he said. You didn’t care. You knew, more than anyone else, that “Death” wasn’t as definitive as it sounded at times. And you knew for certain there was something after you died. What ? You couldn’t be sure. But something. Another place. Or maybe reincarnation ? Who knew. 

Deep in your heart though, you knew that no matter what, if you ever were to die...You’d see your family again. You weren’t sure how or where. It was just a certainty in your heart. A gut feeling. 

Yes. You didn’t care what John told your son. If it could help him accept that everyone will die one day. Didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing you anymore. Oh no. But at least...At least he knew worrying about it lead nowhere. And to truly enjoy the moments of the present. 

Whatever John said, it helped your son. That’s all that mattered. And as Thomas would grow up, you knew he’d understand things more and more. 

He already knew he was luckier than many people. He had a loving family. They were all there with him for now (minus Ace, whom he missed every day). A lot of people couldn’t say the same thing. 

Death was an odd thing. Especially in the World you lived in. 

It wasn’t as definitive as some would say.

Your family knew that more than anyone else.  

Death was an odd thing, that wasn’t always the ultimate end...

This, one day, Thomas would truly understand. 

The end 

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). Just a quick thing again, my bigger story (fake boyfriend trope with Bruce hehe) is coming soon. But in the mean time, felt compelled to write about this. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and liked it ? Not my best work :/, another quick drabble written very late at night eh. But nonetheless, fun to write ? Hope it’s not a disappointment, it’s just a thing to make ya wait for a more elaborate thing that I took a lot of care writing. Anyway it’s 4 am, time for bed :).

If you did, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback or/and to reblog :). If you didn’t as well really, it’s always good to know what’s not good so I can improve (just stay civil please). 

PS : Bonus point if you get where I’m trying to arrive at with those last few words about how definitive death is :p. 

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Fine Line (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hey. Friends to lovers (the only trope i respect) You’re about to marry someone else, a prince from another village in an attempt to save relations with said village, only kakashi stands in the way of that, and everyone knows. 

Also, i know kakashi would never do this in reality, but gosh is it romantic to imagine

Word count: 5400

“Y/N, you really need to sleep,” Kakashi sighed, leaning on his fist which sat on the thin, flimsy armchair beside her bed.

She hadn’t slept properly for weeks now, day after day only falling asleep at random hours of the day, naps in the afternoon and a half hour of shut eye in the early morning. She ate sporadically, and her schedule had admittedly started to interfere with her friend’s. Kakashi found himself in her apartment, awake the majority of the nights trying to calm her down. 

But nothing was going to help this situation. Tsunade had decided already, after Y/N had hesistantly agreed. It wasn't as if this marriage was forced, but it certainly wasn’t ideal.

The woman never really imagined herself marrying at all, but if she had, she always dreamed it would be out of love for the other person, someone who would match her perfectly like a puzzle piece, essentially, someone who would complete her. 

Instead, she had been hastily shoved into an arranged marriage with a man she and Kakashi guarded on one of their missions. He was the wealthy crown prince in the Land of Frost. He was kind enough, and he respected her wishes when it came to the proposal, giving Y/N a month to decide whether she was ready to be wed to such a man.

He promised her the entire world. Jewels, clothes, children, a palace in which to live the rest of her days, anything she could possibly need he would have servants at her beck and call.

It hadn’t seemed like the worst idea at all, and Y/N shortly considered it. It wasn’t until Tsunade heard about it that things became serious. 

The relationship between the two lands was falling apart, and this was a last resort, she had said. It wouldn’t mean she could never see her friends again but meetings would be scarce, and she was positive he wouldn't let her train and go on the occasional, non-dangerous mission. It would be as if she were abandoning her entire life, she realized as the weeks passed after the engagement was set. 

And so the letter was sent back to the Land of Frost, and abruptly, Y/N L/N found herself engaged to be married in 3 months time. It seemed surreal, only having 90 days practically, to enjoy her normal life and prepare for an entirely new world. She hadn’t known anything else other than the way of shinobi, nor had she adjusted to other cultures. The Leaf was her home, and the thought of leaving it broke her heart.

For the first time in her life, it seemed she was petrified. Sure, there were times when she felt like everything was set up against her, that the enemy might win, but she hadn’t felt so hopeless and lost either. There always seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Not this time. 

“Please, just finish your tea and rest. You’re wasting away,“ he told her again, whispering in a soft tone only the two of them could hear. She was in the medical ward for the night, low blood sugar bringing her in this time. The dangerous combo of not sleeping or eating had set her body into a panic. She was so weak.

As she sipped the tea she sighed, feeling that sting of warmth run down her throat and bring some feeling to her empty, weak stomach. She couldn’t look at the man sitting beside her, it would only bring her pain, she decided. How could she face him? She was leaving him after all this time. 

It had been decades since they were apart for longer than the standard mission time. He was always there right alongside her. They grew up on the same street in the same complex. They attended the academy together, fought in the war side by side, travelled the world as jounin just trying to make their way through the twists and turns of village politics. She felt like shit having to leave him behind. It wasn’t like her new husband was going to let her have weekly visits to her old friend, a man who was closer than anyone else she knew. It wasn’t plausible. 

Slowly, she had realized that one day would be the last day she could hug Kakashi, that she could look up to him and hear his calm tone telling her it would all be okay, that he would never leave her behind, that he would always be there to protect her as long as she did the same for him. It wasn’t going to be like that anymore, and it often brought tears to her eyes in the late of night in her apartment, tears saturating her pillows and face swelling from the suffocated sobs. One day would be the last time she saw him, and it just hurt so badly. At times she found herself gasping for air, so terrified she couldn't find breath..

So, no, Y/N couldn't bring herself to face Kakashi. Maybe if she distanced herself little by little as the few months went on, it would be easier leaving. Leaving everyone behind. Kakashi, Gai, Kurenai, all the students she had grown to care about over the years. To spend her last days avoiding the people she would miss so dearly seemed like a waste of time and irrational, but it was the only thing that seemed reasonable in her confused mind.

“I can’t,” she replied softly, setting her mug down on the table to the other side of her bed. “How do you expect me to sleep?”

He shook his head in disapproval, his arms crossed over his chest as he leant back in his chair. He replied, “I don’t know. Just close your eyes and it’s bound to happen. You could at least try.” His suggestion was pretty useless, and he knew that. Hell, the amount of times he stayed awake when she begged him to sleep, he should have known he wasn’t going to get anywhere.

“And if I don’t want to?” 

He sighed, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, as he muttered, “What is your prince going to say when he sees you with black eye bags and cheeks sunken in?” He felt disgusted, hearing those words leave his mouth. Not only was she to be married to someone she barely knew, but she had to impress him. She had to change herself to fit his narrative of a woman, stereotypically beautiful, effortless yet hard working at the same time. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about that prince, and the ploy Tsunade had put up in the way of arranging them together.

Absolutely sickened.

She peered over at him and frowned. “Between you and me, I don’t give a fuck what that guy thinks,” she whispered, her eyes resting on the doorway to make sure no late night nurses were walking through. “I wish he would take one look at me and break the engagement himself.”

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.” His eyes now drawn on her, watching as she took another long sip of her tea, which he now suspected was spiked with something Gai had given her on his way out, something to numb the pain she was feeling. It burned her throat so good, and dulled her mind just enough to ease her. The Green Beast understood her desire to help the village, but he also sided with Kakashi in that she could change her mind at any point in time. 

Even Gai knew she wasn’t happy, everyone fucking knew.

“Oh, but I do, Kakashi. I don’t really have a choice at this point.”

“You do. Don’t let a spoiled prince take away your happiness,” he argued, his face turned just the slightest shade of red at his frustration. He wanted to wring this prince by the neck for what he had done, for the tough situation Y/N was put in. Either save the relationship between two nations or be selfish and do nothing. “Please, Y/N.”

A part of him liked to believe that his begging was simply to save his friend from a horrible fate, that he was just doing what a normal person would do and defend someone who seemed so helpless, only that wasn’t it. It was never that in the first place. He wouldn’t have been the one to fall apart in Tsunade’s office when she told him that the pair were engaged, screaming profanities at the Hokage who only looked up at him with pity in her eyes. And he certainly wouldn’t have run all the way across the village to her apartment and bang on the door until she opened. He wouldn’t have left her room that night with a tear about to fall from his eye, and vomit coming up in his throat. He wouldn’t have thrown up in the middle of the street that night. Not if he was simply protecting a friend.

He knew that the reason this hurt him so badly is because he loved her. He always knew there was something there, but there was never any reason to act on his feelings. They had all the time in the world it seemed, just the two of them soldiering on in this boring life. Telling her how he felt, how much he wanted her...that wouldn’t have changed a thing between them other than made things just that much more difficult.

Now, Kakashi found himself regretting everything. If only he had said something before, maybe she could have stayed here in the Leaf with him, and all her other friends who had become her family over these decades of struggling together. If only he had stepped up and been brave. He never faltered in the face of fear; why did it have to be the only time he did that screwed him over.

“Kakashi, I can’t go back on the engagement. It would cause us to lose one of our greatest allies,” she told him calmly, but her heart was once again beating too fast for comfort. She found herself falling into that downward spiral of hopelessness once again. She looked over at him with a quiver in her lip and tears bubbling up at her waterline, words softly leaving her mouth, so quiet he almost missed it. “I was fitted for a wedding gown two days ago. I-It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He asked me to pick what flowers I want at the ceremony.”

“Ah, I see.”

“All I wanted to say was wilted fucking roses, thorns and all. Weeds and empty branches.”

“Just run away if you have to, run for long enough that he forgets about you,” Kakashi suggested, a bit of plea in his voice for her to listen to anything, anything that would get her away from that man, this horrible fate. “You don’t need to do this. Tsunade can make it work.”

“Kakashi.” Y/N paused, biting her lip. Her head was beginning to buzz from the tea she was drinking, one in which Gai added more than a bit of sake to numb the pain. Something the nurses at this godforsaken hospital refused to give her. She gazed over at him with a glaze over her eyes, her cheeks draining of any last bit of color she had in them.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to marry him,” she confessed, that much was obvious. “I wish I was marrying you instead.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve never even looked at someone twice because of you. I’ve only ever wanted you, for fuck’s sake.” she bit out harshly, her voice raising with every word. Her eyes were trailed painfully on his own, glaring fire into him. "All these years, all these long, painful years, it's always been you, Hatake."

Just as he was about to say something in response, she had leaned over and pushed him away from her. He opened his mouth to get out a word, but nothing came out. Her angry shouts filled his ears, and he found himself falling. He stood from his chair and backed away from her bed.

“Just get out, Kakashi. It doesn’t matter how the fuck I feel anymore. I should have never said anything. At this point, I'm just tormenting myself. Just get out,” she hissed. “Get out, get out, get out.” Her shouts were painful to hear, but he understood. He wasn’t angry, unlike the girl with the overwhelming emotions bubbling out from the ears. His heart raced at her words, at the rushing emotions flowing through his veins.

He walked out the door without saying goodbye, just hearing her crying behind him while he pushed open the cracked door. As he shut the door behind him, he noticed a particular pink haired girl standing against the wall. She stared at him in shock, having heard the outbursts from the woman in the room who she was just about to check up on to make sure vitals were okay. She heard the confession, and she heard the subsequent backlash. She heard the parts about Y/N not wanting to marry the prince as well. 

It wasn’t exactly well known that she resented the engagement, but it was fairly obvious if you spent enough time with the kunoichi, which Sakura surely did being a medical nin.

“Sensei, are you okay?”

“Yes, Sakura, I’m fine,” he breathed, finding himself at a loss for words and lungs utterly useless.

Sakura grabbed onto his arm, peering up at him with just an ounce of determination in her eyes. “You need to convince Y/N-sensei to break the engagement.”

“I know.”

“Did you talk to Lady Tsunade.”

“She won’t listen to me.”

“Then I’ll try to talk to her too. She's not a cruel woman, but she is set on this engagement. She believes it will unite the two villages for hundreds of years. Y/N is one of our best and brightest after all.” Sakura told the man in the darkness of the hospital halls, her soft voice echoing on white walls. “I know it doesn’t seem like things will work out, and maybe Lady Tsunade won't listen. But you have to convince Y/N to stand up for herself."

He nodded, but it felt hopeless even pretending that things would change.

“You two were meant for each other. You can’t just give up on that now.”

And with that, he left down the hall, waving goodbye to his student. He didn’t know  how exactly he was going to do this, work out this mess in his favor, but it was worth a shot trying. If he didn’t, it would mean losing the love of his life. He couldn’t lose anyone else, not this time. 

Please, just not this time.

________________________

Despite being dressed in all white, Y/N felt anything but pure. She had been dolled up the entire morning by her friends and the young girls of the village. Ino, Hinata and her sister, and a handmaiden sent from the Land of the Frost to prepare her for her wedding that day. Her dress was embroidered with small snowflakes and wisps of silver and baby blue details. 

Already she felt as if she were being taken from her village and her heritage with all this decoration from the other land. Not to mention she would be married off somewhere foreign and cold, alone without the comfort of her family and friends here in the Leaf. The only people to be escorting her to the other village would be the handmaid, a couple guards from the Frost, and Kakashi.

Her final request was allowing him to come with her just for the wedding. And maybe it was cruel, to have him there as both their hopes for a happy ending dissolve, but she needed him. There was no way she would make it through the wedding without him standing to the side supporting her, even if the support was purely obligatory.

She never said anything to Tsunade, in fear of being rejected or patronized for changing her mind. Instead. She just waited for the fateful day.

Y/N stood at the gates,  arms crossed over her chest as she stared out into the woods, a white and silver carriage sitting before her with 3 horses standing tall ahead. This was the life waiting for her across the boundary, in the faraway land she would never recognize as home. It would be her last day in the village for a long time, at least until she was allowed to leave. Still, her life wouldn’t be the same ever again. She never dreamed of living in a world where she was forced to be a housewife, alone in a giant house without her companions, without the rush of the hunt on missions, without feeling the chakra flowing thickly through her veins.

She’d said her goodbyes. Cleared out her apartment, leaving the majority of her belongings behind with friends and family. She wouldn’t be needing it where she was going. 

“Kakashi?” she asked softly, peering over her shoulder at the man leaning against the gate, a book in his hand, the other tucked into his pocket. He wore nice clothing. Better than usual, at least. He wasn’t an honored guest, honestly, he wasn’t truly invited, she was just bringing him along upon her own stubbornness. He looked nice, dressed up like he cared today. 

He lifted his eyes and hummed in reply, obviously lost in his own thoughts as well.

“I feel like I should have stayed longer in the village, to say goodbye. Our friends...Gai and all our students, Iruka...I feel like I'm just abandoning them,” she told him. “I just don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye. I guess I just don’t know how to say goodbye, a real goodbye. I’ve never felt like this- like I need to put so much thought behind a farewell because honestly, I’ve never felt like it would be my last one.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have never intentionally left someone knowing that I’ll never see them again. It fucking sucks that I’m standing here knowing I’ll never see you guys again after this. I can’t accept it like that though. I keep thinking that after this is all over life will be back to normal, but it won’t.”

“I know. We should have tried harder to get you out of this mess. I could have said something-”

“It’s not your fault. I-I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place. I only agreed because I didn’t think I had a chance with you, so what would it matter leaving to be with someone else,” she blurted out, her truths coming out in heavy waves, “It would make me less lonely, I thought, even though it’s clearly done the opposite. I’ve never felt more impending loneliness than I do now.”

He sighed, shutting his book and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. It was like him to bring his romance novellas on a trip like this. She wanted to smile at his hobby, but her heart felt too heavy in her chest to even lift her lips. “I’ll see you again, Y/N. One day, I’ll get the chance to go back there and see you, as long as you let me in.”

“I don’t want it to just be one day,” she cried, throwing her arms down at her sides. She felt gross in these dreary robes, too decorated for her tastes altogether. “I want to see you everyday. I never want to go another day without you by my side. Jesus, this whole situation is just sick.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and furrowed his brow. “Keep quiet. You’re gonna make a scene, Y/N.”

“I just can’t be quiet about this. Don’t you understand how I’m feeling? Aren’t you going to miss me too?” The woman asked, feeling her hands begin to sweat as she clenched them over and over. She stared at him, right into his exposed eye, her breaths becoming shallower with every passing moment. Panic creeped up her neck so quickly, smothering her thoughts, rationale flying out the window.

“Of course I will, L/N. That’s a stupid question, and you know it. I’m just trying not to get caught fraternizing with a future queen, yeah?” he mumbled, his voice hushed. "Just calm down. You're getting pale." He wanted to reach down and run his hands along her arms, smooth over her shoulders for just a bit of comfort, but he refrained. He didn't want to touch her in front of wandering eyes, the eyes of any Frost people.

After scanning the area, she grabbed a hold of his wrist, her fingers firm with no intention of letting go. “We need to leave. You and me, we can get out of here.”

“What?” He could only ask, completely stunned at her suggestion. 

“Remember what you told me in the hospital. You told me to run away. We run away from here now, for as long as it takes for the prince to give up on me.” How scandalous, he thought. He couldn’t possibly just take the bride and run, could he? He hadn’t even pondered that route in his nightly daydreaming before bed, tossing and turning trying to think of a way to save his friend from the depths of whatever this prince had to offer. 

“Y/N, I meant just you. I-I can’t just go against Lady Tsunade like that-”

“Kakashi Hatake, you’re my best friend, but more importantly, I’m in love with you. If I’m not wrong, the feeling is mutual. If that doesn’t make you want to run away together then I call cowardice,” she said boldly, her eyes never once leaving his own. “Come on, we don’t have the time for this.”

This could ruin him, he knew that full well. But there was just something about this woman he couldn’t let slip from his grasp. His entire world fell into her hands. When he felt that inevitable tug on his arm, pulling him into the familiar woods before them, he found himself following without a single restraint. The only thing he felt was his heart racing in his chest, bursting with an adrenaline he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

They pushed through the forest for as long as she could run, tripping over branches and roots along the way, but never losing grip of each other. Her blood pulsed through her veins, and honestly, she had never felt more alive. Her entire life she found herself bowing down to those superior to her, listening to each word they say and meeting their every beck and call. She accepted a proposal she desperately wanted to decline solely to please the Hokage, one of the worst mistakes of all because she needed to obey. 

It felt so fucking good to break the rules, to be disobedient for once in her sorry life. 

Finally, after running for what seemed like miles, she finally slowed to a stop next to a particularly large tree. Her palms pressed against the rough bark, wood chips digging into her calloused hands. He slowed to a stop beside her and watched silently as she caught her breath, her chest rising and falling under the thick robes she wore. 

“These shoes sure as hell aren’t made for running,” she mumbled, looking down at the pathetic slippers they’d given her. “I think we are far enough away that we can sit and talk for a little bit.”

“Yeah, you wanna talk about how you committed treason.”

“You did, too. Don’t blame this all on me.”

“You were the one with all your “cowardice” and “love” crap. God, this entire thing feels like it’d come out of one of Master Jiraiya's novels.”

