#i need to spell check these tags before i confirm them oh my god

[m00ngbin]

JUST FINISHED THE SECOND SEASON OF MP100 AGAIN AND SOMETHING THAT I LOVE IS THAT MOB ISNT ALWAYS JUST NICE ON IMPULSE. HE HAS TO MAKE AN EFFORT. HE *CHOOSES* TO BE KIND

[wrenhyperfixates]

Stay the Night

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Your fear of thunderstorms leads you to invite Loki to stay the night at your place. Warnings: none A/N: Happy reading :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

It was raining. No, that was an understatement. It was pouring; torrents of water attacked your house. You thanked the powers that may be for letting you get your leak fixed last month. You didn’t mind the rain, not really, but this was just depressing. And the strength of the storm was a little scary, too. The claps of thunder seemed to rattle the very foundation of your house, and you jumped a little every time. There was only one thing making the relentless downpour bearable. Loki.

“Darling?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “Is there something wrong?”

You tried to relax your visibly tense body. “Yeah, I’m ok. Totally fine.”

He looked unconvinced, but kept his skepticism to himself. No need to pry, he supposed. He took your hand in his and used his thumb to rub circles on the back of it. He hoped it would help calm you. There was a time he never would have been so bold as to initiate contact, but you changed that. You’d shown him it was ok to do. With you it was, anyway.

As another boom of thunder filled the air, you squeezed Loki’s hand tighter. He gave you another concerned look. He wasn’t very fond of thunderstorms himself, and he wondered if the same thing was plaguing you. The thought reminded him of his brother, and then the Tower. He really should be getting back home, but how he so hated to leave you, his precious mortal.

You’d met him one day in the Tower. You were the receptionist on the first floor, and more often than not, Loki chose just to teleport in and out. At that time, it had only been a month since you’d gotten the job, and you’d yet to see the god. For whatever reason, he decided to use the front door that day. You stopped him as he tried to walk through the security measures without checking in.

“Excuse me, sir,” you’d said. “I’m going to need to see your Tower ID.”

“Oh, darling,” he’d said. “I do not think I need any verification. Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Loki of Asgard.” He’d bowed and placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“And I’m in charge of this reception desk,” you’d replied, puffing up your chest and blocking his way. He laughed a little. “And I need some ID.”

“Very well,” he’d sighed. As he searched for the little card, you let out a breath of relief. You’d never had this trouble with any of the other Avengers. He finally found it and presented it with a charming smile. “Aha! Here we are, darling. Are we all good here then?”

“Yup,” you said, swiping him through. “Have a nice day, Loki of Asgard.”

“And to you too, but I do not think I caught your name.” You gave it to him, and he’d repeated it with yet another smile. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

“Me too,” you responded with a shy grin back at him.

He made sure to always use the door after that, usually waiting until he got to the desk to pull out his ID, giving him a chance to chat with you. Your friendship quickly blossomed, and you both developed feelings for each other. Not that either of you would admit it out of fear the other wouldn’t feel the same.

Right now, he would just teleport home, since your friendly face wouldn’t be there to greet him with a smile. He didn’t really want to go, but he also didn’t want to overstay his welcome. You hadn’t given him any reason to think he had, it was just his nature to believe that was so.

“I had better take my leave before it gets too late,” he told you, making to stand up.

“No!” you shouted with an unexpected urgency. “Uh, what I mean is that you shouldn’t go out in this storm. Why don’t you stay the night here? If that’s not weird, of course.”

His heart beat a little faster as you desperately clung to his hand. Of course he could tell you that it was no trouble; with his magic, he wouldn’t have to set foot outside. But he could tell this was about something more than you were saying. Besides, who was he to turn down some more time with you?

“It is not weird at all, darling,” he replied, getting comfortable on the couch once more. “It sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

He brought his arms around you and hugged you to his chest, gently running his hand up and down your arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. From the way you relaxed against him, he supposed that it was. As the episode you were watching finished, you flipped through the channels and landed on the Food Network. The food on the screen caused an embarrassingly loud grumble in your stomach, but Loki just beamed at you.

“Are you hungry, darling?” he asked. “Perhaps I could make us a snack?”

“I’m the host,” you replied, with a shake of your head. “I should be providing the food.”

“How about we make it together then?” he suggested. “What would you like?”

“I’m craving nachos right now, if that’s fine with you.” You were met with a blank stare. “Do you not know what nachos are?” you exclaimed in disbelief.

“I am afraid I do not,” he chuckled. It never ceases to amaze you how there was always some other new Midgardian food to introduce him to. “I will gladly try them, though. You will have to take the lead on the cooking, of course.”

You nodded your head and led him to your kitchen, pulling out the ingredients you’d need. You cooked the chicken while Loki cut up the tomatoes and lettuce. You instructed Loki on how to prepare the rest of the toppings while you melted the cheese on the chips. All the delicious aromas filling the kitchen only served to make your stomach growl louder. You sheepishly giggled as the both of you loaded up the plate with everything you’d made.

“Are they ready, then?” Loki asked. “Should I try it?”

You excitedly nodded yes. He picked up a chip with all the toppings on it. He sniffed at it before closing his eyes and taking a delicate bite. His eyes shot open in excitement as the flavors exploded on his tongue. He quickly polished off the rest of the chip.

“It is delicious, darling! You are quite the talented chef, you know.”

You shifted your weight, never sure how to react to a compliment. “Thanks, Loki. You are too.”

He gestured to the plate, and you took your first bite. As you stood at the counter, chatting and eating, you almost forgot about the storm raging on outside. Well, that was until you finished the dish, and thunder sounded once more, the rain attacking with a revived fury.

“Do you wish to go to bed now?” he inquired, mistaking your masked fear as exhaustion. “I hope I have not kept you up.”

“No, not at all,” you were quick to reassure him. “Actually, I want to stay up a while longer. We could even make a pillow fort! That is if, uh, if you wanted to.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea, darling.”

You’d introduced him to the notion the first time the two of you were up late together, and he’d taken to it immediately. You’d suggested he should be the prince of the fort, but he’d insisted that you take on the role of monarch. He did the same now as you gathered the pillows, blankets, and cushions, setting to work building your haven on the floor and couch.

“Well, darling,” he said, leaning back and pulling you with him, “I think we did a pretty good job.”

“Even better than last time,” you agreed.

As you turned the TV back on, you found you were more interested in studying Loki’s face than watching the movie he’d picked. He was so beautiful, down to every last detail. Realizing the sheer number of times his perfect, pink lips had formed the word darling made your heart skip a beat or two. He’d been saying it since he first met you, but it was different now; softer, more caring. He thought what was actually a thrill induced shiver was a sign that you were cold, and carefully draped a blanket around your shoulders, holding you even closer than before.

“Are you truly feeling alright?” he fretted. “You are not feeling ill, are you?”

“No, Loki. Don’t worry. I’m totally and completely fi-”

Thunder cut off your sentence once more, and you whimpered, confirming his suspicions from earlier. Before you could explain the involuntary reaction away, Loki cupped your cheeks and looked deep into your eyes.

“Darling!” he exclaimed. “You are afraid of the thunder.”

“I am,” you wailed, burying your head in your hands as his arms wrapped around you. He held your head to his chest, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. “I am. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nonsense. I am rather terrified of it, too. Far too many unpleasant memories of Thor’s temper tantrums and combat training,” he grimaced. “Does it carry the same kind of horrid association for you?”

“Mhm. When I was a kid,” you said, taking a deep breath, “a bolt of lightning struck the tree in my front yard. It fell over, and the entire house was soon engulfed with flames. My family and I were all ok, but it was scary.”

“And understandably so!” he comforted you. “I am so sorry you went through something so horrid. I promise you are safe here with me, though. I will never let anything harm you.”

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, only to bury it back in the crook of his neck at another clap of thunder. He rubbed your back again and comfortingly shushed you as you whimpered more, reassuring you that you would be alright. That he would make sure of it. All of a sudden, that was the only noise you were hearing. Well, that and the TV. Everything else went quiet. You dared to peek up, and saw Loki smiling at you, but with concern in his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked, perplexed by the sudden silence of the storm outside.

“I have cast a spell. A bubble of silence of sorts,” he replied. “It is a talent I developed for when things get really bad.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“You are welcome,” he whispered as you snuggled closer to him. He placed a kiss to your head and immediately feared he’d overstepped. “I am sorry, darling. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable.”

“On the contrary,” you said, pecking him on the lips, “I wouldn’t mind more.”

He recovered quickly from his shock and moved to kiss you again. It was sweet and gentle, yet you were drowning. Drowning in his scent, his taste, his everything. But you didn’t mind. If the air was taken from your lungs, this was a good way to go.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, a radiant smile gracing your face.

“And I you, my darling.”

As you kissed again, you thought that thunderstorms might not be that bad, after all.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 11

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Spark.

She watches Ethan from the couch as he pulls a tin of muffins out of the oven, arranging a few on a plate. She’s been thinking a lot about what Mulder said about not having a spark with his ex. She wonders if she and Ethan have a spark, or if they did at one point. When she thinks about her relationship with Ethan, what stands out to her is commitment, dedication, stability. And love, of course, she does love him.

When they first met through mutual friends, she wasn’t particularly interested. He was perfectly nice, and good looking enough, but struck her more as a potential friend than a boyfriend. He was steadfast, kept showing up, kept gently working to get to know her, and eventually she started to grow fond of him. They’ve joked that while his attraction to her was immediate, hers to him was more of a slow burn. This is what mature, adult relationships are like, right? Measured, practical, logical. When you’re young, wild, and free, you date whoever you have the most fun with, chasing the next exciting experience and the rush of a first kiss. But the person you marry should be someone who you know will be a dependable partner, a good parent, and a lifelong support. That has always been her belief.

Ethan returns to sit with her on the couch, setting the muffins on the coffee table to cool. He picks up her feet and puts them in his lap, casting her a brief smile before he goes to work pressing his thumbs into her arches as he watches TV.

Spark.

Is that what she feels when she’s with Mulder? A spark? Is that why her stomach goes into knots when he looks at her? Why she feels the overwhelming urge to touch him? The sensation that there is an electrical current passing between them is not one she’s ever felt with Ethan, that’s for sure. There was no adrenaline in their first kiss, only contentment. Comfort, safety, security. These are good feelings, ones you can build a life on. Can you build a life on a spark?

“You still going to try on dresses tomorrow with Missy?” he asks, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Mhmm,” she answers over her book, which she hasn’t gotten through a page of in over thirty minutes.

“Are you gonna let me see what you pick?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye with a surreptitious smirk.

She sets the book on her stomach and gives him a chastising smile. “Of course not, Ethan. That’s against the rules.”

“Who made that rule, anyway? I’ve already seen you naked, I should be able to see you in a fancy dress before the big day,” he says with a pointed look.

She swats him with the book.

“The fact that you’ve already seen me naked is also against the rules, so I guess we’re 0 for 2. Don’t tell my mother that,” she lectures playfully.

“I’m sure she has her suspicions, given that we live together,” he says dryly.

“Leave the woman to her ignorant bliss,” she retorts, and they hold eye contact for a moment, exchanging affectionate smiles.

Not a spark, but maybe an ember. Burning steady, carrying them through the dark nights. Sparks die out quickly. She only hopes her spark with Mulder fades soon, because right now it’s burning so bright it’s distracting her from the ember sitting right at her feet.

———

She frowns at herself in the mirror.

“This one is really pretty, Sis, you don’t like it?” Missy asks, tugging at the train to straighten it out.

“I don’t know. Maybe. No.”

She looks forlornly at the rack of dresses she’s already tried on. Every length and cut, style of bodice and neckline. They all seemed wrong.

“I mean, I know you’re generally hard to please, Dana, but this is getting ridiculous,” Missy laments.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies, casting Missy an apologetic look.

“Which one do you think Ethan would like? Would that help you decide?” Missy offers helpfully.

Ethan. Right. She realizes that she’s been thinking about what Mulder would make of her in a white dress. She suspects he’d go for the mermaid fit.

“Can we just try again another day, maybe? I think I’m just not in the right headspace for this,” she pleads with her big sister.

“Sure, whatever you want. Let’s go get coffee or something,” Missy says as she ushers Dana back into the changing room.

They go to her favorite local spot, finding two open armchairs near the fireplace, which is off for the summer. Dana tucks her legs under her torso, sipping at an indulgent white chocolate mocha; she feels the need for small pleasures right now. Missy eyes her appraisingly, and she can feel the third degree that is about to commence.

“So what’s up with you?” she finally asks, her tone inquisitive but not abrasive.

“What do you mean?” Dana asks in reply, avoiding her eyes.

Missy’s head drops to the side in exasperation. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Dana? I’m trying to be supportive of your decision to marry Ethan, but you’re making it really hard being so openly miserable all the time.”

Dana looks at her with surprise and indignation. “I am not miserable.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Missy says sarcastically.

Dana shakes her head. “I’m just...I don’t know, I have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to elaborate?” Missy asks with an expectant look.

She sighs and sets her shoulders. She needs to talk to someone about this, and Missy is literally her only option.

“Okay, but first I need you to promise me you’re not going to make a big deal about this, because it’s really not a big deal,” she prefaces with a stern look.

“You know me, I don’t do big deals,” Missy replies, working hard to hide her anticipation for whatever her little sister is about to reveal.

“Okay. So, I met this man at work,” she starts, and Missy’s eyes go as round as oranges. “Missy, don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Missy defends, “go on.” She’s leaning forward in her chair, creating less space between them.

“He’s an agent, he was just picking something up for a case he’s working on, but he asked me out, and we’ve kind of been...we’ve become friends,” she says hesitantly, glancing at Missy to gage her reaction. Missy is forcing a blank expression.

“So...you’re dating him?” she asks flatly.

“No! Oh god, no. I mean, he asked me out and I told him that I have a boyfriend, but now we’re just kind of friends, and….Jesus Christ.” She drops her forehead into her palm. Even describing what’s going on with Mulder is apparently impossible. “We are just friends, but...but I’m having a hard time reconciling how I feel about him.”

“How do you feel about him?” Missy asks.

Dana shakes her head. “I don’t know how to describe it, Missy. I love Ethan, I’m not having doubts about him, but this man...I feel so drawn to him. Being around him feels...almost electric.”

“Like you have a spark?” Missy asks, and Dana’s head snaps to look at her. She’s open, curious.

“Yeah...exactly like that,” she replies regretfully.

Missy nods in understanding, and it somehow makes Dana feel a little better, like she’s not totally crazy. “Tell me about him,” she requests, and Dana can’t help but smile.

“Um, he’s a criminal behavioral analyst, in the Behavioral Science Unit. Oxford educated. He’s funny, but in a dry, intellectual way. He has some pretty outlandish ideas, but he’s so passionate about what he believes in, it’s impossible not to take him seriously. He’s kind of intense, but really alluring.” She pauses, knowing she can’t go on much further without veering into gushing.

“Is he cute?” Missy asks, and Dana closes her eyes.

“SO good looking. Painfully so.” She opens them and Missy is smiling knowingly at her.

“Sounds like a real catch, Sis.”

“Yeah, but I’m engaged to someone who is also a great catch in his own right. I feel like I’m in a romcom.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Missy asks earnestly.

Dana looks at her with surprise. “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. It’s just distracting, but obviously nothing can or will come of it.”

Missy gives her a doubtful expression, but then raises her eyes to meet with someone over Dana’s shoulder, giving them a questioning look. Dana turns to see Mulder standing beside her, a cup in his hand and that damn boyish smile on his mouth.

“Hey, Scully, we meet again,” he says, glancing between her and Missy.

“Mulder, hi,” she stumbles, bringing her feet to the floor and squirming around as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. “Um, Mulder, this is my sister, Melissa. Missy, this is Fox Mulder.”

He steps forward and extends his hand to Missy, and she shakes it with a flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Fox.”

“Oh, please call me Mulder,” he replies.

“Alright, Mulder, would you like to join us?” Missy asks, and Dana shoots her a look.

“Um, yeah, I can hang out for a minute,” he replies cautiously, pulling up a chair between the two of theirs.

“So, how do you and Dana know each other?” she asks, and Dana isn’t sure if she’s asking because she realizes who he is, or because she doesn’t.

“We work together, technically speaking. I’m a criminal behavioral analyst in the Behavioral Science Unit.” Missy gives Dana a look that tells her it was the latter. “What are you two up to today?” he asks, running his palm over a stubbled cheek. She can hear the scratch of the short hairs against his skin and it sets off a tingle at the back of her neck.

“We were just doing some wedding dress shopping,” Missy offers, watching his reaction closely.

“Ah,” he says, only moderately concealing his dissatisfaction, “sounds like a good time.” His tone is dry and not at all genuine. “So, Scully,” he says, directing his words to Dana, “Priscilla was wondering if you could stop by next weekend. She has something to show you.”

She smiles coyly. “Does she? Not a hairball, I hope?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, it’s a file, actually. Her personal favorite, she’d love to share it with you.”

“I think I might be free on Saturday,” she replies, “I just need to check, um…”

“Check with Ethan, right,” he finishes, his smile fading a bit.

“Right,” she confirms, her own smile quickly extinguishing.

Mulder stands. “I’ll email you, to confirm.” He turns to Missy, “It was nice to meet you, Melissa.”

Missy beams at him. “Likewise.”

Mulder turns to Scully and gives her a longing glance, then leaves. They watch him go, waiting until the door has closed behind him to speak.

Missy slaps Dana’s arm. “Oh. My. GOD, Sis!” she exclaims with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What?” Dana returns.

“Spark? That is a goddamn bonfire. Even I could feel it,” she says with a look of wonder.

Dana gives her a pained expression then drops her head into her hands with a groan.

“Why does he call you Scully? And who the hell is Priscilla?” Missy adds.

Dana lifts her head, looking at her sister regretfully with a shrug.

“He said I don’t look like a Dana. Priscilla is his cat.”

Missy closes her eyes for a moment and gently shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing like she’s trying to reconcile all this information in her brain.

“Whoa, so you’ve been to his place?” Missy asks incredulously.

Dana nods hesitantly.

“Sis, what are you doing? If you were to tell me that you’re going to break it off with Ethan and run away with that beautiful man I would honestly support you. But if you’re trying to keep things on the up and up here, a private rendezvous at his apartment seems like a really bad idea.” Missy is deeply confused, not used to being in the position to tell her sister what decisions are unwise. That is typically Dana’s role in their relationship.

Dana glares at her sister defensively. “We’re just friends, Missy. Men and women can be just friends.”

Missy shoots her a ‘do you think I was born yesterday?’ look.

“Sure they can, if they aren’t insanely attracted to each other. That man practically devoured you with his eyes, Dana. He wants to be more than your friend,” she says emphatically.

“Well, he’s not going to be. I’m with Ethan. And I’m an adult who can control myself enough to maintain boundaries with a platonic friend who happens to be an attractive man. I’m not a Neanderthal, Missy.” She’s using her professor voice, presenting the topic with supporting evidence. Only the facts, folks.

“Okay,” Missy says, acquiescing. “If you trust yourself then great, have fun with your friend. Does Ethan know you’re gallivanting around with a sexy behavioral analyst?”

The guilty look that overtakes Dana’s face is answer enough.

“Well,” Missy continues, “just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she brings levity back to the conversation with a little smirk.

“That leaves me with a lot of options, Missy,” Dana retorts, and Missy slaps her arm again.

[aresaphrodites]

2 - bughead ❤️

this is definitely not spooky at all, but it’s cute and fun so i hope you like it <3

#2:  “ Who ate all my candy?!!”

.

.

.

“A Snickers, your majesty?” 

Betty Jones leans down and opens her mouth wide, allowing the small candy bar to fall onto her tongue. “Mmm,” she moans lightly. “My favorite!” She smacks her lips dramatically and watches as two pairs of matching blue eyes look at her in disgust. 

“Nasty, mommy,” Mia Jones says with a little squeal and shakes her head, causing her black curls to fly around wildly. 

Meanwhile Zeke Jones is grinning up at his mom, a pack of Skittles clutched in his hand tightly. “Mommy, mommy! Catch!” He doesn’t even give her time to react before he’s throwing a green Skittle at her face. It bounces off her nose and Betty watches as the twins go completely still, eyes wide and mouths dropped open as if they’re about to get scolded. 

“I missed that one on purpose,” Betty tells them, “I hate the green ones.” 

Zeke cackles and throws a red one at her, which she actually does catch this time. The twins cheer for their mom, so excited for her in a way that only six-year-olds can be. Their laughter and energy is so infectious though, that she finds herself laughing along with them.

“Mommy,” Mia says as they continue to sort through all their candy, “you look very pretty tonight.” 

“Aw,” Betty coos and presses a kiss to her daughter’s head. “Thank you, baby! I think you look very beautiful.” 

“Do I look like a princess?” She asks softly, playing with the ends of her Sleeping Beauty dress. “My hair doesn’t match.”

Betty frowns slightly. Mia has always been a little insecure about the color of her hair and Betty will never understand why. Unlike Zeke, who has golden blonde waves like Betty, Mia has her father’s hair, just a little more wild, and Betty has always loved it. It’s her favorite.

“That’s a dumb question,” Zeke says, mouth full of a Milky Way, taking Betty out of her thoughts. 

“Zeke Jones!” She scolds once she sees Mia’s frown deepen. “That’s not nice at all, young man. We don’t say things like that. What do I tell you?” 

Zeke sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically. God, he may be only six, but he has his father’s attitude. It’s adorable, but sometimes Betty wants to yell at Jughead for teaching their sweet son this. 

“There is no such thing as a dumb question,” Zeke recites. “But what if I ask you if it’ll hurt my eyes if I look at a picture of the sun?” 

Betty looks at her son, completely baffled, and then erupts into laughter. 

“What?” She wheezes. “Zekey, where do you come up with this stuff?” 

“Well?” He presses, placing his hands onto his hips. He accidentally knocks his lightsaber off his hip and Mia reaches over to pick it up before he can step on it. “Is that a dumb question?” 

“I’m going to take away all your candy if you keep giving me attitude,” she tells her son, refusing to admit that yes, that actually is a dumb question. His eyes go wide and she continues. “And you need to apologize to your sister right now, mister.” 

“No,” he whines, “Mommy, you never let me finish what I’m saying! You always do this!” 

“Excuse me?” She gasps, appalled. “I do not!” 

“You do too! You do it to daddy and you do it to me!” He looks down at his twin sister. “Right, Mia?” 

Mia, the little traitor, nods rapidly. “It’s true, mommy. I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Betty says softly, with a fake sadness. “My own kids… out to hurt me.” 

Zeke giggles, but he sits back down on the floor and wraps his arms around his sister tightly before pulling away and handing her a Twizzler. “It’s a dumb question because of course you look like a princess. Who cares if you don’t have hair like me and mommy? All the coolest princesses have dark hair.” 

“Oh yeah?” Mia asks, doubtful. “Like who?” 

“Snow White! She was really cool. She was so sweet and nice that all the animals loved her, just like the doggies love you. And Belle! She was awesome! She loved books and was super smart, just like you are. I bet she passed all her spelling tests like you do.” 

Mia smiles softly at her brother’s words and Betty’s heart clenches at the sight in front of her. Sure, there are days when the kids are at each other’s throats so badly that Betty questions how she hasn’t lost her mind yet, but underneath it all, they love each other so much and they’re always there for one another. It’s all she’s ever wanted for her children, and she’s so happy that they have each other. 

“Don’t forget Mulan,” a new voice rings out from the foyer. Mia immediately lights up at the sight of her favorite man making his way into the living room. “Mulan’s my favorite princess.” Mia jumps up from the floor and runs into her dad’s arms, squealing as he picks her up and twirls her around before placing her onto his hip. “So what’s this I hear about you not liking your hair?” 

Mia blushes and looks down. “I didn’t say that, daddy. I just said it wasn’t like a princess’ hair.” 

Jughead Jones gasps in shock. “What? Says who?” 

“Well… Sleeping Beauty didn’t have blonde hair,” she says sheepishly. 

“So?” Zeke snaps. “Kylo Ren didn’t have blonde hair, but I think I still look awesome.” 

“Of course you do, baby,” Betty says, ruffling her son's hair as he comes to sit in her lap. 

“See,” Jughead says, smiling down at his wife and son before looking back up to his daughter. “It doesn’t matter what color your hair is, dumpling. You’re a princess, just like your brother is the evil Supreme Leader of Riverdale.” 

“He was a good guy!” Zeke wails and Betty and Jughead have to stop themselves from bursting into laughter. Their son has taken to the Star Wars franchise lately, and even though Betty’s not sure how she feels about him watching it already, it’s nice to see him so passionate about something that isn’t bugs or tormenting his sister. 

“Daddy, why do you call me that?” Mia asks, ignoring her brother. “I hate dumplings!” 

“Well, I love dumplings,” Jughead tells her. He places a kiss to her nose, making her giggle. “And I love you! So you’re my little dumpling. In fact, next year I think you should be a dumpling for Halloween.” 

“You’re silly,” Mia tells him before resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

Jughead walks the two of them over to where Betty and Zeke are sitting, and then he sits down on the floor next to his wife. 

“Well, hello, Mother of Dragons.” His eyes rake over Betty’s body and she sends him a bemused look. “Did you miss me?” 

“You were gone for like, ten minutes,” she tells him as Mia and Zeke get up from their parent’s laps to go back to searching through their pumpkin baskets. “Why did your work call you so late? You’re not on call.”

Jughead smiles at her. Betty’s always been very big on their family time, especially because it’s a little hard with Jughead’s job as a neurosurgeon at the hospital in the city. It’s not that long of a commute, but when you add all the hours he has to work, it’s a lot more tiring than either of them would like. When he does have a day off, he’s usually so tired that he just wants to rest, so Betty cherishes these moments and it annoys her whenever they’re interrupted. 

“Nothing to worry about, Betts.” He leans over and kisses the side of her mouth. “One of the interns just mixed up a bit of the paperwork, so Harvey was calling me to confirm a couple of things. Don’t worry, I’m still yours for the next three days.” 

Betty just hums out. “Well, you were missed, Jon Snow.” She reaches up and brushes her hand against his cheek. “I still cannot believe you grew out your facial hair for this costume.” 

“I wanted to be season five Jon Snow,” he says, bringing his own hand up to capture his wife’s. “You don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say that. It’s just a little different. Are you going to keep it?” 

He laces their fingers together and brings Betty’s hand up to his lips, kissing her wedding finger, right above where the gorgeous diamond ring sits. “What do you think, my queen?” 

Betty snorts and shoves him playfully. “I think you look very mature with it.” 

“Oh? So I don’t look like a highschooler anymore? Awesome. It’s only been like fifteen years.” 

“Daddy!” Zeke screeches. “Look, I saved this for you!” He runs over to his parents and hands Jughead a squished Baby Ruth. “It’s your favorite, so I didn’t eat it.” 

“Aw, thanks, bud!” He takes the candy and wraps his arm around Zeke, bringing him against his chest. “You could have eaten it, though. I’m sure I have some in my pumpkin.” 