She took a seat on the ground, not caring if the dirt stained her robes. Why would she care? She was dead either way. If Tsunade ever laid eyes on her again, Y/N knew she’d be a goner. That woman would kill with no hesitation, she was convinced of it. Y/N’s eyes trailed back up to her the man, and she could only groan. “Listen I know there were definitely better ways of doing this, but I’m not the sharpest kunai in the box. I was just doing what my feral instincts were telling me to do. You were the one who just followed after me like a lost puppy.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing out, “What was I supposed to do? Think rationally? You’ve got my brain turned to mush half the damn time; what do you want from me?”

“Don’t worry, you’re literally Tsunade’s best ninja- She’ll let you back into the village.”

“You’re not that bad yourself-”

“Yeah, that’s why she tried to pawn me off to the Land of Frost to be a stay-at-home mom. Things aren’t lining up, Kakashi.”

He sighed, finally deciding to take a seat beside her against the tree trunk. He leant his head against the wood, his eyes peering up into the trees. Things had taken a wild turn, that’s for sure. He really did feel like he was in one of his romantic drama, the only thing missing was the R-rated content-Not that that was what he was thinking about, of course not…

 How the story would end, he didn’t really know. 

“Well, what’s done is done. Whether it was a bad decision or not.”

“I really didn’t think this through.”

“Nope.”

She turned to him, her eyebrows furrowed deeply, frustrated with this entire thing. “Kakashi, I did this because of you. Because of what we have going on between us. Did you want me to be married off to that pig of a prince?” she questioned.

“No.”

 She nodded at his answer and leaned back in her spot. Her arms worked their way to being crossed over her chest, and she couldn’t look him in the eyes at this point, her sight set on a particular mushroom a few yards away. Her words were curt, if not awkward, “Speaking of which, we need to discuss what we are or how we feel or whatever.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Not really. I mean, I’ve told you how I feel already, but um, you haven’t said a thing.”

“But you clearly know.”

She shook her head, a bit of heat rising up her cheeks and ears. “Doesn’t matter. I gotta hear you say it, for real.” 

Kakashi let his eyes wander over to the woman, who sat there like a child with her arms crossed and her eyes tucked away somewhere else. He almost wanted to laugh. She reminded him of a student at times with her bashfulness. It was definitely one of the many things he liked about her. “What? Do you want me to tell you I love you, or something?”

“Yes, that would be nice after all the trouble I’ve been through for you.”

He chuckled that time. Of course, all the trouble…”Y/N, I guess I love you. I guess I spent all these years ignoring my feelings, and it took this whole arranged marriage thing to make me realize I was missing out on a really good thing,” he confessed, voice softer than usual. “When you told me in the hospital, riding out your buzz from the spiked tea Gai gave you, that you wished you were marrying me instead, I just knew I had to have you. Truly though, I knew on our first meeting that I wanted you.”

“I was such a clumsy idiot back then. I think I’ve matured a lot since then, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, you’re still a clumsy idiot, just one with great ninjutsu.”

“Hey!”

"All I know is that I loved the feeling of falling in love with you. How good it made me feel. I was more worried about you than ever before, but every time you smiled and said hello, anything you did really, started to make my days better and better,” he continued, “This life has been cold and harsh to me, but you just swooped in and made it worth something.”

She felt her heart beat faster in her chest hearing that, a warmth growing in her stomach as she scooted closer to him, inch by inch. He clearly didn’t take notice or mind, so she pressed her side to his, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. She felt ridiculous in these heavy ginormous robes, too bulky to move properly. She dropped her head on his shoulder gently, and felt him relax into her touch.

“I love you so much it hurts. My hands are shaking because of all the love that’s overflowing,” she told him with a sheepish grin, holding up her hand so he could indeed see that her hand was vibrating. He clasped her hand in his own and lowered them to his lap. His thumb ran over her knuckles in soft strokes, and she melted into the gentle touch of the man she cared so deeply for. 

“I’m glad I ran away with you.”

“Me too.”

________________________________

It had been about 3 days before someone found them wandering in a nearby village. It was only a matter of time before they were found and brought back to the Leaf, anyway, so no surprise to them there. It was exciting having a few days without responsibilities, just living almost as if they were civilians in love. 

People in the village stared as the pair walked through the streets of the town, whispers being heard and looks shared. It was only a matter of time before everyone knew about the Copy-nin and his battered bride companion being escorted into Konoha.

Tsunade was in her office waiting for them to arrive. The door shut behind them, and Y/N wished someone was there to witness the Hokage murder them, only, the fatal blow never came. Instead, calm words reached their ears.

“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m really not.”

“Lady Tsunade, let me explain what happened-” Y/N started to say, but she was quickly interrupted.

“I really don’t need to hear the details of your 3 day sex-capade,” she dismissed, a look of disgust crossing her face. Y/N’s face morphed into that of pure horror, the thought of the Hokage and everyone in the village that knew they ran away assuming that’s what they’d been doing. It was humiliating, to say the least. She didn’t have time to process the fact before the Hokage spoke again, “I’m mad because you two essentially committed treason, but thankfully, the prince didn’t have any complaints. He apparently saw a psychic the day of the wedding who told him that his marriage was cursed for eternity, and was ready to call off the entire thing. Superstitious bastard.”

“So, the Land of the Frost and the Leaf are still allies?” Kakashi asked.

“Yes, fortunately," the Hokage stated simply. She lifted her eyes to the younger woman, and the exasperation was obvious in her appearance as well as tone. The girl in question nervously rubbed her forearm, embarrassed beyond belief. It was one thing getting screamed at, but it was another to be scolded like a child. "Y/N, if you wanted to break the arrangement, you should have just told me. I could have worked it out somehow. There was no need for all this drama.”

She bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She really should have said something before, but she was foolish. “I know, but I didn’t want to disappoint you," the woman mumbled awkwardly.

“Well, you did.” Ouch, so blunt.

“I know.”

She nodded, clearly having said what needed to be said. Her eyes dipped back down to her paperwork. The air wasn't nearly as heavy as when the pair first walked in, and Y/N finally felt air fill her lungs once again. Her nerves had really been for nothing, thankfully. 

“Very well, you two are dismissed. Don't go around pulling shit like this again, or I’ll see to it that you actually receive punishment.”

The doors shut behind them, and Y/N let a smile grow on her cheeks. She turned to the man at her side, her smile only growing that much more at the sight of his handsome face. “Things sure worked out for me. I didn’t get in trouble for my crimes, and I have a boyfriend now,” she gleamed.

He smirked, rolling his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky. You still have to deal with Gai.”

“I’m not prepared for the amount of hugs I am about to receive.”

“Neither am I.”

And as they heard those oh-so familiar, loud footsteps rushing up the stairs of the Hokage Tower, they knew they were in for it. 

"Kakashi! Y/N! I heard the joyous news of your return!"

Oh, boy.

[thepremedthatwrites]

May I request a smut/fluff where Peter and his wife finally sleep together! They have been married for 6 months and never did it since their marriage was arranged and Peter use to have many mistresses (before marriage). His wife and him barely speak but respect/love! Can it be when Peter is the High King of Narnia and where the wife asks him to sleep with her since she heard the court is talking about her because she still isn’t with child and Peter consoles her that he doesn’t care about that.

Get to Know You

I’m so sorry this took so long!  College just started so it took some time for me to get adjusted to the new schedule.  Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

warning: smut below the cut

I turned over to my side, watching the sleeping man next to me.  The soft moonlight that poured through the large windows gave the room enough light that I could just make out his features.  Even after six months, I would still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, confused as to where I was until I saw the mop of blond hair on the other pillow.  I wasn’t in Telmar anymore.  Instead, I was in Narnia and the golden band on my left hand reminded me why I was here - an arranged marriage.

I turned so my back was to Peter, not wanting him to wake up to the sight of me staring at him.  I had to admit, I was lucky to have been married off to such a handsome man.  I had heard horror stories of girls my age being married to men who could be their fathers.  I slowly climbed out of bed, not wanting to wake Peter.  I felt goosebumps start to rise from my skin as my body left the warm blankets and now only had the thin silk nightgown as a barrier from the cool night air.  I winced as the large door creaked open, stopping momentarily to glance at Peter who was still fast asleep, his soft snores barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat.

I slipped out of the door, careful to quietly close it behind me.  I wandered the halls, not entirely sure where I was heading.  My eyes wandered the ornately decorated halls, admiring the beauty of the castle.  I continued walking in silence, enjoying the seemingly empty castle which allowed me to think.  “Six months,” I heard a voice say.  I stopped in my tracks before pressing my body against the cool stone wall.  I was sure that if someone caught me wandering the castle alone at night, they would scold me for being so careless or even worse -  assume I was on my way to meet another man.

“The King and Queen of Archenland announced their pregnancy within three months of their marriage,” a second voice said, this one much deeper than the other.

“Do you think she’s infertile?” the first voice inquired.  They seemed to snarl the word infertile as if just the thought of it was repulsive.

“Perhaps they never consummated their marriage.”  The voices lowered for a moment and I strained to hear anything else they might say.  Was this truly what Narnians thought of me?  

“What good is she if she can’t even produce an heir to the throne?” I heard one of them say.  I wanted to scream, to turn the corner and confront whoever these people were.  But I couldn’t because I knew they were right.  My job was to give Peter an heir but how could I do that when we’ve never even had sex?  While I had been grateful that he never pushed to do anything in the bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel some guilt.  I quickly spun around and made my way back to my shared bedroom with Peter.

My vision had become blurred by the times I reached the mahogany double doors.  I blinked, releasing the first set of tears as I opened the door slowly.  I wiped away the set of tears only for them to immediately be replaced.  I wrapped myself in the blankets, the sound of Peter’s snoring the only thing able to be heard as I quietly cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to Peter’s arms around me.  He must have moved in his sleep as I didn’t remember falling asleep like that.  Although I was practically in the arms of a stranger, the feeling was comforting.  His body was pressed against my back, his scent finding its way to my nose.  His arms were tanned and strong due to hours of training underneath the sun.  I craned my neck to look behind me.  His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open.  When asleep, the features of his face were soft unlike how they were in his usual day-to-day affairs with diplomats and other monarchs.  When consciousness left Peter, you could still see a hint of the scared 13-year-old who arrived at Narnia all those years ago.  

I hesitantly moved my hand to his forearm, allowing my hand to rest gently on him.  It felt natural cuddling with him.  I felt Peter’s body move behind me, the arm that had been around me slowly leaving me.  I moved my hand from Peter, turning to face him.  “Sorry,” he murmured as he started to get up, the blankets falling from his upper body and collecting around his hips.

“For what?” I asked, slowly getting up as well.

“I didn’t mean for you to wake up like that.”

“In your arms?”  He nodded.

“It’s just I heard you crying last night and I guess that’s all I could think of to make you feel better,” he replied.  “I guess that was stupid of me.”

“No, it’s not,” I said quickly, embarrassment settling in as I realized he heard me crying.  We sat there in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

“Why were you crying?”  His voice was gentle as he asked, his blue eyes watching me, gauging my response.

“It’s nothing,” I replied.  “It’s stupid.”

“(Y/n),” Peter said, his voice stern and his body now fully facing me.  “We’re husband and wife now.  I know that these conditions probably weren’t what you pictured when you dreamed of your picture-perfect marriage but if we’re gonna make the best of what we have, then we have to communicate.”

“It’s just,” I started, feeling my throat get tight as I fought back the tears, “Last night, I overheard some people talking about how I’m not with child yet.  I can’t even do the one job that I have as your wife.”  

“Who said that?” Peter asked.  His voice was sharp and there was a fire behind his eyes.

“I don’t know.  I didn’t see them,” I said, turning away from him as I felt the beginning of my tears fall down my face.  I couldn’t let him see me like this.  

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer.  “Look at me.”  I slowly turned to Peter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his blue ones.  He reached towards me, wiping away my tears.  “I don’t care about whether you have a child or not.  What I care about is you.  I want you to be happy (y/n).”

“How can you care about me?  You barely even know me,” I mumbled, studying my hands.  

Peter sat quietly for a moment, lost in his thoughts before speaking again, “I have an idea.”

“A cottage in the middle of the woods?” I questioned as the carriage slowed to a stop.  Peter had cleared both of our schedules for the weekend before packing our things in a carriage and taking us into the middle of the woods.

“It used to be Mr. Tumnus’ house before he moved into the castle.”  We walked into the cozy cottage, one of the castle’s servants bringing in our stuff.  “He said we could use it for the weekend.”

“This is so cute!” I exclaimed, looking around.  There was a small kitchenette, a cozy fireplace with two armchairs, and pictures of the faun and his family decorating the place.  

“Would you like some tea?” Peter asked as he made his way to the kitchen.  

“Do you know how to heat up water?” I questioned causing Peter to scoff.

“I’m not completely helpless,” he replied as he searched for the necessary ingredients.  I settled into the armchair, looking around the room for any firewood.  To my surprise, there was a small pile of it in the corner despite the house being empty for years.  I got up before placing a few logs into the fireplace.  I grabbed the flint and steel that sat next to the firewood before starting the fire.  The room was filled with the crackling of the fire as Peter made his way over with two cups of tea.

The sun had set long ago, the fire now the only source of light in the cottage.  Peter sat in the armchair opposite of mine in silence, his body stiff, and his eyes glazed over in thought.  I chuckled.  “Is His Majesty having difficulty starting a conversation with his own wife?”  His face held a soft pink tint as he gave a sheepish smile.

“I’ve never really been on a date before.”  I raised my eyebrows.  Everyone knew that Peter was notorious for his mistresses before we were married.  Someone had once told me he had three girls in his room in one night.  “I never really had to talk to the girls I slept with before,” he added as if reading my mind.

“Well, you usually start with something easy.  Like how was your day?”

“Well I woke up next to this gorgeous girl,” Peter started, causing me to giggle.

“Peter!” I chastised.  “Try to be a little serious!”

“Alright, I woke up to my gorgeous wife,” he said causing me to roll my eyes.  “But you see, she was upset so I planned this getaway to make her feel better.  When I told Susan she freaked out, saying how I was supposed to be going to an important meeting tomorrow with the King of Archenland.  But I reminded her that Lune and I are already well acquainted and I was sure he wouldn’t mind talking to her or Edmund or Lucy.  Then I had to find people to help clean up the cottage so it would be ready for tonight and let me tell you, this place was a dump before.”  I nodded along, a smile on my face as I listened to Peter describe his day.  “How about you (y/n)?  How was your day?”

“Let’s see, I woke up in the arms of my husband but you already know all of that,” I started, pausing to think, “So after that, I went to the library where I saw Edmund.  I played chess with him for a while but it wasn’t long till he beat me.  He wanted to play again but I refused, accusing him of just wanting to play another round cause he knew he would beat me again.  So then I went to the horse stable where I saw Lucy sneaking some of the horses extra apples.  When I asked her why apparently she does this a lot so I obviously helped her by getting more apples and sugar cubes from the kitchen.”  Peter and I sat there in front of the fireplace for a few hours, talking about anything that came to mind.  Peter was in the middle of talking about a book he had just finished reading when I yawned.

“(Y/n), if I’m boring you, you can just tell me,” Peter chuckled, getting up.

“No, I’m fine.  Continue talking, I’m having such a great time hearing you talk about your nerd book.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”  He bent over, picking me up in his arms and causing me to yelp in surprise.

“Peter, I am totally capable of walking by myself,” I stated as he carried me bridal-style towards the bed.

“But this is so much more fun.”  His face held a mischievous smile as he turned to me.  I felt my heart start to race as I noticed just how close our faces were.  I moved my hand to his face, caressing his cheek as he laid me down on the bed.  His body was hovering over mine, our faces still only inches apart.  Peter and I hadn’t kissed since our wedding day.  And that kiss was so different from the kiss in the cottage.  On our wedding day, there hadn’t been any emotions.  The kiss had merely been our duty as royals.  

This kiss was overflowing with emotion.  It was a kiss where tongues danced together and teeth clashed.  Where hair was pulled and hands wandered the body.  Peter pulled away for a moment, both of us panting from the intensity of it all.  “We can stop now if you want,” he said softly.  

I shook my head.  “I want to do this Peter.”  It was all he needed as he expertly untied the knots of my dress before pulling it off of me, revealing myself to him.  He took a step back, his eyes wandering my body for a moment.  As I stood naked underneath his stare, I could help but start to cover myself.  He was sure to have had much more beautiful women in his bed before.  I was probably repulsive compared to them.  Peter took a step towards me, moving my hands away from my body.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, love,” he said in almost a growl.  The way he spoke those words caused butterflies in my stomach.  He slowly backed up before ripping off his shirt, revealing his upper half.  I subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes wandered his body.  I walked towards him as he pulled down his pants, his erection springing free.  I put out my hand before slowly wrapping my fingers around him.  I had only ever read of this stuff in erotica.  I could only hope that I knew what to do, the last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of my husband.

 Peter took a deep inhale as I started to slowly stroke him.  I looked up at him.  His head had fallen back and his eyes were now closed.  I knelt down so that my face was level with his cock.  I watched my hand travel from the base to the tip and back again.  Peter let out a low moan which encouraged me to go farther.  I let my tongue touch the tip, the salty taste dancing on my tastebuds.  I circled my tongue on his tip before starting to take more of him.  I opened my mouth as wide as I could, pushing my face closer to his base before feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat.

I pulled back, letting his cock fall from my mouth before grabbing it in my hand.  I looked up to see his piercing blue eyes looking down at me.  I licked my lips, diverting my eyes for a second to his cock.  I guided it back into my mouth.  As I started to bob my head up and down his cock, I kept my eyes locked on his.  “You’re doing so good,” he gasped as his tip hit the back of my throat again.  I pulled back slightly, allowing my tongue to run along his cock, gauging his reactions.  “Fuck,” he gasped as my tongue swirled around his tip.  “Get up (y/n),” he commanded.  His voice was stern and as I got up, I looked into his lidded eyes to see they were filled with lust and desire.

He pushed me onto the bed, kissing me passionately until I was left gasping for air.  He sucked and bit down my neck before stopping at my breasts.  He put one in his mouth, his tongue dancing around my nipple causing me to moan.  Without warning, he bit down on my nipple causing my back to arch at the sudden surge of pleasure.  He went on to do the same with the other breast before starting another trail of bites and kisses down my stomach and to my now wet and aching pussy.

I held my breath in anticipation as I felt his ragged breathing against me.  Just as I was about to tell him to stop teasing, he harshly licked my clit causing me to cry out in pleasure and my back to arch.  He began to suck on my clit, dragging his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves before swirling it around causing me to let out my moans freely.  “Peter!” I gasped as he entered a finger in my dripping entrance.  He added another before allowing them to go in deeper.  He curled his fingers causing them to hit my g-spot.  He continued to fuck me with his fingers while his tongue played with my clit.

“Peter,” I gasped.  “I gonna…”  Before I could finish my sentence, I let out a scream.  My eyes were forced closed as my thighs squeezed Peter’s head, my hips rising to meet him.  Peter gradually slowed down, leading me down from my high.  I cautiously opened my eyes to see his face hovering over mine.  

“You did so well, love,” he whispered into my ear before starting a trail of kisses from my ear to the front of my neck to my lips.  I kissed him back hungrily, tasting myself on him.  “Are you ready?” he asked as he pulled away.  My eyes lingered on his hardened cock which was already leaking with precum.  I nodded frantically, not trusting my words.  He chuckled darkly before lining himself with me.  I let out a gasp as he pushed into me, his cock stretching me out.  

My hands reached out, gripping onto his forearm as he started a slow pace.  “Fuck (y/n).  You fit me so well,” Peter praised as his pace started to quicken.  I let out a whimper as the pleasure started to spread throughout my body.  Peter leaned down, kissing me harshly.  My hands became entangled in his hair, tugging on his golden locks causing him to let out a groan.  The pace he was at was now merciless, the bed frame banging against the wall.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the new position allowing him to go deeper into me.  I was now a moaning mess underneath him.  A layer of sweat covered my body as the cottage was filled with our moans and the creak of the bed.  I felt the familiar feeling start to form.  “Peter,” I moaned.  “I’m so close.”

“Me too, love.”  He pulled away so that he was now upright.  He grabbed my leg and raised it so that it was now up vertically in the air.  

“Oh God,” I moaned as the new position somehow made it even more pleasurable, something I didn’t know was possible.  I wasn’t going to last much longer.  “Fuck Peter,” I moaned as my walls clenched around him.  My entire body shook as my orgasm rippled through me.

“(Y/n),” he moaned, falling forward as I felt something warm spurt inside of me.  I was still slightly shaking as Peter came down from his high.  He brushed away a (h/c) lock from my face before looking down at me with a smile.  He buried his face into the crook of my neck, littering the skin with kisses, before pulling out of me and rolling to my side.

“That was…” I started, not sure how to finish the sentence.  Words couldn’t even start to describe how I felt.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded.  I cuddled closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around me.  I was starting to fall asleep when I thought I heard Peter say something.  It might have just been a part of my dream that had started to manifest in my mind but I could have sworn I heard Peter say “I love you.”  

[thewickedkings]

Tell Me What You’re Thinking ~Part 2~

Part 1 || Masterlist

A/N: You asked for part two, and you shall receive. If you haven’t read part one, it’s linked above! This may or may not be more than two thousand words, but I couldn’t help myself. I really wanted to explore Jude and Cardan’s struggles and insecurities in their relationship post QON. Hope you guys like it :)))

Trigger Warnings: Mild Cursing (Let me know if there is anything I missed)

~~~

Jude wraps her hands around the warm tea Vivi made for her.

Vivi watches her expectantly. “So?”

Jude sighs. “Just… give me a second. I need to think.”

Vivi nods and moves to clear away the dishes drying next to the sink.

“Cardan and I got into a fight.”

Vivi snorts. “No shit.”

Jude massages her temples. “I know, but I think I really messed things up. God, I’m so stupid.”

Vivi doesn’t say anything, waiting Jude out.

“I- I just, I don’t know how to tell him things, things that are messing with my head, you know? And he could tell I was being distant, and I hurt him.” Jude squeezes her eyes shut.

“You aren’t the best at communication,” Vivi hedges. She looks up, eyes searching Jude’s face. “What couldn’t you tell him?” she says slowly.

Jude’s neck heats up, and she sips her tea to avoid the question.

But maybe if she can tell Vivi, it will be easier to tell Cardan. “The people, they’re talking about a-” Jude clears her throat. “An heir.”

Vivi’s face softens in understanding. “And what exactly about that is bothering you?”

Jude swallows. “I don’t even know if I want kids yet.” She pauses. “But if- if there were to be an heir, it would be half-mortal.”

Her skin feels tight, the fierce urge to flee and protect herself running through her at the confession. She forces herself to push through, staring intensely at her tea.

Her voice is rough. “It would destabilize the rule. You know how the fae are, they wouldn’t take the heir seriously with mortal blood running through his veins.”

Vivi finishes drying the dishes and pulls out the chair across from her. “Jude, you are their queen. If they have a problem with that, put them in their place.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. “That’s not the issue though, is it? At least not why you can’t talk to him about it.”

Jude takes a sip from her tea, studiously avoiding a response.

“Jude, if you don’t talk to anyone about it, you won’t be able to move forward.”

Jude’s hands clench around her mug. “I know.” Her voice lowers, barely a whisper. “What if he doesn’t want a half-mortal child?”

Vivi’s voice hardens. “Then screw him. But Jude, if there’s anything I’ve learned from seeing the way he is with you, that won’t matter to him.”

“You don’t know how he was, before. He always brought up how mortal, how weak I was. I know he’s changed, I know that, but I still-” Her voice breaks.

Vivi sighs. “Jude, this is something you have to talk to him about it. You can’t just keep avoiding it like you always do. Trust me, I know. You’ll just hurt both of yourselves.”

“How?” Jude rasps. “How do I tell him that?”

“Just like you did. I know it’s hard, but it will be better after you do.”

“But he was so angry. He couldn’t even look at me. What if he’s still mad?”

“He was mad because you weren’t talking to him. I can see how much he loves you, and you probably hurt him. You have to at least talk to him. You owe him that.”

Jude nods, shutting her eyes and letting out a soft breath. “Okay.” She gets up, her motions jerky. “I need to- I need to go. I need to tell him.”

Vivi puts an hand on Jude’s shoulder. “You need some rest. I know you feel like you should go, but you should get some rest before you figure this out.” Vivi gently tugs Jude into the living room and onto the couch. Jude is too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to protest. Vivi pulls a blanket over Jude, her hand resting on her shoulder for a beat longer than normal.

Before she’s pulled into the welcoming tendrils of sleep, Jude reaches her hand out, fingers grasping Vivi’s arm. “Thank you. For helping me.” She falls asleep before she hears Vivi’s response.

 ~~~

When Jude returns to the palace, something immediately feels off. The flowers outside the palace are wilted, and prickly vines have encased the walls. The air is taut with tension, and Jude hugs her cloak around her.

Instinctively, she knows Cardan will be in the throne room. But instead, she makes her way in the opposite direction to their chambers to wait for him. It seems fitting, to work through this where it started. She gets ready for bed and slips into the blankets, picking up a book to distract her thoughts as she waits.

When Cardan returns to their rooms, it is late. The telling glaze of alcohol is absent from his eyes, yet Jude gets the sense that he had drunk after she left. He pulls off his intricate doublet, leaving only the undershirt beneath, exhaustion marring his actions.

She resists the urge to wrap her arms around him and rest her head in the junction between his neck and shoulder, to relieve some of the burden she had placed on him. He gages her wearily, opting to sit on the armchair next to the fire. He remains silent, and Jude realizes he is waiting for her to speak.

Jude moves to the chair across him. “Cardan, I’m sorry.”

He barks out a laugh, sudden against the steady crackle of the fireplace. “For what?”

“You were right. I was being distant. I wasn’t telling you things.”

His jaw ticks. “I know I was right.”

He has every right to be angry at her. “I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to-” Jude shrugs helplessly, “I want to try to be better. I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I love you.”

Cardan swallows. His gaze is trained on the fire, shadows jumping across the smooth planes of his face. “You left.”

“I was scared.” She says, her voice small. “Sometimes it’s easier for me to go back to hiding.”

Cardan finally turns to look at her. The vulnerability, the openness in his eyes, even after everything she said to hurt him, rocks her. Despite everything, he is still trying with her. And she… well, she had run away at the first sign of trouble.

Jude reaches out hesitantly for his hand, and Cardan doesn’t pull away. She wraps her fingers around his, and Jude’s words stumble out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I lied. The break was a lie.”

Cardan sighs, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I want this to work, Jude. But you have to talk to me.”

“I know,” she says, voice small.

“I know what I want. What is it that you want?” Jude opens her mouth to respond, but Cardan continues. “I cannot… I cannot keep playing these games with you. If you do not want this, then tell me and leave me in my misery. Do not give me hope.”

He rises from his chair and gets on his knees in front of her, clutching her hands between his, his palms warm against hers. His eyes are gazing into her with determination. “You must know I want this future with you Jude. I want everything with you, everything I never thought I could have. You must know...” His voice changes then, something a little like yearning slipping in. “You must know that I want to spend my whole life with you, even have a family with you, if you’d want that.”

Jude flinches slightly, and Cardan catches it.

His gaze roves over her, assessing. “You do not want children?” he says slowly.

“No, that’s not what I… I don’t know Cardan.”

His jaw clenches. “You do not want children with me.”

“Cardan, that’s not what this is about.”

His voice softens, a tinge desperation sifting through. “Then tell me, Jude. What is it? Let me in.” In this moment, he is not the High King of Elfhame. He is her husband.

Jude tightens her grip on his hands and averts her gaze, unable to look Cardan in the eye as she lays herself bare. “The people- they are talking about an heir.” She feels completely and utterly foolish, yet she continues, forcing the words out. “And if we were to have an heir… it would be half mortal. If you do not want that, I understand. It would be smarter for the kingdom, and the people…” Her voice trails off.

Cardan’s hand reaches up to gently cup her cheek. “Jude, look at me.”

She grudgingly lets her gaze return to his, something inside her feeling scraped raw.

“I do not care that our child would have mortal blood. Mortal blood does not make you weaker. You are the strongest person I have ever known, and you are a mortal.” He pauses, his next words tentative. “I know… I know I have said things in the past, but Jude, believe me.” He presses a kiss to her knuckles. “If you wanted a child, with me, I would be the happiest man alive.”

Jude feels as though the weight of mountains has been lifted off her shoulders. Some irrational part of her thought that he would prefer to have children with one of the fae, all her old insecurities still lingering inside her despite everything.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

Cardan‘s next words are hesitant. “So that is what this was about?”

She nods, a little ashamed. “What did you think?”

His jaw clenches, and his eyes focus on the wall behind her. He removes his hands from hers and gets up, turning his back to her as he fidgets with papers on the desk. She waits, letting him gather his thoughts. His next words are quick, as though he forced them out. “I assumed you didn’t want me anymore.”

She opens her mouth to protest and then shuts it. It’s his turn to speak. She knows that no matter how irrational his thoughts may seem to her, they are there and it isn’t her place to dismiss them.

His speaks in a rasp. “I think I’ve been waiting for you to leave, because that is how it has always been with me. Why would you want to stay, when you can do so much better?”

Jude’s thoughts start piecing together what he’s saying. His mom, his dad, even Nicasia. They all left him eventually or didn’t even want him in the first place. Something inside her breaks knowing that she had done what everyone else in his life had. Yesterday, he had told her to leave before she could leave him, protecting himself in a way. And she had listened, like an idiot.

The way he gotten on his knees in front of her, telling her how much he wanted her, suddenly made sense. He was genuinely scared she was going to leave.

Jude moves towards Cardan and slowly wraps her arms around him, leaning forward so her head rests against his chest. He shudders and sags against her, his breath warm against her hair. His arms grip her like she’ll disappear if he lets go. The fierce urge to ward him from any evil overtakes her, to keep him here in her arms forever.

“Cardan,” she whispers, pulling back and pressing her forehead against his. “I’m not going to leave. I’m staying right here with you. You are better than anything, anything I could have hoped for.”

His dark eyes bore into hers, searching for the lie. When he finds none, his palms reach out to cup her face, and then he kisses her softly, so softly. She sighs and tangles her hands in his curls, kissing him deeper.

The connection between them, the string that has always been pulling them towards each other, strengthens until it’s almost tangible, an ethereal soft glow. The prickly vines that had grown around the edges of the room begin to soften, jasmines blooming on the stems, their soft scent wafting around them.

And Jude knows, in that moment, that what they have is irreplaceable, the love between them is more valuable than anything in her life. She cannot let him think he is undeserving, that she does not want him.

“You deserve to be loved, Cardan. You do. More than anyone. And- and- falling in love with you is the best thing that could ever happen to me.”

He smiles softly against her lips. “Your love is the greatest treasure I possess,” he murmurs. He pulls back and gazes at her, as if to commit this moment to memory. Slowly, his grin turns playful as his hand reaches for hers and pulls her with him as he walks backwards to the bed. “You are my greatest treasure. And I would very much like to cuddle with my treasure.”

She giggles, stumbling into his warm chest. “Treasure? That’s new.” The seriousness of the moment fades into this, this wonderful thing between them as he pulls her onto bed and into his arms and peppers her face with kisses.

He pulls back teasingly. “Is it not to your liking? I have several others.”

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to hear them.”

Cardan presses his lips to her jaw, whispering against her skin. “My sweet villain.” His lips move to her nose. “My darling wife.” To her cheek. “My love.” And finally, finally, to her lips.

Thank you for reading!! If you have sent me a prompt, I have them written, I just have to edit! Thank you so much for your patience <3

Tagging:

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woodsbeyond1 @st00pid231 @thefolkofthefic @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @afexiss  @herladyshipxx @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @fandomfanatic987 @judiecardan

Let me know if you’ve liked to be added to my general tfota tag list! (It’s separate from my Between the Two of Us tag list, just FYI)

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 9

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, fingering

Author’s Note: If you’ve been following me for a year or more, you guys know that I always upload something on my birthday so here you go! Here’s an extra long part 9 to make up for how short part 8 was and the Italics indicate a flashback! I hope you guys enjoy it!!

When you woke up the next morning, you were in a bed that was in a room that you didn’t recognize. You sat up, stretching your arms out as everything that happened the day before came rushing back to you. The last thing that you remembered though, was coming to Jimin’s apartment and falling asleep cuddled up to him.

Using the context clues, you figured that you were in Jimin’s room since you saw several photos of Jimin’s brother and niece around the room, as well as some of an older couple that you assumed to be his parents. Pulling the duvet off of your body, you climbed out of his bed and walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. You were able to hear the telltale sound of bacon cooking so you followed the sounds and smells into the kitchen, where Jimin was standing in front of the stove.

“Hey,” you spoke up, making Jimin jump in surprise as he looked over his shoulder. 

“Good morning,” he smiled as he recovered and you walked further into the kitchen in order to stand next to him. “Hungry?”

“Not really,” you shrugged, not feeling like you had much of an appetite. 

“Well, I’m making bacon and pancakes, in case you do decide that you’re hungry,” Jimin told you and you nodded. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, I did actually,” you replied. “That’s your room, right?”

“It is.”

“Where’d you sleep then?”

“On the couch,” Jimin replied as he grabbed a plastic spatula, flipping one of the pancakes that was in one of the pans on the stove. “This is only a one-bedroom apartment.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you scolded him lightly. “I’m the one who barged over here.”

“You didn’t barge over here, I invited you,” Jimin chuckled. “And you’re my guest so you automatically get the comfy place.”

“Well, thank you,” you smiled and before you could overthink it, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin for a few seconds before you pulled away. He looked over at you with a small smirk, before the sound of the bacon frying in it’s pan became overwhelming. 

“How about you go sit at the island over there while I get this food done,” Jimin suggested as he gestured to it with his free hand. “And then I’ll fix you a small plate.”

“I don’t know if I’ll eat it all,” you admitted.

“That’s ok, just eat whatever you can manage,” he told you and you nodded before turning around and walking over to the large island that divided the kitchen and the living room, taking a seat on one of the stools that was pushed against it. You set your elbows on top of the island and then placed your chin in your hands, watching silently as Jimin moved around the kitchen trying to finish breakfast. 

About 10 minutes later, he was done and he walked over to the island carrying two plates, setting one down in front of you before taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“This looks amazing,” you complimented, staring down at the plate that was covered with two pancakes, a few strips of bacon, and some strawberries as well. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jimin shrugged as he dug into his own plate, not wasting any time in eating his food. “I figured you could use it after everything that happened yesterday.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, cutting into your pancakes and taking a bite. “It still doesn’t feel like everything that happened yesterday, actually happened. You know?”

“I get it,” Jimin replied. “I had a lot of those days in the Navy.”

“And I’m just so...angry,” you added. 

“Do you think that maybe you’re ready to explain all of this to me?” Jimin wondered and you looked over at him, and he held his hands up in mock surrender. “You said later.”

“And it’s later,” you finished for him with a chuckle, setting down your fork and knife before turning the stool so that you were able to look at him head on. “Should I start from the beginning?”

“It’d help,” Jimin agreed as he took another bite of his pancake. 

“Ok so like I told you yesterday, Namjoon and Hyejin had dated for most of high school and the very beginning of college before Namjoon broke it off with her,” you said. “Namjoon and I met the next semester, in an intro political science class.”

“Did you two start dating soon after?” Jimin asked and you shook your head.

“Actually, me and Namjoon were just really close friends for the first few months of us knowing each other,” you told him. “He was still pretty butt hurt about the whole breakup with Hyejin and I wasn’t looking for a relationship because I was too focused on getting my degree. A few months into us being close though, my parents died in a car accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Y/N-ah,” Jimin sighed, reaching over and setting his hand on your knee. 

“It’s ok,” you assured him, setting your hand on top of his and you couldn’t help but to smile when he flipped his hand over and intertwined his fingers with yours. “After that, I was pretty much on my own since I’m an only child and don’t have any other immediate family so I just kind of..attached myself to Namjoon more. He didn’t mind though,” you chuckled as you thought back to your college days. “He may not seem like it, but he was a big softie back then and he’d almost faint if I did something as simple as hold his hand.”

“That’s cute,” Jimin laughed. 

“So we started dating officially and once we graduated college, Namjoon proposed to me and we got married,” you continued. “I managed to go to law school, pass the bar, and establish my law firm while Namjoon began his political career and things were good for the first three years of our marriage.”

“When did things start to change?” Jimin questioned.

“When he made the official announcement that he was going to be running for President,” you responded. “After that, he was gone more often, giving speeches and meeting people, so we barely saw each other. Things happened and our marriage just kind of started to....crumble, in terms of communication.”

“Is that when he cheated with Hwasa the first time?” Jimin guessed and you nodded.

“It was like a month before the election and I caught the two of them in our bed, just like I did yesterday,” you laughed ruefully. “Ironic right?”

“I was thinking more like disrespectful but whatever works,” Jimin shrugged.

“I tried to kick her ass but Namjoon wouldn’t let me get to her,” you huffed. “After that, I was ready to leave him. I had packed up all of my shit and I was ready to just....walk away.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Namjoon’s father, Kim Sang-hoon.”

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

You were in your and Namjoon’s old house, packing up the last of your belongings so that you could take it over to Momo’s house, which is where you had been staying ever since you’d caught your husband in bed with his ex-girlfriend.

As you were putting the last few of your knick knacks into a cardboard box, you heard the doorbell ring. You had hoped that it wasn’t Namjoon, who you had texted before coming back to the house and explicitly told him not to come back until you texted him that you were gone because you didn’t want to see him. However, you realized that Namjoon wouldn't ring the doorbell since he had a key. Leaving your box on the bed, you walked out of the bedroom and into the front hall, walking over to the door and pulling it open.

“Sang-hoon,” you said in surprise and Sang-hoon nodded his head to you.

“Hello Y/N-ah,” he smiled.

“Hi,” you bowed, greeting him properly before holding the door open. “Please come in.” Sang-hoon thanked you before stepping inside and you shut the door behind him. “Can I get you some tea or anything?”

“No thank you Y/N-ah,” he declined. “I actually came here to talk to you.”

“I have to admit, I’m not sure why,” you confessed.

“Namjoon told me about what happened,” Sang-hoon announced and you sighed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“And you’re here to try to get me to take him back?” You guessed.

“Ah, think of it more as a...proposition,” Sang-hoon replied and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Can we sit?”