At his words, Zeke makes a comically nervous face and Mia laughs lightly behind her hands. Jughead catches on immediately. 

“Okay,” he drags out, suspicious, “who has my pumpkin?” 

“I haven’t seen it,” Zeke says quickly. 

“Nope!” Mia agrees, shaking her head while still giggling. 

Jughead whirls around to look at Betty. “Babe? Where’s my pumpkin?” 

“I haven’t seen it,” she says quietly, cheeks red, “did you check the kitchen?” 

“We haven’t even been to the kitchen since we got home!” 

The quiet jingle of Luna’s--the family dog’s--name tags echoes throughout the room and Jughead watches in horror as she brings him a chewed up pumpkin basket. 

“Oh, my God! Luna ate my candy!” 

Mia cackles loudly and now even Zeke and Betty are laughing along. 

“Not her, daddy,” Zeke says through his laughter and Jughead looks at his family in shock. 

“Then who?” Jughead asks, astonished. “We all have our own pumpkins!” 

“It wasn’t me,” Zeke sings out. “You know I don’t like chocolate that much, daddy.” 

“I know,” Jughead says, patting Zeke’s blonde waves. “My sweet baby boy would never do this to me. It could only be your mom or sister!” 

“Hey,” Betty and Mia whine. 

“You two are the only ones who deceive me like this,” Jughead whines and Mia looks at him in confusion. “The only ones who trick me like this!” 

“Maybe you’re going crazy, Juggie,” Betty says, even though she’s grinning so hard that her cheeks hurt. “No one ate your candy.” 

“You’ll pay for this tonight,” Jughead tells her and she gasps softly, knowing exactly what he means. He grins, happy with the effect he has on her, and then puts on his game face. “Alright, so which one of you is going to confess.” 

“It wasn’t me,” Betty and Mia say at the same time, both laughing still. 

“Who ate all my candy?!!” He shrieks, distraught, and this time they all erupt into laughter. 

“It was mommy!” Mia admits and Betty gasps, looking at her daughter in horror. “I’m sorry, mommy! I feel bad!” 

“Don’t feel bad for him! Feel bad for me! Daddy ate all my candy last year!” 

“You said you didn’t want it!” Jughead defends. “How was I supposed to know you meant that you just didn’t want it at that moment!” 

“Whoopsie,” Betty says and Jughead scoffs. 

“You literally still have an entire bucket full of candy, Elizabeth. Why did you eat mine?” 

“Because yours looked better.” 

“We got the same things!” 

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so.” 

Jughead gives her a deadpan look and then rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah. You’re definitely paying for this later on.” 

Betty just winks at him and he blows her a kiss. 

“Don’t be upset, daddy,” Mia says. “You can share my candy with me.” 

“Thank you, baby,” Jughead says with a pout. “You are the sweetest dumpling.” 

Mia smiles at him and gets up to hand over her basket to him. 

Betty laughs so hard that she can’t breathe whenever Jughead reaches his hand into the basket only to find out that their daughter has given him an empty one, having poured all her candy onto the floor earlier. 

After that, the house is filled with the sound of the twins’ laughter as Jughead chases them throughout the house, while Betty stands on the sidelines and protects her children from the “monster man”, the stolen candy long forgotten.

.

.

Send me a sentence from this list of spooky prompts with a ship and I’ll write you a short lil fic. :) 

[emma-nation]

Unfinished Business - F! Sam Dalton x MC Fanfiction (Chapter 2)

Summary: When Sam Dalton is caught in a scandal, Anna Schuyler is the only one who can help her. But will her former nanny be able to leave the past behind?

“Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don’t want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next… hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it’s too late now. You’re wide awake.”

Genre: Angst, Romance

Tag List: @save-me-the-last-dance (If you wish to be tagged for future chapters/fics of this pairing, let me know)

Anna couldn't determine how much time had passed since she became completely submerged in her own thoughts. Her brain couldn't quite process what was happening. It could only be another one of those crazy dreams she often had during these two years, where she and Sam would meet again under the most bizarre scenarios. It had to be.

In silence, she cautious glanced to the side to confirm it once more. Indeed, Sam Dalton was actually seating on her passenger seat.

She had to try and do something. If that was a dream, in the moment she tried to speak, she'd definitely wake up.

"An accomplice!" She shouted. "You just made me an accomplice."

"Anna..." Sam tried to respond to her accusations. "I'm so sorry..."

Not a dream. Anna wasn't dreaming after all. Her former boss, past lover and now a criminal, was really sitting by her side in the car. In flesh and bone. With her pretty face and fancy perfume.

"Listen, Sam, and listen well. I don't know who you think you are, but you have no right to toy with my life again. If the police stop us, I'll surely say you kidnapped me and forced me to drive away. No way I'm going to jail because of your cowardice."

"A coward. You think I'm being a coward again and running away from the problem."

"Isn't it what you always do?" And that was it. Anna was suddenly spitting out all the rage that had been stuck inside her chest for the last couple years. If Sam was going to drag her into her mess, she'd deal with the consequences.

The CEO lowered her eyes, looking terribly hurt and upset. For a second Anna could almost feel sorry for her, before reminding herself of everything she'd done in the past.

"Would you at least give me a chance to explain?" Sam asked. "In the end, you're free to choose if you want to help me or not."

Anna sighed. Being close to Samantha again was like being under a spell. Even when she tried so hard to resist, she couldn't say no. She couldn't escape. Before she could come back to her senses, she had already parked the car in front a small diner on the road.

The first thing Anna did when they entered was to head straight to the bathroom. Stopping on the sink, she washed her face multiple times as she tried to calm herself.

"I can't believe that..." she spoke to her on reflection in the mirror. "Only a few hours ago I was driving to my hometown, to meet my mom for a road trip. And now I'm stuck with... Sam Dalton."

Grabbing her phone, she considering texting Jenny but stopped herself. That wasn't a good time to answer all the questions and suggestive insinuations she'd make. She had to deal with that problem alone.

"Okay," recomposed, Anna returned, ordered some coffee and sat down in front of Sam on a booth, "explain yourself. You got about... 15 minutes. Until I finish this cup of coffee."

"Anna, I know what you're thinking," Sam took off the sunglasses and the hood. "I'm not a fugitive. Although my lawyers recommended not leaving the city or the state, it's not like the police is coming after me. I'm a free woman, at least until the trials."

That didn't make the situation any better. Sam was still being accused of a crime and for some reason, she thought Anna was her only hope to get away.

"Okay, but it doesn't mean you're innocent either. Right?"

"I am, this why I need your help. I need proof of my innocence."

Anna stared at her former lover for a long moment. It was the first time she noticed Sam was still wearing a wedding band. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. That woman was asking her help to save not only her career, but her marriage too. A marriage that destroyed Anna's heart only two years ago.

"I'm not a detective," she took a long sip of her coffee. Swallowing down her anger. "I'm afraid I can't help you then."

"This is not the case," the CEO explained. "Somebody offered that woman private information using my cell phone number. Somebody who had access to the company's most secretive projects."

"Wasn't she your... mistress? I mean, it would grant her direct access to your phone while you two were... together."

"Anna... this is not how it happened."

How could someone be so cynical? The woman could only be one of Samantha's nannies, that she seduced, fooled around and broke the heart, before sending her away. Anna rolled her eyes and channeled all the sarcasm that existed inside her.

"Oh, are you going to tell me she tripped and accidentally fell on your bed, in the middle of your legs?"

Sam showed some discomfort and looked away.

"I'm not even sure we slept together," she told after a pause. "We met at this event, had a few drinks together and then, all I remember was waking up by her side in a hotel room. After that, she started blackmailing me. She alleged to have compromising pictures. This is the real reason why I gave her the check."

That was enough information. She didn't want to listen any more details about the supposed sexual encounter.

"Okay, let's go straight to the point. How do you expect me to help you, Sam?"

"I brought my laptop and my phone with me. I know you're kind of a tech nerd, Anna. Can you try to find any evidence I got hacked and the information got extracted from my devices?"

"I..." it wasn't hard job. In a few hours, Anna was capable of scanning the devices for suspicious activities. Yet, her life would be crossing Sam's for a second time. There would be something that connected them, that would make Anna feel close to her again. And then, once she was proven innocent, it was to Sofia's arms she'd be running to. "I'm sorry, I really am. But I'm in the middle of something important. If you want, I can recommend you a friend of mine."

"I trust you, Anna. And I'll be paying for your time."

Avoiding her eyes, that was the key. She couldn't let herself to fall for them again. It would be nothing but an illusion. She needed to keep that in mind.

"I can't."

Anna stood up and paid for her coffee.

Sam asked her to drop her at some motel, from where she'd call Carter to pick her up. The drive was completely silent, neither of them dared to speak a word. Considering the tension in the air, anything could spark into an argument.

"How are the boys?" Anna couldn't go without asking that question. "I assume this situation must be a huge stress for them."

"I'm trying to protect them," Sam told. "I sent them to my parent's house as soon as the news started. But it hasn't been the same since you left. They hate me. They think I sent you away and I feel they'll never forgive me for that."

"It hurts me to know they somehow got involved into our mess. I still miss them too, I became a school teacher because of them."

"They'll be glad to hear that. You know you're free to visit them, whenever you want. Always."

"Better not."

Anna stopped the car. That was goodbye. The end of her reunion with the woman she used to love. Yet, none of them dared to say the final words. They just stood frozen, gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"You..." Sam broke the silence. "You're even prettier than I remembered, Anna. God, there isn't a single day you don't cross my mind. I wonder how you're doing, where you are, who you're with... It drives me crazy. I still miss you."

She could feel the distance between them had shortened. She could feel the point where Sam's breath was meeting hers. One move and their mouths would come crashing together again, just like the old times. The fire was still there, all it needed was somebody to take the first step and ignite it.

"Sometimes you cross my mind too, Sam," Anna shook her head and turned her attention to the window. "Then I remember how badly you hurt me. You didn't fight for us. You never intended to. I was only a temporary fun, to supply what Sofia couldn't provide you at the moment."

"She still doesn't," the CEO touched her arm, caressing it softly. "She doesn't even compare to you."

"But you still married her. This is the life you chose, and you can't change that. You don't want to change that!"

After that answer, there was nothing left to say. Sam opened the door and left the car, giving Anna one last glance, that she purposely avoided. She didn't want to say goodbye. Instead, she turned on the ignition and started driving away as fast as she could. She feared the feelings inside her, the ones she could not control. The feelings that could suddenly make her come back and fall for Sam all over again.

Tears started streaming down her face. However, she felt a lot calmer as she noticed the motel was becoming more and more distant. This time, she was able to resist.

It was almost night when she arrived at her hometown. Her mother's car wasn't in the garage. She attempted to call her cell phone, but it was out of reach.

"Anna?!" A neighbor finally noticed her presence. "Is that you?"

"Mrs. Perkins," she forced a smile. "Hey. Have you seen my mom or Jack? I've been waiting here for a while but they're not home."

"Oh dear, haven't you heard the latest news?"

Something terrible seemed to have happened to Anna's stepfather. If only she hadn't lost time with Sam, she would've known. She could've called her mother or even arrived in time.

In the hospital reception, she was informed her mother's husband had been hospitalized. Her mom should be with him in the room. Nervously, she knocked the door.

"Anna," her mom was the one to open it. She spoke in a low voice to not disturb Jack's sleep and headed outside. "I'm so glad you're here. Come with me to the cafeteria."

Between sobs, her mom told her Jack had relapsed. His cancer had returned in an advanced stage, as the exams showed. At this point, the chemo or radiotherapy sessions would have to be too aggressive and potentially lethal, with remote chances of effectiveness.

"M-Mom..." Anna couldn't hold her own tears. After all, that was the man who accepted and raised her as daughter, when her biological father abandoned her as a baby. She owned Jack part of the person she had became. Even her love for Chemistry and Science she had gotten from him. "I don't know what to say. Oh my god!"

"While he's asleep, I've been doing some research," Mrs. Schuyler showed her phone screen to her daughter. "There's an experimental treatment with a new test drug. Jack would fit all the requirements for the research but... we don't have the money."

"You can take all my economies! The amount we had saved for our trip, is it enough?"

"Not even far, darling. We're talking about some hundred thousand dollars here. We'll never raise this amount in time."

Or they could. One thought crossed Anna's mind. She quickly stood up from the table and grabbed her purse and car keys.

"I'll be right back, mom. We're going to save him, I promise."

There was still one hope. One desperate measure Anna could take.

"Please be there... please be there..." she spoke to herself as the motel where she had driven earlier that day came to her view.

Fate had a funny manner of playing with lives and bringing people back together. Sam needed help. She needed the money. That would be the most perfect business deal.

She knocked the room where the CEO was supposedly to be staying. Anxiety started to consume her. If she couldn't find Sam now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to reach her again in time.

"Anna?" The door opened. Anna had never been so happy to see that face, those eyes, before. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping you," she announced. "But it'll cost a lot of money. My time is precious and limited."

"Whatever it takes."

Anna sighed and entered the room, knowing she had a long way ahead. Battling against time, against her stepfather's illness and especially, battling against old feelings. Would she be able to resist Samantha's charms this time?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 253: That Good Angst

Previously on BnHA: The villain Ending, whose name in retrospect is hella melodramatic for a guy whose power is MAKING ROAD MARKINGS COME TO LIFE, kidnapped Natsuo and then deservedly got his ass kicked by three teenagers. Endeavor won the manga’s coveted Best Hug award, made up by me just now, and then gave one of the best monologues in the whole series, basically owning up to all his crimes and saying he doesn’t want or deserve his son’s forgiveness. And he didn’t get it either, which was excellent. Instead, he announced to his kids that he was building them a new home for them to go live in with their mother and without him. Meanwhile Katsuki was all, “btw I’ve decided on my new hero name,” and the ENTIRE FANDOM was all “!!!!” until he went on to say, “but I ain’t revealing SHIT until I’ve told it to Best Jeanist,” which caused everyone to collectively wince and awkwardly glance at each other wondering who’s going to break it to him. Uh.

Today on BnHA: hAHAHAHAHHA.

Sorry, I forgot to turn my capslock back off. Anyways, so we return to U.A. and everything is all “HAPPY NEW YEAR IIDA!” and “STILL ON ABOUT THAT UNREQUITED LOVE THING, HUH OCHAKO?” and “LOOKS LIKE THAT SCAMPISH IMP BAKUGOU IS AT IT AGAIN!” and all the usual stuff. We then have a complete switch of gears, and I seriously mean like the GEAR SWITCH TO END ALL GEAR SWITCHES, as we cut to Aizawa and Mic driving to Tartarus! Why are they driving to Tartarus you ask? Well it’s because they got a call from Naomasa and he was all “hey, so you know your deceased childhood friend from chapters 59 through 65 of Vigilantes? Well IT TURNS OUT I HAVE A FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT.” Anyway so the rest of this chapter can basically be summed up as (1) LOL SO KUROGIRI WAS REALLY SHIRAKUMO ALL ALONG, and (2) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

btw the whole reason I spoiled myself in the first place was because my dumbass id was all “WE SHOULD CHECK IF THEY MENTION THE HERO NAME” and I was like “YES” and just immediately lost all self-control. like it wasn’t an accidental click or anything; I was fully aware of what I was doing. lord knows what I would have done if I actually had been spoiled about the hero name lol. that would have been so much worse than the spoiler I actually got, so yeah. just stupid decisions all around. anyways how are you

no BnHA thumbnails on the Mangastream homepage today. must mean Kacchan didn’t make any good faces. ah well

lmao the chapter is literally titled “Shirakumo.” well I guess I wasn’t spoiled much after all. I did catch a half-glimpse (I was trying not to look; like, I had my fingers covering my eyes and was peeking through them. again, I’m not really sure what I was trying to accomplish in the first place honestly) of what seemed to be Aizawa with a shocked expression on his face though, so that’s why I was so convinced Kumo was somehow coming back from the dead or something. WE SHALL SEE

MY FORMULA 1 SON!!

lol I’m having one of those Berenstein moments. like. he didn’t always have those huge exhaust pipes running out from his sides and from either leg, right? those are just for this cover. or else something new and fancy he just added to his suit. right??

anyway so yes, Iida is the color page this week, just as we all expected from a chapter titled “Shirakumo”

“WINTER BREAK WAS OVER IN A FLASH” oh man. ain’t that always the way

wow I’ve really missed U.A. like, we’re cutting to these panels of USJ and the stadium, and it’s so fucking nostalgic geez. we weren’t even gone that long

Deku’s voiceover is talking about how they only have three months left in their “tumultuous” first year. ha. tumultuous. if Deku hadn’t met up with All Might, he could have easily fallen back on a career in PR; he’s got a gift for phrasing things diplomatically

Iida is wishing everyone a happy new year! happy new year Iida!!

he’s announcing that their class will be an action report meeting, which apparently means everyone’s gonna share what they learned over the winter break

but now he’s telling everyone to come down to Field Alpha, which Mangastream annoyingly spelled out with the Greek symbol α, forcing me to look it up because I’m sorry but I don’t speak math. ?? like what is this

now Aizawa’s sliding the door open all CRANKY because he’s MISSING HIS NAP

but Mina is all smooth like,

Mina could also have had a promising future in PR. well it’ll still serve them well in their hero careers too

oh my lord

WHAT is that FACE, Iida. just what. is that an eyebrow waggle. what the fuck. he looks like the next words out of his mouth were going to be “sliding into people’s dms”

jokes’s on you Horikoshi!! you think a panel like this will stop my “stupid sexy Iida” jokes? IT ONLY MAKES ME LOVE HIM MORE

oh? someone on the loudspeaker is calling Aizawa and summoning him to the faculty room. I wonder what this could be about. probably nothing!

now we’re cutting to the changing room and the girls are admiring Ochako’s new costume!

I’ll add an ETA later where I actually analyze the changes in her costume. right now let’s just pretend like I’m aware of what actually changed. I swear I pay attention to things. by the way, why would the suitcase get heavy? her quirk can be applied to anything can’t it?

(ETA: so the costume changes are (1) an upgrade to her gauntlets, and (2) an upgrade to her headset. so anyway that’s pretty cool, even if it was really only brought up in this chapter so that we could get that SWEET YA ROMANCE DRAMA. which I know annoys some people, but at this point I feel like Horikoshi only throws it in because he’s expected to, and the way he does it is so adorably reluctant that I can’t help but enjoy it at this point lol.)

OH MY GOD

OCHAKO YOU KEPT DEKU’S CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO YOU IN YOUR HERO COSTUME FOR GOOD LUCK, OH MY GOD. (1) YOU ARE THE LITERAL CUTEST, (2) IT’S TIMES LIKE THIS I’M GLAD I SHIP BASICALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE THIS IS A DELIGHT, and (3) MINA’S REACTION TO THIS IS ABOUT TO BE MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL TIME, SO LET’S COUNT DOWN TO IT IN 3... 2...

okay but before we click to the next page, I just need to draw everyone’s attention to the background of that Jirou panel, where I’m pretty sure that is Ochako acquiring Hagakure’s quirk in a moment of transcendent desperation, much like how parents are able to summon incredible strength in times of crisis to lift cars off of their trapped children and shit. we are witnessing the next stage of human evolution over here

-- oh fuck me

hello, Horikoshi? yes, this was supposed to be a cute moment of teens being teens and giggling over high school crushes. did you not get the memo. what are you doing here with this sucker punch of feels right to my fucking kidneys. why would you do that. why does this panel of Ochako make me want to fucking cry, I did not ask for this

(ETA: but like also, you see how he just instantly drops the subject less than a panel later lol. like “THERE’S YOUR ROMANCE PLOT, OKAY?? NOW BACK TO THE REANIMATED BRAINWASHED CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ARC.”)

meanwhile in the boy’s locker room! so apparently word has spread about Deku mastering Bloopwhip!

so Ojiro is evidently fucking ripped under that karate gi. Ojiro, this one corner of a panel with you facing away from the screen is possibly the most interesting thing you’ve ever done. have you considered what a costume change might do for your image. I’m just saying

lmao Deku

I have never in my life found the idea of Villain Deku even remotely convincing until this exact moment. jesus christ. Deku are you sure there isn’t a little piece of AFO horcrux soul in you right at this moment. just wondering. if it was Kaminari doing this, the headline for this chapter would be “KAMINARI 100% CONFIRMED THE TRAITOR” and even I would find myself hard-pressed to argue at this point

anyway, the hero we deserve is stepping in to bring him back to reality sob

(ETA: I’m not even going to check the bnha tag to see if there is discourse about this, because I already know!! because clearly this is a very serious panel which should be taken 100% seriously!! anyway I’m not even going to go here lol.)

it’s okay kids I’m already dialing 911. Kacchan, honey, come here. listen, we need to put you in a time out. I love you but you can’t just go around throwing your spiky headgear at people like a fucking tomahawk, and also what the fuck is that thing even made of jesus christ

sob is Deku actually fucking dead

and so, while the girls were having cute shoujo drama about a romantic All Might plush, over in the boy’s locker room an actual murder was going down

FSDKDJL

I can’t. stop laughing. I

and the way they’re all just staring at him and clearly have no idea what to fucking do at this point. “so should we just... leave it in, then?” lmao Horikoshi what the fuck kind of substance did you ingest before you went and drew this. I need me some of that

(ETA: and now that I’ve mostly stopped laughing, I would also just like to point out that he is essentially saying “I just had to stop thinking so hard about it and just do it”, which I’ve only been saying SINCE FOREVER, DEKU, but sure go ahead and don’t listen to me then!)

ALL MIGHT IS...

WHY, YOU ASK? WHO CARES!!

lol apparently it’s a pun. someone go over there and check to make sure this All Might isn’t actually a bunch of Mirios hidden underneath a trench coat

anyway so they’re completely unimpressed, because they’re all jaded fucking teenagers with no souls, and they’re asking where Aizawa is

is this the part where we slide right back into the angst after our brief humorous interlude with the kiddos. because I am ready. bring it

OOOOH HERE WE GO, LOOK AT THIS TENSION

SO HERE WE HAVE MIC ACTUALLY TELLING AIZAWA TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND IT’S CONFIRMED, THE WORLD IS ENDING

and look at Aizawa’s body language. arms crossed, fingers tapping anxiously, gritting his teeth. fucking Mic has to tell him to calm down. jesus christ. anyway so Aizawa angst is apparently MY DRUG you guys, and Horikoshi you can go right ahead and INJECT THAT SHIT STRAIGHT INTO MY VEINS

AHHHHHHH

OHHHHHH THAT’S GOOD. I might need someone to come and slap me in the face in another minute just to make sure I can continue here

-- HOLD UP, WHAT

THAT SOUND YOU HEAR IS THE SOUND OF MY MENTAL BRAKES SCREECHING TO A FUCKING HALT, EVERYONE HOLD THE FUCK UP WHILE I DO A QUICK MENTAL ROLL CALL OF THE VILLAIN CAST AT USJ. FUCK ME, PLEASE TELL ME HE WASN’T THE NOUMU. BUT ASIDE FROM HIM AND TOMURA, AND THE FACELESS NO-NAME VILLAINS, THAT ONLY LEAVES... OKAY MY BRAIN JUST SERIOUSLY FROZE UP WHILE PROCESSING THIS, BECAUSE NO FUCKING WAY

fuck me fuck me FUCK ME

there is no fucking way it can really be Kurogiri, can it?? Kumo didn’t have a portal quirk. but All For One, though?? but no wait because we know he didn’t have that quirk because he had to use the other teleportation one instead. John’s or whoever’s

so then the only other option is the Noumu. could this be the start of the Noumu arc at long last?! oh my godddddd I’m about to get up out of my seat and just jump around for a second to get all my nerves out. ahhhhhhh

Horikoshi knew full well what he was doing titling the chapter “Shirakumo” and then teasing us with this incredibly tense buildup, too. I have actual fucking chills

oh my god IT REALLY IS THE NOUMU ISN’T IT

I HATE AND LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SIMULTANEOUSLY, IT IS THE WEIRDEST FEELING. IT’S BOTH INVIGORATING AND TERRIFYING HOLY SHIT

I WANTED THIS. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE DARK. I WANTED IT SO BAD AND I COULDN’T WAIT FOR IT AND NOW IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING AND WHAT A FUCKING WAY TO KICK IT OFF I JUST!!!

AHHHHH

DON’T MIND ME PLEASE CONTINUE AND IGNORE ALL OF MY SILENT SCREAMING!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AIZAWA IS ABOUT TO LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND. HIS CLOSEST FRIEND WAS DESECRATED AND VIOLATED IN AN UNIMAGINABLE WAY AND TRANSFORMED INTO SOMETHING UNRECOGNIZABLE WITH ALL TRACES OF HUMANITY LOST, AND THIS WHOLE TIME HE THOUGHT HE WAS FUCKING DEAD. THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE A THERAPY FOR THAT, PEOPLE. THAT IS THE KIND OF ANGST THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM

ANYWAY, SO THERE’S THAT SHOCKED AIZAWA FACE I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF YESTERDAY, NOW WITH HORRIFIC CONTEXT, AND IF ANYONE NEEDS ME I’LL JUST BE HERE IN THE CORNER SETTING MY KEYBOARD TO PERMANENT CAPSLOCK, AND UPDATING MY SEXUAL ORIENTATION TO “THE FUCKED-UP AIZAWA ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER” BECAUSE THAT’S APPARENTLY WHAT IT IS AND ALL THIS TIME I NEVER KNEW

OH GODDDDD

BRB UPDATING MY ORIENTATION AGAIN TO “MIC’S COMFORTING HAND ON AIZAWA’S SHOULDER AS AIZAWA STRUGGLES TO HOLD ON TO THE LAST OF HIS COMPOSURE WHILE TRYING AND FAILING TO PROCESS THIS UNFATHOMABLY HEINOUS THING THAT’S ABOUT TO BE REVEALED”

(ETA: and also!! the fact that either Mic’s hand is shaking, or Aizawa is shaking so badly that it’s affecting Mic’s hand on his shoulder too! either way how the hell am I not literally dead after reading this chapter, I don’t even know.)

WAIT WHAT!!!!

THE CORE?! SO WAIT, IS IT KUROGIRI THEN??? OR WHAT?!

(ETA: I know I’m just inserting random commentary all over the place at this point, but like, can we also talk about how Naomasa looks like he hasn’t slept in eleven years?? this is taking such a toll on his soul here and it’s heartbreaking.)

OH MY GOD!!!!!

I WISH I COULD BETTER DESCRIBE THIS FEELING BECAUSE IT’S REALLY SOMETHING!! I’M SO EXCITED AND AT THE SAME TIME FULLY AWARE OF HOW I’M DELIGHTING IN THE PAIN OF THESE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, SO IT’S LIKE THIS GUILTY SADISTIC GLEE AND AT THE SAME TIME SHOCK AND EXCITEMENT AND DAMN NEAR A KIND OF ELATION AT BEING FULLY TAKEN FOR A RIDE BY THIS EPIC FUCKING TWIST. IT’S GOOD SHIT

SDLKFJASLKDFJ;LKS

(ETA: so if they can trace quirk factors like this, they should be able to do it with the other Noumu they have in captivity, and also with any dead Noumus they’ve collected as well, yes? including the one that Stain killed a few months back? like, don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to calculate the Six Degrees of Bakuangst for this plotline seeing as my brain, as ever, is focused on one thing and one thing only.

and so if they have managed to ID some of the Noumus, would that info maybe be on the Hero Network? meaning Endeavor would have access? would the interns then have access too? or if not, is his password something easily guessable, like Shouto’s birthday or something? will I ever stop running out of hypothetical scenarios along these lines? doesn’t seem likely as of now.)