“Sure,” you nodded, gesturing into the living room. The two of you walked into the living room, you sitting down on the couch while Sang-hoon sat down in one of the armchairs. 

“So, I know that you’re upset and hurting,” Sang-hoon started. 

“I’m pissed,” you clarified and Sang-hoon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

“And that’s completely understandable Y/N-ah,” he assured you. “But I have to ask you, have you thought about what a separation and potential divorce could do to Namjoon’s chances of winning the election?”

“I don’t care,” you chuckled in disbelief. “He cheated on me, and with Hyejin! Out of anyone, I would think that you’d understand. Being as though you were the reason why he broke up with her all those years ago.”

“Trust me, I don’t know why my son went back to that...woman when he has a perfectly suitable wife in you,” Sang-hoon agreed. “But, my son is also a man and he’s his father’s son.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that you’ve cheated on Mi-sook before?” You questioned, referring to Namjoon’s mother.

“Yes, and she knows about it,” Sang-hoon confirmed. “Because we have an agreement.”

“An agreement where you can cheat on your wife?” You shot back.

“It’s not cheating if the marriage is open,” Sang-hoon replied and you just looked at him. “Mi-sook’s and I’s marriage has been open, oh, since about a year after Namjoon was born.”

“That long?” You wondered in awe and Sang-hoon nodded.

“When you’re married to someone in politics, everything becomes a deal of some sorts,” Sang-hoon explained. 

“So you’re suggesting that I come up with a ‘deal’ that’s similar to the one that you have with Mi-sook?” You said.

“I figured that it’d be hard for you so I talked to Namjoon and we came up with some basic ground rules,” Sang-hoon told you and your eyes widened. “You can feel free to add your own as well.”

“Are you serious?” You demanded to know. “You really think that I want to stay with him after he’s broken our vows?”

“If you think about it Y/N-ah, it’s really in the best interest of you both.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“For Namjoon, obviously he wouldn’t have to go through the public embarrassment of a divorce and he’d win the election, which you and I both know he has in the bag otherwise. And as for you, you’ll get to continue living the life to which you have grown accustomed, while also being able to go out and have your own fun.”

“First of all, when Namjoon and I got married, I decided then that I didn’t want to have my own ‘fun’ anymore because I had found my soulmate, or so I thought,” you told him. “And secondly, I don’t need Namjoon’s money or the recognition that would come along with being First Lady. I had a very successful law practice before I gave it up for your son, if you remember correctly.”

“Look Y/N-ah, I just came here to urge you to think about it,” Sang-hoon said as he stood up from the armchair. 

“And what if I decide to say fuck you, fuck your son, and leave anyways?” You wondered out of pure curiosity. 

“Well, then we’d be force to spin everything to make it look like you were the unfaithful one,” Sang-hoon shrugged. “You know me Y/N-ah, and you know I could ruin your law career if you force my hand. That’s why I came here to talk to you but I can see that you still need a few days to get back into your proper mindset so I’ll see myself out. Have a good rest of your day.”

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

“So, it was Namjoon’s father who basically manipulated you into that ‘agreement’?” Jimin summed up and you nodded your head. 

“After he left, I thought about it and I realized that he was right. Sang-hoon is a decent person but he has some fishy ass associates and I knew that he could make it to where I wouldn’t be able to sustain myself if I opened my practice again,” you explained. “And besides, despite how angry I was at Namjoon, I still loved him and I didn’t want him to lose the election because of me. So I stayed.”

“What were the rules that Sang-hoon had told you about?” Jimin asked. 

“Oh, that Namjoon and I were both able to see other people, albeit discreetly, as much as we wanted. Condoms had to be used during any encounter, people that either of us are close to are off-limits, and we’d have to keep up the facade of being happily married for the entirety of Namjoon’s five-year term. I also added the stipulation that Namjoon wasn’t allowed to see or speak to Hyejin anymore too, but that was mostly me being a petty bitch who just wanted something to make me feel better.”

“And he broke that rule,” Jimin supplied.

“He did, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do about it,” you sighed. “I’ll admit, I clung to Namjoon once my parents died partly because I just didn’t want to be alone but now it feels like I’ve gotten myself stuck in a cage that I can’t get out of.”

“Come here,” Jimin said, pulling your hand and pulling you into his chest before he wrapped his arms around you. You allowed yourself to relax against him, wrapping your arms around him as well and allowing him to just hold you. 

“Baby bird,” Jimin spoke up suddenly a few minutes later and you pulled away from him just enough so that you could look at him.

“Huh?”

“You know how baby birds are always so eager to fly, even when they don’t know how yet?” Jimin explained and you nodded your head. “You’re like a baby bird who wants to fly away but you just aren’t sure how to yet.”

“That’s....such a good way of describing it,” you smiled softly. “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” Jimin said, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly. When he tried to pull away, you reached up and set one of your hands on his neck, pulling him back to you. He moaned against your lips, placing both of his hands on your cheeks as the two of you kissed for what felt like forever. When you finally pulled away, Jimin had this insanely wide grin on his face.

“How about you finish your breakfast and then we can do something fun?” Jimin suggested and you nodded your head.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, leaning forward to kiss him one last time before turning back to your pancakes.

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

“Don’t open your eyes.”

“You’re putting something slimy on my face and I don’t want it in my eyes so they’re definitely closed.”

“I’m telling Jung-hee that you called her face mask slimy,” Jimin threatened as he used a small plastic spatula to spread the homemade face mask onto your face. Jimin had come up with the bright idea of doing a face mask in order to help you decompress, and you couldn’t say that you completely hated the idea. So that’s why you were laid out on Jimin’s couch, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of his joggers, with Jimin kneeling on the floor next to you.

“Please don’t,” you begged. “I’m actually genuinely afraid of what would happen if I got on her bad side.”

“I won’t tell her, for the price of a kiss,” Jimin smirked and when you puckered your lips out, Jimin leaned over and pressed a quick peck to your lips. Once you felt him move onto to spreading the mask onto the bottom half of your face, you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

“Can I ask you something?” You wondered.

“Go for it.”

“Are you afraid of this?” You asked and you saw his eyebrow quirk upwards.

“Afraid of what?”

“This..attraction between us, I guess,” you shrugged lamely. 

“Not really. Well ok, I take that back,” he corrected himself as he looked down at you. “I am attracted to my boss’s wife, which is literally like the number one thing that I was told not to do when I accepted this job.”

“You were told not to fall for me?”

“I was told not to develop close personal relationships with you or Namjoon,” Jimin told you. “Being too close to someone that you’re protecting can make it hard to do your job effectively.”

“I’ve heard that before,” you nodded. 

“Are you afraid of it?” Jimin turned the question back on you.

“No,” you shook your head. “After everything that’s happened, I’m kind of over feeling bad because of Namjoon so I don’t really have any reservations about it.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re comfortable with the fact that you like me?” Jimin questioned.

“I am,” you smiled. “Are you comfortable with liking me?”

“More than comfortable,” he assured you and you just watched him as he finished up with your face mask. “Now, we have to let it set for 10 minutes and I have something that we could do while we wait.”

“What’s that?” You wondered. 

“Sit up for me,” he requested and you did so, sitting up and swinging your legs around so that you were sitting upright on the couch. Jimin then set his hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly as he kissed you firmly. You instantly responded, reaching up and looping your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Soon enough, his lips had moved away from your lips and down to your neck, sucking at the skin there.

“Oh, that feels good,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back in order to give him easier access. 

“Yeah?” He murmured huskily, and you almost felt yourself shiver from how much his voice had dropped. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed and Jimin licked a wide stripe up your neck. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked.

“You are,” you giggled.

“I know, but I meant more,” he said, moving his hands so that they were tracing the band of the joggers that you had on, and your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers on the skin of your stomach. “Like here, and lower.”

“It’s been a while,” you admitted sheepishly and Jimin pulled his face out of your neck in order to look at you.

“It’s ok. We don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” he promised. “But I would like to make you feel good.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I trust you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing you again. As the two of you made out, one of Jimin’s hands slipped underneath the band of your joggers, his fingertips pressing against the fabric of your panties.

“O-Oh,” you exhaled breathlessly as Jimin gently rubbed over your clothed clit. 

“Can I pull them aside?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded wordlessly, giving him permission. He did so, the both of you letting out simultaneous gasps when he touched your clit.

“Damn Y/N-ah,” Jimin grumbled deeply. “You’re so wet.”

“I told you, it’s been a while,” you sighed, enjoying the feeling of him rubbing your clit firmly.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbled, and it almost seemed as though he was talking to himself and not you. You felt his fingers leave your clit and trail downwards, lightly rubbing the length of your slit. You were working up the courage to ask him to put one inside of you when he took the initiative and just did it, sinking the tip of his middle finger inside of you. 

“Oh my God,” you hissed, making Jimin look up at you.

“This ok?” He checked in.

“More than ok,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Feels so good.”

“I’m glad baby,” he whispered and you didn’t miss the term of affection. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for the last two months.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyes fluttering closed as Jimin began to thrust his finger in and out of you. 

“Ever since the day that I met you in Namjoon’s office,” Jimin confirmed. “You had on that sexy green sweater dress that shows off your legs, and all I could do was imagine how good they’d look wrapped around me.” 

“Jimin,” you gasped, feeling yourself becoming wetter as he fingered you. “Another finger please.”

“Whatever you want,” he smirked, pausing the movements of his middle finger and pushing his pointer finger into you alongside it. You immediately clenched around the digits, and the desire to come became almost overwhelming.

“Give it to me,” you begged, opening your legs wider and hooking your ankles over Jimin’s lower back. “Fuck me Jimin.”

“Fuck, you have no idea how sexy you sound right now,” Jimin grumbled as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. 

“Oh, that’s so good,” you praised him, leaning forward and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth as he fucked you.

“You want me to make you come baby bird?” Jimin wondered and you nodded your head rapidly.

“Please, please.”

“Look down and watch me finger fuck you,” he instructed and you did as he said, looking down in between the two of you, where you could see the outline of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy. The sight only turned you on more, and you found yourself moaning louder and louder.

“Please Jimin, don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come all over my fingers baby,” he encouraged and with a few more thrusts of his fingers, that’s exactly what you did. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and he didn’t stop until you reached down and grabbed ahold of his wrist.

“Too much,” you chuckled weakly, making Jimin smile fondly at you. 

“Good girl,” he told as he pulled his fingers out of you and out of the joggers that you had on. As he brought his hand up, you were slightly embarrassed to see your juices on his fingers but nothing could have prepared you to watch him stick his fingers in his mouth and suck them clean. 

“Tastes amazing,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned playfully, reaching up and pushing his shoulder. “Give me a few minutes to recover and I’ll reciprocate.”

“You don’t have to do that Y/N-ah,” Jimin waved you off. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“You sure?” You asked.

“Definitely and besides, it’s been over 10 minutes and there’s no telling what Jung-hee put in this mask besides what’s on the label so we should get it rinsed off,” Jimin smiled. “And then you can shower again. I’ll give you more clothes and everything.”

“Thanks Jimin, for everything,” you told him.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing you one last time before standing up and helping you off of the couch to go rinse your mask off. 

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

Tag List:  @toddsgirl27 @leftieaquarius @joyfulkmusicfan @jennyjq @xcharlottemikaelsonx @pop228 @belatona @babebri144 @dragonqueen01 @paolaa9700 @yiarsan @sunshinein17 @daydreambrliever @lyralefayc @weirdestpersoninearth @peachesandcreamsthings @missseoulite @ramengrace @minyoongi-infiresme @0minabean0 @korkanswers @dchimminie @mysr3 @emily2404xx @leilaakk @vonvi-blog @btsxdoll @heartfeltscribblings @nooooooooona

[raindancer2004]

Blended Family

Word Count: 4,400 Demetri x OC - Part Two Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mention of sexual assault of OC.

Nico was a one-week-old when he said his first word “Daddy” Demetri froze for a moment not sure he heard right, his son was only a week old “Daddy” The soft voice repeated and Demetri looked down at his son and lifted him out of the crib and held him to his chest “That’s right little one, I’m your Daddy” He replied softly smiling and his son snuggled into him, his small hand holding onto Demetri’s top. Demetri had never thought about being dad once he was turned, but now that he has a son, he wouldn’t have it any other way ‘I may not have a mate to share eternity with but I’ll always have my son’ He smiled at the thought and made his way to his bed and got comfortable as his son began to fall asleep laying on his chest.

Demetri takes Nico to meet the Queens and they fall in love with him instantly “Oh my god he’s adorable” Sulpicia beamed as soon as Demetri entered the room with Nico. Athenodora took Nico from Demetri “Hello little one, you look just like your daddy” “Thank you” Nico replied, his cheeks turning a little pink “Aww and he has your manners” Sulpicia smiled at Demetri, who smiled back beaming with pride “You are going to bring such joy to us all little one” Athenodora added hugging him a little tighter and he snuggled into her “Nico likes a cuddle mi’ lady” Demetri says looking at Athenodora “I’ve noticed and that’s ok with me” She replied “Don’t hog the little one, sister” Sulpicia said holding her arms out to Athenodora, who handed Nico over to her and watched as he cuddled into her sister. Demetri watched as the Queens took Nico over to the sofa and take a seat knowing he wasn’t getting his son back anytime soon “Come take a seat Demetri” Athenodora offers pointing to the armchair beside the sofa “Thank you mi’ lady” He replies as he takes a seat getting comfortable, he was going to be there a while.

Nico surprised Demetri when he got up and walked at only four weeks old “Fascinating little thing aren’t you?” Demetri chuckled and his son chuckled too as his little arms reached up “Up please” Demetri smiled and lifted his son into his arms “I’m so proud of you son, talking and walking within a month” Nico nodded and smiled before yawning and snuggling into Demetri before falling asleep in his arms, something both of them enjoyed.

Demetri had taken Nico into the castle’s south facing garden and noticed that Nico’s hardened skin glowed faintly rather than sparkled in sunlight, therefore he would be able to blend in with humans more easily than vampires, something Demetri liked as it meant that Gianna could take his son out to the courtyard in front of the castle on sunny days when he couldn’t, although he would in the castle near the doors just in case, ensuring his son was safe.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Demetri decided to take his son to a nearby park as he wanted to get out of the castle for a bit and Nico likes the park; luckily for him it was an overcast day, so he didn’t have to worry about exposure. They were approaching the park when Demetri noticed two familiar scents ‘apple and cinnamon’ and ‘lemon and honey’ and before he knew what he was doing he was walking towards the scents; only to discover his son had beaten him to it and was standing by the bench looking at the baby in the dark-haired girl’s arms “Hello, I’m Nico. It’s nice to meet you” He introduced himself, smiling and looking at the two of them “I’m Sophie and this is Ellie. It’s nice to meet you too” “She’s really pretty” Nico said looking down at Ellie who cooed at him “Thank you Nico. Is your mommy around?” She asked softly, looking around “No, I don’t have a mommy. I’m here with my daddy” He replied turning and pointing at Demetri “Hello again Sophie” Demetri smiled as he approached them, recognising them from the plane “Hello Demetri. I’ve just met your son” She replied smiling “He’s very polite” “Thank you” He replied “Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked gesturing to the empty space beside her “Not at all” She replied “How have you been?” He asked “I’ve been ok thank you, still trying to settle into our new home. How have you been?” “I’ve been ok too, I er…I gained a son since I last saw you” He replied “I did wonder about Nico as I remember you saying you weren’t sure about holding babies and I took that to mean that you didn’t have children of your own” She said “It’s definitely a new thing but I wouldn’t change having him in my life for anything” He replied with a smile “How old is Ellie?” Nico asked “She’s four months tomorrow” Sophie replied and Demetri watched Nico’s reaction and chuckled as his son seemed intrigued by her “Would you like to hold her Nico?” Sophie asked “I’m not sure how to…I wouldn’t want to hurt her” He replied low not looking away from Ellie. Demetri lifted Nico onto the bench so he was sitting between him and Sophie “Just make sure you support her head and you’ll be fine” Demetri said and nodded at Sophie, who gently placed Ellie in Nico’s arms; Demetri wrapping his arm around his son to help support Ellie’s head “You’re so tiny” Nico said to Ellie and she cooed back at him as he smiled down at her.

About an hour later Sophie noticed it had gotten colder “I should get going, it’s getting a bit too cold for her” Sophie said nodding down at Ellie “We’ll walk you home” Demetri smiled “There’s no need” “I know but I want to and it’s the least I can do as my son ‘stole’ your daughter for the afternoon” He replied and Nico looked up at him and smiled “She’s so pretty daddy and I think she likes me” “I think she does too, she doesn’t usually smile that much at people she doesn’t know” Sophie answered. The four of them walked back to Sophie’s apartment and Demetri couldn’t help feeling uneasy at the thought of leaving them there…alone. “Sophie, may I use your bathroom please?” Nico asked politely “Of course you can. Come on in” She replied opening the door “Here let me” Demetri said and leaned down to get Ellie out of her pram “Thank you. Come on Nico I’ll show you where the bathroom is” Sophie said and Nico slipped his small hand inside Sophie’s and followed her. When she returned to the living room she saw Demetri sitting on the sofa with Ellie in his arms and he was singing the Greek lullaby to her softly “Daddy sings that to me at night too” Nico said as he came to stand by Sophie. Sophie smiled at the sight, Demetri looked up and smiled at her “She woke a little when I picked her up and I remembered this worked the last time I held her” He said softly not wanting to wake her “Like I said you’re a natural” Sophie smiled at him “I’m putting the kettle on would you like a tea or coffee?” “Coffee please” He answered with a smile, pleased she wanted him to stay a little longer “Would you like some juice Nico?” Nico nodded “Yes please Sophie.” Nico smiled when she handed him a small cup of juice “Thank you Sophie.” “Thank you” Demetri smiled at her too as he took his coffee from her “You’re both welcome” She replied.

Demetri and Nico arrived back the castle later that evening after having dinner at Sophie’s at her request “You’ve been at the park for quite some time” Felix said as he entered Demetri’s room “We met up with Daddy’s friend Sophie and her daughter Ellie” Nico answered before his Dad could, Felix smirked at his friend “When do I get to meet your ‘friend’?” “Not anytime soon” Demetri replied “What is she like?” Felix asked “She’s gorgeous Fe, inside and out, she’s funny, caring and seems to get on with Nico” Demetri replied “Ellie’s pretty and so tiny” Nico added smiling, Felix raised an eyebrow “It would seem Nico found a new friend too” “It’s not like that Fe, she’s four months old and if I get to claim Sophie as mine, Nico and Ellie will be raised as siblings.” “You have been at the park all this time…with Sophie?” Felix asked “No, after about an hour we left the park as it was getting too cold for Ellie; we walked them back to their place and went inside, had a drink and Sophie insisted cooking us dinner” Demetri answered “It was yummy Felix” Nico informed him “Really? What did you have?” “Sophie made lasagne with garlic bread, followed by chocolate brownies for dessert” Nico replied “Although I don’t think Daddy enjoyed it as much as Sophie and I” Nico added with a chuckle “I haven’t eaten human food in over 1000 years and the taste is not pleasant” Demetri said looking at Nico “I know, but you may want to work on your expressions a little Daddy or you’ll hurt Sophie’s feelings” Nico responded and Demetri nodded “That’s you told then” Felix chuckled ”Get bent” Demetri replied turning his back to his friend. “Come on Nico bath time” Nico ran into the bathroom and Demetri followed and begun running a bath with the Johnson’s baby bubble bath, Demetri likes how it smells so he continued to use it regularly. Once Demetri finished bathing Nico, he dressed him in clean pyjamas and they made their way to Demetri’s bed and got under the duvet, getting comfortable, before Demetri reads him a bedtime story. Soon enough Nico is sleeping peacefully, his breathing and heartbeat slowing down, the sound was quite relaxing to Demetri.

The following weekend Demetri and Nico met Sophie and Ellie in the park “Hello Sophie” Demetri smiled at her before looking down at a sleeping Ellie in her arms “Hello Demetri, Nico. It’s nice to see you both again” She replied “Likewise.” “Hello Sophie” Nico replied smiling at her, looking down at Ellie, Nico whispered “Hello Ellie.” Sophie looked at Nico and then Demetri and then back to Nico “He-he’s grown since last week” Sophie said low, but Demetri heard her and smiled, a little nervous “Don’t all children have a little growth spurt?” Demetri asked “Yes, but it seems a little more than that” She replied but didn’t push any further on the subject as Demetri and Nico sat beside her on the bench. Sophie handed Ellie to Nico and Demetri wrapped his arm around him to help support Ellie’s head again. Demetri and Sophie spoke about what their week was like since they last saw each other. Nico joined in the conversation too, telling Sophie that Auntie Jane had showed him her china doll collection and Uncle Alec had let him use his art stuff to paint a picture for daddy, whilst he was at work. Sophie and Demetri’s hands brushed and she noticed how cold it appeared “Are you cold Demetri?” She asked taking his hand in hers “Maybe a little” He replied and Sophie nodded rubbing her hands over his in an attempt to warm them up.

Demetri, Sophie and the children continued to meet up each weekend and Sophie continued to notice changes in Nico, especially that he seemed to be ‘aging’ rather quickly compared to other children his age. Demetri knew Sophie had noticed these changes in his son but she didn’t ask him about them, not after the first time. Sophie also noticed that Demetri was cold to the touch when they held hands and that he would accept the offer of a drink but never accepted the offer to eat anything when he was at her place. She felt drawn to him; she really liked him despite these little differences and hoped that he would tell her, if and when he wanted her to know.

Nico spent some time with Sulpicia and Athenodora whilst Demetri attended a trial in the throne room, although Nico didn’t know that, he just thought Demetri was on guard duty. “How have you been Nico since we last saw you?” Sulpicia asked “I’ve been ok thank you. Daddy and I went to the park a few weeks back and we met daddy’s friend Sophie and her daughter Ellie” Nico replied smiling, Athenodora and Sulpicia exchanged glances before probing gently for more information “Tell us more about Sophie and Ellie” Athenodora asked gently “Daddy met Sophie and Ellie on the plane a few months ago on his way back from the US and when Daddy took me to the park a few weeks ago we met them and have seen them every weekend since. Ellie is so tiny and so pretty” Nico answered still smiling “What is Sophie like?” Sulpicia asked “Sophie is pretty too; she has brown hair and green eyes just like Ellie. Sophie is a good cook, I really like her chocolate brownies and she makes a really nice lasagne too” He replied “She sounds lovely, I’m glad you and Daddy have made such a good friend outside the castle” Sulpicia responded with a smile “How have you both been since I last you?” Nico asked them “We’ve been ok, thank you. We have acquired some new books and art supplies” Athenodora replied and Nico nodded. Nico did some painting with Sulpicia, then had a cuddle with Athenodora whilst she read him a story.

Demetri arrived to collect his son later that afternoon to find him having a nap on Athenodora’s lap. “Thank you so much for looking after him, he’d been asking to see you both again” Demetri said with a smile “Our pleasure Demetri. We have heard all about your ‘friend’ Sophie and little Ellie” Sulpicia replied smiling and gave him a wink, if Demetri could blush, he would be. “Your secret is safe with us Demetri, do not worry about that. We’re just pleased you have finally found your one” Athenodora said as she handed Nico to him “Thank you. I plan to speak to the Kings tomorrow as I would like to tell Sophie about me, about our bond” He replied and the two Queens nodded and smiled in response.

Demetri got permission to tell Sophie about him, about vampires and their world as she became a little curious when she noticed how quickly Nico was changing. “Good afternoon masters, may I have a private word with you?” Demetri asked bowing his head “Of course my dear boy. Dismissed for now, we’ll call you back once we are done” Caius said waving his hand to dismiss the guards on duty. Once the guards had left Aro held out his hand to Demetri “May I?” Demetri nodded and placed his hand inside Aro’s. Aro saw the events of the past few weeks; Demetri and Nico going to the park and meeting Sophie and Ellie, the four of them going back to her place. The reoccurring visits to the park to see the two of them. Aro smiled and released Demetri’s hand “How can we help you?” Aro asked “I have met someone recently; her name is Sophie and she’s my mate” He replied and Marcus’ eyes lit up upon hearing this. “She’s noticed that Nico has aged a little quickly compared to his human counterparts over the past few weeks and I do not wish to lie to her. I would like permission to tell her about me, about our bond and about our world including that Nico is a hybrid” Demetri spoke to Aro; Marcus and Caius were on their thrones listening “You can tell Sophie about your bond, about Nico and about us but I would like to meet her Demetri and have Marcus confirm your bond. There is no rush per say but the sooner the better for all parties” Aro replied “Yes, I agree as we can’t help protect her if we don’t know who she is my dear boy” Marcus added and Demetri nodded “Of course. I will tell her the next time I see her and give her a little time to get used to everything and then I will bring them to the castle to meet you” He replied “Them?” Caius asked curiosity flashed through his eyes “Yes brother, them. I forgot to mention Sophie has a baby, a daughter. Demetri and Nico have met her and they all get along very well” Aro answered Caius’ question “The little girl is called Ellie and Nico absolutely adores her” Demetri told them with a smile. “Is there is a father in the picture?” Marcus asked “I am not entirely sure master. I think Sophie is a single parent like myself, although I haven’t asked about Ellie’s father and she hasn’t volunteered that information either. We haven’t discussed Nico’s mother either but I think she has guessed that she is no longer in the picture” Demetri responded “Please have that conversation too as we need to know if there will be any…complications regarding you and Sophie being together” Caius said sympathetically “I will master. Thank you” Demetri replied, bowed his head and left the throne room. He and Sophie had much to talk about the next time they saw one another.

That Saturday afternoon Demetri and Nico arrived at Sophie’s apartment after deciding it’s probably best to meet there rather than the park so other people wouldn’t notice how quickly Nico changes. Sophie had noticed the changes over the last few weeks and Demetri promised he’d explain everything during this visit. Sophie watched as Nico lay beside Ellie on the floor “This is a good story Ellie. The Prince kills the evil Fairy in order to save his Princess” He explained before reading her the story of ‘Sleeping Beauty’ “He’s really good with her” Sophie said quietly to Demetri “I know but it’s a little strange as he hasn’t been around other children; except when I took him to the park, but even then, he kept to himself. That is…until he met you and Ellie that day” He replied and she hummed in response smiling at Nico and Ellie. Once the children were bathed and put to bed Demetri and Sophie had two very important conversations, conversations that would change everything for those involved.

“Sophie I know you have noticed some differences between you and I” He begins and she nods waiting for him to continue “Well the reason I feel cold to the touch, have quick reflexes and do not really eat a lot when I’m with you is because…I’m a vampire.” She doesn’t say anything at first and he starts to worry “So-Sophie…are you ok?” She shakes her head to clear her thoughts “I-I’m fine. It’s just I…I always thought vampires only existed in books and movies” “That’s the point…humans aren’t allowed to know about us…” “Then why are you telling me?” She cut him off “I’m telling you because there things you need to know about me, about…us” She nods “Ok” “Firstly, I need you to know that you and Ellie are safe with me no matter what” He says looking into her eyes as he leans forward and takes her hands in his “I survive on a diet of blood…human blood but I have excellent self-control around humans as you have probably noticed” She nods again and he continues “I was born in Greece and was 21 when I was turned over 1000 years ago. I have lived with and worked for the Volturi, the Government / Royalty of the vampire world for about 1000 years and hold the position of ‘Elite Guard’ I am also the personal bodyguard to Marcus, one of the three Kings” “Wow! That’s a lot of information to take in” He could see the amazement in her eyes “There’s more you need to know now, the rest I can tell at a later time as to not overwhelm you” “O-ok. What else do I need to know now?” She asked and he took a deep unneeded breath “Vampires are very protective of what is theirs, possessive even. I would protect my son with my life if anyone ever tried to harm him…” “Sounds like us moms, we are also very protective of our children” He smiled at her response and nodded “We are also very protective of our mates, as we only get one in our lifetime. If we were to ever lose them, then we would be left heartbroken and over time fall into a deep depression…” He trailed off “Hence the protective / possessive nature of your kind” “Exactly Sophie. Once we meet our mate everything just…falls into place, we feel complete and are drawn to them in a way that is hard to put into words. Vampires fall in love quickly and once we do; we never fall out of love with our mate” He shifts a little closer to her and her breath catches in her throat “Sophie…you are my mate and I…” “What about Nico’s mom?” She cuts him off and he looks down for a second before looking back up at her “Nico wasn’t planned Sophie, but I love him and wouldn’t be without him. I need you to remember that…please” She nods and he tells her what happened after they got off the plane as it was the night his son was conceived and the events that followed and she could see the remorse in his eyes regarding the situation and lifted her hand and rested it against his cheek “It’s ok Demetri…I understand…more than you can imagine. He is a real credit to you, you should be proud” He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing “Thank you and I am very proud him. He also displays a good level of self-control around humans, more so since he has met you and Ellie” He smiles at her “I still cannot believe he is only eight weeks old” She chuckles “That’s his vampire side, he grows faster than his human counterparts, which means he’ll be fully grown in seven years and then won’t change after that” “Wow! So vampire parenting is a seven year deal?” She asks, surprise clearly shown on her face and he nods smiling at her “I have to wait sixteen years till Ellie is fully grown and she is about 10 weeks older than he is” “I know” He chuckled “In my defence we only found out about vampire / human hybrids about eighteen months ago when an old friend of mine’s son got his human wife pregnant on their honeymoon. After the stressful month I had had I didn’t even think about…precautions” She chuckled again “It’s ok Demetri. I’m not judging you if that is what you are worried about, I mean I’m not a virgin either. I have Ellie and although she was conceived under very different circumstances, I wouldn’t be without her” She said as her thumb gently caressed his cheek “Tell me…please. You have never mentioned her father and if he is in the picture…it may complicate things” He replied softly “Don’t worry he isn’t in the picture. It’s just me and her” She replied low.  

Sophie took a deep breath before explaining that she doesn’t know who Ellie’s father is as she was too busy squeezing her eyes shut and trying to not to think about the drunk young man who was forcing himself on her. It happened one evening after she left the college library a little later than usual and decided to take a shortcut home. Demetri felt himself get angry upon hearing that some drunk human had sexually assaulted his mate and he wasn’t around to save her “I’m so sorry Sophie…I-I should have been there to save you from that” He said as he removed her hand from his cheek, holding both of her hands in his “It’s ok…we didn’t know each other back then” She gently pulled her hands from his and looked down at her lap “I-I understand if this changes things…between us” She said low, tears building behind her eyes at the thought of losing him, as she had come to care for him “This changes nothing mi amore. You are my mate and the only woman I want in my arms forever. I am truly sorry I couldn’t protect you then but I promise you this…no one and I mean no one will ever hurt you again, not as long as I am around” He vowed and pulled her into his arms and held her as she sobbed “They-they never caught him you know…it-it’s why I left and moved here. I-I needed a new start and…I had always wanted to come to Italy” She said low, Demetri nodded “I can understand that. You didn’t feel safe there, but you are safe here…with me always” He soothed as he stroked her hair. She fell asleep in his arms on the sofa and he gently carried her to her room and placed her in bed covering her with the duvet, he placed a kiss to her hair “Goodnight mi amore.” He checked on Ellie who was sleeping soundly in her crib cuddling the little bunny toy Nico had given her a week before. Nico was asleep on the sofa bed in Ellie’s room and Demetri couldn’t help smiling at the sight of his children sleeping knowing they were safe from harm. He made his way back to Sophie’s room and climbed in beside her and gently pulled her into his arms. That night whilst she slept he had a look though her mind to try and find the tenor of the man who had harmed his Sophie, he finally found someone whose tenor was dark and fitted with what she had told him ‘he will pay for what he’s done’ he vowed silently to himself and he planned on asking Felix for his help for he knew his best friend would help hunt down and kill the man who had dared to harm what was his.

[the-tragic-hero-and-you]

Nothing but vermin.

I need to get my writing creativity back.

So here’s a little snipit of Darkiplier shaming you for sticking with the Actor~.

Not again.

Every time something seems to be going well or according to plan, he snatches you right out of reality and into his own, the ear numbing sound of white noise as your surroundings are warped and distant with each passing second before everything goes black.

It was that short moment of silence that left you the most anxious, waiting for him to appear, or have remnants of the past fade in from the darkness to remind you of who you were, how many were hurt from the actor’s actions. You still waited for the moment he reminded you of the bond you and his better half once had, that half you once called a good friend.

Damien would never do any of this to you.

But this man, this ‘thing’ wasn’t Damien. Not anymore.

You waited patiently in the darkness, already feeling the cold of your surroundings seep into your skin and crawl into your bones. You wrap your arms around yourself and try not to shiver, your blood running cold with each heat of your heart as you felt a demonic aura slowly come from behind you. You didn’t know whether or not to look over towards him, because no matter how you responded, he always seemed deeply disappointed.

At this point, you were tired of getting a positive reaction from him. He clearly read your reaction, hearing his footsteps faintly approaching you one casual step after another. You were unable to hold back your body from trembling as he speaks faintly into your ear.

“Hhh. . .Giving up on reasoning with me? How predictable.”

Every inch of your body tensed up as the demon on a man glitched with such instability. One hand trailing down your spine with a seductive caress, another gripping firmly at your neck with untamed rage. His touch was so cold it nearly burned your skin. You kept still as the various fragments of his being stabled and withdrew his hands from you, casually making his way to face you.

“All I wanted to do was see you again, and you give me the cold shoulder. You’re breaking my heart, truly~.”

The smirk that crawled on his lips was nearly taunting with his previous remark, a little white lie made to shame you for how withdrawn you had become towards a fragment of your old friend. Before you knew it you were sitting down in an armchair across from the demon who was sitting as well, a coffee table and two cups of ‘tea’ was the only thing between the two of you. He reached over and picked up his cup, musing the content inside that looks like thick ink. Almost the same kind of substance that dripped from the actor when he’s not ‘himself’.

You only looked at your cup from the table, but not dare pick it up. He noticed your lack of movement, refusing to interact with your environment of the drink he was providing. Slowly he took a sip from his cup, eyes still on you as he lowered his drink back down.

“You know I mean well having you here.” He spoke, breaking the ‘silence’ between the two of you. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, and I must say I truly do not like how close you have gotten towards him.” Saying this he twitched, a fain fragment of him screaming with his head buried in his hands as though in great pain and madness before being stable once more. “It’s almost as thought you’ve forgotten what he has done to you, to ‘US’. I can’t tell if you’re truly that forgetful, dense or if you have become so cruel as to consider him as a friend. Has he truly tricked you into thinking that you mean something to him? That there’s something special he sees in you? Acting was always his profession after all. I didn’t think you of all people would be so gullible to fall for his lies, my dear District Attorney.”

You continued not to say a word, keeping your arms wrapped around yourself for some form of warmth besides the freezing air and scorching touch. Your lack of response from him did not reflect well towards the demon, sneering with disgust as you looked away. 

“Look at how pathetic you’ve become.” He hissed, placing his cup of black gunk angrily on the table, causing the content to spill on the table saucer while glaring at you from head to toe, “A disgusting little rodent who would much rather have a serpent for company than an old friend!” Saying this, he gripped onto the edge of the coffee table, flipping it out of his way as he storms over towards you. You brace yourself for whatever assault he was about to inflict upon you, Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing how terrified you truly were. A gasp caught in your throat as he grabbed onto your hair, forcing your head to tilt back in an uncomfortable position. He glared deeply into your eyes, the mismatched color of blue and red burned with anger, the fragments of himself flickered and glitched as though unable to  sustain himself in this reality. His face was so close to your, you could feel the chill of his breath upon your lips as he spoke with such spite. “He took EVERYTHING! And you have a gaul to stay with him! It’s as if you justify what he had done! He did this to me! He tore us apart from what we almost had together, and you of all people should be the one who makes sure that I make him pay!”

You didn’t fight back. Not even holding onto his hands to get him to let go. No, you stayed in your seat, eyes not once leaving his as he vocally unleashed his frustration upon you. Your lack of resistance seemed to result in a positive response from him, something about your firm demeanor or cooperation eased his temperament. But only by a little.

“. . . You poor, little vermin.” He finally said, loosening his grip from your hair and trailed his hand along your cheek. You winced in pain from his touch, but didn’t lean away. “Do you know what snakes like him do to rats such like yourself?” He didn’t wait for a response as he leaned close, placing a frost bitten kiss against the corner of your lips. You swore you could taste the blackened substance at the tip of his tongue. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . “ He whispered, his words echoing in the void as you became light headed, hearing your surroundings creek and shift around you as everything started to fade into black.

Frantically you sit up in your bed, your heart pounding in your chest as though you were running for miles. You gripped onto your chest as you tried to calm yourself, steadying your breathing from the agonizing panic attack you had awakened to. Looking around your surroundings you were relieved to see that you were back in your room, everything in place, nothing tampered or messed with in any way. Lastly was the actor himself, still fast asleep and undisturbed from your sudden awakening. However the damage that the man had caused all caught up with you, his harsh words, his burning touches, abusive grasp, and lastly the taunting, cruel reminder of Damien’s kisses you missed so dearly.

Carefully you laid back down against the mattress, pulling the covers back over your trembling body and curled yourself up against the man who ruined everything. Instinctively he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest to where you could hear his steady heart beat. The frantic and painful pounding in your chest slowly subsided from this, nuzzling yourself against the actor as you steady your breathing, the tension in your body fading as you closed your eyes.

Darkiplier didn’t deserve an explanation as to why you prefered the actors company. And you certainly hoped that he was watching this little display as a ‘Fuck you’.

[mihidecet]

I see You

I’m back on my bs yall. This is meant to be a companion piece to this so if you’re in the mood for some pure and extremely shameless comfort maybe check it out?

I somehow ended up writing 3.8K of Manburg family dynamics, set in an alternate universe where none of the extremely messed us stuff of the canon happened. ((we could have had it all))

Once again do not take this as ship content!! Let’s normalize platonic cuddling and being close with your friends without it being sexual!! Pretty pretty please!!

Contrary to popular belief, Schlatt is not that dense when it comes to feelings. 

His ignorance of other people's emotions is a willing act of defiance. Defiance towards whom, you may find yourself asking?

… Anyway.

Schlatt does notice things. Stuff happening around him. And he does remember them.