“SEVERAL DIFFERENT QUIRK FACTORS” HOLY SHIT, AFO. THAT MANIAC. THIS WHOLE TIME MY RESPECTED DOCTOR OF MEDICINE WAS REALLY A HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT WHO GOT CONKED ON THE HEAD BY SOME FALLING ROCKS ONE DAY. THE GRANDDADDY OF ALL TWISTS!! THIS TWIST WAS CONCEIVED IN THE BOOK OF GENESIS!!

AND BY THE WAY, THANK YOU AGAIN TO THAT ANON, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT IS FUCKING RAW. ONCE I FINALLY COME DOWN FROM THIS BIZARRE HIGH I’M GOING TO CRY FOR AIZAWA BECAUSE HE IS HURTING SO BAD RIGHT NOW AND I CAN’T EVEN, SOMEONE SAVE HIMMMM

WELL FOLKS. THERE IT IS. HORIKOSHI FINALLY HOOKING US UP WITH THAT GOOD ANGST. THE PLOT THAT WAS PROMISED. THE ANGST THAT WAS AVOWED. YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE AIZAWA SHOUTA WAS SHIGARAKI TOMURA’S FUCKING UNCLE THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME. HOLY SHIT

AND YOOOO I JUST HAD A BUNCH OF THOUGHTS THAT I CAN BARELY EVEN PROCESS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THIS REVELATION OPENS UP SO MANY NEW DOORS NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN THOUGH. BUT LIKE, IF AFO AND UJIKO WERE IN THE BUSINESS OF TAKING CHILDREN’S CORPSES AND REVIVING THEM AND INFUSING THEM WITH UPGRADED QUIRKS AND NO MEMORIES OF THEIR PRIOR LIVES, THEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT IF A CERTAIN TODOROKI SIBLING REALLY DID FUCKING DIE AND HAS ACTUALLY BEEN A PUPPET OF AFO’S THIS ENTIRE TIME OH MY GOD. THIS CHAPTER IS JUST!!!

(ETA: yeah I actually have a lot of thinking to do about this one, because holy shit. I mean there must be a reason we’re getting this reveal directly on the heels of the Todoangst Arc with all of its talk about Touya and how dead he is, right? god I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. this stupid manga!!)

AND AIZAWA’S FACE. THE WAY HE’S COVERING HIS MOUTH AS THOUGH TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF FROM BEING SICK. THE MAN WHO PRIDES HIMSELF ON HIS RATIONALITY IS SO COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED BY EMOTION THAT HE’S STRUGGLING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER. THIS IS THE DEFINING WOUND OF HIS CHILDHOOD, RETURNING ALL OF A SUDDEN TO STAB HIM RIGHT IN THE HEART ALL OVER AGAIN WITH A FRESH NEW KIND OF HORROR. MIC, YOU’D BETTER BE THERE FOR HIM AFTER THIS, BECAUSE HE’S GOING TO FUCKING BREAK DOWN IN THE CAR ON THE RIDE HOME OR SOMETHING PROBABLY, AND HE NEEDS YOU, AND YOU PROBABLY NEED HIM TOO, AND FUCK

I DON’T HAVE SPACE FOR ALL THIS ANGST IN MY HOUSE!!! BUT LIKE HELL AM I GIVING ANY OF IT BACK, IT’S MINE NOW AND I’M KEEPING IT!! I WILL FUCKING RENT OUT A STORAGE LOCKER FOR THE EXCESS!! I WILL HOARD IT ALL LIKE A GREEDY DRAGON IN MY CAVE. THIS ANGST IS MY CHILD NOW. FUCKING SUBSCRIBED, GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love you, Chapter 153

Chapter Summary - Danielle accompanies Tom to Ben's award presentation where she and Tom enjoy their friends' company and discuss minor differences between Britain and Ireland.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

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

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

Right, little things that need explaining.

Taoiseach is the Irish for Prime Minister. Our one is gay, yes and half immigrant Indian but is leading the right-wing party which thankfully is only centre right and not extreme right (little mercies) and is an utterly classist wanker so yeah, not the loveliest man for those reasons, not his sexuality or race.

We democratically voted for gay marriage rights, being the first country to do so by popular vote in the world a few years ago.

We also repealed an amendment this year (yes, you can repeal amendments for those who are obsessed with such things) that held the life of the unborn as the same as the mother's and will mean elective abortion facilities in Ireland.

We have the lowest divorce rates in Europe and no, it's not in any way related to Catholicism.

And yes, Irish engagements are between 1 and 2 years normally.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

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

Danielle laughed into her hand as Tom made a comment regarding Benedict's incapability to say the word 'penguin’ correctly. Sophie was in a similar state, but Ben gave a warning glare as he chuckled at his friend's words.

The South Bank Sky Awards had nominated Ben for the Outstanding Achievement Award and Tom was the one to present him with it, leading to a fortnight of Tom writing and rewriting a few sentences to say while presenting it. Danielle knew the speech as well as he did in the end and the prompt cards were all but redundant, but still, Tom kept them with him, as though he felt to have them is to guarantee he would not need them.

It had been Ben that had asked Danielle if she would go before even Tom had a chance to ask her. That startled Danielle slightly but she accepted and as a result, she and Tom were photographed as they had been at events before but there was something different to this event, the media had more access to Tom and his significant other, the woman they so desperately wanted to know more of than they had ever had before. To many media outlets, it was the confirmation of the statement that it was as pure as they wanted it to be. The internet's boyfriend, a prince charming, picking the girl next door (literally) over the glamorous and gorgeous pop princess. The fact that a meeting of minds is so much more important and makes for a more true relationship. Others wanted to see if there were cracks in the relationship, if it was all for show, after all, Taylor had a solid boyfriend and was happy, so to them, Tom had to show the same and this woman, this ordinary and in their opinion, boring and blood-sucking woman, was nothing more than a tender rub at his ego, even after almost two years. No matter what the reason, the unbridled access to the pair for the evening meant that it was a new experience for Danielle, one that Tom, Ben and Sophie wanted to assist her through.

When Tom read his speech, she felt the camera on herself as well as on Ben and Sophie for their reactions, she laughed, both at Tom's words and Ben's reaction, she acted, as best she could, as though they were in each others company as they had done many times before and that the wider world was not watching.

Overall, the evening was a pleasant affair. When Danielle went to the bathroom, Tom spoke on with their friends, knowing that she was fine. Upon her return, he noted a slightly bigger smile on her face. “Everything alright?”

“I got a text from Siobhan, Laura and Evan got engaged.” She informed him. “I'll have to send them a card and gift.”

“Okay, that's….which cousin is that? Is that the one with the baby?”

“Yes…why? You can't say her name, can you?”

“No one can.” Tom scoffed. “It's an impossible name.”

“Is it an Irish name? It can't be harder than Saoirse, I remember working with her on Atonement, the first time I saw her name, I thought someone sneezed on a keyboard.” Ben commented.

“Write that name down.” Tom requested. “See if Ben and Sophie get it, they won't.”

Danielle laughed and did as requested, then handed it to Ben who just stared at it. “I…. that's harder than Saoirse.” He conceded as he handed it to Sophie who just tried to sound it out to herself. “I bet it's something normal or different sounding to its spelling, isn't it?”

“Key-lin.” Danielle sounded out.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Ben exclaimed. “That makes no sense, how is the child ever supposed to say that?”

“Your opinion on words doesn't count, you can't even say penguin.” Danielle dismissed, earning laughs from Tom and Sophie as Ben stared at her.

“Wow, she went for the jugular.” Sophie laughed.

“Unbelievable.” Ben scowled.

Tom rubbed Danielle's hand as she looked somewhat apologetically at Ben, though there was a slight smile to it also. On feeling Tom rub her, she urged to face him again, smiling brightly. “So, when's the wedding?”

“They'll be looking at venues soon, they'll probably choose Galway for the wedding, the norm is the bride's parish in Ireland. It'll be a while yet, their hoping for the few days between Christmas and New Year's. I've been warned to try and plan to be free.”

“So a few months?” Danielle gave him a peculiar look. “What?”

“You would have more chance of seeing Santa than getting a Christmas time wedding venue in Ireland six months out, it's next Christmas, in 2019.” She laughed.

“Isn't that a little long?” Sophie thought back to her own wedding, recalling her mother asking her to consider doing it sooner, instead of her and Ben insisting on doing it on Valentine's Day.

“No. It's the norm for Irish engagements to be between a year and two years long. I had noticed you lot tend to rush things along a bit.”

“Well, we like to marry before we have to use zimmer frames to get down the aisle of the church.” Ben chuckled.

“Ah yeah, joke all you want. You lot are in the top ten for the highest divorce rates in the world and we have the lowest in Europe.” Danielle retorted smugly.

“I...that can't be right.” Sophie took out her phone and checked. “They do.” She declared having gotten her answer. “The Republic of Ireland have the lowest divorce rates...wow. Is it hard to get a divorce there?”

“Not an overnight thing but not too difficult, no. We just have long relationships and long engagements and if you haven't decided to split up or murder one another in that time, it lasts usually. Either that or we are way too complacent for our own good.” Danielle shrugged.

“It's not some “Catholic” thing, is it?” Ben asked curiously.

“Well, we were the first country to vote via referendum for gay marriage and it won quite comfortably, our Taoiseach is gay, and in May anti-abortion laws were voted to be overturned, that's not exactly very “Catholic”, is it?” Danielle explained. “Catholic Ireland is dead and gone.”

“You're Catholic though, right?” Sophie asked, having definitely heard Danielle refer to Catholicism before.

“My parents had me christened, I had to do the whole white communion dress thing, yes but outside of family masses, I haven't set foot in a church since my dad died. I am as about as devout a Catholic as I am vegan. I may interact with elements of the idea, but eating some broccoli doesn't constitute my being such, same as my Catholicism, an occasional mass means shite all. I couldn't remember a rosary if I tried, bar the ten Hail Mary's part.” She scoffed.

Tom listened carefully to her words, recalling that bar going to Ireland for her parents’ masses, he had noticed Danielle did indeed ignore most aspects of Catholicism, bar swearing using the name of God and whatnot. “So that's the norm for Irish people, waiting a whole year?”

“Yes, apart from saving for weddings being expensive, you won't get your choice of venue or band if you leave it too long either. Anywhere worth its salt is booked solid several months to a year in advance, and with the time Laura is looking at, don't be surprised if it is changed to the Spring or 2020 if they want Christmas and can't get it.” She shrugged.

Tom simply thought over her words before looking to Ben who seemed to be studying his reaction to them.

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

Unexpected Surprise - Part 1 (Liam x MC)

Pairing: Liam x MC

Summary: …As much as you want to plan your life, it has a way of surprising you with unexpected things that will make you happier than you originally planned!

Word Count: 2,003

Masterlist

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

Tags aren’t working so I will be tagging in the comments.

Eight months had passed since Riley left Cordonia.

Eight months had passed since she last seen Liam

Eight months had passed since she last spoke to any of her friends from Cordonia.

The first few months after she returned, she went through a rough period, where she wouldn’t leave the apartment, she hardly spoke to anyone at all. She spent her time eating and sleeping, when she returned, she sold all of the dresses she had bought over the time she had spent there, adding her savings onto that, she managed to go the first couple of months without worry, after that money ran out, she had no choice but to find herself a job. Getting back out into the world was tough. She started a job at a local elementary school. What a lot of people didn’t know was that her job at the bar was meant to just get her by until she finished her teaching degree and got a job in a school. It was just a few weeks after her graduation that she had met Liam.

“Good morning Miss Brookes” one of her pupils beamed as she walked through the door Riley held open for the class to enter the classroom. For the last Six months Riley had been teaching a 1st grade class.

“Good morning Elizabeth, do you have your thinking hat on?”

“of course, Miss Brookes”

“good that’s what I like to hear!” Riley grinned as she closed the door then made her way to her desk. she chuckled as the children all yelled and played.

“Alright come on, everyone settle down…shh shhh…Alright thank you” she smiled as they all took their seats, bursting with energy. The past week, the class had been talking about languages, when one of them asked Riley if she spoke any other languages, their faces lit up when she told them she spoke French. When Riley took French at school, she would walk out of the building and not remember a thing that she had learned, but when she travelled to France with Liam and the rest of their friends, she fell in love with the country. She could remember every word Liam taught her. she remembered it like it was yesterday, when the two of them sat late into the evening in Riley's hotel balcony, they were both curled up on the bench. She had asked Liam to teach her some French and he was more than happy to oblige. Whenever he got the chance, he would teach her bits and pieces, by the time she left Cordonia, she was very well rehearsed in the language, she had studies books, everything she could get her hands on, she read front to back. The class had asked her, if she would teach them some of the language, which she happily agreed to. She had spent the last week putting together a lesson plan for the day, they would be tasting French food, learning the language, learning about the culture.

“Bonjour à toute la classe” she started

“does anyone know what that means?” she asked, then smiled at the first little boy that put his hand up.

“Oui, Jamie?”

“does it mean…good morning?”

“Bravo! Jamie, that’s right, its means good morning class”

“Miss Brookes…how do you say…good night?” Little Nathan called from his seat.

“I’ll tell you if you promise to put your hand up next time”

“I promise”

“okay…to say good night you say… Bonne Nuit! can you all repeat that? Bonne Nuit”

“Bonne Nuit!”

“Bravo!!”

As the day grew on, the children got more and more excited about the new skill they were learning. Once it reached their breaktime Riley had set out a spread of some of her favourite French foods.

Riley smiled from the head of the table as she watched each child pick at their plates, being very vocal about what they liked and didn’t like.

“Miss Brookes would you like some of my croissant?” one of the six-year olds asked

“that’s very kind of you, louis but I’m okay thank you.”

Riley sighed quietly as her hand rested on her stomach as she felt an ache. The same ache she had felt on and off for the past few months, she had assumed it was the usual cramps she would get when she was getting her period, which the last few months had been even more infrequent than usual. Riley had always had an odd cycle, so she didn’t think anything of it. as the day moved on, the cramping started to die down a little.

Over the next few weeks she had gotten bursts of aches in her lower back and her stomach. Nothing major, just uncomfortable aches.

It was late one evening she had not long got back from work, she had made herself some food, but ended up throwing most of it away after not being able to eat it. she had been in pain all day. at this point she was getting a little suspicious, maybe she was coming down with something? She decided that running back might be the best solution to her aches, maybe the warm water would help soothe her pain. After spending a good forty-five minutes in the warm back she climbed out headed for her bedroom. She pulled on some gym shorts and a vest before climbing into bed.

Riley was jolted awake when she felt a shooting pain in her abdomen. She sat up instantly her hand shooting to her stomach.

“oh my god…what the hell is that!!” she groaned “Shit that hurts!” she cried when the pain became too much. She had never had cramps like this…this was a whole new kind of pain. When she tried to get up from the bed, another pain shot through her, causing her to stumbled and fall. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she frantically searched for her mobile that was sitting on the bedside table. As soon as she found it, her shaky hands dialled 911

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance, I’m in excruciating pain, I don’t know what it is, it’s a shooting pain in my abdomen”

“okay, what’s your address?”

“I’m in apartment, 2, Payton crescent.”

“okay, and what’s your name?”

“It’s Riley…Riley Brookes”

“Okay miss Brookes, I’m going to get you help as quick as I can, an ambulance is on the way, can you get to the door”

“yes” she gasped as another pain shot through her. unable to stand, she crawled to the front door, turning the key so the paramedics would be able to get in.

“the doors unlocked” she informed the operator

“okay, just hold tight Miss Brookes, help is on the way.”

Just a few minutes later, the paramedics came through the door. Once the operator knew Riley was in safe hands they hung up.

“Miss Brookes, can you show me where it hurts?” one of the paramedics asked. Riley lifted her shirt, placing her hand on her lower stomach. “all around here”

“you gotta help me, it hurts so much” she cried

“it’s alright, we’re gonna get you to the hospital”

Once they got Riley into the ambulance, they headed off to the nearing hospital. They asked her various questions on the journey trying to figure out what was wrong. After the answers she gave them, they decided she should have an ultrasound when she arrived at the hospital to check her appendix. Once they got her situated in a cubical, once of the nurses came by to do her ultrasound.

“Miss Brookes how are you feeling?” the Young Woman asked as she pulled the machine over and sat down in the seat in front of it.

“Terrible”

“alright, well we’re going to try and help you feel better again, alright, I’m gonna put this gel on your stomach, brace yourself because it will be really cold” the nurse squeezed some of the gel onto Riley's stomach before placing the doppler on top then moving it around to have a look and see what was causing the pain. Riley’s eyebrows knitted together as she watched the woman look at the screen with bulging eyes.

*buBum…buBum…buBum*

“is everything okay?” Riley asked.

“Miss Brookes-”

“call me Riley”

“Riley…when was the last time you had unprotected sex?”

“oh gee…now you’re asking…probably around eight and a half months ago”

“Riley…do you hear that sound?”

Riley nodded confirmed she could indeed hear the noise.

“I’ll be back in a moment” the nurse quickly made her way out of the room, running back in just a few seconds later with a doctor on her tail. The two looked over the screen, whispering to each other.

“is something wrong?” Riley gasped as she felt another pain.

“Miss Brooks, have you been feeling nauseous, Fatigued? Hungry often?”

“not really, I mean, ive had these pains on and off for the past few months, but I always got them around the time I was due my period, so I assumed they were cramps”

The doctor, asked Riley to sit with her legs open, so that she could do a physical examination.

“Miss Brookes” the doctor smiled

“yeah?”

“Your Pregnant”

“I can’t be…I haven’t slept with anyone in like eight months”

“Miss Brookes…you have a full-term baby and she’s ready to come out, you are already seven centimetres…you’re in active labour”

“no this has got to be a mistake, I don’t have a bump, I haven’t had any other symptoms, ive still had my periods”

“I’m afraid it’s true miss Brookes, bleeding during pregnancy can be perfectly normal, actually a lot of women mistake spotting as their period but actually it’s the pregnancy, it’s very rare, but ive seen it happen before, if the babies sitting further into your back, like you, a woman can go a full nine months without a real bump.”

“But…” The tears fell down her face.

“I can’t be…”

“how much weight have you put on over the past eight to nine months?”

“a little bit” she blushed not wanting to admit she had infact put on a little bit of weight.

“okay…well Miss Brookes, we’re going to have to move you down to the Delivery ward, this baby is ready to come out”

“Tonight?!” Riley panicked

“most likely”

Once they got Riley moved to the delivery ward, they started to connect her to all types of machines. She sighed as she looked at her phone sitting beside the hospital bed.

“Riley, can we call anyone for you? Maybe the father? a friend or family member?”

“no, it’s okay…I think I should call him…” she sighed “I’m nervous” she frowned as she looked at the nurse.

“was it a boyfriend?”

“kind of…we were very much in love but…we weren’t in a relationship as such.”

“what do you mean?”

“long story short, he was in an arranged marriage that he very much didn’t want to be in, we were going to get married but, something happened and he had to get engaged to this other woman…we tried for months to figure out a way to be together, but eventually it came time for the wedding, I told him, I can’t be with you if your married to her, he was willing to give up everything for me , his family business, his home, but I couldn’t let him do it…I know this phone call will turn his life upside down… I know he would drop everything to be here…if he found out and I hadn’t called him, it would break his heart”

“well, I think you should make the call”

“I can’t not” she sighed as she lifted her phone

“could I have a moment?” she asked the nurse, the young woman nodded then headed outside. Riley scrolled to his number then let out a deep breath as she pressed call.

The phone rang just three times before his voice came through the phone.

“hello? Riley? Riley is that you?”

“Hi, Liam” she whispered

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 3: An Unexpected Journey

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: DRAMA, panic attacks, mentions of past death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Heimdall (Marvel) Additional Tags: Loki is Impatient, Loki is Kind Of A Jerk, Reader is Impertinent, Reader is Kind Of A Jerk. Hey Everybody Makes Mistakes Summary: Reader is afflicted with a mysterious illness that has slowly been killing her. Salvation comes, but the price is high.

“What are you doing here _____?”  Your manager demanded.  You flinched, and concentrated on looking healthy.  You knew you were failing, despite all the makeup you’d put on to hide your ill health. She marched right up to you and tried to take a box of frozen, unbaked sandwich roll dough out of your shaking hands. You held on as tightly as you could.

“I’ve gotta work.” You said, voice small and weak. “Gotta make my rent.”

“I didn’t schedule you today.” She said tersely. You shrugged.

“I traded with Anette.” You’d pleaded with Anette. You’d lied to Anette, told her you were feeling so much better. You weren’t, but you were pretty sure you would feel so much worse if you got evicted.

You were sick. You were too sick to be doing your job, honestly, but at least you weren’t contagious. No one knew what was wrong with you. You’d paid doctors way too much money, just for them to give you clashing diagnosis, and prescribe medicines you couldn’t afford.

You had finally gotten one to admit that they had no idea what was actually wrong with you, but you knew what was wrong. You had been inflicted with a slow, wasting death. You had grabbed a vengeful god by the hand, and intended to demand something of him. No wonder he had cursed you.

That’s what the thing on your hand was: a curse, branded into your skin, a punishment for your insolence. You had made Tara promise not to tell anyone what had actually happened back in the tower, and whenever anyone asked about it, you just told them you had gotten very drunk when you were in New York, and had decided to get a body modification. Your manager didn’t care about it, since it was so easily covered up by the gloves you were required to wear.

What she did care about, was your dropping performance, and your failing health. Working in a bakery, even a tiny, grocery store bakery, required a certain amount of vigilance and effort, and over the past six months, you had slowly lost your grip on both of those things. Much like you were losing your grip on the box of frozen dough.

You set the box down on the counter, and began arranging the dough on a large sheet pan. You only dropped a few of them, and none of those hit the floor. Your manager followed you, hands on her hips.

“_____, I can’t allow this. You are definitely still sick. Both HR and the Health Department will be down on me like a ton of bricks if I let you work when you’re sick like this.”

“I can stand, and I can use my hands.” You protested. “What more do you need?”

“A competent worker!” She snapped. You knew it was only frustration. She liked you as much as a manager was allowed. She wouldn’t fire you for this, since you hadn’t done anything against the rules. But corporate might fire you, if you missed any more shifts on account of being sick.

Beyond the looming threat of homelessness and not being able to pay your bills, the loss of your job would spell the loss of your last remaining anchor to other human beings. Tara checked up on you when she could, and sent you texts every day, but she had her own job and her own life. Your father, likewise, still had to travel a lot for his own job. When you turned to your online communities for help with understanding what had happened to you, they quickly came together to discover that the man you had grabbed in the tower was none other than the outcast Asgardian prince, Loki, the scourge of New York, an extremely controversial figure who, five years ago, had tried to take over the world. He led an alien army into New York and caused terrible death and destruction. Now, he showed up more and more often in Avengers custody. Some surmised that it was some kind of rehabilitation program, especially now that Asgard was being rebuilt in Iceland.

You hadn’t known any of these things, and you didn’t get much chance to learn more. Considering you compromised, the communities had banned you, and blocked you entirely. Finding communities that were more friendly to the idea of Loki was no walk in the park either; most of those catered to a particular type of person you considered pretty damn creepy. They didn’t have what you needed, but they did have lots of…desires. And pictures, so at least you’d been able to confirm that the man from the tower was indeed Loki, brother of Thor.

So now you were nearly alone, your only reliable point of contact was your job, and you might be on the brink of losing that as well. That would leave the rest of your presumably short life with nothing but the torment of your dreams.

That was part of the curse, these terrible dreams. They stole your strength and haunted your waking hours, always the same. There was a soft, velvety darkness that you wanted so badly to sink into. It was rest, glorious rest. It was gentleness, stillness, quiet and peace. It was everything your body and mind desperately wanted. And he was there to deny you, every night he denied you that peace. He dragged you away from that welcoming darkness, fought to keep you from its hypnotic draw. He would never let you rest, like a demon, slowly draining you of your strength and health. He bore the mark he had inflicted you with, flaunting it like an insult to you.

You wished you could go back, wished you could apologize.  That you could tell him you simply hadn’t recognized him with his hair grown out, without the armor, without the horns. Without the alien invaders. You hadn’t meant any offence.

You also wished you could yell. Scream your anger and swing your fists. A little touch on the hand was no reason to do this to someone! You were just an ordinary woman who had made a small mistake. You didn’t deserve this! If you ever saw him again, you’d give him proper cause to curse you.

You heard a sound then, like a freight truck barreling down a street too small for it, like a hurricane wind. You shouldn’t be able to hear any of those things this far inside the building. The world trembled, and a burst of brightness outshone even the neon lights.

“The hell was that?” Your manager demanded. “Ladies, are you okay?” You and your coworkers chimed in with soft affirmatives. “Okay. We need to stay put and-“

The sound of screams began floating back from the entrance of the store.

“Nevermind.” She said. “Get to the back room, and out the emergency exit. Stay together.”

She led the little group of you out between the displays of cinnamon rolls and cornbread, all of you crouching low. Your hand ached, as if the mark was being pulled from inside. That couldn’t be a good sign. Nothing had made it react before, not for months and months, not since the initial cursing.

The world around you seemed to lose some of its reality. Everything moved slowly. You felt hot. There was a loud, heavy throbbing in your head, and you collapsed against a stand full of cupcakes, unable to stand by yourself any longer.

So this was how it ended. You finally pushed too hard, and now this sickness was going to claim you among the cupcakes. You never thought you would die at work, but at least this way your body wouldn’t molder in your little apartment for a week, before Tara or your father finally found you.

“_____, what are you doing?” Your manager hissed, and took your hand. Agony shot up your arm, drawing a rough cry from you. “Oh my god, _____, are you okay? Come on, we’ve got to go!”

One of your coworkers screamed. You propped yourself up on one elbow and looked where she was pointing, terrified of what you might see.

He strode purposefully out of the produce section, and your world plunged into frigid horror.

Foreign armor. Dark leather and gleaming metal, just like all the footage you had watched, over and over again.

No.

Shining golden horns, curving a foot above his forehead, the silhouette unmistakable.

No.

The entire loss prevention department surrounded him, shouting, but unable to do anything. They weren’t equipped to deal with anybody more dangerous than the occasional shoplifter, not this. This was never supposed to happen. He pushed right passed them, paying no attention. His eyes locked on yours, wearing the smile of a demon.

No!

Your manager tugged your hand urgently, sending spikes of pain up your arm, causing you to collapse further. Cupcakes scattered as you hit the floor. From this vantage point, he looked even bigger, some kind of giant, impossible to stop.

Your manager released your hand and ran, just as he reached down and hauled you to your feet. You couldn’t even find it in you to be mad at her for abandoning you. She had kids at home. You had no one.

Besides, he had you in his grip now. You were beyond saving.

As he set you back to standing, the fever clouding your brain began to clear and strength returned to your limbs. You drew a deep breath, and it was like expelling sickness from your lungs. You felt almost good. Even with your coworkers retreating as fast as they could, with screaming customers rushing past, with Loss Prevention shouting and trying to assure you that everything was going to be okay, and standing in the far too strong grasp of the entire planet’s number one enemy, you felt better than you had in half a year.

“Ah, there it is.” He murmured, still completely ignoring all the shouting and demands. “Looks like I was right.”

You turned slowly to look up at him, stared him straight in the eyes. They looked so normal.

Then you smashed the heel of your palm upwards into his nose with all of your returned strength.

His head did not snap back, his nose did not break, his grip on you did not loosen in the least. He did look just a little surprised, but nothing else that was supposed to happen, happened. You really shouldn’t have given up your self-defense courses. But you hadn’t been able to afford them, and could they really teach you how to fight a god anyway?

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment you thought your head was going to roll. Then he burst into derisive laughter.

“Oh! She has spirit!” He exclaimed. “Not much common sense, though. Disappointing.”

“Not here to impress you!” You began to struggle, now that you knew you could. He wrapped one arm around your throat and pulled you flat against him.

“Heimdall.” He called, a word you didn’t recognize. It must have been some kind of magic, because seconds later, a flash of multicolored light blinded you, and a feeling of weightless set your stomach twisting.

For a few seconds your world was flight and light, then the sky seemed to spit you out onto a wide green field.

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Too far north again. We really must get that fixed.”

You saw men in the distance, one approaching at great speed. Loki swore quietly and released you. You dashed immediately. You heard him swear again, but only pushed yourself faster. You could see a river just a few dozen yards away, and you were a very good swimmer.

“Not that way!” He shouted, not far enough behind you as far as you were concerned. No way were you going to stop.

The ground beneath your feet gave way, toppling you forward. Within moments you were engulfed in sucking, freezing mud. What the hell was this? Quicksand? Quickmud? A National Geographic in the doctor’s office spoke of bog mummies found in Europe, but there was nothing like that in Iowa. Just where were you now?

Loki dragged you out of the mud before you could sink entirely, just as someone bellowed his name behind you.

“Oh good. You’re here. A proper welcoming party.” He said evenly in the face of his enraged brother. “I assume Heimdall tattled?”

“Loki, what have you done?” Thor demanded. “I told you to wait! Just a few days! You really couldn’t give it just a few days?”

“There was no time!” He argued. “She was dying when I found her. Tell him.” He shoved you forward. You tried to run for it again, but he caught you before you got more than a few steps. Taking you solidly by the shoulders, he leaned down and looked you right in your mud-smeared face.

“If you try to run again, I will let the land devour you.” He threatened.

“Went to a lot of trouble to kidnap me, just to let me die.” You snapped.

He sneered. “I’ve been known to change my mind on less than a whim.”

You looked at Thor, who shrugged slightly as if to say it was certainly possible. But Thor would help you, wouldn’t he? He would save you from this monster. Wouldn’t he?

Then why wasn’t he doing it?

“Please.” You pleaded quietly. Thor did nothing.

Loki took your chin in one hand and turned your head back to him.

“No.” He said. “You don’t look at him. You look at me, and you listen. You were mere steps from death, and I have saved you. Twice.” He wiped some of the mud from your cheek, shaking it off his fingers with obvious distaste.

“You’re the one who did this to me!” You shouted.

“I did not throw you into that bog.” He said.

“No, but you brought me here! And you cursed me in the first place!” You were aware that you shouldn’t be yelling at someone who was pretty much holding all of the cards, but one of Earth’s mightiest heroes was just right there, and he would help you eventually.

“I did no such thing-“ He began.

“Bullshit! You burned my hand back in the Avenger’s Tower, just because I touched you! And I’m sorry for that, but you went way overboard, cursing me with a slow death and constant nightmares like that! There was no call to go that far!”

He looked taken off guard for just one moment. “Nightmares? They were nightmares to you?”

“You didn’t even tell her what was going on, did you?” Thor accused. “Do you have any idea how much heat we are going to take for this?”

“You knew?” You shouted at him. “You knew he was doing this?”

Thor shook his head. “No, I was only just notified-“

“And the tower?” You continued. “When he cursed me, why didn’t you do anything?”

“It’s not a curse!” Loki protested. “Look, it’s on me too.” He held out his hand, but you completely ignored him.

“You were just letting me die! You were there when it happened, you saw it happen, and you didn’t even check to see what was going on!” Your temper was completely enflamed; you were shouting in the faces of gods. It was idiotic, but once you had started, half a year of stress and pain and fear came boiling out and you couldn’t stop. Loki was still trying to say something, but your anger was loud in your ears, drowning him out. “I know you don’t know me, but isn’t handling him part of your job? You brought him back here, you let him back onto the world. Why are you just standing there? Why haven’t you done anything to save me from this monster?”

Your voice rang over the field as your words reached their end, all of the bile poured out. They were both just looking at you while you caught your breath. A tiny trickle of worry wormed into your chest. You’d gone too far, hadn’t you? There had to be some kind of reason Thor hadn’t swooped in to rescue you. He was a king, he had so much to do. You were some nobody from the middle of nowhere. Insignificant. Regret grew behind the worry.

“I’m sorry-“ You began. Loki’s hand cupped your cheek; very gently snaked around to cradle the back of your head. Your breath caught. No one had touched you like that in years.

Then you saw the ice in his eyes, felt his fingers clench in your hair, and it snapped you right out of it.

“I have shared in your suffering.” He said. “You aren’t alone in this.” The words would have been comforting, if they hadn’t been said in such a threatening tone. If he hadn’t been wrenching your hair. “You have struck me.  You have disrespected me. You have insulted me and my family. Now you will listen to me. This-“ He held his right palm in front of your face, displaying the exact same mark you had. “-is an unknown affliction. I did not curse you with it. What fool would cast a curse that affected himself as well? That draining poison that stole your strength did the same to me. Ask him. He saw it happening.”

He turned your head forcibly to look at Thor, who held his hands up. “Okay, let’s calm down now. Brother, be careful.”

“You felt stronger the instant I touched you, didn’t you? Yes, you did. Strong enough to fight. Strong enough to run. When I first saw you, you could no longer stand on your own, and now look at you. Throwing tantrums in the faces of gods. That was me, that was because I came and rescued you. There was no time to explain. You were going to die, right there among your baked goods. I prevented that from happening.”

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was too tight. He felt it though.

“You need more proof? What about this then? What happens when I do this?” He took your marked hand in his, again seeming gentle, except for the fact that you could not move away.

The instant your bare palms came into contact, you felt the mark react. Like flipping a switch to power up a generator, a buzz of power rushed up your arm, trailing glowing runes in its wake. Just like back in the tower, you felt rooted to the spot, though Loki pulled you forward to press his forehead against yours, to get right into your personal space. Runes coursed over his cheek, infected his eye with their glow. The sight in your left eye became blurry, and you knew it was happening to you again too. It didn’t hurt this time, but it was overwhelming. A feeling of being filled up, like having too much blood, like your skin was too tight, and you needed to shed it. It robbed you of sense, of any thought other than getting out of your binding skin and becoming bigger than you ever had before.

“Do you feel that?” He asked through labored breaths. “I knew the instant I touched you that proximity was key. Too far apart for too long, and our lives drain away. But close up, we revitalize each other.” You saw light escape his mouth, unable to be contained even by him. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying now, unfamiliar power overtaking your mind. You were shaking uncontrollably by now, your heart hammering your ribs.

“Enough, Loki!” Thor grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him away. “She can’t take this! Let go!”

Loki was drawn away from you, but kept tight hold on your hand, fingers laced with yours.

“Not until she understands!” He snarled. But Thor again took your wrists, and fully separated you.

You tumbled to the ground, groaning and nearly senseless. Thor wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, partly to hold him up, and partly to hold him back. He was scolding Loki fiercely, though you could barely make out the words. You lay back on the grass and let the world spin around you.

Moments passed, and then Thor knelt beside you.

“I am so sorry about this.” He said, scooping you up, and handing you over to Loki, who carried you effortlessly, despite your being dead weight. “You were not supposed to arrive here this way. But you were in danger, and we are going to take care of you. And Loki isn’t going to do that again, is he?”

Loki grimaced, but nodded. “I might have gone a bit overboard. Might. But if this thing is a curse, it affects me as well. I will get to the bottom of it. Until then, yes, we will ‘take care’ of you. I suppose it’s only fair.”

“Could you have said that any more ominously?”  Thor asked.

“What? What did I say? I just agreed with you, what’s wrong with that?”

“Did you have to say it like a looming supervillain?”

“Thor, I am carrying her, I can’t not loom.”

“You are carrying her like you’re on your way to drop her on some railroad tracks.”

“I’m sorry, are you carrying her? Because it looks to me like I am the one carrying her. Do you want to carry her?”

“I think I can walk.” You spoke up. They certainly bickered like ordinary siblings.

“Are you sure?” Thor asked. You hesitated, then shook your head. While being in contact with Loki did make you feel better, your legs still felt like jelly, and you were definitely still dizzy from all that light being inside you.

“Was that magic?” You asked. Your voice felt small and far away. “Is that what magic is?”

“It was a kind of magic.” Loki said slowly. “Either very old, or very new. Or perhaps very obscure. It feels familiar, but I can’t quite place it yet.”

“Why is it trying to kill us?”

“I don’t think it is.” He explained. “Rather, I don’t think it has a motivation. I don’t think it had a mind. It’s just something that exists, and there are consequences for interacting with it, however inadvertently. I don’t think you are to blame for this, and for once, I don’t think I am either. Until proven otherwise, I am going to be treating this as a coincidence that we just have to deal with.

But I believe it’s abundantly clear that we have to stay in the same area at least. Hopefully not touching all the time; that would be terribly inconvenient for the both of us. But not far apart. And since, as you might imagine, I can’t go traipsing all over Midgard-I have duties, you know-“

“And a hel of a reputation.” Thor interjected. Loki glared.

“Yes, and that. Because of those things, it is you who had to come here. If there had been time, I would have simply showed up at your home and tried to talk it out with you. But there was no time.”

“You had six months.” You pointed out. “And you’re just figuring this out now? You had that mark the whole time, and you never wondered what it was?”

Loki pursed his thin lips. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused.

“Tell me, do you live a busy life?” He asked.

“Well…I work a lot. Or at least, I did. I worked as much as I could. I needed every shift possible, just to get by, especially when I had to start going to the doctors.”

“Mhm. I co-rule an entire nation that is attempting to rebuild itself from scratch. I am busy. The mark was a curiosity, the sickness was inconvenient, but I had much more important things to do with my time.”

“Oh.” You said, and went quiet for a time.

They finally approached the other man you had seen in the distance, the one who hadn’t moved at all. He stood on a small, stone pavilion, gazing out into the distance. He looked even taller than your escorts, dark skinned, wearing warm brown leathers and an ornate bronze helmet with flanges in the shape of a crescent moon. Asgardians seemed to have a thing for elaborate headwear.

Before him was a large sword, partly buried in an odd contraption unlike anything you had ever seen before. He glanced at you with the kindest and most beautiful eyes you had seen all day.

“She is a guest.” Loki said as he passed.

“I know this looks incredibly shady, but-“ Thor began.

“I will let you know when they are coming.” The man said in a deep, even voice. Thor thanked him, then hurried after his brother, who hadn’t waited.

Loki crested a low hillock, and the skeleton of a city came into view. Even from here, you could see teams of builders at work, their construction efforts kicking up clouds of dust. From the looks of it, the place was eventually going to be huge, but for now, it was little more than foundations.

It was interesting to look at. You’d never seen an embryonic city before.

“Welcome to Asgard.” Thor said. “It’s a bit of a work in progress, but we’ll find a place for you.”

“I’ve already got one.” Loki said. “It just needs to be properly refurnished.”

You felt much better now, though your wet, muddy clothes were getting very cold. All the construction made you a bit apprehensive, especially all that dust. This was kind of like enemy territory you were being brought into. If you went inside, would you ever come back out?

“I’m pretty sure I can stand now.” You said. If you were going in, it should be on your own two feet. Loki obligingly set you down.  “Um, my name is _____.” You said. It was likely that they already knew who you were, but control of your own name demonstrated what small personal power you still had.

“Pleased to meet you.” Thor said. “Stay close to us, and don’t stray. Security doesn’t know you yet.”

You did as he said, but you still felt vulnerable with so many eyes on you. Of course people would stop and look if their rulers came strolling down the street. And they did attract attention; Loki with his shining horns, Thor with his resplendent cape. And you, sandwiched between, tiny in comparison, wearing a mud-drenched, company issue uniform that had always fit you poorly. Function was far more important than fashion in your line of work. But the people still stared.

Asgardians came in a surprising range of colors and features, but they were all pretty tall compared to you. They wore unfamiliar fashions, and some were carrying loads that you were sure a regular human couldn’t handle. They looked human, but they weren’t the same as you.

Construction continued all around you; even the roads were unfinished. You were led along the only areas that were fully constructed, workers rushing to and fro all around you. They all stared, especially the kids, many of whom seemed to be trying to help out with the building. You didn’t know how legal that was, but maybe child labor laws were different in Asgard. Or maybe they just needed every available hand, or had no concept of babysitters.

An adolescent girl energetically sweeping up construction debris sent a large cloud of dust into the street. It enveloped the three of you, and suddenly, you were no longer there.

You were back in Iowa, in a Summer drier than you could remember. The cornfields were dead for miles around, the destruction on such a massive scale that it had actually lowered the ambient humidity of the area. The town was mostly empty, streets choked with dust that stirred at the slightest breeze. You couldn’t breathe the dust.

You held your breath, lips pressed tightly together, heart speeding. You’d stopped walking, and someone was talking to you, but these were not your neighbor’s voices. You didn’t know them. The dust hadn’t settled. You couldn’t breathe the dust.

Panic beginning to rise, you frantically searched your soiled shirt for some patch of cloth that wasn’t soaked in mud. You held it over your mouth and nose, carefully trying to breathe through it. You couldn’t breathe the dust!

The dust used to be people.

A strong hand grasped your arm and dragged you out of the cloud. You looked into the face of a murderer and yelped in fear. The dust, a killer, an unfamiliar place…

“What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling sick again?” Concern over your wellbeing?

“The dust.” You choked out. Where were you? “The dust. Don’t breathe the dust. Cover your mouth, don’t breathe the dust. Please don’t kill me. Everybody’s already gone. Stay away from the dust.”

“What are you talking about?” A demand. You couldn’t answer.

“What’s going on? Look, she’s having some kind of fit.”

“We’re almost there, get her inside. Get her out of the dust.”

The Scourge of New York led you along, you couldn’t tell how far, but by the time they had brought you inside, you had started to calm down and remember your situation.

“S-s-sorry.” You said, still trembling. “I-I’m just overwhelmed.” It was clear from their faces that neither of them believed you.

“Just come along.” Loki commanded. “You need to bathe.”

You wouldn’t remember the corridors or the rooms, but you would remember the bath. It was bigger than any bathtub you had ever seen, and it was set into the floor.

How were you going to explain this? Tell them you had a phobia of dust? Would they buy that?

You sank into the bath and tried to let it wash you away.

[wingedfabray]

pride burns quick

Tagging: @hautekurture & Quinn Fabray Where: Undique Stadium When: Tuesday, 2019 What: In which Kurt and Quinn finally “practice,” and Quinn doesn’t drive all the way from Lake George for it. Warnings: Death mention

Kurt had returned from Ohio and thought the change of scenery would make him feel at ease. It didn't. It felt like  there was something caught in his windpipe. Something trapped. Maybe the apocalyptic talk Dani randomly texted at him was sinking in. Great she got me paranoid too. Kurt thought. He was annoyed at feeling antsy over nothing. So he decided to message Quinn. Why? Misery loves company. Did you hear that the world is going to end.

Quinn thrived on keeping her life carefully constructed and controlled. Or she had, prior to enrolling at NYADA and immediately throwing all of her planning out the window to help her body-swapped peers. There was something about the campaign trail, and quiet nights huddled with her sister that reminded her just how much she'd changed. It was with almost a sense of relief that she opened up a message from Kurt Hummel of all people. Finally, something to shake up the monotony. Shame it had to be Kurt. I've heard rumor. Is there a reason you're texting me about it?

Kurt smirked and rolled his eyes. Of course Quinn Fabray wouldn't care about world ending rumors. He walked through his dorm and looked out of the window. The campus was empty. Pretty now it was May but empty. You don't seem to mind the rumors then. Apparently it has to do with Marley. Aren't you particularly close or. I don't know. Care? Apocalypse is nigh.

Quinn sat back against her chair, pulling her phone away from the pile of books on the table in front of her. Of course she cared. Kurt had a way of taking her words and either taking them completely wrong, or needling down to the absolute truth of them, the truth even Quinn herself hadn't acknowledged yet. It was unnerving. A door to another world opened up in my family room, took all of my family heirlooms, followed by Blaine. I'd hardly call an apocalypse a shock at this point. More like the inevitability we've all been barreling towards for years. She paused over the thought, glancing at the once-full curio shelves around her. As for Marley, we're more acquaintances. Not close enough for her to talk to me about anything as important as the end of the world. Again, Kurt, why are you texting me about this? What do want, an answer? I don't have one.

Kurt wryly texted back, This end of the world thing is a shitshow. Are you saying you're aware of an imminent crisis, one you've had a past trauma about, and yet you're what? In Belgium somewhere with your family and ignoring it? I don't need an answer. Just asking for you to match your actions with your beliefs. You probably haven't prepared.

Quinn huffed, tossing her phone back on top of the books. It was all history, stories that made patterns. It was everything she could find on portals, on different planes of existence and theories about worlds on top of worlds.  She picked her phone back up, I'm trying to help figure out what, and why. I'm helping my sister campaign for stronger research, so that we can start understanding what it is we're preparing for and how best to do that, rather than just throwing ourselves blindly at defense, while doing what research I can. What would you have me do, Kurt? These texts can't be totally random, what is your brilliant suggestion?

Kurt squinted at the words on his phone hoping it would make sense. Nope. None. That's such a milquetoast answer, Quinn. Is this what voting for your family means? Incremental mediocrity? Why the hush hush. I expected bold leadership to face the very confirmed end of the world. What can I say. Maybe I'm worried my social partner person is going to be the death of me.

Quinn wondered if it was bait. If he just liked throwing words out there just to watch her leap to contradict them. On the contrary, while everyone else seems to be scrambling to build up a defense against something we don't even understand yet, it could actually be seen as bold to step back and look for answers. I believe working to understand what we're defending against is just as important as anything anyone else is doing. Of course, she leapt every time. She pulled in a breath, releasing it slowly before sending another text, Socius Pactum. I'm not going to get you killed. Did you just need reassurance? Is that why you've texted me, you're scared?

Kurt tsked under his teeth. Quinn has been away for too long from the scene. And how's that been. When was the door thing. Oh right. A year and so ago. Did you find the answers you were looking for. Or even the direction to look. This makes me think you're just a bad researcher now. You have all the money and power in the world, don't you? This is all you have? That's it? Oh honey, I don't think I have to spell it out for you. I'm not scared about you dying. It won't happen because I'm me. But in case. I'll say the man above said it was your time to go. I'm not scared about death. I don't want to leave the people I care about in the lackadaisical hands of the others I don't have any faith in. Do you think you can protect Blaine? You haven't reassured me you can help anyone. But yourself and your image. When was the last time you were in field missions, Quinn? When did you actually go fight for someone you cared about, or did you wait and research and blah blah. Again. How is that working out for you.

Quinn's hands clenched around her phone. The wall of text seemed to slam into her chest, burrowing beneath her rib cage and pulsating, barbed and immoveable.  Quinn had long come to the conclusion that money couldn't fix this. That didn't mean she was throwing away her family's considerable influence and fortune. You're always so good at throwing out your assumptions as fact. You'll make a fool of yourself some day, and I can't wait to watch. She thought of angels, and worlds stitching together, of statues with chains wrapped around them, Enochian script at their feet that was leading her swiftly towards answers. I've come a lot farther than you think. The fact that you haven't received an update personally speaks only towards my lack of confidence in you. The rest, she mustered what humility she could, I have admittedly fallen short on Field Missions. This says I'm busy, not that I've decided my family and friends' safety is any less important to me. What do want, Kurt? For me to prove I'm not going to sit back and let others die? That I know how to cast a spell? I won't, and I can.

Kurt had put his phone away confident he had shut Quinn Fabray up. He was channel surfing for the sake of keeping himself entertained when his phone started lighting up. At first Kurt assumed it was Blaine discovering another puppy and sending him multiple photos. When he checked, it wasn't several blurry movies of Blaine saying who's a good boy. It was Quinn. Kurt tensed his jaw at her comments. He had so much to say. However he didn't. You can?

Quinn watched the phone just long enough to know a return text wasn't imminent, before setting it carefully back on the table. She rubbed at her temples in the following silence, until the quiet buzz had her jaw clenched and shoulders tense once more. I can. Maybe it's time we actually trained, as a Socius Pactum. As soon as the text read 'Delivered,' Quinn wanted to take it back. Too late, she buried her nose in a book, and hoped Kurt chose to ignore her, just this once.

Kurt raised a brow. She actually challenged him first to a fight. Hmph. Socius Pactum my Calvin Klein-wearing ass. Show up at Undique tonight then, at 6. I'm only going to hang around for 5 minutes so don't think about being late. Kurt knew he was giving Quinn a big chance here, an opportunity for her to shut it down and not even show. It would be a good revenge, Kurt wouldn't be against the pettiness of this idea. The time came, and so did Kurt, dressed in a simply elegant track pant and color blocked short sleeve hoodie.

Quinn read the text, glanced at the clock, and proceeded to contemplate not showing up at all. It was too late to arrange a portal, despite her family's influence, and the drive would be four hours. And, well, a drive. In a car, on roads that twisted and turned. Her stomach flipped, but she called their personal driver regardless. By the time she stepped out of the car at the student union, she was shaky and half-considering texting Dave Karofsky about nausea potions. Percy offered a polite "have a nice evening, Miss Fabray" as she rushed away, and she barely had time to throw on a plain brown t-shirt and sweats before she found herself in Undique. Thank God the nausea had settled before she had to force herself to push her way inside. This was decidedly not how she thought her day was going to go. "Kurt, hello."

Kurt crossed his arms and mowed down Quinn's look with a cocky glance. "Is this what's in bloodline fashion nowadays? Brown and sweats. No wonder Berry asked for advice." Kurt quipped instead of saying hello and pointed to the door with his thumb. "We have thirty minutes. I didn't book long. I don't expect to sweat this one." Kurt walked inside without checking if Quinn was following. I know she is. He pulled out his capped sai which was less deadly than his steel-tipped ones and did some spinning tricks to loosen up his wrist muscles. "If you want to prepare do it now," he said on stage and getting into an offensive position.

Quinn shook the comment off with a glare. She anticipated getting dusty, her eyes tracing the line of the sai. They seemed to move effortlessly; it was obvious he was familiar. He'd said he wasn't worried about him dying, and she believed it. But then, she could also recall the way fire danced around her, how sometimes it would shift gold. It could be just as effortless. She set her book bag at the edge of the stadium, taking a moment to flip through her grimoire before settling into easy stretches. It only took a moment until she found herself standing across from Kurt, hands flexing at her side. "I'm ready when you are, Hummel."

Kurt studied Quinn's movements. This is a rare moment after all. Naturally Queen Quinn would look awkward here. She was digging through her book and Kurt wondered if that was her nerves manifesting to the surface. Smug thoughts were in his head and that was why Kurt flipped his fingers at Quinn to come at him first. "Bit-I mean, witches first." Kurt grinned.

Quinn clenches her teeth, skipping over Kurt's taunt before finally settling herself with a breath. She'd been working with her magic on deeper levels for months, this was just an opportunity to put it all together. Her Enochian was starting to sound smoother, no longer stumbling over otherworldly consonants, Angels above, I ask thee for protection. Her magic circle spun at her feet, and golden embers flickered and danced around her.

Quinn: 1d7  = (5) = 5

Kurt: 1d8+2  = (6)+2 = 8

Kurt cocked his head at the weird chanting Quinn was speaking. So that's the angel talk. Kurt thought. He saw fire envelope around Quinn like a shield. Not on my watch. Without saying a word, Kurt dashed toward Quinn. Leaping into the air, he came crashing down with his sai pointed downward to pierce the shield. He got a bit through when he felt the impact sink and he jumped back to see what would happen next. "Nice light show, Quinn."

Quinn: 1d7  = (1) = 1

Quinn had seen Kurt fight, but had never been on the receiving end of it. He was quick, there and gone. For a moment all she could see was a blade, and the flames that licked at it before it could strike her.  She held her stance despite the onslaught, not even waiting for Kurt to finish his sentence before pushing her hands forward, Now forward. It should've been good, maybe she should've asked instead of commanding. Either way, the flames that should've blasted across the floor in front of her flickered in a chaotic mess instead. Her stomach dropped, and her hands clenched into fists, the flames flashing bright and entirely ineffectual.

Kurt: 1d8+2  = (7)+2 = 9

Kurt saw the flames coming at him and he could laugh about it. He swung his arm to send away the fire and went for another attack. He got to her side and slashed, trying to break through the fire. He was successful and felt his sai cut through this time.

Quinn felt the shield sputter out before she felt the bite of the sai. The sad attempt at a spell sizzled and left the ground at her feet scorched. Her mouth dropped open in a gasp, and she stumbled back a step at the hit, her feet skidding against the stage. It hurt, almost more than the tight coil of shame that bunched in her stomach. She felt the capped blade drag against her as she stepped away from it swiftly, gasping out her shield spell as she put some distance between them. A few steps back, and surrounded by dancing flames again, she readjusted her stance, meeting Kurt's eyes with a determined glare.

Quinn: 1d7  = (7) = 7

Kurt: 1d8+3 include familiar level 1. = (8)+3 = 11

Kurt saw the shield was up again. Such tactics were made to draw things out, however it didn't mean Kurt didn't have a way around it. He had fought against shields before. The new shield looked stronger, however. Alright, come out. Kurt told his familiar and the white stag appeared from thin air. "Are you doing research now?" Kurt asked to goad Quinn on. He looked at the stag and they both rammed into the shield to push Quinn back.

Quinn: 1d7  = (2) = 2

Quinn faltered at the hit this time, feeling herself forcibly pushed back, even as her hands came up instinctively to block herself from the two bodies charging her. The flicker of flames around her sputtered and hissed, more smoke than light. Frustration mixed with the shame; she couldn't quite quell the way her breath huffed out with effort, or the knowledge that shield was her best and it crumpled like a match under water. She was outmatched, and outperformed. But it was Kurt, she'd always felt sh had more to prove to Kurt than any of her other peers, logically or not. "God..." a curse died on her tongue, and she pushed forward against Kurt, wrapping her hands around the wrist of the hand holding the sia.  Please, I pray, alight right here. The resulting spell was weak, at best. A flicker around Kurt's wrist.