He knows Tubbo takes his morning tea with two spoonfuls of honey, and a slice of bread with any marmalade on it except raspberry, which as it turns out he doesn't like. Schlatt stops providing raspberry marmalade, but it never really gets questioned. 

He knows Fundy will get scraped up while exploring during the day, and will always forget to bandage himself up properly, so he makes sure to mention it in passing to whoever is near him at the end of the day - just to know that people will check up on the kid. He doesn't need to go himself, Fundy would never allow him to take care of him directly, and he's not going to subject either of them to that situation. 

Most of all, he notices Quackity - with him being the Vice President, they're around each other a lot. 

Quackity is a bright light in the cabinet. 

While Tubbo is a warm late afternoon glow and Fundy is burning fire, Quackity is sunshine by the seaside on a midday spring day. 

Quackity likes coffee, but only if it's been drowned with sugar. He likes singing, humming tunes to himself as he works or while he cooks - he does it for everyone, whenever he has the time to, and he is one of the best cooks there are. He likes to debate, bringing up topics to talk about during slow times, engaging Tubbo into verbal spars. He makes sure that Fundy has eaten at least three times per day, and that he's gone to sleep at a decent time. 

He smiles to himself whenever he finishes a document. Ruffles Tubbo's hair. Touches Fundy's shoulder to stop him to ask him how he's doing. Taps Schlatt's shoulder to catch his attention.

Quackity is a very tactile person. 

Schlatt remembers him hugging people, throwing arms around shoulders, laughing out loud with tears at the corners of his eyes. 

So it's no wonder that a couple of months into their presidency, with work and paperwork occupying most of their days, Quackity is both overly stressed and constantly fidgeting.

It comes to a point when Schlatt catches him visibly reaching out to people and then backing away, awkward and embarrassed, mumbling excuses before making a joke of being lost in his mind due to work.

That cannot continue. It simply cannot. 

Schlatt finishes his paperwork an hour early that night, then he takes a swig from one of his already opened bottles for good luck and gets to work.

The trip from his study to Quackity's is almost too long - it gives him almost enough time to change his mind, almost enough time to chicken out and just plan something else, maybe unleash Tubbo on him. But before he can formulate the idea in his mind, he's standing in front of the oak door and his hand is already raised to knock. 

Too late to back down. A part of him reasons, despite the fact that it isn't. 

"Come in." Quackity's voice answers after he raps his knuckles against the wood. 

The room inside is dimly lit: the only source of light is a small table lamp that shines a beacon on Quackity’s documents as his pen flies on the paper sheet, the man’s slightly hunched back straightening when he notices him entering, a small tired smile appearing on his face. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his head tilting lightly to the side - then bending further, one hand coming up to rub at his neck with a slightly pained expression. Schlatt advances, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging while Quackity seemingly discovers more and more sore spots along his back. 

"I finished my paperwork, I figured I'd stop by."

"Oh, cool. -” he replies with one final satisfied grunt “- I'm almost done with this."

Schlatt nods absentmindedly, gesturing vaguely with a hand towards a nearby armchair: "You mind?" There’s a moment of confused silence as Quackity looks at him as if he’s grown a second set of horns, a mixture of surprise, amusement and incredulity overcoming his features, then he shakes his head and chuckles to himself. To be fair, any other night he’d have flung himself on his bed the instant his paperwork had been done. Still, Quackity recovers quickly, nodding towards him and swiftly resuming his work.

It’s hard not to fall asleep with the sound of his friend’s pen running over paper calming his nerves, the dimness surrounding them and the comfiness of the armchair under him. He remembers when Quackity had brought it in, slightly old looking and covered in a transparent sheet of plastic: he’d called it a lifetime occasion, found in a yard sale, and Schlatt had doubted its usefulness - after all, they had a couch in the livingroom and multiple chairs for each of their desks. 

And yet, there hasn’t yet been a day when the armchair wasn’t occupied by someone. When the days are cold, Tubbo can often be found curled up in it with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket safely tucked around his shoulders - by whom should be quite obvious. And sometimes, when the nights are too long and sleep avoids Fundy, he retreats there, silently, and turns the armchair so that he can keep a watchful eye over Quackity as he works - that is, until sleep finds him, comforted by the knowledge that they’re all safe and alive. 

There’s a small bookshelf next to the armchair, filled with tomes both bought, found and written - some in English, most in Spanish. Quackity is nothing but fond and proud of his collection, and while Schlatt’s not going to tell anyone, he has read plenty of poems from the books that looked the most used. He’s aware that his Spanish isn’t the best, but it helps with keeping his knowledge fresh. 

His eyes catch on a thin book that he doesn’t remember seeing before - its title along the spine is a mesh of letters, with way too many consonants, and definitely in a language he doesn’t know. Picking it up, he figures it will help with his task of not falling asleep as he waits, but alas, as on the spine, the whole book is filled with too many long words - is that a whole line of just one? Who made this up?

He starts flipping back to the incipit, in hope of at least finding the author’s name. When he reaches it, though, what catches his attention first isn’t the name itself - Goethe, ah, that’s it, German - but a hand-penned inscription just below. 

“Hey Da Dumbass, I heard you like poetry in foreign languages. Try and read this. Fundy.”

Thankfully, the sound of a satisfied grunt reaches his ears and unknots the tightness in his throat and distracts him from the warmth spreading in his chest.

Behind him, Quackity - he calls him dad - stretches his arms behind his back and sighs. 

"Alright, this one's done! -” he starts, smiling proudly to himself before shooting a somewhat guilty look towards the rest of the documents piled up on his desk “- You know, you don't have to wait for me, I figured since it's not so late I could get a bit of stuff done ahead of time-" Schlatt levels him with an unimpressed stare, then claps the book closed and places it back in its original place before standing up and making his way towards his still sitting friend. 

"Alright, that's it." Quackity looks visibly confused, even a bit worried, as he leans back into his chair, but Schlatt is a man on a mission: he won’t be swayed by it, this is supposed to be an intervention. He stops once he’s close, standing up right next to Quackity, and his friend looks nervously up at him, a high pitched self conscious chuckle escaping him. 

"Wh-what- what's up?" Schlatt gives him a quick look just to confirm his theory, but he knows him. And most importantly, he knows himself, he knows he can manage it. 

"You, in a moment-" He quips, bending down and quickly scooping the shorter man up, one arm under his legs while the other supports his back and then- 

"Wait, hold on- hold on I-” Quackity starts to protest, but by then Schlatt already has a secure hold on him, so up they go, followed by a yelp by Quackity himself as he is quite suddenly hoisted up into Schlatt’s arms, one hand reaching out and wrapping around the taller man’s shirt with a vice-like grip as he splutters, eyes wide as saucers.

“HOLY SHIT-! HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!" 

And to be completely fair, Schlatt is not one to back down from the chance to boast at this type of thing, so he simply shrugs and squeezes him closer with a self satisfied smirk: "I told you I lift, you dumbass."

"I- I- put me down." Quackity gapes, seemingly still wrapping his head around the sudden switch in situation; the way he leans into the hold is probably unconscious, but it does confirm his theory that his vice president, his closest friend, is in desperate need of being on the receiving end of some care and comfort. And he knows, deep inside himself, that he’s not the best candidate for the job, but if nobody’s going to do it then he is for sure going to. 

"I will in a moment. You need sleep." He replies, tone firm but not loud, reaching out with a hand to turn off the desk lamp - inwardly thanking the low light coming from the torches in the corridor for allowing him not to make a fool of himself by immediately tripping on his feet. 

"I- alright, but I can get to my room on my own!" Quackity protests, sounding flustered, and Schlatt has a moment of hesitation as the sudden fear of having overstepped a boundary hits him. Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Shit, fuck, he's screwed this, hasn't he? 

But as he pauses for a moment to look down at Quackity, to asses the situation, he realises that the man is actually clutching at him, and his head is resting under his chin - the soft fabric of the beanie pushing against his cheek the moment he bends his head to look down. Schlatt lets out a steadying breath: he can do this. 

"I know you can. I don't mind doing this, though." He states, firmly but not unlindly, voice softening, and he holds him close again - one armed as he reaches out to close the corridor's door. A huff of breath warms a spot over his chest. 

"I- you're such a fucking showoff, dude." He murmurs, accepting the situation with what sounds like a small smile on his face.

It takes him a minute, but soon he's opening the door of Quackity's bedroom. The shorter man, who had been slowly relaxing overtime, leaning more and more into his chest, startles as if waking up from sleeping and tenses up.

"Alright, now you can drop me off." He comments, but Schlatt is a bit more preoccupied with losing himself inside his own mind as he thinks about what to do next, so Quackity stays up - it's not like he's gonna wriggle around and risk falling on his ass on the ground. After a moment, he looks down at where Q's hand is clutching at his shirt, and at where his head is still pressed against his chest. A part of him is enjoying this too, and isn't really ready to let go, but still, this isn't about him. It's about what Quackity wants.

So he forces his anxieties down, swallows around the knot in his throat and tries. 

"What- what if I didn't yet, though." Quackity is silent for a moment after that, but his hand doesn't unclench, so he counts it as a good thing. 

"You're not making any sense, man." 

Schlatt is stood in the middle of the room, holding Quackity up, keeping him close, and he feels like he's balancing multiple instincts wanting to drag him in any direction - anywhere else other than here, right now, when stuff is so confusing and worrisome and he's constantly scared of scaring Quackity off with something weird. 

But yet again, he keeps it down, keeps it quiet. For his friend. 

"I've been seeing how stressed you are. Is this helping? Please be honest." If he had a free hand, he would be running it through his hair, a nervous habit he's been picking back up. Yet, his arms are starting to feel the strain of holding a body up, so he's not going to risk letting him fall to the ground. After what seems like an eternity, another sigh in the form of a warm puff of breath hits his chest as Quackity concedes. 

"... A bit …"

Good, he can't help but think. Communication is key in these situations. In all situations really, but he appreciates the fact that Q is opening up and letting him know he is alright with being held like this. Spurred on by this, he ponders his next words perhaps a bit too little. 

"Is it the caring or the touching?"

Quackity visibly flinches at the wordings, leaning back a little - pushing more strain on Schlatt's right arm - to stare at him with a sarcastic frown.

"Shit, man, you are such a wordsmith-"

Too quick, too many variables lost to the moment, and Schlatt is swept up in the frenzy of the situation - he has never, ever been good at smoothing out situations. 

"Will you just answer-"

"It's both! Geeze, are you happy now?!" Quackity's embarrassed outburst manages to at the same time shut him up and quieten the anxious voices in his head - so he was right, Quackity did like this, and he didn't mind it. Now if that wasn't a win in his book … he sighs, squeezing him close.

"Yeah, kinda. See, it wasn't hard. You little bitch." He comments, tone way too fond for him to be taken seriously ever again, but he figures he's allowed to be a bit soft - it's late, they're tired, and they're the only ones in the room.

Schlatt decides he's not going to subject himself to the mortifying ordeal of starting to lose strength in his arms - he has a reputation to uphold - so he quickly makes his way to the large bed, turns and sits down, inwardly relieved that he's managed to get this far. His nerves still haven't betrayed him. Yet. At least Quackity isn't launching himself on the other side of the room the moment he has a chance not to fall on the ground if he moves the wrong way. 

"What are you doing?" Quackity asks, sounding genuinely confused as he looks up at him with furrowed brows, so now it's Schlatt's turn to splutter indignantly, the arm under Q's legs sneaking up to wave confusedly in the air.

"I'm about to murder you is what I'm doing- what does it look like?! I'm trying to comfort you!"

A moment of silence follows, during which Schlatt stares awkwardly at Quackity's shocked face. Then Q's eyes soften and he starts chuckling, shaking his head for a moment before he lets it fall back down against his collarbone, sneaking an arm around his waist. 

"Feeling real fucking comforted, for sure." He comments, humour loud in his voice as he squirms around for a moment trying to find a comfortable position, quieting a moment later and letting out a small sigh.

"I am going to throw you into the river." Schlatt answers, bringing the hand that was holding his back up to the nape of his neck, fingers dipping under his beanie to lightly scratch at his scalp, pressing his friend's forehead against his neck.

When Quackity answers a moment later, his voice is but a murmur.

"I thought you were here to comfort me?"

"Shut up and be comforted, then, you dumbass." He huffs out, but there's a smile on his face despite the way he tries to seem angry. He is still way too soft to be taken seriously, and he'll be mad about it later, when Quackity will keep making coffee for the both of them, but then he'll lean into him while Schlatt's making eggs for Fundy, and he'll call him soft when he remembers to add the herbs the young fox hybrid picked himself; not to mention how he'll suddenly realise who had been bringing Tubbo back to his room after the kid had fallen asleep on the couch. 

But still, it's worth it, as he slowly grabs the hand that is still gripping his shirt, gently pressing against his fingers until he lets go; he places it back on Quackity's lap, rubbing what he hopes are comforting circles into his wrist - he knows how bad it can get when you spend all day writing, and knows his intuition payed off when his friend's shoulders relax even further.

To be quite honest, Quackity hadn't even realised his writing hand had been hurting. 

A joke threatens to rise in Q's throat, a way to diffuse the situation, a mechanism born from ages of repressing wholesomeness because that's the type of things that get you in trouble, because feelings get treated as a weakness, but he squashes it down, closing his eyes with a sigh as he lets himself enjoy the moment.

The warmth of a hug that is truly meant, the comforting weight of Schlatt's head against the top of his, the blissful peace that he associates with having his hair played with - It's been a while since he had the chance to do this, to feel this. 

He could fall asleep like this, he thinks, eyes closing on their own and body melting into the sensation, and he finds himself floating, suspended - but also grounded, tethered by the points of contact between their bodies. 

He feels- he feels like he did when Fundy tried to teach him German, him stumbling over the words while the other laughed with him; or like all the times Tubbo brought him outside in the garden, guiding him through the steps needed to take care of his beloved pets. 

He feels at home. 

And after a moment, he feels Schlatt relax too, his movements less precise, less rithmic, his shoulders sagging a bit as they lean more into each other instead of just Quackity against him - and doesn't that feel poignant, he thinks, but not pointing it out loud feels like a better choice. 

He feels before he hears the low timbre of Schlatt's voice, unusually quiet due to a mix of tiredness and the silent atmosphere surrounding them. 

"I'm gonna lie back. That alright with you?"

It takes a moment for Quackity to realise that he is asking for permission. He wants to nod, but that would jostle their heads. So he hums in what hopes is a notably affirmative way, and just to be sure his message is correctly interpreted, he turns his palm upward, fingers wrapping around the taller man's wrist, and squeezes.  

He feels a chuckle vibrate through the chest under his cheek; again, quiet, toned down, but this time it also feels like he's trying not to move too much - and that right there makes him want to never stop smiling, especially whenever Schlatt pretends he doesn't care. Because if there is one thing Quackity knows is that he cares so much, despite the fact that he still pretends he doesn't know how a doctor found their way to Fundy's room after he scraped his knee, the poor medic armed as if somebody had just lost an arm. 

Schlatt thinks he's so good at hiding his feelings, and then he stops buying a specific type of marmalade because Tubbo joked about it tasting funny. He is nothing but a dork, and this has just done nothing more than confirm his suspicions. 

The hand in his hair gently cups his head as Schlatt leans back until he's laying on the bed, and Quackity has to swallow back a knot in his throat at the pure, unaltered sweetness with which he is being treated - like he's fragile, but not in a bad, diminishing way: like you would treat a fancy ancient vase, or a masterpiece. 

Quackity squeezes his eyes, feeling himself get watery, and focuses on the fact that like this, he's not that comfortable anymore. There's no need for his legs to be both over his friend's body, so he shuffles back until he's more curled up against his side, half laying on his chest, head still tucked under his chin - by god how perfectly safe he feels with that soft pressure against his temple. 

Schlatt lets him wriggle around, the hand in his hair never moving, and once he stills his other one moves back to his own chest, where Quackity's hand rests against his heart, and his fingers gently wrap around his. 

"This alright?" Comes a murmur from above him and Quackity's fingers squeeze automatically in response, finding himself unable to verbalise an answer at first.

"Thank you." He breathes out a moment later, after he's able to reign in his emotions just enough for him to find his voice again.

"Don't- don't thank me." Comes Schlatt's instant response, the fingers in his hair halting for a moment as he pauses, seemingly deep in thought. When he speaks again, his tone is once again slow and hushed, and his fingers are once more rubbing slow circles against his scalp.  

"You can come to me for this. Anytime you want. I want you to know that you can count on me."

And oh, alright, Quackity thinks, eyes widening for a moment - he has to hurry and squeeze them shut before he starts tearing up, fighting against the way emotions squeeze at his chest; pure unadulterated joy at the knowledge that this is true, this is good and this is his. His small, dumb, weird family, made of mostly jagged pieces that somehow fit so well together. Quackity clutches at the fingers wrapped around his, squeezing maybe just a bit too tight, throat thick and feelings running, and then he simply nods into his friend's collarbone. 

Schlatt just squeezes back - and that's just how they are, two dumbass friends holding onto each other, doing their best.

Minutes later, he falls asleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his friend's chest and the gentle feeling of being held.

[morfinwen]

1 for Angela, 2 for Christopher, 3 for Reagan, 4 for Neal, 5 for Lanzo, 6 for Ash, 9 for Connie, 10 for Aidan, 11 for Q, 14 for Nate, 15 for Amanda, 19 for Niner, 20 for Elise, 23 for Julie, 25 for Jerome, 28 for Kayla, 29 for Hannah, 31 for Knife, 33 for Elarin, 37 for Meaghan, 38 for Leah, 40 for Avery, 47 for Ian, and 50 for Lauren, please!

Read more!

1. What is Angela's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting her sweater caught on a door handle?

If it’s minor enough, she’ll barely react at all. If it’s slightly more disruptive, she’ll still only react insofar as is necessary to handle it -- that is, clean up a spill, change her shirt, restack the fallen papers, etc.

Internally, Angie is rarely as calm as she acts. She puts thought into everything she does and always has an idea of where she’s going and what she’ll do next, so even a small inconvenience can throw her plans into disarray. But she learned from a very young age to control her emotional reactions: outbursts made kind people uncomfortable and gave unkind people knowledge of how to hurt her. So she keeps a very close eye on her emotional state at all times and has a list of tried-and-true methods to calm herself down: breathing exercises, a song to hum to soothe herself, little reminders to herself, an imaginary ‘happy place’ she pictures, etc.

Not that a minor inconvenience usually requires an extensive amount of calming down, of course. But enough little things can add up.

2. For Christopher, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, or other?

In the morning, coffee. Usually straight black, or with an ungodly amount of sugar. He always regrets adding the sugar, but sometimes he needs the rush.

In the evenings, tea. Green if it’s close to bedtime, but he always gets a wide variety and is regularly trying out different versions. He has preferences, but he doesn’t feel strongly enough about it to get boxes of specific types. He’ll usually add cream and honey to tea, unless it clashes with the tea’s flavor.

On winter nights, hot chocolate with marshmallows, and whipped cream on special occasions.