Kurt: 1d8+2  = (3)+2 = 5

Kurt knew it was over when she was having trouble holding onto a shield. He shook the fire off his wrist, and wound up his sai and threw it right at the center of the shield. It was where the fire smoked out the strongest. The weak spot. Kurt stepped away and gave a roll of his eyes to his familiar to go. Hart said nothing and trotted away. Kurt wanted to do the same. The thrill of winning was gone essentially when he knew how one-sided this fight was. She was no battler. She hadn't even a strategy Kurt could try to out maneuver. In the end, what's the point. This isn't a rivalry. This is bullying.  "Are you going to put up another shield?" Kurt asked casually. "I'm bored of fighting." He decided to give Quinn a chance to save face and leave without injuring more of her pride. She could say he was the one who called it quits.

Quinn felt the shield waver, just before Kurt's sai pummeled straight through it. The capped blade hit just beneath her rib cage, and she felt the air leave her in a rush. Her knees hit the ground, one hand instinctively moving to catch herself before she slumped forward. In front of Kurt. Her vision swam and she prayed it was because she was dazed and not because she was crying. She wasn't. Thank God. A muscle jumped in her jaw, and she spent a moment just trying to put herself back together, glancing up just long enough to watch Kurt retreat, his stag trotting away. Maybe she wasn't crying, but she could feel it. The way it was difficult to swallow, how her eyes burned and she didn't quite trust herself to say something, anything. Her hands shook; she thought she was getting over that. "I concede." She finally managed, quietly. Barely there, even while he was walking away, and the out was right there in front of her. "That was...I concede."

Kurt sighed when he checked to see Quinn was immobile from her spot on the floor. He heard her reply and knew how hard it must be to say it. He walked to his bag and pulled out one of his wet wipes. He didn't carry handkerchiefs like Blaine did however who also carried handkerchiefs like Blaine did. He strode back and handed it to her, also offering a hand to get up. "Come on. You shouldn't be on the ground too long, people will think I'm bullying you as the new Supreme."

Quinn accepts the wet wipe, and with a bit more trepidation, the hand up. "If that's a pop culture reference, I don't know it." She says into the silence that follows, working the wipe between her fingers if only to have something to do with her hands. Her brow furrows, and it takes much more than she'd like to admit to put herself together enough to actually talk to Kurt. To not drown in the fact that she challenged him, drove down from Lake George, and failed so spectacularly he literally looked no different than when they started. "Apparently, I won't be playing the offensive role in this...partnership. Evodest has never been my strength, it's...healing, occasionally shields. I'll...work on it. And perhaps we should talk, actually talk, about how we'd work together." The world was ending, they might actually have to.

Kurt gave Quinn a deadpan stare. "Why am I bothering to do these references." He let Quinn work out whatever she needed to work out in her head and went around picking up the sai he threw. He twirled it around his hand and put it away. "It doesn't have to be evo... evodust? That's not the problem. The problem is I don't think you had something bigger to fight for than proving me wrong." Kurt said harshly at first. Then he softened at something she said, though he would never explain what it was to her. "Are you saying you're actually open to receiving advice from me? You know who I am, right." Kurt said and added on, "...Well you know I can't heal others for any worth of my Prada boots." He tossed his sai into his bag without fail. "Maybe we can talk about it over message? I would never be caught dead with you in that outfit. Actually first of all you are getting a new sparring outfit."

Quinn bit down on her tongue, killing the 'I really wouldn't be caught dead with you period' before it could escape. The fact was he was right. She'd driven down because she felt called out, angry, and decidedly useless holed up in Lake George with her books and her family. Not that she'd honestly admit more than she already had to Kurt. She looked at him for a moment, still perfectly put together, but offering more to her than he ever had before. It was an almost-kindness she wasn't sure what to do with. "I'm saying we should discuss it. Over text, obviously." She straightened her shirt, rumpled as it was. "I'll find myself a new outfit, thank you very much."

Kurt laughed at her remark. She sounded petty and like Kurt himself. He let her have the pithiness of his silence and agreed loudly, "Oh God no, over text. I wouldn't want people to know I was hanging out with a nerd reading books." The ample sarcasm was the icing on this cake. Kurt knew he literally slept with a nerd so if Quinn had any clue as to what went on at NYADA currently she would get it. "Augh, you are not. We aren't coordinating another battle where I'm battling with a frumpy paper bag blouse. We will choose an accent color and build around it. Our patron saint would be oh so offended if we didn't." He put on a fake affected tone.

Quinn lifted an eyebrow, "Right, we certainly wouldn't want that." She thought of Blaine, then of Kurt, then promptly shoved those thoughts in the deepest recesses of her mind, along with many other things she couldn't quite rationalize. She blew out a sigh, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, eager to be finished with the whole ordeal. But...Blaine saw something in him, and he wasn't being the absolute worst, considering she'd just literally fallen to her knees in front of him. "Send me ideas, then, if this offends you so much. I'll...practice, and try to spend a little less time with my nose in a book. Fair?"

Kurt shrugged and gathered his things. Quinn was Blaine's friend. That much was true. She wasn't Kurt's though, so he had no reason to let her off easy. However, I'm tired. "Can't you brainstorm any? You read those books to fill your head, don't you? There only three good options for both of us to wear." Kurt figured he could throw her a bone. This time. "Research saves lives when people know about it so keep me in the loop." He said, ready to part ways. Today had been quite the day and Kurt wanted to watch some Queer Eye and imagine Antoni Porowski being his secret admirer. However as he was about to leave, he remembered he /had to/ know. "So did you take a portal?"

Quinn absorbed the question, immediately pivoting and making her way across the stadium floor towards the exit. "Have a good day, Kurt." She threw over her shoulder through clenched teeth. "I'll try to keep you in the loop." The doors slammed shut definitively behind her.

[probablymango]

Dungeons and Arcana

Chapter 1: New Game

Lucio rubbed his face, trying hard not to glare at the others at the table with him. “Explain to me again, what is it you want to do?”

Asra smiles, setting down his glass. “We want to bring two more people into the game with us.”

“I got that. Who are they, do I know them, what are their experience, and do I need to start a new campaign?” He hated getting new players. Not that he wants to keep others from playing, but it meant having to learn them, figure out how they play characters, see what they could and couldn’t deal with, merging them into pre-existing campaigns was a bitch.

Julian raises his hand a bit. “My sister, she’s got a bit of experience from playing with me.”

Lucio nods, then looks at the other two.

“Our roommate, Muriel. You’ve probably met him before, or well, at least seen him.” Mordenkainen answered, making vaguely descriptive hand gestures. “Tall guy, beefy, wears a hoodie all the time, and has the big service dog. Ring any bells?”

It did, mostly because the guy was like a huge brick wall, but he wasn’t very social, so Lucio didn’t know him very well. “Does he have any experience?”

Asra and Mordenkainen look between each other with small looks of worry. “... We’ve tried…” “But neither of us are good dms so….” “Not really….”

“Jesus christ.” He groans, rubbing his face and pushing his glasses further up his face. “...... I’m going to have to meet them both, then we’ll see about a new campaign. Nadia!” He looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“What?” Nadia yells back.

“You’re going to need to make a new character!”

“Okay! What kind of campaign?”

“Not sure yet! Probably just a self inserts and fantasy!”

“Hella!”

Lucio rolls his eyes then turns back to the three in front of him. “Same time or do we need to reschedule for the others?”

“Muriel is good with us.” Asra smiles brightly, lightly jumping in his seat.

Julian thinks for a bit, then pulls his cell out of his scrubs pocket. “... I’ll have to check in with her for that, but let’s stick with the same time for now.”

Lucio nods, ideas of what to make the campaign starting to form. “Good, good, please get them in contact with me before then please. I need to meet them first, even if it’s over webcam.”

Nadia came out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of grapes and milk shake. “So we’ve got more people coming?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes.” Rang in everyone else.

She nods, thoughtfully sipping at her shake. “We’ll have to order more food then. Do any of them have allergies?”

“Portia does, but I doubt that’ll stop her from eating what’s presented.”

“Still, best to make preparations anyways. What’s she allergic to?”

“Dairy, but she doesn’t acknowledge that fact.”

“Oh.” She makes a face. “Is…. is there a non-dairy pizza? Hmm, I’ll keep an eye out for non-dairy snacks that taste good.”

Julian sighs with relief. “Thank you. I can try to get her to send a list of snacks she likes, if that’d help?”

Nadia and Julian start to discuss food, while Lucio turns to the other two. “So, I know of Muriel, but what’s he like? Asides from being a big boy.”

“Shy, not outgoing, and suffers from anxiety.” Asra says, ruffling his brown hair. “We figured that doing it with friends would be the best chance at having him play and plus you’re pretty good, so we figured you’d be best at being one of his first dms.”

Lucio sighs in defeat. “We’ll talk more about this later.” He glances at the clock, then groans. “After work, it’s time to go.” He and Asra stand up, grabbing their bags and coats. “Bye Noddy!”

“Bye Mayor!” Asra grins, sliding on his obnoxiously colored green, pink, and orange jacket.

“Not mayor yet.” She laughs, waving them farewell. “Don’t forget your arm charger!”

“Thank you!” Lucio quickly grabs it from the counter, then goes out to the car. “What do you plan on playing tonight?”

Asra buckles himself, as he makes his signature cat face. “What do you mean?”

Lucio narrowed his eyes at him as he buckled himself in and pulled out. “Do you plan on being a memey little shit with the music tonight or do you plan on doing normal bar music?”

“Oh, you know.” He grins, giving Lucio the answer he knew. The bar was going to be filled with meme songs, most of them were going to give him a headache.

“You little shit.” He groaned, already feeling the headache forming from just thinking of what he was going to hear for the hours they were working together. “Can you at least put on good meme music?”

“Excuse you, but Smash Mouth is great music.” He laughs, watching the buildings pass by.

“No, no it’s not. And please, for the love of god, don’t play What’s New Pussycat, because I swear, I will jump over the bar and strangle you for it.”

“Kinky.” He snickers, poking at his shoulder.

“It’s not a kink thing you perverted little shit!” He groans, keeping his eyes on the road as he blindly slaps at Asra.

Asra snorts, weakly batting his hand away. “What if I play, It’s Not Unusual?”

“That’s worse!” He groans, putting his hand back on the wheel. “Just… Please, take some of the patrons’ requests.”

“I’ll consider it.”

It was quiet for the next few minutes, but as Lucio finished parking, his speakers came to life with-

“DO YOU LIKE WAFFLES?”

“ASRAAAAAA!”

The culprit ran into the bar, laughing with bastardly delight. Lucio groaned, rubbing his face as he turned off the car, and grabbed his bag. He hoped today will be slow, so he could write, but since Asra took over the music selection, more people started coming in. It was good for business, but not good for his creativity. He went inside, clocked himself in, and went to his usual part of the bar, the one with the plug-in built into the counter. He plugged in his phone and arm, hoping people chose the other bartenders, but knowing he’s never that lucky.

His fear was confirmed about 10 minutes into his shift. Asra had some weird remix playing as a sickly looking older man came to the bar in front of him. Worm man, or Vlastomil, as his name tag reads, comes in regularly. The only reason Lucio even remembers this fucker is solely because he stands out; super pale, an almost leprechaun face, dark clothes, and is usually saying something about worms. He assumes the man works at the bait shop, but honestly didn't care enough to find out. “What will it be, sir?”

“Drunken worm cocktail.”

He gets out the ingredients, passion fruit vodka, peach schnapps, cointreu, coconut rum, sweet and sour, cranberry juice, and gummy worms. It looked tasty, white bottom, with red top, ice, and gummy worms resting on the top. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” He sets down $15 and walks away to a darker part of the room. A weird, but alright person.

He stares at him for a bit, then picks up his phone and starts typing.  Vlastomil…. Sounds like a perfect fantasy name….  He quickly made some notes, then put away his phone as another person came over. “Hi, how can I help you?”

The man in front of him was beautiful, like almost a model. Long hair in a braid, brown that somehow beautifully turns to blond, and clothes that looked a bit more expensive than this area normally gets. Dammit, he didn’t need an instant crush on a stranger. “What kinds of wine do you have?”

“... Uh, I’ll have to check the list.” Not many people wanted straight wine, so he forgot the actual names of them. “We have…. Pinot Grigio.. Some Chardonnay… uhhh.. Pinot Noir… Rose and Cabernet Sauvignon?”

He raises an eyebrow and has a small smile. “Not used to serving?”

“Not used to serving straight wine. Which would you like?”

He stares at the bottles for a bit. “Pinot Noir.”

“You got it.” He pours him a glass and hands it to him, then watches as he awkwardly holds the glass, probably expecting a wine glass instead of the regular ass glasses they have.

“Thank you.” He continues to stay at the bar, drinking as he looked around, sipping thoughtfully at his wine. “Hmp, this is just like him too.”

He shouldn’t butt in or even mention that he heard it, but his nosiness is getting the better of him. “Who?”

He sighs, leaning back into the bar. “My ex, he used to bring this home constantly. Should have expected the bad after taste of him with it.”

“That’s rough buddy.” Did he really just say that? He’s been dming too long, now he sounds like an actual NPC!

He snorts softly, turning to smile at him. “I didn’t think bartenders actually said that.”

They don’t, I’m just too used to fantasy. “I like going beyond people’s expectations.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turns back around, continuing to sip at his wine.

Lucio looked over at Asra, only to see him gesturing to…. Do something? He looked at his phone and, oh, he sent a text.

Snek meme bastard: is that valerius? Me: Who is that and why should I care? Snek meme bastard: cuz hes muriels cuz Me: ….. Me: Can u try that again with proper spelling? Snek meme bastard: valerius is muriels cousin Snek meme bastard: is that valerius? Me: not sure Snek meme bastard: ASK Me: NO Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: ………. Snek meme bastard: ill give you $20 bucks if you do Me: …… if he calls the cops im bringing you to jail with me

He groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose, then looks back up at the handsome man in front of him. “What’s your name?”

He looks up at him. “.... any reason you want to know?”

Shit, shit, what does he say? “Why wouldn’t I like to know the name of an attractive person at my bar?” He grins, dying on the inside. He really needs to stop hanging out with MC, they were giving him bad habits of unnecessary flirting with everyone who sticks around for more than 5 minutes.

He looks at him for a bit, then laughs. “You…” He snorts, setting down his drink. “Where.. How did you learn to talk like that?”

“I have no idea of what you mean.” Well, at least he got the stranger to laugh, hopefully that means good things and not being considered a creep. “I speak like a regular people.”

He laughs more, then tries to take a sip of his wine. “I’ll…” He snickers. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me your’s.”

“I’m Lucio of Vesuvia!” He adds a bit of lordly flair to the way he says it, deciding to commit to the weird way of talking for this man. “And you are?”

He giggles, barely able to talk at this point. “I’m- hehehe- I’m Consul Valerius, at your service!” He goes back to laughing.

His phone lights up, warning him that Asra wanted to call. Fuck that, it’s too loud for that to work out. He declines the call to see that Asra had texted him. A lot.

Snek meme bastard: is it him? Snek meme bastard: hey Snek meme bastard: lucio Snek meme bastard: lucio Snek meme bastard: is it him? Snek meme bastard: LUCIO Snek meme bastard: lucy Snek meme bastard: i said get a name not flirt Snek meme bastard: …… Snek meme bastard: bitch Snek meme bastard: dude Snek meme bastard: respond or i will rick roll the entire club Snek meme bastard: im serious Snek meme bastard: just say if he is or isnt Snek meme bastard: 3 Snek meme bastard: 2 Snek meme bastard: 1 Me: WAIT

But it was too late, the room was filling with the beginning of Never Going to Give You Up, sending almost every person in the bar into a collective flight or fight response. Some were booing Asra, others just loudly complaining, some were laughing, and even fewer actually left. Asra stared directly at Lucio, demanding a response.

Me: YES HIS NAME IS VALERIUS Me: TURN IT OFF Snek meme bastard: :3

The music was changed to.. Something else, the song wasn’t familiar, so that was good. He sighs, rubbing his face. “Sorry about that. Our DJ is a…. He’s a bastard and let’s leave it at that…”

He shrugs, finishing his glass of wine. “It’s alright, odd choices in music, but he seems alright.”

After the song, one of the other DJs took over for a bit, then Asra made, as straight as he could, for them. “Valerius?”

“Who wants to know.” His mood immediately dropped back to being serious.

“Muriel’s roommate, Asra.”

He glances at Lucio, as if to get confirmation.

“This is my bastard coworker, Asra, the memelord.” Lucio sighs, gesturing at him.

Asra grins, then starts talking to Valerius, but Lucio stopped listening so that he could make some more notes. Vesuvia and Valerius… wonderful names..

“Excuse me!” A loud person, yelled at Lucio. He looked up to see Vulgora, one of the few people you actually remembered the name of. They were constantly getting into fights and just overall loud. “Get me a beer!”

“Any specific kind?”

“A beer!”

Lucio nodded, getting the cheapest beer he could find and putting it in a glass, then handing it to them. “Here you go.” Vulgora and the bar had a deal, they could drink as much as they wanted and the bill would be put directly on their bank account. The bill on most days was too many drinks, on worst days, over hundreds of dollars for repairs. He didn’t understand why they were let back in after the first time, but at least they were paying for it.

With their drink in hand, Vulgora started chugging as they went to find someone to arm wrestle, and Lucio went back to his phone. Vulgora… that’s a rather unique name…

There was tapping on the counter, he looked up to see one of his greatest fears: Dr. Valdemar. The doctor might not have done anything specifically harmful to him, but waking up in the middle of surgery was still lucid led to….. Visual nightmares that have haunted him for over 6 years. “..... How can I help you?”

“Have you seen Dearil?”

“Uhh.. no?” Name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place who it was.

They look around, contemplating their next words. “Dark orange hair, reddish brown eyes, and is probably carrying a skull?”

No, no he has not. Well, maybe, there’s a lot of people here. He shrugs. “Can’t help you, sorry.”

They nod, setting down a bill. “Thanks anyways.” They wandered into the crowd, hopefully to never be seen again.

…. They would make a great villain. He typed some more at his phone. He was getting a lot of V names tonight.

“Um, sir?” There was a lady in front of him. “Do you serve food here?”

“The bar with food is over there.” He points to the other side.

“Thank you.” She smiles, walking away and someone said “Volta!” as she approached.

This place has a surprising amount of people with Vs in their first name… He went back to his phone, waiting on Asra to stop talking to the cute guy.

[symonde]

Dark sun (part 3) – Dealing with the pain (Joane)

Pairing: Beckett x mc

Book: the Elementalists

Word Count : +/- 1400

Summary: Joane needs to deal with her friends and the consequences of her outburst.

Author note: I try to shorten the chapters, so that they are not so heavy to read. Also easier to manage since i have to type all of it on my phone the moment.

Masterlist: Part 1 Part 2

Tag-List: @itsbrindleybinch @flyawayboo

Shit... her head was throbbing in pain. She felt weak and her eyes would barely crack open for more than a few seconds. When she finally succeeded, she had a hard time focussing on her surroundings. Where am I? The room was small and barely furnished. There was nothing familiar. It took her a few moments to make out the sleeping form next to her. Griffin? Why was he sleeping next to her bed on a chair in such an uncomfortable position? Her head felt all fuzzy, her mind worked so very slow. She recognized the school crest on the bed sheets. Was this the infirmary of Penderghast? She had never been there before since she preferred discussing health problems with healers outside of the school perimeter where no one could gossip of her condition.

Suddenly it all came crushing back... Beckett... he was at Penderghast and she had been running from him. Her magick hadn’t been under control. Joane groaned in despair. Oh God please... i hope i haven’t hurt somebody or destroyed something! She tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn’t obey her and a burning pain spread through her chest, which caused her to inhale sharply. At the small sound Griffin stirred awake next to her.

“Jo? You... you are awake.” A slow smile spread over his features but she couldn’t help but notice the dark shades beneath his eyes that betrayed his lack of sleep and comfort. “How are you feeling?” and slowly as if unsure that it was an appropriate question he added “ What do you remember?”

“I feel like shit” Joane considered not telling him what had happened but knew her friends wouldn’t let her alone until she spilled it so she decided sticking to the truth right away. She sighed “I remember Beckett being back and approaching me. He clearly was shocked when he recognized me.“ And he had been looking so damn good... Joane couldn’t help her voice trembling when she asked Griffin... “Did... did you know he was coming back?”

Griffin shook his head “No one knew! Apparently it was his decision to come back to finish his thesis here. Dean Goeffe welcomed him the morning before you met him.”

“Wait... what? How long have I been out?” She knew letting her magick loose would result in her being exhausted. She had even welcomed the feeling of passing out, not willing to deal right away with the pain of her feelings that had been crashing back to her at his sight – but surely it couldn’t have been more than a few hours...

“It has been more than a week, Jo... You had us so worried. The healers were clueless. Physically there is nothing wrong apparently, but you wouldn’t wake up. You had Shreya worked up in a frenzy. She even considered buying an illegal healing blood orb at the black market...” Griffin gently took her right hand in his. “Can you move? Do you hurt – physically i mean...?”

Joane tried to pull up the corners of her mouth in an attempt of a reassuring smile. She saw the strains of the last week in his face. It was Thief-season and as the captain of Galdurin’s senior team, Griffin had at least 3 games a week to attend. He couldn’t afford to lack sleep. “My head hurts like hell but i think i will be all right ... “ and then she added with a small smile “if somebody would get me a few painkillers....” Griffin got up and handed her a glass of water, dissolving a little pill in it... She downed the whole thing in one gulp. Instantly she felt better.

“Griffin? Did i... did i hurt somebody or have i burned down something with my outburst?” She couldn’t look him in the eyes, too afraid of his answer. If she killed somebody she would never be able to forgive herself...

When Griffin didn’t answer right away, she looked up at him only to find him staring back at her with an uneasy look. “Jo... you didn’t burn anything... there was no fire.”

“Of course there was fire, i felt my control slip, but i tried to direct it to the lake to avoid damage...” she frowned, not being able to remember the whole situation very clearly...

Griffin slowly shook his head, clearly trying to proceed carefully. “Jo, it wasn’t your fire magick that erupted... it... well you send a spiral of sunlight to the sky. The spell lightened the whole sky above Penderghast for 3 days and nights straight... when we got down to the lake it was streaming out of you. We couldn’t stop it. And then you passed out...” he paused slightly considering how to continue. “Shreya broke 3 of her emergency orbs to teleport her fathers best healers right next to us and wouldn’t stop yelling orders to them until all of them confirmed that you were not dead nor dying, and that the only remaining thing to do was letting you sleep the exhaustion off... – what is it?” Griffin stopped in his story when he saw her disbelieving face.

“I can’t... it is impossible... you know i haven’t used any sun-magick in nearly 5 years. I wouldn’t be able to work such a complex spell, let alone one that lasts for 3 days... i lost that power a long time ago...”

“You stopped using it when he left honey...and now he is back...” Shreya burst into the small room, ignoring the nurses protests of only one visitor at a time. As usual she was brutally honest. With a small sob she threw her arms around Joane’ neck. “We were so worried about you.. don’t you dare frighten me like that ever again... I nearly killed him down by the like just so you know. The asshole tried to get to you, i had to throw fire columns at him to get him to back off... “ Shreya went on rumbling about how she had handled the healers, but Joane couldn’t focus on her words anymore, her thoughts went spiralling back and forth to what she had just learned.

Beckett had been at the lake? Why...? And why would he have tried to get to her? He probably wanted to check out the workings of her spell... she let out a small hiss at the thought. She couldn’t allow her thoughts to wonder at other possible reasons for him doing so. You are starting down a dangerous road again Raven! Joane scolded herself and forced her attention back to the second unsettling part of the story.

Apparently she had worked sun-magick again. And a very powerful spell at that... she knew she would face a lot of trouble and questions from the Dean ... and probably also from Professor Kontos who had a herbatory half filled with night blooming herbs, flowers and exotic plants that the school needed for their healing potions and alchemic experiments. Her spell probably killed some of the more sensitive species that couldn’t survive daylight for 72 hours straight. The magical creatures department wouldn’t be happy either. Especially the hyphons - ensuring the schools rune-network and patrolling its borders to keep nomages out – were flying and night active creatures. Them being unable to work, the department would have had to ensure the schools safety by themselves, which was a tedious job...

Joane groaned at the thought that they were expecting an explanation of her. Somehow she didn’t think that – my hot ex-boyfriend showed up and i lost control over a power that i haven’t used in 5 years. So i accidently and unconsciously illuminated the sky for three days while passing out like the emotional wreck of a women i have become. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. – would satisfy them... oh well ... she would deal with them one step at a time. At least with all those problems coming up she wouldn’t have time overthinking the fact that Beckett was back to her life at Penderghast. After that she would focus on finishing her thesis and then she would open a psychological cabinet in the city to help people deal with their problems, and she finally would be able to cut the Beckett-infested part of her old life off.

[humansunshineao3]

Fighting the Good Fight [Ch. 12]

Alec Lightwood just wants to run his Institute in peace.

This is the story that could’ve unfolded if Jace didn’t exist.

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Magnus/Alec, Clary/Izzy

Tags: Jace doesn’t exist, transgender alec lightwood, retelling of the TV show, Internalized Transphobia, Panic Attacks, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Lightwood Siblings Feels, Izzy and Alec are parabatai, Family Dynamics, Homophobia, top surgery, Trigger warnings in chapter notes, in depth trigger warnings

AUTHOR’S NOTES

This is almost definitely my favourite chapter so far. There are a lot of scenes in this one that I've been looking forward to write. Alec has a pretty good chapter, nothing too heavy, but Magnus... Well...

Trigger warnings!

Grief/death: Cat briefly talks about losing Dot. Nothing too heavy but Cat is clearly upset. Additionally, Ragnor dies in this chapter. Magnus’ grief is stark, so read with caution if you’ve recently lose someone, especially a parent.

Possible homophobic language?: Magnus refers to Ragnor as a ‘sod’, which can be traced back to ‘sodomite’. It’s a very British insult and of course, since Magnus is queer (and was alive when it was used as an identity as well as an insult), it’s his to reclaim. Ragnor isn’t phased by it at all, I just wanted to warn you just in case it’s a word you don’t like!

Internalised transphobia: Alec refers to his transness as a ‘situaiton’ that cis gay men might not be okay with. He doesn’t think too hard about it, it’s just a passing mention.

Mention of domestic abuse: Maryse tells Alec that Robert wants to beat him, and seems horrified when she finds out that Robert has threatened Alec before.

Racism: Maryse is genuinely upset at the fact that Magnus is a downworlder cus she’s a biG OLD RACIST

Previous Chapter

Episode 12: Malec

“I’m going insane,” Alec announced, pacing back and forth in his bedroom.

“I can imagine,” Cat hummed on the other side of the phone, her voice tinny. “A week with nothing to do while Valentine skulks around doing God knows what? I’m surprised you haven’t torn all your hair out.”

Alec sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s too much time to think, I hate it.”

“At least it’s given you a chance to sort through your feelings about surgery. I know that your thing is pushing everything down into a tiny ball in the back of your head, but if you’d gone in without processing it then your recovery would have been awful.”

“Is there such a thing as too much processing?”

Cat snorted. “Maybe. Why, what’s bouncing around in that workaholic head of yours?”

Alec hesitated, looking over his shoulder to check that no-one was there, which was ridiculous, considering it was his bedroom. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to do this right now. Sure, everything’s quiet, but Valentine could pop up any second, and what if I’m stuck in recovery when that happens? I just… If anything happened to you and Magnus because I wasn’t there to stop him…”

The other side of the phone was quiet for a moment. “Alec, sweetie, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if Magnus and I needed you to save us from one middle-aged shadowhunter, we’d be pretty terrible warlocks.”

“But if he gets a hold of the mortal cup-”

“Listen, I hate the Clave as much as anybody, but if there’s one thing they’re good at, it’s hiding things. The cup will be fine. Now, the real question is, are you wanting to put this off because of Valentine, or because you’re not ready?”

Alec licked his lips. “Honestly? The idea of surgery doesn’t scare me like it did before. I think I’m even excited to not have to wear a binder anymore. The thought of being able to just throw on a t-shirt and not check my watch obsessively to make sure that I’m not crushing my ribs… I’m looking forward to it, I think. I just… After I have surgery, there’s no excuse to put off getting married. As soon as Valentine’s dealt with, or we get another quiet patch, I’ll have to go to Idris and meet the eligible women that my mother’s been writing to me about. And I’m fucking dreading it.”

“Damn,” Cat said quietly. “I’m so glad that you genuinely want this, Alec, it’s such a relief to hear. I don’t know that I could have let you go through it otherwise.” She hesitated for a moment. “Have you considered that maybe you should wait before rushing into marriage? I mean, you don’t know how the Clave will see you once you have top surgery. Maybe they won’t be quite as hard on you.”

“Maybe, but I still have to make a respectable marriage for Izzy’s sake,” Alec pointed out. “I don’t know. I’ll get over it. How are you doing, anyway? I’ve been so damn self absorbed. What’s new?” The topic of his heterosexual future was making Alec feel anxious, and, as Cat had insightfully said, Alec was better at pushing those feelings away than he was at dealing with them.

“I’m alright… I, uh…” Cat was silent for a moment, and Alec sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Cat, what is it?”

Cat laughed softly, sadly. “It’s been a little hard to bounce back from the news about Dot. I was just starting to accept that she was gone, and when Magnus said she was back, I thought my heart was going to explode. And then…”

“I’m sorry.” Alec said quietly, rubbing his knee. “I’m so sorry, Cat.”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Cat answered, “It’s better, anyway. That’s she’s dead, I mean. Better that than being tortured by Valentine.”

There wasn’t really an answer to that, so Alec stayed quiet, wishing he could hug her.

“Anyway,” she sniffed, breathing in sharply. “Life goes on, hmm? I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early. Are you sure you don’t want to ask Magnus to help look after you? You really need someone there at all times, and Izzy might-”

“I don’t want to keep leaning on him, Cat, it’s not fair. To either of us.”

He hadn’t spoken to Magnus since the day of Izzy’s trial. It had been selfish, asking Magnus to do this and that, over and over again, when they both knew that whatever was between them couldn’t last. Magnus deserved to have someone who could commit to him properly. More than anything, Alec wished that he could turn his back on the Clave, on everything, and show up on Magnus’ doorstep with flowers or something, beg Magnus to forgive him for everything he’d put him through. But that was a distant daydream. He could never, would never, leave Izzy at the mercy of the Clave.

“Besides, my mother said she’d be here, too.” Alec shrugged, “I’ll be fine.”

“Alec, I narrowed down the warlocks!” Izzy burst into the room, clutching a piece of paper. “Oh, sorry.”

“Cat, I gotta go. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, 9am. Don’t be late, I don’t care if Valentine himself wanders through the institute doors.”

Alec snorted. “I’ll be there early. I promise.” Once he hung up, he looked up at Izzy. “Anyone we know?”

Izzy nodded, thrusting the paper at him. “Our old teacher, Ragnor Fell. The others I don’t know. I think we’re going to have to ask Magnus.”

“There’s no way we can just question them all ourselves?” Alec asked grimly, scratching his forehead. There were five names on the list. He knew full well that they didn’t have the time to do that, especially without asking Magnus for portals.

“The angelic power in Jocelyn’s blood is getting weaker by the day, we need to wake her up. Brother Jeremiah thinks she has two weeks tops. By the time we track down these warlocks…”

“Right, right,” Alec nodded, getting up from the bed. “Of course. Magnus will be able to tell us in a few minutes. I’ll call him.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Izzy assured him, patting his arm. “You need to stay calm, you’ve got surgery tomorrow. Clary and I have this. I just wanted to tell you he’d be around.”

Alec smiled slightly. “Thanks, Iz. I appreciate it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So we’ve narrowed down the list of warlocks more powerful than you to five.” Izzy gestured to the screen in front of them as Magnus wrinkled his nose.

“First of all, let’s get one thing straight. It’s not that these jokers are more powerful, they’re just old and decrepit and have too much time on their hands inventing boring spells that no-one will ever use.” Magnus sniffed, and Izzy giggled, shaking her head. He turned his eyes to the screen, making a noise of genuine distress. “You put Ragnor on here? RAGNOR?!”

“He’s nine hundred, and he taught in Idris when my Mom was there. She might have known him,” Clary pointed out, “don’t take it personally.”

Magnus grumbled, but looked the list over. “Honestly, as much as it pains me to admit this, I really think that Ragnor is the most likely candidate. Iris is mostly into dark magic, Bartholomew hates shadowhunters, circle or clave, Soonyeon’s specialty is transfiguration rather than potions. As for Lorenzo, I am offended that he’s even included. His only strength is ass-kissing. It has to be Ragnor.”

“Any idea on where we can find him?” Izzy asked, “Alec and I are able to send him fire messages but we have no idea where he is.”

“Has he been replying to your messages?”

“Alec heard from him a couple of weeks ago. He asked Ragnor to confirm whether or not our parents were in the Circle.” Izzy shrugged, her eyebrows creasing. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason…” Magnus replied thoughtfully, frowning a little to himself as he turned away.

So Alec was that student that Ragnor had mentioned in his letters; the skittish teenage shadowhunter who wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be. The one who had tentatively asked Ragnor if he could change their body just over ten years ago. Ragnor had asked Magnus for advice, considering Magnus helped several trans people with potions and such. He’d mentioned the teenager who grew up to be Alec several times, expressing quiet hope that he’d grow up to be a compassionate leader. Of course it was Alec. Ragnor wouldn’t answer fire messages to just anyone. Magnus felt a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could put Alec’s birth name out of his head. It felt like an awful invasion of privacy to know it without Alec’s consent. On the other hand, this was the second time that it turned out one of his close friends had known Alec for years without him knowing.

Perhaps he and Alec truly were meant to be.

“Magnus?” Clary touched his arm, and Magnus realised that the two women had been talking to him this whole time. “Do you know where to find Ragnor?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded, scratching his jaw. “He’ll be at his estate in Kent. He only leaves England for the winter. I think it’s best that I come with you. Ragnor can be difficult.”

Izzy smiled slightly. “He was always nice to me.”

“Well, of course he was. You’re a delight. He likes good manners. But he won’t take kindly to someone turning up on his doorstep in the height of a crisis like this.” Magnus explained, “we’ll go in a little while. I just have to go and see Alec.”

Izzy opened her mouth to make an excuse for her brother, but Magnus was already gone. As she turned around to grab a spare seraph blade, she caught Clary’s eye, and hastily looked away.

“Iz,” Clary wrapped her fingers around Izzy’s wrist, her green eyes mournful. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” Izzy admitted, her other hand wrapping around the one Clary had on her wrist. “I don’t know what I feel right now. This is complicated, and I don’t know what to do with it. This isn’t the time. We have a mission.”

“Then when is the time?” Clary asked beseechingly. “Look, I know that… I know that I messed up pushing you away. But trying to do all this without you and Alec is just impossible. If you don’t want to be with me, I can deal with that, but I need your friendship, Iz. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That makes two of us,” Izzy said softly, smiling a little. Clary’s lips curved up a fraction, and Izzy sighed, unable to keep from pressing their lips together gently. “You’re impossible to resist, Clary Fray.”

Clary sighed, brushing her lips against Izzy’s cheek. “My bad.”

Izzy snorted, and closed her eyes for a moment, their foreheads together. They could feel the furtive glances that the shadowhunters around them shot their way, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alec?” Magnus knocked on Alec’s bedroom door, fiddling with his cravat as he waited for Alec to answer.

Alec looked a little guilty as he opened the door, chewing the inside of his cheek. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

“Uhh… Sure.” Alec stepped aside to let Magnus walk past him, a little unnerved by the anxiety radiating off Magnus. He was hugging himself, his hands squeezing his elbows. “Magnus, what’s wrong?”

“I know your birth name,” Magnus confessed, “I am so sorry, I promise you I didn’t go looking for it, I just… Figured it out. Ragnor told me about you years ago, and I just put it together. I-”

Alec blinked. “That’s it?”

“Well…” Magnus swallowed hard, “yes.”

With a tilt of his head, Alec smiled a little. “I don’t mind you knowing it as long as you’re not about to start calling me by it.”

“I would never!”

Alec melted. “It was sweet of you to come here just to tell me that. But you have nothing to apologise for. Really.”

“Are you sure? I feel awful. Honestly I’m considering yanking the whole memory out of my head, it feels like a gross invasion of privacy.” Magnus confessed, clenching his hands into his fists to keep himself from doing something stupid like pulling Alec in close. “In hindsight, I’m not sure why I came here to tell you all this. Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

“Magnus…” Alec sighed. He shook himself out of the moment, running his hand through his hair. “This is… This has gotten out of hand.”

“Out of hand?” Magnus asked quietly.

“Yes.” Alec gulped. “I-I never… This is confusing. You’re confusing me.”

“Alec, even shadowhunters fall in love.” Magnus pointed out, “I’ve seen it happen.”

“You can’t just fall in love this fast, it’s not possible. It’s not rational.”

Magnus smiled slightly. “Feeling confused is part of it. Hey, look at me. Up until I met you I didn’t trust shadowhunters as far as I could throw them. Four hundred years of belief, and you came along and kicked that over like a sandcastle, Alexander. I’m confused too. But that’s how you find out if something’s there.”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked, crossing his arms tightly.

“Emotions are never black and white, they’re more like symptoms.” Magnus explained, wringing his hands together, steeling himself. He stepped a little closer, licking his lips as he heard Alec’s breath hitch. “You lose your breath every time they enter a room. Your heart beats faster when they walk by. Your skin tingles when they stand close enough to feel their breath.”

Alec breathed out shakily, dropping his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head.

“Tell me you feel what I feel, Alec.”

“Magnus, I can’t, my duty-”

“Take a risk. Take a risk on me, Alexander. Please.” Magnus entreated him, his hands lifting to hold Alec’s biceps.

Alec shook his head, pulling away. “I think you should go. I shouldn’t have done this, I shouldn’t have strung you along, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Magnus.”

You’d have thought that Magnus would have been used to heartbreak after all the centuries that had passed him by, but it still stung as much as the first one at age twenty-three. He inhaled sharply. “You have a choice to make.”

“I…” Alec’s eyes looked like they were begging Magnus not to go, but his lips spoke over them. “Even if I did feel something for you, something real, what? You want me to give up my life for you?” He asked, his voice bereft and helpless. “I have to do what’s right for me and Izzy.”

Magnus swallowed hard. “I will not ask again.”

Alec struggled for a moment, his heart racing. Magnus or Izzy? That’s what it all came down to. Protecting Izzy from the Clave, or being with Magnus. Izzy’s life or his heart. Izzy’s happiness or his own.

He remained silent, and turned away to organise the papers on his desk.

As he heard the door close behind him, he let out the softest whimper, his hand coming up to his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Isabelle,” Maryse strode over to where she was standing with Clary, going over Ragnor’s file. Izzy gave Clary a long-suffering look, before turning to greet her mother.

“Alec’s in his room,” Izzy told her, giving her a nod. “He mustn’t be stressed out, he needs to stay as calm as possible, doctor’s orders.”

“Of course, that makes sense,” Maryse was smiling in a forced, overly happy sort of way, and it was kind of creeping Clary out. “I hear you retrieved Jocelyn’s body from Valentine.”

“She’s not dead,” Clary insisted.

“Oh, no, my apologies, that was a poor choice of words.”

Clary gaped at her.

“How is your brother? Is he looking forward to tomorrow?” She asked Izzy crisply.

“He doesn’t seem to be dreading it, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it too much. Are you coming to the hospital tomorrow?”

Maryse nodded, “of course I am! He’s my son! And besides, some representatives from the Clave are coming to monitor the procedure. Naturally, they don’t want to rely too heavily on a warlock to make sure Alec’s blood stays uncorrupted. And this is history in the making! It has to be documented for future generations.”

“Right. So they’re happy that Alec’s having surgery?” Izzy asked skeptically.

“Well, of course. The consul has a granddaughter who’s,” Maryse glanced around to check that no-one was listening, “infertile. So Alec has been chosen as her husband. They’ll adopt a shadowhunter child in need and that’ll be that. It’s a good match. Alec will be so powerful in Idris.”

Clary scoffed, shaking her hand. “So this is all about power. Now it makes sense.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss Fray. You’re basically a mundane.” Maryse replied coolly.

“Clary’s a better shadowhunter than you’ll ever be, Maryse,” Magnus said, walking up to them and squeezing Clary’s hand.

Maryse raised her chin. “I have to go and see Alec.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed towards the living quarters. Izzy and Clary sighed in relief at the same time.

“Are you ready to go?” Magnus asked, avoiding eye contact with the two of them.

“Is Alec alright?” Izzy prodded tentatively.

Magnus shrugged. “I’m sure. Shall we?”

“If we want to back at a reasonable time tonight we need to go now.” Clary pointed out, nodding at Magnus as she took Izzy’s hand. Magnus led them outside to create the portal, his mind racing. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Alec chose his career over Magnus. Why was he so upset? It didn’t make sense. Alec was a shadowhunter, they lived their lives in the service of the Clave. Magnus was being irrational.

“I’ll go through first to solidify the destination,” Magnus threw over his shoulder, suddenly grateful that he was about to see Ragnor. He needed something to take his mind off the stubborn shadowhunter dancing around his heart. As always, the weather in England was cold and cloudy, and Magnus shuddered as he waited for Clary and Izzy to come through his portal.

“How come Ragnor doesn’t teach at the academy anymore?” Clary asked, “the way Izzy and Alec talk about him, he was the best teacher ever.”

“He resigned in protest when a warlock was given the death penalty a couple of years ago.” Magnus answered, leading the way across the field towards Ragnor’s home. “The warlock accused, Maria, was one of the warlocks that Ragnor took under his wing. She even shared his family name. It was a huge blow losing her like that. All for a few erroneous spells. It was barbaric.”

Izzy nodded solemnly. “I remember hearing about that from Aline. It shocked everyone. The consul is an awful racist. I hope he gets voted out next election.”

“The Clave is fucked,” Clary announced, and Magnus snorted.

“You don’t know the half of it, biscuit.” Magnus shook his head, stopping suddenly in his tracks and grabbing Izzy before she walked right into Ragnor’s wards. “We’re here.”

“I don’t see anything, is it warded?” Izzy asked, squinting.

Magnus picked a handful of grass and tossed it away from him, rolling his eyes as the blades turned into fireworks, shooting up above their heads. “Melodramatic as usual.”

“You’re calling this guy melodramatic? Damn.” Clary chuckled.

“Oh, I’m vain and flashy, but I learned it all from Ragnor.” Magnus assured her. “To get through the wards, we must have pure intentions. Think of Jocelyn, not the potion. Think of saving her.”

Izzy nodded, closing her eyes and stepping through the wards, disappearing the moment her skin touched the invisible barrier. Clary looked at Magnus for reassurance, eyes wide. After a nod from him, she stepped through as well, followed closely by Magnus himself.

Ragnor was waiting for them outside the house, looking distinctly put out. “It’s good manners to send a message ahead, Bane of my life!”

“Why, my little cabbage, I’m wounded. I’m family, since when do family need to call ahead?” Magnus cooed, walking between Izzy and Clary to approach the older warlock. “Besides, you haven’t been answering your fire messages, you moody old sod.”

“I’ve been answering the important ones,” Ragnor grouched, seizing Magnus in a brisk, forceful hug, before pushing him back to look at him. “Who’s upset you? I’ll turn them into a lizard.”

Magnus laughed, choking up a little. “How do you always know?”

Ragnor squeezed Magnus’ shoulders gently, before turning his attention to Clary and Izzy. “Isabelle Lightwood! Why, look at you! You’ve grown up so quickly! It makes sense, of course, since Alec runs the institute now. Come here, let me see you. My eyesight’s not as good as it used to be.”

“And you haven’t aged a day. You’re making me look bad, Professor Fell.” Izzy teased, walking towards him and going for a handshake, surprised when he pulled her into a hug.

“Now, little Lightwood, none of that Professor Fell nonsense. You are no longer a student, and I am no longer a teacher. Ragnor, please. Oh, but wait, your mother had another child, didn’t she? I can’t keep up these days. How is the baby?”

“Max is nine, Ragnor,” Izzy laughed, letting him usher her inside the house. Clary and Magnus looked at each other, assuming they were supposed to be following, and dashed in after them.

“Oh, so he’s at the academy? I’ve fallen awfully behind since I left. Once all this Valentine unpleasantness is behind us, I must have you and Alec over for dinner.”

“That would be lovely, Ragnor, but actually, this Valentine unpleasantness is why we’re here.” Izzy explained, grabbing Clary’s elbow and pulling her forwards. “This is Clary Fray. You knew her mother, Jocelyn?”

Ragnor slipped his glasses a little further up his nose, and nodded. “Why, you look exactly like her. I suppose you’ve come about the potion, hmm?”

“So you did make it?” Magnus asked, taking a seat in the nearest armchair and making himself comfortable.

“Yes, of course. As you know I never liked Jocelyn much, no offense to you, Clary, of course… But if there was a chance to irritate that hound Valentine, I sure as hell was going to take it.” Ragnor chuckled.

“No offense taken, Ragnor, but please… There is a way to wake her up, isn’t there?” Clary asked, taking his hands in hers. “I know that she was a circle member, but she’s my Mom too, and I need her back. She has knowledge about Valentine that could help us beat him.”

Ragnor looked at Magnus, who nodded. “Truth be told, I wiped the antidote from my mind and fed it to a memory demon. If I’d kept the formula in my mind, Valentine could have tortured it out of me. I’m not terribly good with pain, you see.”

“Please tell me,” Magnus groaned, rubbing his forehead, “that you didn’t use Valak.”

“Well… Yes, of course I did. He’s the most powerful, there’s no way anyone would get to him…” Ragnor trailed off, looking at the grim looks on the faces of the others. “Why do you ask?”

“I had to kill Valak.” Clary sighed, running her hand through her hair.

“You killed Valak?!” Ragnor wrung his hands together. “Oh my giddy aunt, I used that demon for everything! Magnus, he even had my memories of our trip to Monaco.”

“Why would you feed a memory demon your holiday memories?”

“Well, for safe-keeping, of course! I’m nine hundred, my mind can’t keep all of my memories pristine. Miss Fray, my darling girl, I’m sure you had a good reason, but all those YEARS…” Ragnor threw himself on the sofa, his arm over his face.

“I did it to save Alec,” Clary explained. “Ragnor, I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t let Alec be ripped apart like that.”

“If you just used memory vials like a normal person…” Magnus grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I can lend you my memories of Monaco later, the point is, do you have a backup of the antidote formula?”

“What do you take me for, Junior, some kind of amateur?” Ragnor retorted, heaving himself up to a sitting position.

“Where is it?” Izzy asked, sitting down next to him.

“If it was to save Alec, then I suppose I can’t begrudge it.” Ragnor sighed. “Alright, I’ll go and fetch it. It’ll be an awful headache to get it back from her, especially after the nastiness with Magnus…” He mumbled, wandering off into the library. Izzy sat down next to Clary.

“See what I mean? Melodramatic.” Magnus whispered.

“I can see where you get your flair from, that’s for sure.” Clary smiled, bouncing her knee impatiently.

A loud yell made the three of them jump to their feet, Magnus crossing the room before Izzy and Clary could blink. As he burst into the room, he let out a soft cry of his own, his eyes falling first to Ragnor, lying on the floor, and then to the shax demon ambling towards him. With a quick blast of magic, Magnus dispatched it, rushing to Ragnor’s side.

Clary and Izzy checked the rest of the library for demons as Magnus desperately tried to heal Ragnor’s wounds, but the older warlock put shaking hands up to stop him.

“It’s no use, Magnus,” Ragnor whispered, his breath rattling in his chest. Magnus felt tears spring to his eyes. Ragnor never used his first name. It was always Bane, or Junior, or, when he was feeling particularly affectionate, Incorrigible Brat. He hadn’t heard his own name pass Ragnor’s lips in centuries. “It’s… It’s quite alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Magnus choked, putting his hand over the wound in Ragnor’s neck to stop the bleeding, but his heart was quickly failing.

Ragnor coughed, a dribble of blood escaping the corner of his mouth. “Be a g-good boy and let me go… Won’t you?”

Magnus shook his head, pressing harder on the wound. Ragnor sighed, and his head rolled to the side. “No!” Magnus shouted, making Clary jump. Izzy ran back over to him, her hand on his shoulder.

“Magnus, I’m so sorry.”

Magnus felt it, the moment Ragnor’s magic faded to nothing, and he sobbed, dropping his head to Ragnor’s chest. “You can’t, you can’t.”

Clary and Izzy looked at each other, eyes wide. Izzy was floored; a shax demon should not have been able to get the jump on a warlock as great as Ragnor Fell. He must have been so distracted by their presence that he totally missed the demonic presence in the house. Izzy didn’t know what to say, so she just stroked Magnus’ back as he cried over his friend’s prone body.

“You two,” Magnus sat up, heaving in a deep breath, “have to go. There’ll be more demons on the way. I’ll magick all of Ragnor’s belongings to my loft,” he sniffed, collecting himself.

Clary dropped to her knees on the other side of Ragnor’s body. “We won’t leave you, Magnus, you just-”

“Leave me to take care of my friend.” Magnus insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He summoned a portal and Izzy pulled Clary up.

“Warlocks have a very private set of rites when one of them dies, Clary,” Izzy told her, gesturing to the portal. “He needs space.”

The two women disappeared through the portal, and Magnus started to weep again, pressing his forehead to Ragnor’s.

“Oh, thank goodness, they’re gone.”

Magnus sat up straight, all the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he turned to see Ragnor peeking out from behind a bookshelf. Magnus felt the older man’s magic come rushing back all at once, and leapt to his feet.

“What…? You died. I just watched you die.” He glancing around, and sure enough, the corpse that Magnus had thought was Ragnor had disappeared.

“There are some aspects of magic that are still a mystery to you, Junior.” Ragnor smiled, coming out from his hiding place.

Magnus smacked him on the chest, fresh tears filling his eyes. “How could you do that to me?!”

“Well, I had to make the shadowhunters believe I was dead, and if you hadn’t been here to sell it they’d have tried taking the body through a portal, and I don’t think the illusion would have held up. Apologies for the… Inconvenience.” Ragnor smiled sheepishly.

“Inconvenience?!” Magnus yelped, smacking him again. “I hate you!”

“Evidently not,” Ragnor put his hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “I’m fine, Junior. The situation with me is more dire than you can imagine, I really had no choice. Both Valentine and the Clave are hunting me.”

“Why is the Clave hunting you?” Magnus asked, taking the handkerchief Ragnor offered him to wipe his face.

Ragnor sighed, turning away. “Apparently they’ve decided that I’m responsible for magically brainwashing the shadowhunter children that I taught. That I’m the reason why Alec and Izzy’s generation is causing so much trouble. They want me tried for illicit use of magic and treason. You know what that means if they catch me.”

“And you couldn’t have told me what your plan was before dying violently in my arms?!”

“I couldn’t risk a fire message!”

Magnus glared at him, though he knew that Ragnor was right. “So what’s your plan now, hmm? Stay here and hope no-one drops by?”

“Well I was rather banking on staying with you until I find a new residence.” Ragnor admitted, “though if that’s too much for you I could understand.”

“No,” Magnus answered, “I’m not letting you out of my sight for the forseeable future.”

Ragnor smiled, and clapped Magnus on the back. “I knew I could count on you.” He conjured a portal, and stepped through. Magnus looked around, frowning, and followed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Magnus asked. “We need the antidote to Jocelyn’s potion.”

“Ah, yes. Well…” Ragnor waved his hand, four suitcases appearing behind him. “About that. It’s written in the Book of the White.”

Magnus nodded, levitating Ragnor’s cases and taking them into the guest room. “And?”

“And… Camille borrowed it. And you know what she’s like with borrowing things…”

“You gave the most powerful spell book in the world to Camille?! Have you lost your pale green mind?!” Magnus could feel a headache coming on.

Ragnor tutted at him. “Well, it was before I knew what an evil little wretch she was, of course. It was when the two of you were still together and you were intent on hiding what an abusive little cow she was. Still, nothing to be done about it now. Just send Raphael to get it from her, I’m sure he won’t mind. Such a sweet boy. How is he, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t describe Raphael as sweet,” Magnus said dryly. “But he’s doing fine. Great, even. He overthrew Camille, he’s running the Hotel DuMort. I have no idea what he did with Camille, but I can’t see him giving her up easily. She’s caused havoc for the clan, she turned Clary’s best friend without his consent, so that opened a whole can of worms. God, Ragnor, I really could have used you the last few months, you know that?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you as much as I should have, Junior. But I would have been even less use to you dead.” Ragnor pointed out, taking a seat on the sofa and patting the space next to him. “Now, come and tell me all about this person who’s gotten you heartbroken again.”

Magnus’ shoulders slumped. “I’m not a child anymore, Ragnor.”

“And yet you still give your heart away as freely as you did when I first met you..”

With a sigh, Magnus sat next to the other man. “It’s Alec. Lightwood.”

“But he’s a shadowhunter.” Ragnor frowned, “how in the blazes did that happen?”

“I wish I knew,” Magnus snorted, leaning heavily against his friend, “when we met, he looked at me with such… Helpless wonder. It’s been so long since anyone’s looked at me like that. And then I found out how open and good his heart is, and how fiercely he loves his sister, how loyal he is to justice rather than to the Clave. He’s brave, and kind, and totally, utterly unavailable. How could I not fall for him?”

Ragnor gave Magnus a little squeeze. “Has he given any indication that he feels the same way?”