3. What does Reagan's safe space look like?

Her safe space is her bedroom, which is small but not cramped, somewhat messy but in a sort of organized fashion -- there might be a few dirty clothes on the floor and a mostly stable stack of clean ones on top of the dresser, but you can see the floor and aren’t likely to trip over anything. Apart from the bed and dresser, there’s a nightstand by the bed, with a lamp and a stack of graphic novels on it from the last time she couldn’t fall asleep for half the night, and an armchair in the corner with her guitar next to it. There’s a couple windows with curtains -- light, gauzy ones to let in the light, with thicker, darker ones she can pull closed to keep out city lights at night if she feels the need.

Usually after work Reagan watches TV or uses the computer in her living area, but if she’s spent too much time around people lately, she’ll go back to her bedroom and play guitar, or lay on the bed and listen to an audiobook, or read one of her graphic novels while she listens to music through headphones.

4. What does Neal consider to be an unforgivable action? Why?

Neal has a hard time with violence or cruelty towards children. If you do anything to hurt a child, or even just yell at them, he’s not going to be comfortable in your presence for a long time, even if you sincerely apologize.

5. Does Lanzo have any nicknames or pet names or other aliases?

Nicknames: Not at present. Honestly he’s not really a nickname kind of guy, though sometimes his names have been long or odd enough that he just accepted people would use a nickname because it’s easier.

Pet names: His third wife Évelyne called him “mon chéri”. His first two wives weren’t close enough to him to have pet names for him, at least not ones he cared for, and his fourth wife wasn’t a pet names kind of woman. Amanda probably isn’t, either.

Aliases: Lanzo has so many aliases. He’s got a notebook where he’s got them all written down -- vampires have excellent memories, but after a couple hundred years, it can be a bit tricky to hunt down the exact memory you want without some kind of nudge. Most of them are variations on family names, but a couple (like Lanzo, for example) are just ones he liked the sound of.

He’s used a few of them more than once. The only one he’ll never use again is Alexander.

6. What kind of books comfort Ash? What books help him heal after a hard day?

Ash has to be in the right mood for poetry. A bad mood is usually the right mood, at least with the right kind of poem (nature ones, mostly). There’s an old, thick hardcover he keeps in his bedside table that’s got a lot of poems he really likes the cadence of, and he’ll often read them aloud to himself before going to bed, almost like meditation.

9. What is Connie's trigger point? What makes him angry, sad, or makes him go off?

Angry: Bad science practices. Violence against others, especially women and children.

Sad: Poor familial relationships. Ostracization from one’s community.

10. What kind of jokes make Aidan laugh?

Aidan’s sense of humor is not sophisticated -- he’ll laugh at just about anything: slapstick, puns, black humor, dirty jokes, etc. Nothing hurtful, though.

11. Does Q enjoy pranks or hate them? Is he likely to fall for a prank?

Q does not like pranks, but he’s learned to tolerate them -- one of the costs of being close with his cousin. He can fall for the more subtle pranks, or ones that rely on knowledge outside of his wheelhouse, but he’s certainly not an easy mark.

He has found enjoyment occasionally in pranking other people. He’s got a latent mean streak that comes out if someone angers him badly enough or over a long enough period, or if he’s been forced to spend too much time with his aunt and uncle recently. So his pranks have usually been a form of revenge, less fun and jokey and more humiliating or painful (though not debilitating or permanent).

14. Is Nate a simple person to please or difficult?

Deceptively difficult. He doesn’t have a lot of interest in expensive or complicated things, but though he may be satisfied with cheaper and simpler, he still has high, exacting standards for those things.

For example, Nate will be much happier if you order a pizza for dinner than if you offer to take him to a five-star “experimental” restaurant, but he has very particular ideas about what is and is not acceptable on a pizza, and a detailed hierarchy of delivery pizza joints. It might almost be easier to go with the fancier options -- at least in that case, his expectations will be lower.

15. What is the first thing people notice about Amanda?

Her green eyes. She’s always been proud of them, since she’s the only one in her immediate family who ahs them, and likes to wear makeup that highlights them or makes them stand out.

19. What does Niner consider to be her lowest point?

As noted here, Niner and Marrow, another werecat, split off from the group they were with when they started a romantic relationship. They were together for about two years, during which time Marrow became increasingly controlling and abusive. After Niner finally reached her breaking point and got out, she spent several weeks effectively on the run, avoiding other people and civilization in general out of pure fear. She’s never been that desperate or scared in her life, and she never wants to feel that way again.

20. Does Elise have a comfort item?

Not anymore, though as a child she had a tiger plushie that she never went to bed without. Bandit the Tiger is still in her house in a box somewhere -- she set him aside after college, hoping to give him to one of her children someday.

23. What is Julie's favorite food and who cooks it best?

Chicken alfredo. Kayla cooks it the best.

Kayla cooks most things the best, especially in the Allwinter household.

25. What are some things Jerome finds difficult to do? Or say?

Jerome doesn’t find it difficult to trust, per se, but it takes him a while to do it, especially with regards to his family’s -- particularly Hannah’s -- safety. Similarly it can take him a long time to warm up to people he thinks he shouldn’t trust or like, even if they don’t do anything that even hints they shouldn’t be trusted.

28. If Kayla was in today's world, what social media platforms would she avoid? Or be prominent on?

She wouldn’t have much of a presence on any social media platform, really. She’d have a Facebook (or something similar), mostly to keep in touch with friends and family, share photos, and to be a part of groups for moms and local organizations and the like. She’d almost never update her status, though.

29. Is Hannah an organized person? Or more laissez-faire?

Hannah isn’t the neatest person, but she does like organization, after a fashion. She color-codes her schoolwork, practices her music in a particular order, eats her meals one food item at a time, etc.

31. Knife has been invited to a masquerade ball. What mask does she wear?

A fox mask, like this one.

33. How does Elarin act around people she doesn't know? Is she shy around strangers or dismissive of them?

Elarin is very, very careful how much of herself she lets show around people she’s unfamiliar with. That includes how much she’s guarding herself. Unless they’re unusually observant, they probably won’t even notice her treating her friends differently.

She’s not naturally a suspicious person, but she was never the most trusting, either, and she’s learned to be much more guarded. Several years post-war, she loosens up. A little.

37. Meaghan has been kidnapped. Who has kidnapped her and how does she escape?

If Meaghan has been kidnapped, it’s almost a guarantee that she’s allowed it to happen somehow. Either she hopes to talk to the person kidnapping her, or it’s part of a bigger plan.

Jedi have a lot of enemies, particularly in her era, though the list of ones that would kidnap her rather than try to kill her is probably considerably shorter.

She could certainly escape on her own if she wanted to, or she might wait for her friends and allies to come for her, depending on the situation.

38. How does Leah unwind after a long day?

A hot meal, around the campfire at one of ‘her’ settlements or at her house in Diamond City with Mac and their boys, followed by a long, hot bath. Then she’ll sit up for a couple hours listening to the radio, or sharing entertaining stories with friends.

After that, it doesn’t matter if she goes straight to bed or has to stay up and keep watch for a few hours. So long as she doesn’t have to get up and shoot something, she unwinds almost as much from watching the stars as she does from a good night’s sleep.

40. Avery's friend has just been mugged. What's her reaction?

It depends on the friend. Someone tries to mug most of her friends, there’s probably not much left for her to do except laugh at the idiot -- assuming they’re even still alive, of course.

If for some reason her friend couldn’t handle the mugger themselves, then Avery will take it upon herself to hunt the mugger down. Considering that this means the mugger targeted someone who couldn’t properly defend themselves, if Avery tracks them down, the consequences will be worse than if the friend had dealt with them on their own. The consequences of hurting one of Avery’s friends are very, very serious.

47. What is Ian's reaction when someone does something nice for him?

Big grin, attempt to hug the person (unless it’s very clear they won’t appreciate it), “Aw, thanks!”

If it’s a big enough gesture, you can actually make him speechless. It’s happened once or twice.

50. How does Lauren sleep at night? Is she a heavy or light sleeper? Does she dream or have nightmares? Does she find it easy to sleep or is she more a night owl?

Lauren rarely has trouble falling or staying asleep. She’s a fairly heavy sleeper, but sufficiently loud thunder or other disruptive noise can wake her. She dreams occasionally, more often when she’s stressed or sick, and has had a couple nightmares in her life, again when she was really stressed or sick. She’s not a night owl, but she’s not a morning person, either.

Thanks for asking!

[nearlymanaged]

9. James The Owl

It was one of those nights; the ones that mocked Sirius with the sounds of deep, steady breathing of his sleeping roommates. He had been lying in bed for hours, not a trace of sleep in his own tired eyes. Instead, he was left with bad memories that kept replaying over and over again in his head. He thought about how much had changed and wondered about how much was yet to come.

He’d always found it easy to give and receive affection - in spite of being deprived of both growing up - but on a night like this, his mind had wandered to a dark place, deep beneath his usual facade of careless charm and mischievous lovability. He wondered if he was truly capable of ever experiencing genuine love. He wondered if he deserved it, if he was too much of a Black for it.

But his train of thought came to a sudden halt, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat, when the gentle quiet of the night was shattered by a loud gasp. He sat up, fumbling with the red curtains of his bed, until he saw Remus propping himself up on his elbows.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius whispered.

“I-I hurt someone…” Moony panted, glancing around and blinking fiercely. “Is it full moon again?...”

Without thinking, Sirius pulled himself up and plopped down on the edge of Remus’ bed. This wasn’t the first night that had been interrupted by werewolf nightmares.

“We’ve still got a week left until the last full moon of this year, my love…” Sirius froze momentarily, realising what he’d just said and how effortlessly it had tumbled out of his mouth; Remus, however, didn’t seem to have noticed it. “It was just a dream.”

“It was…”

“Yes. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life,” Sirius murmured. 

“Bloody hell…” Remus’ breathing was frantic still, as if he’d been running. “It seemed so real…”

As Sirius squinted at him in the dark, he could just make out his horror-stricken face. “Are you alright? Do you want some tea or something? Hot cocoa?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to…” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I think I just need to take a little walk.”

“Where are you going to walk to?” Sirius couldn’t keep the note of mirth out of his voice.

“To er… Maybe just down to the common room, I suppose. I just need to stretch my legs…” And with that, Moony got up and quietly walked over to the door. Before it swung shut though, Sirius grabbed his wand and followed him out.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” He asked again, a little louder now since they were out of their sleeping friends’ earshot.

“No… Thanks, Sirius.” Remus started pacing around the old sofas and armchairs. “Sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep, you know. I won’t drop dead or anything.”

“Eh, sleep’s overrated anyway.” Sirius pointed his wand at the fireplace and mumbled Incendio.

“I feel so childish,” Remus breathed out after a few minutes filled with the cozy crackling of the flames; he’d stopped in front of the fireplace, his back turned on Sirius who was now sitting on a sofa. “Having night terrors…”

“Childish? Moony, you’re quite possibly the single bravest person I know.”

“Kind of you to humour me,” he turned around. “You know many sixth years who can’t fall asleep after a nightmare?”

“You know many sixth years who turn into a werewolf every month and yet somehow remain to be the loveliest people that anyone could ever hope to know in their lives?” 

Remus shuffled from one bare foot to another for a moment, his expression turning into an embarrassed smile that was threatening to melt Sirius’ heart into a puddle. Then, the black haired boy patted the seat beside him and Remus walked over and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, while Sirius pointed his wand at a stack of folded blankets in the corner of the room and summoned one.  

He watched Moony lie down on his side, resting his head on the opposite end of the sofa, then threw the blanket over him. They stayed like that for a while, quietly, without talking. Some ten minutes later, Sirius leaned over to take a look at Remus’ face.

“Are you asleep?” He breathed weakly.

“No, it’s too quiet,” Remus answered without opening his eyes.

“I can read for you.” Sirius summoned a copy of Witch Weekly that someone had left in the common room. 

“You never told me you can read, Sirius!” Remus mumbled.

“Oh yes, I know all the letters. You see, I had to learn them since my parents wouldn’t read The Tales of Beedle the Bard to me.”

There was a pause filled with stifled laughter. “You just had to go there…”

“I had to,” Sirius smiled down at Remus, then opened the magazine. “Here we go: ‘How to Bewitch that special Wizard this Yuletide’!”

“Oh dear…”

“Yule Season is a mystical time of the year, blah blah blah… Hm… Okay... Offer him a mince pie with Amortentia (or a cheaper alternative) infused filling or slip a couple of drops in his egg-nog if--”

“Are you serious?” Remus sat up to peek at the magazine.

“Yes. And you’re Remus,” Sirius answered, unable to stop himself, causing the other boy to smile involuntarily and shake his head.

“That should be illegal.”

“Okay, let’s move on. Ah! Those of you who have older living relatives, ask your grandmother or your great auntie to teach you some fun, old-fashioned tricks. Once having reached an unprecedented peak of popularity in the 1900s, the Entrancing Enchantments are making a comeback. Just don’t forget to make sure the spell doesn’t wear off halfway through your date--”

“Unbelievable!”

“Alright, this is clearly not working. If only I had a copy of A History of Magic…” Sirius threw the magazine onto an armchair. “Or something you couldn’t argue with…”

“Oh, I could easily argue with A History of Magic. Don’t even get me started on The Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637!”

“Right. I forget how much of a huge swot you are… How about I...talk about something in French, so you actually can’t argue with it?”

Silence followed the suggestion as Remus stared at him with a kind of bemusement etched in his face. Sirius felt the strongest urge to either look away from Moony’s impossibly green eyes or to kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I mean, I don’t have to…”

“No, no, that sounds nice. I forget you speak French…” Remus looked away and lied down on his side again; this time, the top of his head was no more than a couple of inches away from Sirius’ thigh, his hair brushing against it.

“D’accord, très bien. De quoi devrais-je parler?” He gazed down at the side of Moony’s face. “Je ne pense pas du tout que tu es enfantin. Je pense que tu es très fort. Je sais que ça doit être dur, je sais que ça fait mal ... Je t'ai vu passer par la transformation plusieurs fois, et ça me fait aussi mal. Mais tu voilà, si fort et si beau... J'aimerais avoir le cran de le dire en anglais. Je suis tellement attiré par toi. Pourquoi tu ne vois pas ça? Je veux vraiment t'embrasser. Merde...tu entends mon cœur battre? Il vaut peut-être mieux ne pas t'embrasser. Je pense que mon cœur pourrait exploser...”

As it turned out, Sirius found it really easy to come up with things to say. He thought he could have spent the whole night telling Remus things in French that he wished he could have said in English. But he fell silent eventually, when Remus’ breathing slowed and deepened. Sirius got himself another blanket, put his feet up on a red velvet pouffe, and slowly dozed off too; thinking about how glad he was that he could be there for Remus, how nice it was to love. 

* * *

“Prongs, can you do me a favour?”

“Always.”

“Can you ask Remus if he likes me?”

“Of course. I doubt he’ll tell me though.”

“How so?”

“He won’t think I’m serious.” There was a pause, the two boys staring squarely at each other. “No pun intended.”

“None taken.” At this, they both burst out laughing.

“You know, you’d think you’d be able to figure this out on your own, seeing as he practically slept in your lap last night.”

“If only…”

“Alright. I’ll try my best, but know this - I don’t like this. I still think, if you’re going to pine and moan about it that much, you need to talk to him yourself.”

“Yes…” Sirius screwed up his face in mock gravitas. “Perhaps I should start yelling ‘go out with me’ at him all throughout the day, in the most random places all around the castle?”

“How dare you!”

It took James a few days to find the right moment to bring it up. With the approaching full moon and end of term, there always seemed to be a hundred little things to do and to worry about. He finally found himself alone with Remus after their Herbology lesson; the boy stayed back to finish pruning his Venomous Tentacula after everyone had gathered their things and left. James hung around to wait for his friend, thinking that he was unlikely to get a better opportunity to have a go at it in the next few weeks. But his luck didn’t end there - just as he was racking his brain, trying to think of what the best way to start the conversation was, Remus opened his mouth.

“Are you still hung up on Evans?”

“Ehm… S’pose you could say that. Why? Did she say anything?” He momentarily forgot that he was on a mission, excitement kindling in his stomach.

“Not to me. I don’t know, I was just wondering. 

“Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Do you fancy...anyone?” James was pacing around, mindlessly running his fingers over leaves of plants and dusty pots.

“Well that is neither here, nor there.”

“So it’s a ‘yes’?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So a ‘no’?” James stopped and smirked at his friend; he was obviously evading the question.

“You really should stop pushing the cotton bud in when you feel resistance, James,” Remus drawled, finally finishing up with the plant and sweeping all the bits of leaves and dirt off the table.

“You have shared your biggest secret with me and you said it yourself - you told me that never for a single second did you ever feel like I started looking at you differently. So why are you so embarassed to tell me who you fancy, mate?”

“A-ha. Trick question,” Remus tapped the side of his nose, carrying a terracotta pot in his other hand. “I never said I fancy anyone at all.”

“So you don’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s my biggest secret?”

“Fine. What if I told you that I know that someone fancies you?”

“I would gasp dramatically and wait for the punchline.”

“How do people think I’m an insufferable smartass?” James frowned, pouting a little.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to ask stupid questions?”

“Nah, I’m free until after lunch,” James pulled his mouth in a smug smirk. 

“Perfect. It’s almost lunchtime,” Remus grabbed his bag and walked past James, tapping him on the back with a big grin. “You coming?” He glanced around at the door leading out of the greenhouse.

When James came back to the Gryffindor tower after the Quidditch practice that evening, he beckoned Sirius on his way up the stairs to their dormitory. This was the first time they could get some privacy since James had spoken to Remus, and he was eager to put a stop to Sirius unrelenting questioning as soon as possible.

“You can stop pestering me. I asked him.”

“And?” Sirius leaned towards him, his whole body eager with anticipation.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” James shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

“What do you mean? What did he say?”

“Not much at all, now that I think about it… I reckon he might be hiding something though. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”

Sirius fell backwards onto his bead, draping his wrist over his forehead and sighing dramatically. “I wonder if Evans knows something. He’s always whispering and giggling with her. Although, on second thought, I haven’t seen them together in a little bit… Hm.”

“You don’t think…” James spoke quietly now, a faint frown distorting his face. “You don’t think he likes Lily?”

“Well shit. I hope not. Ah, you’re jealous!” Sirius sat up, goggling at James gleefully once he noticed his friend’s sour expression.

“No, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should try going out with someone else. Maybe she’d even find it in herself to feel jealous then?”

“But I don’t want to go out with anyone else! I like Lily!” James explained a tad too shrilly than he meant to and Sirius wasted no time in mimicking him and making himself chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at your misery…” He wiped his eye with a single finger. “It’s just that desperation looks hilarious on you--”

“Fuck you, Pads,” James mumbled as a mischievious smile returned to his face. “Do you think Moony likes me? Do you think he’ll want to get married? Do you think he’ll notice if I steal his clothes and sniff them at night?” Now it was his turn to tease his friend with accompanying gestures of clutching his face and fanning himself.

“It was one time! I put his T-shirt on once, by accident!” Sirius bellowed pointing a comically threatening finger at James. “I’ve seen you pick up single red hairs off furniture and rugs in the common room!”

At this, James gasped dramatically and pulled his wand out. “Don’t you dare drag sweet, beautiful Lily into this!”

“Or what, Potter?” Sirius drew his own wand out of the pocket of his jeans and flashed a devilish grin. 

“Levicorpus!” James yelled at the same time as the dormitory door flung open and Remus walked in.