“I know he does, that’s the worst part,” Magnus explained. “But of course, it’s even more complicated for him than it is for your average shadowhunter; he’s gay and trans and the eldest of his family. And Izzy’s dating Clary, so he feels like he has to make a good match to keep her safe. So he’s determined to marry some silly Clave puppet. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I can’t imagine Maryse and Robert would be too happy about him dating a downworlder, male or otherwise.”

“Exactly. I set myself up to get hurt… Again.” Magnus huffed, “you’d think I’d learn after 450 years.”

Ragnor smiled. “You have always been a romantic, Bane, even when you were a young man fresh from the depths of hell. From the very moment I met you, a twenty-three year old, beaten down and taught to kill and torture, and yet still so desperate to be loved, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to protect you from people like your father and Camille, people would bruise you with false promises and pretty words. But that’s all they are, Junior. Bruises. And bruises heal.”

“This time it’s different,” Magnus shook his head, turning to face Ragnor. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in decades. Not since Camille. I just feel in my gut that there’s something destined here. And he’s actually… Good. He’s a good man. I just know that there’s something tangible between us, something that could work.”

“Then fight for him.”

Magnus blinked in surprise. “I have.”

“Have you?” Ragnor prodded. “Can you say with conviction that you’ve done absolutely everything you could to make him understand how serious you are about him? Because I knew Alec quite well when he was a boy, right up until he left the academy at eighteen. And I know that he has the strength to defy the Clave and his parents. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again, if he thinks the fight is worth it.”

“So he doesn’t think I’m worth it?” Magnus asked, his heart sinking.

“Think about it critically, Junior. Alec barely knows you, and your reputation in the Clave is that you’re a playful siren. After all that business with Will, do you think your file is particularly complimentary? There’s a good chance that Alec thinks you’re just flirting with him, that you’re not in it for the long-term. Shadowhunters fall in love for life; he won’t undertake a romantic relationship lightly. Have you told him how you really feel? How deeply you feel it?”

Magnus pressed his lips together. “I’ve told him I care for him. But I don’t suppose I’ve really said that I want a relationship with him. Not really. God, you don’t think he thinks I just want to sleep with him, do you?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” Ragnor assured him. “But it wouldn’t hurt to lay it all out, would it?”

“You’re right. I hate that you’re always right.” Magnus grouched, crossing his legs. “Now, do you want whiskey or port?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alec tossed and turned for hours that night. Izzy and Clary had come back looked haggard and drained, and at first they hadn’t wanted to tell him about Ragnor, but he got it out of them eventually. He couldn’t imagine what Magnus was going through; Ragnor’s file had mentioned that he’d basically adopted Magnus when he was a young man, which meant they’d been close for over four hundred years. Alec could barely fathom losing Izzy, let alone someone he’d known twenty times that long. It took everything in him not to run to the loft to comfort the other man, but Izzy’s insistence that Magnus wanted space helped with that. He’d texted both Magnus and Cat his condolences anyway, and gotten brief thank yous in reply. Cat had entreated him not to worry about them, reminding him that he needed to go into the surgery with no stress.

It was easier said than done when the man you loved was hurting so much.

Alec sat up in bed, eyes wide, hair askew.

Loved?

He switched on his bedside light, and shuffled up so he was sitting with his back against the headboard. Did he really love Magnus? They’d only known each other for a month, they’d spent only a few hours alone together in all that time. Was that really enough for Alec to fall in love?

Like any man his age, he pulled his ipad into his lap and turned to Google.

The first page that came up was Cosmo, and he dismissed that out of hand. He’d heard Izzy ranting about how shitty that magazine was one too many times. Next down was a quiz on a dating site, and Alec shrugged, clicking on it.

“How to tell if it’s love or infatuation. Huh.” Alec muttered. He glanced at the clock. He had to be at the hospital in nine hours. He’d survived on four hours’ sleep before now; he’d be fine. “Alright, let’s do this. Number one,” he read, “when asked to list your partner’s flaws you…”

There were three choices, and he picked the one that said ‘can think of some small things.’ Magnus was a little alienating at times, though Alec had come to learn that it was part of a facade to keep people at arms’ length. He was pushy, and sometimes he was rude. But it never ceased to make Alec smile when Magnus cursed people out.

“God, I’m so fucked,” Alec hissed, clicking onto the next page.

Most of the questions were easy, and he tried not to think about the individual answers too much. When he finished, the site had to calculate the result, which seemed to take a goddamn eternity. Alec bit his lip when he saw that according to his answers, he was in love. It wasn’t even a surprise.

There was only one thing to do.

Throwing on a jumper, Alec let himself out of his room and padded next door. When he knocked on Izzy’s door, she answered it straight away, grinning at him for a moment before yelping and slamming it shut in his face.

His little baby sister had been wearing lingerie.

Alec turned to leave, but then Izzy opened the door again and yanked him into her room. “What the hell was that?!” Alec whisper yelled, shuddering with disgust.

“I thought you were Clary!” Izzy hissed back, now wearing a silk robe. “We were texting!”

“Can’t you have sex in real life like normal people?!”

Izzy glowered at him. “We’re holding out for the right time,” she insisted. “Now, why are you awake? You have surgery in like ten hours!”

“Oh. Right.” Alec scratched the back of his head. “Alright, I’m just gonna say it. I love Magnus.”

For a moment, Izzy looked at him expectantly, her eyebrow quirking when she realised that Alec was done speaking. “Right. And?”

“What do you mean and? That’s the whole reason I’m here!”

“You’ve only now realised that you love Magnus?” Izzy asked slowly.

Alec nodded. “Why? How long have you known?”

“How long have you known him again?”

“A month.”

“Like three and a half weeks, probably.” Izzy shrugged, and Alec glared at her. “Oh, come on! You’re Alec, you don’t get passing crushes. Remember at the academy, that boy who picked up your stele and handed it back to you that one time? You were like obsessed with him for-”

“Okay, I get it!” Alec sighed. “So what do I do about it?”

Izzy sat down on the edge of her bed. “You really wanna know?”

Alec nodded, putting his hands behind his back and knotting them together.

“You ask him out, marry him, have his adopted babies and live happily ever after.”

“Come on, I’m seriously asking for your advice here.” Alec grumbled, and Izzy sighed, looking up at him. “I can’t do that. I have to-”

“Alright, let me put this another way, big brother.” Izzy tried, “how about we just do something wild, like live for ourselves instead of living for the Clave? I’ve been through a deruning trial, and honestly? The only thing I was scared to lose was you. And even if I had been deruned, I knew deep down that you would never have abandoned me. So… What do we have to fear? Really?”

Alec sat down next to her on the bed. “It’s our responsibility to protect downworlders.”

“That’s true.” Izzy allowed, “but even if we got deruned, we could still work to protect downworlders. Give the pack legal advice, help the warlocks maintain order, liaise with the vampires… There’s no one way to make change, Alec. The two of us would figure it out.”

“What about my transition? My medical bills?”

Izzy smirked, nudging him teasingly. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Magnus is the epitome of sugar daddy.”

Alec blanched. “Never, ever say that again.”

“Oh, come on,” Izzy giggled, “like you hadn’t noticed how sophisticated and sexy he is?”

“Shut up,” Alec grumbled, his cheeks hot.

“Seriously, though, there’s no way Magnus would let you lose your prescription. He cares about you.”

Alec nodded, rubbing his knees. “So the next time I see him, I should just…”

“Run up to him and kiss him.”

“Tell him how I feel. Ask him out.” Alec corrected her. “God, if I think about kissing him I won’t think of anything else. And I want to do this right, I don’t want to just rush in dick first. I want to… Well, I don’t want to wait. But I don’t want to rush, either.”

Izzy hummed, looking at her bedroom door. “I know the feeling.”

“I should get some sleep,” Alec said quietly, getting up from the bed. “Got a big day tomorrow.”

As he let himself out of Izzy’s room, he almost walked into Hodge, who looked like he was dressed for a mission. Hodge nodded at him, and went to push past him, but Alec held out his hand to grab the other man’s waist.

“What are you doing?”

Hodge looked around to see if there were any witnesses, and stepped a little closer to Alec. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Alec shrugged.

“I’m meeting Raj in the grounds. We’ve been… Talking.” Hodge whispered, worrying his lower lip. “You get it, don’t you? No-one can know.”

“Raj? Really?” Alec quirked his eyebrow. “Of course, man, your secret’s safe with me. Have fun.” He smiled slightly, a little confused, but he let Hodge go. He’d never, not for a moment, clocked a queer vibe from either Hodge or Raj, but then Alec hadn’t met many cis gay men who’d be okay with his… Situation. He let himself back into his room, shoulders heavy with exhaustion, and put himself to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maryse hadn’t woken Alec up herself since he was a child.

She stood over his bed, watching him sleep for a moment. Just one more second, she promised herself, her eyes drinking in the sight of him relaxed and at peace. There were nervous butterflies in her stomach, and she sent up the fourth prayer of the day to the angel, a prayer that she was doing the right thing. That this would make Alec happy. This was what people like him were meant to do. This is what had to happen for Alec to have a normal, happy life. A productive life.

Despite all of her inner coaxing, there was still a part of her that niggled, telling her that she was overlooking something. She was missing something, there was something that wasn’t right.

“Mom?” Alec groaned, squinting up at her.

Maryse smiled down at him, bending to stroke his hair back from his face. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Weirded out that you’re watching me sleep,” Alec answered, forcing himself up to a sitting position. “What’s going on?”

“I thought it would be nice to have a moment alone before the madness descends.” Maryse explained. “I… I just want to make sure. Just once. You want this, don’t you, Alec? This is what you want?”

Alec rubbed at his eyes, frowning. “That didn’t seem to matter before. This is what I have to do.”

“Yes, well…” Maryse looked away, pursing her lips. “That was before. So I’m asking you, do you want this?”

“Yeah,” Alec admitted, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I do, mother. I promise. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open.”

Maryse nodded, and got up, brushing down her business suit. “Well, then, up you get. Would you like a glass of water?”

Alec sighed, running his hand through his hair. He hadn’t expected his mother to get cold feet, but the situation with Valentine and the Clave had everyone on edge, he supposed. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

It was odd, the idea that this was the last time that he’d ever put on his binder. He looked at himself in the mirror for a long moment, running his hands up and down his binded chest. It didn’t feel real. He didn’t feel excited, exactly. Mostly he was dreading being stuck in bed for a week, and the post-surgery depression that Cat had warned him about.

A few minutes later, Maryse came back with a glass of water and Izzy hot on her heels. Alec pulled a t-shirt on over his binder and took the glass from his mother, drinking half of it in one so he didn’t have to break the slightly awkward silence in the bedroom. Izzy rushed forwards to give him a hug, resting her chin on his sternum to look up at him.

“I’m so proud of you for going after what you want. You know that, don’t you?” She said softly.

“Can we not act like I’m going to my death,” Alec huffed, though he squeezed her tightly.

Izzy grinned, and pulled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alec was grateful that he didn’t have to greet the Clave delegates at the hospital, but it was unnerving being alone in a room meant for four beds, with six or seven middle aged cis men muttering together, shooting him nervous glances as Cat took his bloods and checked his vitals. Maryse was trying to placate them, though she looked more unnerved than they did. Catarina didn’t seem phased, ignoring them completely as she worked, and Alec kept his eyes fixed on her.

“You feeling alright?” Cat checked, pumping the blood pressure cuff closed on his arm.

“I wish people would stop asking me that.” Alec grumbled.

Cat laughed, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“I should be asking you if you’re alright.” Alec pointed out, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Catarina.”

“He lived a good, long life,” Cat replied, shrugging one shoulder. “He was ready to go. It is what it is.”

“Are his readings good?” Izzy asked, wringing her hands together where she stood next to his bedside.

“They’re perfect.” Cat smiled, “you did a good job at avoiding stress, well done.”

Alec returned her smile, leaning back into the pillow as she reached for the IV, pulling it towards them. He chose not to look as she hooked him up to it, wrinkling his nose and fixing his eyes on the door.

Magnus was standing there, watching.

He could have been standing there for ages, or he could have just arrived, but all Alec could think was that he looked devastating. He was wearing a purple velvet jacket with a black shirt, pressed to perfection. His hair was all done up, his make-up dark and sultry, and in his hand was a beautiful bouquet of flowers that matched his jacket and highlights perfectly. Alec opened his mouth to say something, but his voice died in his throat as Magnus stepped forward, intent clear on his face.

The Clave representatives were shocked into silence, as was everyone aside from Maryse, who rushed forwards to meet Magnus halfway. “Leave this place, warlock. You are not needed here.” She hissed at him, but Magnus held up his hand.

“Maryse, this is between me and your son. I’ll leave if he asks me to.” He gritted out, and Alec’s heart stuttered in his chest. Magnus lifted his eyes to meet Alec’s, swallowing hard.

“Alec?” Izzy asked, “are you alright?”

“I-I…” Alec’s mouth was so dry, his eyes unblinkingly staring at Magnus. “Wh-?”

“I just wanted you to know…” Magnus squared his shoulders, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m going to be here for you forever. Forever, Alexander. Because I think I’m damned close to falling in love with you. And… I just wanted you to know. No matter what surgeries you get, or don’t get, or what you decide to do with your life, no matter what you say. I’m here. Right here.”

Alec was still for a beat, everyone in the room staring at him, looking for his reaction. He slowly got up from the bed, plucking the IV out of his hand as Cat and Izzy moved aside, speechless. Magnus looked almost afraid as Alec stepped towards him, but the moment was broken by Maryse putting her hand on Alec’s shoulder.

“Alec, think about what you’re-”

“Enough.” Alec gritted out, shrugging off her hand and closing the distance between himself and Magnus. There was a split second where they stood there, looking at each other, all the eyes in the room on them and the space between their lips, waiting for Alec to make a choice.

For Alec, there was nothing he could do, nothing, but grasp the lapels of Magnus’ beautiful jacket and pull him into a kiss. Magnus made a soft noise of surprise, but his hands quickly flew up to the sides of Alec’s neck, holding him as their lips moved together. Alec’s mind was blissfully blank, relaxing into it, one arm looping around Magnus’ waist and pulling him closer. At the sound of another wounded noise from the back of Magnus’ throat, Alec pulled back, grinning breathlessly as Magnus chased his lips.

“You…” Magnus cleared his throat, eyes darting all over Alec’s face. “You never cease to amaze me, Alexander.”

Alec bit his lip, knowing that if he didn’t the force of his smile would break his face. All of a sudden, the voices whispering around them reached his ears, and his eyes widened a little, mouth falling open. “What did I just do?”

“What is the meaning of this… This display, Maryse?!” Consul Malachi sneered, “are you mocking us?! Are you mocking my granddaughter?!”

Maryse shook her head, eyes bugging out. “N-no, Consul, no, of course not. No…”

The Clave representatives followed Malachi as he stormed out of the room, and Maryse followed them, desperately trying to placate them. Alec watched them go, breathless from the most confusing mix of anxiety and elation. He felt Magnus’ hand wrap around his own, and squeezed it lightly.

“Alec!” Izzy appeared in front of them, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with unshed tears. “I am so proud of you.”

“That was maybe the most romantic thing I’ve seen in centuries.” Catarina agreed, letting Magnus pull her into a hug. “You’ve still got it in you, huh?”

Magnus shrugged, torn between smiling at her and Alec. “I didn’t expect the audience, but… Oh.” He noticed, finally, that he’d dropped the flowers he’d gotten for Alec, and bent to pick them up. Izzy’s phone beeped, and she fished it out of her pocket.

Alec laughed, running his hands through his hair as Magnus presented them to him. “Fuck. That just happened.”

“Yes, it did.” Magnus nodded, licking his lips, which were still tingling a little. “And now you’re going to climb back into that bed and let the rest of us look after you.”

“What about my mother?” Alec asked, looking at the door where Maryse and the others had made their hasty exit.

Izzy held out her phone to Alec with a grim look on her face. “Mom’s the least of our worries right now.”

Clary: LYDIA JUST TRIED TO TAKE THE MORTAL CUP BACK TO IDRIS AND IT’S GONE.

“How can it be gone?!” Alec demanded, taking the phone from Izzy’s hand and calling Clary. “Well, where is it?!”

“Alec, you’re having surgery, let me and Izzy deal with this.” Clary entreated him.

“Uh, I think the fuck not. If the Mortal Cup is missing then we need to find it. Surgery can wait.” He covered the mouthpiece for a moment, looking at Catarina. “Surgery can wait, right?”

Cat nodded, squeezing his arm. “There’s no way your blood pressure is low enough right now. Thanks to a certain someone,” she glared playfully at Magnus, who toyed with his ear cuff sheepishly, “you’re too worked up for this. It was already going to be tricky to keep the balance between angel blood and mundane blood. So… Go save the world, kiddo. Surgery can wait.”

“Surgery can wait,” Alec repeated into the phone, “we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment that Alec, Izzy and Magnus got back to the institute, it was clear that Lydia’s leadership had failed miserably. Everyone was rushing around with no particular direction, checking every nook and cranny of the institute like the Mortal Cup had simply rolled under someone’s bed. Magnus felt a stirring of admiration as he watched Alec transform right in front of him, from surgery patient to leader. Alec’s spine straightened, his chin lifted, his eyes lit up with authoritative pride. He called out for everyone to stop, and every single person froze in their tracks.

“What on Earth is going on?” He demanded, “I want you all to take a deep breath. Get to your stations and start combing through the security tapes. Izzy, take the day Clary returned. Clary, take the day after. Lydia, assign everyone a day to check. It’s been almost ten days since the cup was handed over. The cameras must have caught something. Raj,” he pointed at the shadowhunter, gesturing for him to come over.

“Actually, I have something to brief Clary and Izzy on,” Magnus admitted, “can I steal them for a few moments?”

Alec nodded. “Lydia! Clary and Izzy are with Magnus, reassign their days.”

“Got it.” She confirmed, turning to the dozen or so shadowhunters who’d assembled in front of her, seemingly relieved that Alec had taken over. Perhaps she was more of a soldier than a leader, after all.

“What do you need me for?” Raj asked, his hands on his hips. As Magnus walked away to talk to Clary and Izzy, Alec pulled Raj aside.

“Did you see anything last night?”

Raj’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why would I have seen anything?”

“This isn’t the time to worry about your reputation, Raj, I know about you and Hodge. Your secret’s safe with me.” Alec promised, folding his arms.

“Alec, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You… You and Hodge met up last night, in the grounds? Right?” Alec asked slowly, dread creeping into his chest.

Raj snorted. “What?! Me and Starkweather? In his dreams!”

Alec grasped Raj’s arms tightly, looking him in the eye. “Do you swear to me that you and Hodge aren’t having an affair? It’s important, Raj. Please.”

“I swear!”

“Fuck! Everyone!” Alec wheeled around, “it’s Hodge. Hodge stole the cup. Has anyone seen Hodge since last night?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I managed to figure out what Ragnor was looking for.” Magnus explained, leaning on the table in front of him. “The antidote recipe is in the Book of the White. Ragnor was looking for this,” he held up a fabric bookmark, “he had it in his pocket. I assume he was going to track the owner with it.”

“Have you tracked the owner?” Clary asked, and Magnus nodded.

“It’s Camille. The vampire who turned Simon.”

Clary groaned. “She just keeps popping up.”

“She was a very popular part of downworlder society before her fall,” Magnus shrugged, “but the point is, we need to get the Book of the White from her if we want to wake your mother.”

“Can you call Simon and ask him to talk to Raphael?” Izzy asked Clary, who nodded, already pulling out her phone. “Are you alright?” She pressed, quietly, once Clary was out of earshot.

Magnus smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine, Isabelle. It was a shock, but Ragnor’s at peace now.” Bloody bastard’s living it up in my loft, Magnus thought bitterly, guilt at lying to his shadowhunter friends twisting in his stomach. “Besides… I have something a lot more pleasant to focus on now.”

“I’ll say,” Izzy grinned, elbowing him in the ribs. “That was one hell of a moment, back there. I had goosebumps.”

“So did I,” Magnus admitted, eyes glazing over a little at the memory of the kiss.

“Simon said he’d talk to Raphael about questioning Camille,” Clary reported, flicking her hair over her shoulder and looking between Magnus and Izzy’s smiles. “Did I miss something here?”

“Magnus and Alec kissed at the hospital in front of my mom and the Clave. It was brilliant.” Izzy beamed, and Clary laughed in disbelief.

“Wow. I wish I’d been there. I’m so happy for you, Magnus.”

“Hopefully there’ll be more desperate dramatic kisses in our future,” Magnus smirked, “I’m sure you’ll catch one of them. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not be involved in this Camille business. We have an unpleasant history.”

“Of course, Magnus. You’ve done plenty already,” Izzy assured him, “go and find Alec.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alec was in the office, Lydia sitting in the chair behind the desk as Alec perched next to her, watching the security footage of Hodge taking the cup. Magnus knocked on the door, letting himself in when Lydia called.

“Any luck?” He asked, and Alec nodded.

“It was Hodge. I saw him last night, he must have had the cup. I’m such an idiot, I could have stopped him…” Alec sighed, scratching his forehead.

“He would have killed you, Alec, you weren’t armed,” Lydia pointed out, her eyes still on the screen in front of them. “He must have had help to get through the outer wards with that punishment rune active. I’ll keep combing through the footage with the others. I think…” She sighed, getting up from the chair. “I think this is your office again now, Alec.”

Alec didn’t really know what to say. “Thank you.”

“I think it’s become quite clear that I’m not ready to lead an institute by myself,” she shrugged, glancing at Magnus. “And perhaps I still have a few things to learn about being a shadowhunter.”

“It’s decent of you to admit that,” Magnus offered.

“Nothing more than common sense,” Lydia insisted, smiling at Alec a little longingly as she lingered in the doorway.

“I’m sure you’ll be a good leader with a few years’ experience working with downworlders rather than against them.” Alec told her, and she pressed her lips together, hesitating a moment before slipping out.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Magnus crossed the room to Alec’s side, knotting his hands together behind his back. “So…”

Alec looked up from the screen, smiling a little. “So…?”

“You don’t regret it, do you? Kissing me in front of your mom and all those people? It was…”

“Great? Iconic? Impulsive? Terrifying? Wonderful? All of the above?” Alec smiled, spinning his chair around so Magnus was stood between his legs. “I don’t regret a second of it. I only regret I didn’t get my head out of my ass sooner.”

Magnus smiled. “Good.”

“So, uh… You wanna get a drink sometime?” Alec asked tentatively, getting to his feet and winding his hand into Magnus’.

“I’d like that, yes.”

“What have you done, Alec?!” Maryse burst into the room, wild eyed with rage and tears. “To us?! This family?!”

Alec jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice, but collected himself quickly, stepping around Magnus. “This isn’t about you.”

“You are lucky that your father is busy trying to smooth things over with the Consul, because he was intent on coming here and beating you black and blue!” She shouted, her voice breaking in the middle. “You humiliated us in front of the most respected members of the Clave. You humiliated him. Why? Why would you do this to us? After everything we’ve done for you, the allowances we’ve made-”

“Let him try and hit me,” Alec snarled, “I’ll be ready for him this time.”

“What do you-” Maryse stopped short, the anger fading from her face, “What are you talking about?”

Alec snorted, putting his hands on his hips. “He threatened me before he left, shoved me around. Said if I didn’t do what he said, he’d have me deruned and killed. Said he had another son that wasn’t broken.”

“He said he’d have you killed?” Maryse asked quietly, sniffing back tears. “Why did you do this? Why did you go against him?”

“Because this is what I want.” Alec answered. “I’ve done what you want for a long time. I’ve done my duty. And the Clave still hate me. They will always hate me, Mom, there’s nothing either of us can do about that. So I may as well be fucking happy. And this man,” he pointed at Magnus, “makes me happier than anything else in the world. Doesn’t that count for something?!”

“The angels didn’t create us to be happy, Alec.”

“I don’t care.” Alec sighed, shaking his head. “I just don’t care. I’m tired. I’m exhausted, actually. I’m not living my life your way or anybody else’s. I’m living it mine.”

Maryse shook her head. “I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“And all,” Maryse’s voice caught in her throat as her eyes fell on Magnus, “for a downworlder.”

Magnus pursed his lips, averting his eyes from her before he said something that would make the situation worse.

“If you just got to know him…” Alec started, reaching out for her, but she was already gone, running from the room with her hand pressed to her mouth. “Well…” He turned to face Magnus, “that was… Not as bad as it could’ve been.”

“I’m sorry that they’re like that.” Magnus said, “you deserve better.”

“I know. I have Izzy,” Alec shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. “That’s enough. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about hormones.”

Magnus smiled. “You know, I’ve been brewing hormone potions for decades. I have quite a few trans clients. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“No needles?” Alec asked before he could think better of it, and Magnus grinned.

“Don’t tell me big, strong shadowhunter, Alexander Lightwood, is scared of injections?”

“Not scared. Just… Well, they’re not fun.”

“Alright, I’ll grant you that,” Magnus conceded, “not that I’d know. I’m not sure I’ve ever been on the pointy end of a needle.”

“What, no weird kinky roleplay with Florence Nightingale?” Alec teased.

Magnus threw back his head and laughed, and Alec watched him with an expression almost identical to a stray puppy that had just been rescued from the pound. “Surprisingly, no, no kinky encounters with Florence Nightingale. Freud, on the other hand…”

“God,” Alec groaned, snorting so hard that it hurt his nose. “I know enough about that guy not to ask.”

“Of course Ragnor taught you about Freud, old pervert,” Magnus grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll be sure to tease him about that next time I-” His sentence died in his throat, and he looked at Alec, who looked tentatively sympathetic. “Never mind.”

Alec pulled him into a hug, and Magnus sighed, pressing his cheek into the other man’s neck. “For the record,” he mumbled into Magnus’ hair, “I’ll be here for you, too. I didn’t get to say it before, but…” Alec put a little distance between them, enough that he could see Magnus’ eyes. “I’ll support you in any way I can, whenever I can. I’m not wise, not like you, I don’t know what magic words to use to make you feel better like you always do for me, but I’ll do whatever you need me to. I promise.”

Magnus smiled, cupping Alec’s cheek. “You’re wise, Alexander.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Alec grumbled, though he leaned into Magnus’ touch. “I had to take a fucking online quiz to figure out if I liked you.”

“And yet that only makes me like you more.” Magnus admitted.

Alec sighed, smiling slightly. “Yeah?”

“Honestly after that kiss… You could tell me damn near anything and I’d find some way to make it an attractive quality.”

“It was, um…” Alec nodded, putting his hands on Magnus’ hips, “it was good.”

Magnus smiled, rocking up on his toes a little in anticipation. “Do you think there’ll be a repeat performance?”

“Oh, I think so.” Alec whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

Final Chapter

[eternalsterekrecs]

can you recommend some soulmates au fics ?

Well, you should definitely start with our SOULMATES tag! After tag, check all these new recs we have for you (there are so many of them)!

SOULMATES

An Unpredictable Amount of Turtles by skoosiepants

Stiles says, “I have a five year plan. A five year plan to popularity that will tank the minute I meet this guy.”

“I feel like you’re exaggerating,” Scott says, but Scott has a katana-wielding badass waiting for him at the other end of the rainbow, and Stiles has terrariums.