Everyone froze - James, with his wand held high, pointing at Sirius who now hung upside down, letting his arms dangle and his shirt bunch up around his shoulders and neck, and Remus, still in the doorway, eyeing his friends with palpable curiosity mixed with relish. The latter then became animated again, looking down at Sirius’ face as he strode over to his bedside table to grab a bottle of ink.

“Sirius, if I were you, I’d use this distraction to your advantage,” he uttered on his way out and before James could do anything, he felt himself being dragged through the air and turned upside down, his ankles held by invisible forces; both him and Sirius howling with laughter. 

* * *

Remus was ready to dart out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, but the moment he stood up, he realised both of his shoelaces had gotten untied. He bent over, mumbling to himself in mild confusion. A moment later he stood back up to find the room empty, but for the teacher. He was pleased to see that Lily wasn’t lingering around, trying to talk to him this time, but his vague smile faded when he walked out into the hallway - there she was, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” he blurted and kept walking.

“What’s the matter with you?”

He didn’t bother offering a better answer than a small shrug of his shoulders. However, before he reached the end of the empty corridor, his legs zipped together out of the blue, making him topple over and hit his shoulder against the wall.

“Ouch!”

“If you won’t talk to me voluntarily then you leave me no choice.” Lily walked up to him, her wand still clutched in her hand. 

Remus couldn’t help but be impressed with her for a brief moment, for she always seemed so sweet and innocent and absolutely not the type to jinx people in the hallways. Then he scowled at her. “Leg Locking Spell? Very mature.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Lily demanded, folding her arms over her chest.  

“I haven’t.”

“Do I really look that stupid?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I thought we were friends? Did I do anything to you?”

“Hm, let me think…” Remus finally managed to regain his balance and push himself off the wall. He rapped his fingers against his chin in mock contemplation, but in all honesty, he didn’t know how to express his frustration without sounding over-dramatic and desperate. “If we’re friends, then how come you told Price to go chat Sirius up?”

Whatever the sensible way to bring it up was, this wasn’t it, he knew immediately. But at least, he could tell, Lily knew exactly what he was talking about. Her lips parted, her eyes full of surprise, but then her auburn eyebrows dipped low in a frown.

“First of all, if you must know, Marlene is not interested in Black in the least bit,” she shot him a stern look that Remus’ own mother would have been jealous of, he was sure. “She’s into girls.”

“What…” Remus gaped at her as if he had just been Confunded. “What are you talking about?”

“I would have explained to you what I’m talking about ages ago but seeing as you refused to so much as look at me for weeks, that hasn’t been exactly easy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… I had some suspicions and I reckoned, if I did a little test to confirm that Sirius really wasn’t interested in someone else coming onto him very strongly…”

“What?” 

“I’ve heard things… And I wondered, too... And that day when you were at the hospital wing, before you both realised that I was there…” Lily continued to utter disconnected phrases as though she couldn’t see Remus’ confused face right in front of her. “But even before that… I started paying more attention and I started seeing all these little things… And I wanted to see for myself... Sirius really cares for you a lot, have you noticed?”

“Er… We’re friends, we’ve been friends for a little while, I would hope that he cares.” Remus couldn’t deny having noticed how attentive and accommodating Sirius had been acting but, surely, that was nothing out of the ordinary when you had been friends with someone for years.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the surprise party, the whole night.”

“Uh-huh…” Remus squinted at her now, wondering whether Lily was trying to play a prank on him or if someone had actually Confunded her.

“Well, he played dumb when Marlene approached him, he wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was openly flirting with him! And when has Sirius Black turned down a pretty girl asking him out?”

“Well regardless,” Remus rolled his eyes, “poor planning on your behalf, if you will allow me to be so blatant. I know for a fact that Sirius fancies someone. Do you mind?” He motioned at his legs, still glued together, and Lily waved her wand impatiently, freeing him.

“How so?” She looked as though she’d just been smacked across the face.

“I heard him talking about it to James and Peter. He even told me himself when I asked.”

“Who is then?!” She demanded, her voice going up.

“Dunno.”

“But… I really thought he fancied you…”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from emitting a bitter laugh. “Me? Where'd’you get that from?”

“Well,” Lily started slowly. “There’s rumours going around about how Sirius downright rejected three or four people that asked him out this year. Four or five, if you count Marlene… So now some people think that he must have his eye on someone specific. And, well, I thought - since he hasn’t been seen with anyone - it must be someone that he’s reluctant to make a move on...because maybe that someone is an old friend…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed now. 

Remus stared at her blankly as his brain worked to process what she had just said. “Sorry, what?”

“Well… Don’t you agree that that would make sense?”

“I would, but then we’d both be wrong. This theory of yours makes Divination seem like an exact science.”

The thought of someone seriously considering this to be a plausible scenario took Remus by such surprise that he didn’t know how to react to it. It sounded as though Lily was getting carried away with it all, perhaps not considering his feelings too much. What made it worse was that there was this prickling, nagging thought in the back of his mind sometimes; a thought that maybe Sirius suspected that Remus fancied him and found it humorous. That maybe, whenever he did or said something unexpectedly flirtatious, it was meant to poke fun at him. Like that night a little while ago, when Sirius had called him ‘my love’ so casually, like a perfectly delivered punchline to a joke. 

And Remus felt secretly gratified to see Lily’s abashed face. If she’d come to him with her ludicrous plan first, he’d have made her swear she wasn’t going to actually do anything. He wasn’t exactly delighted at the idea of playing these absurd games with Sirius. And, on top of that, getting someone else involved in the whole thing. But he still felt a little twinge of affection in his chest - after all, Lily seemed to have acted this way out of kindness and with good intentions.

“I thought if I…” She muttered. “I suppose I can sort of see now how this was a er, flawed plan of action…”

“Forget it. It’s fine, you interfering trout,” Remus mumbled, allowing a warm smile to stretch across his lips and Lily matched it with a significantly more guilty looking one. “I’m flattered - by the looks of it, you seem to really have believed this laughable idea of yours.”

“Honestly! I simply don’t understand why you’re so adamant that you’re categorically unlovable. You’re funny and kind and smart and attractive - yes, I said what I said - and yet, you cling to this persona of a weird outcast of a monster.”

Remus stared down at her with an amused expression; if she knew what he was, she would understand how comically accurate the last part of her statement was. “You’re only saying that because you feel bad now.” He tugged at her arm and started walking down the hallway; they were going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures.

“Oh, you’re impossible!”

“You know what, James will be overjoyed when I tell him you jinxed me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“You’re not that different from that delinquent Potter boy after all,” Remus smirked sideways.

“This was different and you know it!”

“Different goals, perhaps. Same means of reaching them…” As they rounded the corner, Lily’s protesting squeals and Remus’ hearty laughter echoed off the stone walls.

[comradelup]

Julia would never describe death as enlightening. Quite the opposite, actually. Maybe… endarkening…. Point is, she never knew death until she died.

She opens her eyes on the shore of the astral sea. She feels bruised all over, and half her mind is still fast asleep. Groggy. That’s the word for it.

The sunless grey sky is above her, and the sound of lapping waves fill her ears. Sand surrounds her on the ground, and it’s almost comfortable, even if it may be getting in her hair. She doesn’t want to move, so she doesn’t.

A weird sense of familiarity washes over her as lazy as the waves. She’s been here before, right? Or perhaps she’s seen one too many friends and comrades die for death to be confusing and scary. Her most likely theory is that The Raven Queen does this to people to ease them into death after trauma.

She recalls the events before her death. Kalen returned with vengeance to blow up Raven’s Roost. She bets he was bitter about his loss and decided to erase any memory of his weakness. Well, he got his revenge. Julia tried to get as many people as she could out, but a whole building fell on her as a result. One of the two leaders of the revolution is dead. She’s only happy he didn’t get Magnus.

Magnus… she remembers him. A cheerful carpenter, a loving husband, a great crewmate.

Wait. What?

The memories trickle into her mind like a summer creek. The two of them in flowing red robes, standing somewhere up high. On the deck of some ship, but on land. Above land.

The Starblaster.

There were others too. Beautiful twin elves, a plain-looking human, a crunchy dwarf, a wallflower of a human, and a gnome captain. Their names hit her like arrows to the chest.

Taako. Lup. Barry. Merle. Lucretia. Davenport.

It comes back faster now. The flow quickens. The eight of them, on the Starblaster, on an endless mission. Images flash in her mind. Good times, bad times, laughter, love, screaming, crying. Life and death alike.

They were running from something, running to something else. But… what?

At least she knows why death is familiar. She’s died before. An explosion, an accidental poisoning, turning to a statue… death is an old friend in a way. She remembers her friends dying too. The four judges killing everyone but Lucretia. That time everyone but her, Lup, and Lucretia died so it was months of girls’ nights. One year the twins died and everyone else tried to cook like them but couldn’t, because who can cook like the twins?

These memories don’t quite feel like her own. She’s missing something. Lup and Barry trying to understand the chemical makeup of the Light of Creation. Merle dying so many times talking to John. Magnus died in the first cycle at the hands of The Hunger.

A weak groan escapes her and she closes her eyes. This is giving her a headache, trying to think through the static. Static… static…

Fischer! Her eyes snap open, arm frozen halfway to rubbing her temple. Death really is enlightening, the voidfish’s power doesn’t work on the dead. Somehow she forgot everything, or at least everything in Lucretia’s journals.

Oh, poor Lucretia. Now that it’s coming back to her, she remembers Lucretia bringing her and Magnus to Raven’s Roost, trying to hide her tears. She told them, this is where you’ve lived your whole lives, it’s not much, but it’s home. Julia retroactively corrects that no, the Starblaster is home, Lucretia is home, along with the rest of the crew. Lucretia must have erased their memories of their mission, but Julia can’t quite remember why. She can’t bring herself to be truly angry though; she loves Lucretia too much to be.

She starts to remember more recent details too. Lup… Lup went missing. She’s nowhere to be found, even with Barry and Taako’s rigorous searching. She went missing after the eight of them made the… the… the Grand Relics.

The dam breaks, and she knows everything— the Light of Creation, The Hunger, oh stars.

She lets her arm fall and stares up, letting all the sadness show on her face. The world might end, and no one else but a dead woman will know how to stop it. Not even, right? All she knows how to do is run away. This plane will be consumed and feasted upon until there’s nothing left, and she’ll be destroyed right with everyone el—

“Um, Julia?”

Julia cranes her head back towards the sound of the voice. Upside down, she sees a pair of fancy shoes and the hem of fancy slacks. They step closer and Julia looks up at the sky again as a face comes into view.

“You’re Julia Burnsides, right? Are you okay?” the man asks, and he’s handsome. Not the same rustic and warm handsomeness of Magnus, but a sharp, well dressed handsome. It isn’t her thing, but it’s hard to not admit that this guy is a looker. His long dreadlocks are pulled back in a half up half down style, and some of them fall over his shoulder as he looks down at her.

“I’m Julia,” she says, and her voice is raw. She coughs into her hand and he looks sympathetic. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Kravitz. Let me help you up.” He holds out a hand, and she takes it. It’s cold as shit but she doesn’t comment on it as he helps her stand.

Her body doesn’t like being vertical apparently. She now knows her bruises are the incorporeal equal of the injuries sustained from her death, and they make all movement painful. She wobbles a bit when on two feet and balances herself on Kravitz’s steady hand.

“Thanks,” she mutters through the pain, because her parents didn’t raise a rude girl.

“Of course,” Kravitz says, taking his hand back and using both hands to hold onto a sharp scythe taller than him. It’s actually about Julia’s height, as she stands a good few inches above him.

“There’s a bit of… an issue here,” he continues, “When a person dies, they either go into the astral sea or the eternal stockade. Or, in special cases, to the Raven Queen herself to discuss joining her retinue. You shouldn’t have ended up here.”

He’s saying a lot of words at once. Her head’s still swimming. She feels dizzy. Remembering a century all at once after a falling building killed you is… tough to handle all at once. And it's not the position she should be in when discussing… what was it? Death crimes? He mentioned a stockade, right?

“I… I should…” She brings a hand to her head and rubs the part of her temple that isn’t super bruised.

“You don’t look good, here.” Julia’s staring at the ground, blinking and trying not to sway, so she doesn’t see what he does. She hears fabric ripping, and he puts a cold hand on her shoulder.

“Step right through here,” he says, voice quiet. He seems tuned in to her headache and is accommodating, for which she's thankful.

She follows his direction, through a portal of sorts. One second she’s on a beach, the next she’s in a throne room, four stories tall. The floors and walls are black marble with an iridescent sheen to them. The far left wall is floor to ceiling windows, showing off the astral sea. It's beautiful, swirling rainbow waters with millions of lights floating above the surface. The sky is grey, but not like it’s covered by clouds, it’s naturally grey. Not a sun or cloud to be seen. In the window sills are ravens, hopping around or snoozing or watching her. All of them are silent in the presence of their queen.

The Raven Queen is hard to perceive. She is in the back of the room, on a large throne. Shadows cover that end of the room, so she can’t see the queen’s face. She does know she’s huge, though. Tens of feet tall, Julia guesses she’d be almost as tall as the throne room if she wasn’t sitting. She’s wearing an impeccable dark suit glittering with gold accents and jewelry. There are rings on her gloved fingers and bracelets on her wrists, and her hands sit on the arms of the throne. One leg is crossed over the other, letting a dark flowing cape pool at one foot.

In her presence, Kravitz kneels. Following, Julia does the same. He says, “My Queen, I found Julia Burnsides on the shore of the astral sea, disoriented and in pain. I don’t know what her soul’s fate is, so I come to you for guidance.”

Julia stays quiet, looking at the floor. She can kind of see her reflection, and sees that her face isn’t as beat up as it feels. In fact, it’s completely free of injury. She’s also wearing her IPRE robe. Huh.

After a moment of silence, The Raven Queen speaks. “Julia Burnsides, you have died twenty-two times, including your most recent death.”

Julia looks up to the queen and sees Kravitz staring at her bewildered out of the corner of her eye. She can’t see the queen’s expression, but her voice makes her sound accusatory. So Julia nods, unsure of what else to say.

“Yet… you have entered the Astral Plane every time. You also never escaped the plane. That is an anomaly.”

“I can explain, your majesty.” Julia remembers other Astral Planes too, with the occasional alternate death deities. At least in this plane, it’s The Raven Queen and not that other one, The King of Death and Insects. She hates bugs.

“Please do.” The queen waves a hand, and two armchairs appear, with a coffee table in front of them. Julia takes the silent invitation and moves to sit down in one. Two mugs of tea appear and she takes one. What's most strange is Kravitz seems more confused than her as he does the same. Julia must be a real edge case.

She takes a sip of tea and feels the warmth travel down her throat into her stomach, then spread to her whole body. It seeps away the pain and clears her head, making her sigh in relief and relax into her seat.

“Now,” The Raven Queen says, “explain your deaths.” She holds up a palm in her direction and pushes it towards her. Julia feels a breeze blow past her as a Zone of Truth appears around her. Admittedly, she’s developed a familiarity with it thanks to Merle, but she lets the spell affect her this time. She has no reason to lie to a queen.

“I… I don’t know where to start,” Julia says. If only she had Lucretia’s journals and could read them to the queen. “Do you know about the multiverse theory?”

She goes on to explain everything from the beginning. Where she's really from, the Light of Creation landing on her home plane, and the original mission of the IPRE. The Hunger and how it interrupted this mission, the cycles that brought her and her family from the dead. She even explains that this is the first death where she wasn’t put into the astral sea. (Except for that one time she and Barry ended up in that plane’s stockade, though. It was only an experiment gone wrong, after all, so why include it?)

All of this is new information for The Raven Queen and Kravitz, but it feels new to Julia too. For some of the details she says them without thinking and then reflects on them. Taako made a fake Light of Creation? Oh right, he did!

After she’s done explaining, she sits back, taking a big sip of her tea. Her cup never seems to empty and for that, she’s glad, because every sip brings back that warm feeling in this cold, dead plane.

Kravitz looks bewildered and intrigued by the story, but also says nothing. The Raven Queen is quietly contemplative for a moment, then says, “Those relics are causing a lot of death. You created them?”

Julia flushes. “Yes, your majesty, but we didn’t mean to cause wars. The Light of Creation needs to be needed, so we tried to make intriguing objects. They ended up using the people wielding them instead of the other way around.” She looks down into her lap, staring at the tea swirling in the mug. Voice low, she adds, “We would never do that to so many innocent people.”

She can tell she brought down the mood of the room, evidenced by Kravitz’s kind of awkward look as he clearly doesn’t know how to make her feel better. She can’t bring herself to care though. Maybe ignorance really is blissful, she was happiest she’s been in decades when all she knew was Raven’s Roost.

“Things like this are rarely intentional,” The Raven Queen says, her tone somber. “These objects, they are an affront to the nature of life and death. They are an insult to my domain.”

“You’re really good at cheering people up, you know that?” Julia deadpans, apathetically staring at her drink. Kravitz stares at her with wide eyes.

“I am saying this to ask: can you stop these objects from killing people?” The Raven Queen asks.

“I… imagine that we could. We’ve handled the Light so much that we are more or less immune to it’s craveability.”

“I’m sorry, ‘craveability?’” Kravtiz interjects. Julia nods, sipping her tea.

“So your living crewmates could put an end to these wars?” The Raven Queen asks.

“They’re the only ones who can,” Julia says.

The Raven Queen is silent for another moment. Then, “Until all Grand Relics are collected and disposed of, your family’s bounties will be called off.”

Julia sighs, relieved, and sags into her seat. Then sits back up. “But what will happen to me?”

“You cannot influence the Prime Material Plane anymore. You have the option of joining the astral sea, or lessening your family’s sentence by serving time yourself.”

“But their deaths are like mine. They didn’t escape the Astral Planes willingly and you technically can’t punish them.”

Kravitz looks at her like she’s walking into a volcano and expecting to live. She gets it, she knows she’s talking back to a goddess, but she doesn’t care.

“Lup Hallwinter and Sildar Hallwinter are liches, and they will be punished accordingly.”

“Just call them— ugh—” Julia huffs a sigh and sags into her chair in frustration. She puts her cup down and says, “They did it ethically, for the greater good. Lup and Barry were able to do so much good without death to stop them!”

“There is a reason death stops them. Everyone thinks they have a good reason to cross me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them!” Julia shouts, standing. Kravitz stands too, scythe at the ready. Julia pays him no mind, pointing a finger at the queen. “You OWE them!”

The air is still. Kravitz is ready to strike at the queen’s order. Julia doesn’t give a shit. Goddess or not, she can’t act like she knows Barry and Lup enough to just declare their fates. Other liches? Yeah, they’re almost always corrupt and selfish, but what Lup and Barry did is selfless if anything.

“There is no point in arguing. Make your choice.”

Julia raises her chin defiantly. The same look she’s given corrupt warlords and wealthy industrialists, the look she’d give John if she met him rather than Merle. The queen is unmoving and Julia knows her effort is futile, at least now. She crosses her arms. “I’ll serve their sentence.”

“It’s decided then. Julia Burnsides, you will begin training as a Reaper, serving the sentences of Lup and Sildar Hallwinter. Reaper Kravitz, you will train her."