Or—

A soulmate au with turtles and angst.

Honey, Can’t you See (The Bloodstains on my Teeth) by Loup_Aigre, TroubleIWant

“Mr Stilinski.” Deaton’s usually impassive face betrays a hint of surprise today, maybe even disappointment. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

The thing is, magic isn’t like the fairy tales. It’s blood and risk and sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, and anyone who tries to say different is baiting a hook to gut you on. Stiles knows that, has known it since he was a kid and his mother started training him for the inevitable day when he’d need to fight for his life.

That day had come four years ago when she died, and it hasn’t stopped yet.

Of Soulmates, Pseudonyms and Misunderstandings by halcyon1993

Ever since he asked his mother one evening why she had his dad’s name tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, Derek has dreamed of finding his soulmate. There’s only one problem—the name that appears on his wrist on his eighteenth birthday is something he can’t even read.

Weave Soft Spells Over My Sight by AgnesBlue

Derek had blossomed steadily over the past year, growing into his ears and turning even more handsome, if that were possible. But instead of going out and melting the panties off the girls, suddenly he was coming to Stiles all bashed in, demanding that he patch him up like Stiles was some freelance nurse. It was a familiar pattern by now.

AU in which Stiles has been living with the Hales for a few years as their assistant and friend. He needs to deal with Derek, who keeps coming to Stiles with bruises and cuts to be treated, while trying to figure out what the elderly alpha of the Hale pack is up to.

Sometimes It Just Works by MellytheHun

“Fic where, in a fit of post-break-up, drunken depression, stiles throws together a truly pathetic love spell (really, Lydia would be so unimpressed she’d probably disband their weekly magic lessons) in an attempt to find the perfect partner.

But, like everything else in Stiles’ life (and as proof to how much joy the universe gets pulling one over on him) everything goes horribly wrong and instead of the feathery light, rose petal path he’d been expecting to appear and lead him to his true love, a half naked man with harlequin biceps and a beard that could rival most lumber jacks appears in his minimalist studio apartment looking grumpy and endearingly confused.

Cue Stiles’ imminent freak out that includes shoving the man in his hall closet because “Oh my god, I manifested a burly mountain man out of thin air!!”

When really, the spell had just transported Derek from whatever secluded cabin he’d been holed up in for the last few years right into Stiles’ life.”

all else perished by keskasi

There are only so many times a person can fall before the world becomes a vertical blur. Life, Stiles has found, is much the same way. There are only so many times a person can be born, live, and die before the epochs start to smear into one long, eternal day. Or night, as the case may be.

soulmates tbh series by bleep0bleep

Stiles is probably the world’s greatest cynic about soulmates. He couldn’t care less, except that he’s just found his.

Your Mark on my Skin by afullrevolution

Everyone had a mark scrawled somewhere across their body. A name, usually a signature to represent their soul mate, their one and only true love. Stiles has known who his mark belonged to since the third grade. He doesn’t understand how Derek can be so oblivious.

i feel you in every heartbeat by warlocks

Suddenly his entire body felt tingly and sensitive and he could swear gravity had failed on him just then; he couldn’t feel the chair he was sitting on, or where he’d planted his feet on the floor, or the clothes he was wearing, or the pen he was holding, and then his vision started blurring and morphing into a picture of some place that was not his classroom.

“Oh, shi—”

“—it,” he finished with a different voice.

Or, the AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they’re temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it’s his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

Soul-Mark by PaigeRhiann

His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised. The person he’s destined to be with. Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.

“Genim S.” He repeats

“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, it is” he nods.

And I Never Thought I’d Ever Say Forever by suchfun

“That was stupid.” He bats the kid’s hands away and rearranges the items in the bag. He’s mixed canned goods and dairy, does this kid even know how to efficiently pack a bag? “The TiMER is a gift.” He says it automatically, because that’s what his mom says. That’s how he was brought up. That’s what he’s supposed to think.

He used to believe it, back when he was sixteen and idealistic, before he actually got his TiMER, back when he was so sure that his soulmate would be Paige. Back when he believed in the romcoms, in his mom’s books, in the elaborate advertisements for TiMERs—the ones with all the interviews with loving real life couples, with testimonials to their effectiveness and their ability to make you happy and fulfilled, with guarantees of an improved quality of life and even life expectancy. Back when he thought meeting his soulmate was an inevitability, not a slim possibility.

Colors by PencilTrash

Soulmates AU: When soulmates visit the same place on the same day, they can see color in the places where the other has been. It allowed you a world full of color for one single day. A day.The universe was cruel like that.It gave soulmates a single day to find each other and seal the bond between them permanently or the color would vanish forever… and so would the bond.

(im)Perfect System by theroguesgambit

Stiles has always felt pretty lucky about his soul mark. After all, how many conversations tend to start with “This is private property”?

(Apparently more than you’d think.)

Countdown by actingup

0000d 00h 00m 37s

He always imagined meeting his soul mate would take forever; that time would slow down and he would see them walking towards him, he would know without a doubt who it was. It might have been someone he’s seen before but never talked to, or it might be a complete stranger that he never would have guessed. He didn’t imagine it in front of about a hundred people, maybe two-hundred, at a Dolphin show.

Soulmate - Delayed Reaction by Verya

When a person turns eighteen their soulmates first words to them appear on the inside of their dominant wrist. Of course it had to be the week when Stiles broke his hand!

Mental Synchronization by kits_lightning

“All at once everything is different, now that I see you

Now that I see you.”

Stiles ended with jazz hands and Scott laughed and took the seat across from him.

“Keep laughing, buddy. I haven’t forgotten Isaac’s two month obsession with Taylor Swift before you two met.”

“We agreed never to bring that up again.”

~*~*~*~*~*~OR the Soulmate AU where you sing when you’re soulmate does.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by yodasyoyo

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek’s voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don’t exist?

Second Chances by rootbeer

“A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. ‘Excuse me’; 'thank you’; 'hello’. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you’ or 'Wow you’re really pretty’. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world’ tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret.”

and i thought it only a dream by bleep0bleep

Derek only started getting the dreams a few years ago, and he knows what it means, his soulmate is younger than him. Laura teases him incessantly about it, but Derek doesn’t pay her any mind. The dreams are fuzzy at best, he only has a fleeting glimpse of plaid shirts and laughter and a pink mouth.

As Laura and he start on their roadtrip back to California from New York, the dreams start to get clearer. Every state they cross, Derek can see the outline of his soulmate get more defined, knows that he has brown eyes, a gorgeous smile and fluffy hair that looks soft to touch.

[arazialotis]

Champagne Soaked Misery

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: Around 1500

Summary: The reader is searching to drown away painful memories by whatever means possible. Although Dean believes he’s doing right by her, their encounter leads to a confrontation of pent up emotions.

Warnings: Angst, Language

@misguidedconqueress Thank you as always for reviewing and editing! Couldn’t do it without you! *hugs*

For me, this is just a hobby, coping skill, and a way to get silly fantasies out of my head. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

---

Dean paced the grimy motel floor. With everything you had been through, he hated the feeling of being separated even though you were just a few doors down. After a few hunts together, he thought things would have bounced back to normal, just like old times when the three of you traveled together.

“She needs time and space.” Sam mentioned, trying to calm Dean, knowing exactly what was on his mind.

“I told her dinner was here an hour ago.” Dean looked at his phone to see if you had responded.

Sam continued looking through case details on his laptop. “She’s probably doing her own thing.” Dean couldn’t handle it anymore, he had to check on you. “I’ll be back.” He told Sam before walking out.

He pounded on your door, and after several attempts, used the key he had swiped from the front desk to enter. He cursed when he realized you were nowhere to be seen. Peeling out of the parking lot, he was determined to find you. He’d be damned if you were to be lost again.

---

Your mind had become your enemy; protruding into life at random moments with excruciating memories and with thoughts you couldn’t act on - refused to act on. So tonight you were going to battle against it as you often did, with distractions of drinks and unsatisfying hookups. The battle would last long enough for you to win the survival of another day until the intrusion repeated the following night (every other night if you were lucky). But the short term victories never were enough to win the war.

Tonight’s battle would be waged at The Orb Lounge. According to a flyer you saw earlier that day in the victim’s apartment, it was Panic! At The Disco night. You didn’t know exactly what that would entail, but you knew you wanted in. Your wardrobe had accumulated a collection of racy attire since you had last been with the boys. A little black dress, with sections of the sides cut out, would do for the night. The dress left the tattoos that covered the scars on your back and left hip exposed. Along with black stilettos, you wore a black choker and dark purple lipstick to complete the look. Traditionally, you would have never been caught dead in such a style, but time had changed you. Besides, you didn’t want to waste effort in the chase, you wanted to make it obvious what you were on the hunt for.

You had taken a cab down, though you had initially thought of jacking the Impala. By the time you had arrived, the DJ was already in the full swing of things. Apparently, Panic! At The Disco night, was just one long mash up of any and every emo genre band. The place was crowded and full of wandering eyes. Little did they realize, your intentions were the same as theirs.

By your third or fourth drink, you had allowed yourself to be completely free of thought or consequence so when ‘Victorious’ came on you reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of champagne. You used some poor sap’s shoulder to boost your way up onto the bar where you stomped your feet, swung back and forth, and sung along to the chorus. You shook the bottle and laughed as the top popped off spraying the crowd. You chugged down what was left. The DJ soaked up your behavior and although the bartenders were annoyed, they had your credit card and would be sure to write themselves in an extra tip.

---

Dean had been through a few bars already by the time he entered The Orb Lounge. He rolled his eyes at the appearance of the crowd and the overly obnoxious music. It was dense but based on your recent nature, it was a place he might expect to find you. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd trying to get a glimpse of everyone he passed.

The current song faded down. “Let’s keep this party rolling, any requests from the little spitfire tearing up the bar?” The DJ announced over the sound system. “Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time!” You yelled from across the room gaining Dean’s attention.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The DJ bit his lip and transitioned from ‘Victorious.’

You helped up another girl and guy onto the bar, grinding up against them both and passing around a second bottle of champagne. Dean barely recognized you at first, but once he caught sight of the wing tattoos on your back, it was undoubtedly clear. He made his way closer to the bar. It became obvious why a group was crowded around you, from this angle not much was hidden.

Dean caught the attention of a bar tender. “Hey… she needs to tap out.” He ordered.

“Listen man…” He responded. “I know she’s annoying as fuck, but it’s good for business. There’s a bar up the road that would be more your style.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Dean thought quickly on his feet and pulled out his FBI badge. “It’s time for her to go.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, of course, let me just get her card…” He rustled through a pile of receipts. “Good luck getting her down.”

Dean inched closer to you and stood on the foot of a bar stool to gain some height and your attention. “It’s time to go, Y/N.”

“Dean fucking Winchester!” You squealed. “The party's just beginning. Get your ass up here!” You pointed to the girl next you and raised your eyebrows suggesting an easy hook up for him.

“Come on sweetheart. Don’t cause a scene.” He discreetly showed you his FBI badge.

You stopped swinging to the music and glared at him; you knew what a phony he was but that wouldn’t matter to the rest of the crowd.

The bartender backed him up. “We’ll call the bouncer if we have to.”

You sat down on the edge of the bar, handing the empty champagne bottle to the bartender. “You’re stooping real low, assface.” You whispered to Dean.

“Are you going to come quietly?” He impatiently challenged.

You slid off the bar and followed him out into the cold night. “What the hell Dean?” You wasted no time yelling at him.

“What the hell? What the…” He repeated your question. “You have been nothing but a spiral of self-destruction the past six months and I won’t stand for it anymore.” He ordered as he grabbed your shoulder forcing you to continue down the street.

You yanked your arm out of his grip. “Is it guilt or jealousy?”

Dean turned around to look at you, his sigh exaggerated by the cold air. “What?” “Guilt or jealousy that’s driving your savior complex?” You spitefully demanded.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Neither, it’s about being responsible. We are on a case and you're acting like a sorority chick on her first spring break.”

“Last I checked, we were finished for the night. So forgive me if I want to go blow off a little bit of steam rather than sulking in my room. Besides, it never seemed to matter whether we were at a bar or in the middle of a police station if some blonde looked your way.” You snide.

“God, what is with you?” He complained, scuffing his heel against the pavement.

“Like you don’t know?” You challenged. “I can’t go back to pretending everything is normal.”

“You lied to us.” Dean passively defended.

“What other choice did I have?” You pleaded.

“I should have never…” He gritted his teeth unable to continue.

“Never should have what?” You continued after he refused to respond. “Invited me along? Given me a place to stay? Treated me like just another one night stand?” You made suggestions to finish his sentence.

“That’s not fair!” He argued. “My whole world turned upside down. I didn’t know if we could trust you... I didn’t know what would happen next.”

“You could have at least stayed to hear me out. I gave everything to you that night! And that morning… the way you looked at me… like I was just another monster on your hit list. Like the past two years had meant nothing!” You paused pushing down the growing lump in your throat. “... And what that led to…  My own personal hell, specifically customized just for me. Even your stay there could never compare to what I endured…” You didn’t blame him, but you couldn’t help enjoy watching your words cut through; sharing the pain he had given to you.  “So, if it’s not guilt... why are you here, Dean? Why the fuck do you care?”

“... I’m sorry.” He hung his head defeated.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You requested turning back towards the club to drown each and every memory in something or someone.

Your heels clicking on the pavement came to a stop at the sound of his whisper. “Y/N, I love you…” He barely muttered.

So, it’s both then; jealousy and guilt. Your bitterness caged the pull of your heart. You stopped but refused to turn around and face him. “You're too late.”

------

Forever Tags: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith @jotink78 @blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21 @highonpastries @li-ssu @daddy-kink-confirmed @weewooweewoo1212 @carryonmyswansong @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @atc74

Dean X Reader: @akshi8278 @mywillfulwinchester @dainty-hibiscus @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @mrsbatesmotel53 @tacklesackles @creepykatftw

[pllsetskyonice]

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2,900 words

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

In which Yuri gets drunk and Tweets some things he probably shouldn't have.

AO3 link

So @94mercy made this post that headcanoned that Yuri gets drunk one night and talks about the size of Otabek’s dick on social media, and I immediately knew I had to write it. Otherwise known as me just wanting to join in with all the hung!Otabek content that’s been coming out of this fandom in recent weeks. 

(Also tagging @daddybek because that’s where this all started back in February)

They’ve been dating for a few months when it happens.

Yuri goes round to Mila’s for a few drinks after practice one day, and they steadily make their way through a bottle of vodka, laughing and talking about their respective partners. The music is loud and Yuri feels all loose and giggly as he reaches for his phone, taking selfies and documenting their escapades on Snapchat. He’s never been this drunk before, so drunk he’s not even sure what order his memories from the last few hours go in, so drunk that he can barely stand, so drunk that the room is spinning.

He sits down and opens Twitter, starting to type. He doesn’t even think about what he’s Tweeting, just starts a thread and keeps on going until he gets it all off his chest. Mila is grabbing at his hands and pulling him up so they can dance together again, and Yuri’s phone lies on the couch, forgotten.

So he doesn’t see what he’s done until morning.

-

It’s the sound of his phone vibrating loudly on the bedside table that wakes him up. He’s in Mila’s spare bedroom, a small sized room with what feels like the most uncomfortable bed he’s ever slept on, but it evidently didn’t bother him at whatever time he collapsed onto last night. At least he made it into bed, he supposes. That’s an achievement, even if he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

He grabs at his phone, squinting at the screen. It reads 6 AM, and is somehow fully charged, even though he has doesn’t remember plugging it in last night. It’s far too early. Yuri wants nothing more at this particular moment in time than to roll over and go back to sleep to avoid dealing with this hangover from hell, but it’s Otabek that’s calling him, so he supposes that he’d better answer.

“Hello?” he says, his voice sounding all croaky as he unplugs his phone and rolls back onto his back. There’s light streaming in through a gap in the curtains, and Yuri would get up and close them properly, but they’re too far away to deal with right now. Instead, he opts for the easier option: pulling his blankets over his head.

“Yuri, what the fuck?” Otabek asks on the other end of the line. Even in this still half drunk, hungover state, Yuri can tell that this is Not Good. “What were you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?” Yuri replies. He wonders if it’s about his and Mila’s Snapchat stories, but from what he can remember there’s nothing too outrageous on them, just some really bad singing in questionable English to pop songs neither of them like.

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

Yuri fumbles with his phone, opening Twitter with his phone call with Otabek still active in the background. He doesn’t even need to go onto his profile to see it, it’s all over his timeline. “Oh, shit,” he swears as he scrolls through the Tweets. “I don’t even remember posting any of this. I was so drunk, Beka. So drunk. I’m sorry.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Alright buckle in its gonna be a bumpy ride let me tell you a thing or two about the size of @otabekaltin’s dick

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I hope you’re ready bc I sure as hell wasn’t the first time I saw it – tho in fairness he did warn me about it beforehand

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

But I’m gonna be honest here and say I had to take a moment when we did somethinh sexual for the first time bc girl, I couldn’t’ cope

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Shall we talk about the time he fucked me for the first time?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

YES WHAT A WONDERUFL IDEA KETS CARRY ON TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY BOYF’S DICK FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTS

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

After all of the prep (srsly ive never seen so much lube lmao) he finally entered me (is that even the right word idk I’m so drunk rn)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I’ve never felt so full in my whole life it was SO GOOD 10/10 WOULD RECOMMEND (although hands off he’s mine)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

honestly tho I swear the sex gets better every time? He REALLY know what he’s doing with that thing let me tell you

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I did once ask if he needed a licence for it, he didn’t take it well lmao. Anyway, tl;dr: @otabekaltin’s dick is a godsend and

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I am forever grateful that I’ve got to experience such a masterpiece so many different times in so many different positions

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin

Holy mother of god is this true? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS TRUE

Yuri Angels @yuriangels10 · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin, @c_giacometti

AHAHAHA WE’VE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR AGES WE CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING

-

“Yeah, I figured, from the numerous spelling mistakes and yours and Mila’s Snapchat stories from last night,” Otabek says, sighing. “But that doesn’t make this okay, Yuri.”

“I know,” Yuri says miserably as he continues to scroll through the shit storm that’s taken over his Twitter. “Do you want me to delete the tweets?”

“I’m not sure what good that’ll do at this stage,” Otabek says. “They’ve already been screenshotted and reposted too Tumblr and Instagram and Facebook so many times that deleting the original tweets doesn’t mean that people will stop talking about it.”

“True,” Yuri agrees. He hasn’t checked Tumblr yet but he already feels like the Yuri Plisetsky tag will be trending on there, full of screenshots taken from Twitter and detailed posts discussing it all. Instagram will be full of people screaming in the comments, and Facebook will have people criticising his decision to share this all on the internet for everyone to see. No doubt someone has already put together a compilation video on YouTube of closeups of Otabek’s crotch with Yuri’s tweets edited onto it. “I can’t apologise enough for all of this. I’m so sorry.”

-

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Jenna @xxknifeshoesxx · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky

I can’t believe that this is confirmed, what the hell

skate away @quadloop · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @xxknifeshoesxx

Is it just me that rlly wants to know just how big Otabek is now?

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

Nah (I mean it might be bordering the slightly creepy territory but still, SOMEONE FETCH THE GUY A TAPE MEASURE)

-

“I know,” Otabek says. “I’m not happy that this has happened, but it has, so we’ll deal with it – oh no, Victor’s just messaged in the group chat.”

-

Victor: EXPLAIN YOURSELVES

Victor: [multiple screenshots of Twitter threads]

Yuri: …

Yuri: why the hell should we have to explain ourselves to you two??!

Victor: BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE EVERYONE IN THE SKATING WORLD IS TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF OTABEK’S DICK AND HOW MUCH YOU LOVE IT AND WHY DID YOU POST THIS ALL ONTO TWITTER?

Yuri: jesus

Yuri: stop yelling

Yuri: I was drunk and said some things on twitter, it’s not a big deal

Victor: It very clearly is!

Victor: Yakov is going to have your head off over this, I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet

Victor: If you thought he was mad at you after Welcome To The Madness, then you’ve really got another thing coming

Yuri: I can handle yakov thank you

Otabek: I’d make a joke about how if you can handle my dick you can handle anything but somehow I don’t think that would be appreciated

Yuri: oh my god beka

Victor: You’re right, it wouldn’t be appreciated

Yuuri: Maybe

Yuuri: Maybe it doesn’t matter because they’re both consenting adults and what goes on behind closed door isn’t anyone’s business but theirs?

Victor: Yuuri I love you but that’s not the point

Victor: They’re going to get people going on about this for months, in interviews, in articles, online… it’ll come back to haunt you in five years’ time at a party when someone’s flicking through their camera roll and finds the tweets and is like, “oh wow who remembers when?”

Yuri: alright I get it my tweets are a ghost that’ll come back to haunt me

Yuri: can we all please calm down I really don’t want to deal with this rn

Victor: Is that because you’re hungover? Well you should’ve thought about that before you got drunk and posted a bunch of stupid tweets to twitter!

Yuri: *true, not stupid

Yuri: and stfu victor

Yuri: no one cares what you have to say

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

I’M YELLING pic.twitter.com/t35v5f

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

Someone should get yuri drunk more often this is GOLD

Mila Babicheva @mila_b · 20m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I honestly don’t know if I should be apologising or not

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 20m ago

Noooo! Definitely not lmao I WANT TO KNOW ALL THE SECRETS

-

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this banana bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/235g5y

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this cucumber bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43qg5

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this aubergine bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/4gaf35

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this leek bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/98rga3

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this can of dry shampoo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/257g23

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this chair leg bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/5gsgj1

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this table leg bigger than otabek’s dic? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43tg83

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this branch bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/6grg24

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this tree bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/7gr32t

Yurabek For Life @yurabek4life · 6m ago

Replying to @slicetheice

@yuriplisetsky is this dildo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/24gw46

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

u ruined it

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

gtfo my thread

-

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Mila enters, a glass of water in one hand and her phone in the other. Her hair is messy and she obviously didn’t get around to taking off her makeup last night, as her eyeliner and mascara is smudged around her eyes and what’s left of her foundation is decidedly patchy.

“Hey,” she says quietly, walking forward and placing the glass on the bedside table. “Thought you could probably do with a glass of water.”

“Thanks,” Yuri mumbles, reaching for the glass and taking a few small sips. Though his phone call with Otabek has now ended, they’re continuing to text as they both keep an eye on what’s happening on social media. Victor keeps texting him too, and Yakov keeps calling him, but Yuri is ignoring those. He doesn’t need a lecture right now.

Mila shuffles on her feet, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking down at the carpet rather than at Yuri. “I never should’ve got you that drunk last night.”

“You do realise I don’t really give a shit, right?” Yuri replies. Mila’s head snaps up and she stares at him, brow furrowed.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“I don’t care, Mila,” Yuri says. “Maybe in a perfect world I wouldn’t have posted those tweets and sent the figure skating fandom into a meltdown, and maybe people at Google questioning wouldn’t be wondering why there’s been a sudden increase in people Googling what the average penis size in Kazakhstan is, but it’s not the end of the world. Otabek wasn’t best pleased at first but I think he’s getting over it now. If anything, it’s just given everyone another reason to be jealous of the fact that I’m dating him.”

Mila scoffs, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re something else, Plisetsky,” she says. “Are you going to tell me, then?”

“Tell you what?” Yuri asks, feigning ignorance as he continues to scroll through Twitter. He’s trending, but he’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to feel about that given the circumstances.

“How big he is, of course!”

“Fuck no. Get out my room.”

“Technically speaking –”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

-

17 missed calls from Yakov

Yakov: What on earth is going on

Yakov: I hope you have a reasonable explanation for all of this

Yakov: I am concerned about that boy’s influence on you

Yakov: Please answer your phone calls

Yakov: Answer the phone when I call you!

Yakov: ANSWER THE PHONE!!

-

Otabek Altin retweeted

russian fairy @plsetsky · 5h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 1m ago

Replying to @plsetsky

Hell yes he is. ;) #yurisizequeen

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 30s ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @otabekaltin

#yurisizequeen CONFIRMED

-

Worldwide Trends · Change

#yurisizequeen

@yuriplisetsky and @otabekaltin are Tweeting about this

General Election

UK General Election ends in hung parliament

The King and The Skater III

@phichit_chu is Tweeting about this

#mysearchhistory

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve Googled?

Kazakhstan’s Hero

Otabek Altin is now being celebrated for entirely different reasons than the ones you’re thinking of

#thebigmeat

1,257 Tweets

-

Yuri Plisetsky

@yuriplisetsky

Gold medallist Russian figure skater. Otabek Altin’s boyfriend. Size queen.

St Petersburg

Joined March 2014

Born March 1

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky YOU UPDATED YOUR BIO AND I’M YELLING

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I was just showing who I am

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 8m ago

This whole thing is making my day #yurisizequeen @otabekaltin so how well does he take it?

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 8m ago

Now that would be telling ;)

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 7m ago

Is that code for “I’ve never had anyone take it so well before”?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5m ago

Why must I be exposed in this way

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 4m ago

You exposed yourself

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 2m ago

…true

-

Yuri: I’m never drinking with you again.

Mila: Yeah, whatever you say

Mila: I will get you drunk again and get you to spill your secrets all over Twitter

Yuri: NEVER

Yuri: NOT HAPPENING

Mila: Sure, keep telling yourself that

Mila: So, you want to have a few drinks next Friday?

Yuri: …

Yuri: Fine. I’m in.

-

Yuri’s been back at his apartment for a few hours, doing nothing more than curling up on the couch and watching Netflix and contemplating if he can stomach food yet when the doorbell rings. He stares at the door for a few moments, confused, because he no one’s told him they’re coming around. Maybe he left something at Mila’s and she’s decided to drop it off when running errands or something. Sighing, he pauses Netflix, drags himself off the couch and shuffles to the door, his blanket wrapped round his shoulders like a cape.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Yuri demands when he opens the door and sees Otabek of all people standing there. “You decided to just hop on the next plane to St Petersburg or something?”

“Um, yeah,” Otabek mumbles, brushing a hand through his hair as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. With his other hand, he holds up a bag from the local convenience store. “I also got food. Wanted to make sure you were actually going to eat something today.”

Through the thin white plastic of the bag, Yuri spots a familiar label. “You got me Pringles.” They’re one of his favourite foods that he’s not really supposed to eat when he’s training, but they’re also what he really wants right now.

Otabek grins. “I did.”

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Yuri asks, making a grab for the bag. Looking like a kid at Christmas, he takes the lid off the Pringles and tears at the paper/foil one, before taking several crisps out of the tube and putting them all into his mouth at once.

“Well, you’ve told the world about how much you love my dick, but apart from that, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Yuri says through a mouthful of crisps, rolling his eyes. “Come on, get in here.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 13m ago

Look who flew all the way from Almaty just to be here! ♥♥ pic.twitter.com/36uhghefh5

Otabek Altin @otabekatlin · 12m ago

Replying to Yuri Plisetsky

It’s good to be back. ♥♥

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 10m ago

I bet it is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Oh yes ;)