#my precious little green knife cat child

[deadsetobsessions]

Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

-

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

-

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

-

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

-

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

-

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Hi, if its ok to ask .

Slashers x teen reader

The teen reader is fond of sewing after finishing the sketch. If they cant do the method they look it up online when they are able to create it with trial and error they gift the slashers something they made weather be small or big . If anyone attacks them she has a bracelet with a pin cushion filled with pins for attack

I'm kinda confused since you didn't specify what kind of sewing but I tried my best!

Slashers x teen! reader who likes sewing

Michael 🔪

Michael doesn't like sewing obviously, he doesn't get the appeal other than the damage you could cause with the sharp needle/ the presser foot he guess.

But damn he loves your sewing products even if it looks like he glanced at it one time for a second, he thinks they're so cute and especially since you made it all for him?? And him specifically???

One day you took a large amount of your time and made a mini him with a mini knife and he looked pissed off but inside he was pleasantly surprised and pleased and from then on he took it everywhere with him inside his breast pocket.

He witness you having problems with your idea one time and just silently watched you struggle cause he doesn't know what to do either and then walked away after you finally found out how to fix it. It's weird but ig that's his way of looking after you. (he came back an hour later to see what you made even though it might just be halfway done.)

He thinks the hobby itself is a waste of time but takes it back when you gift him cool ass clothings or toys with it. (he totally still thinks it a waste of time, it's just cooler when you do it.)

Your dad doesn't approve of sharp things that could danger YOU but if its for self defense he can let it pass. Although he thinks it's unnecessary. (you have him, why would you need weapons?)

But he approves when he realises they keep you safe. But he thinks they look hideous.

Jason 🪓

He's never really thought of sewing before but it did pique his interest when he saw you doing it one day. He did find your sketching notebook and grew fond of your imagination.

I think Jason's clothes do become very worn out and so you did your best to make a new one for him (which you got from dead victims) and made him a big long sleeved shirt which consisted of forest green, coffee brown and other nature and earthy colors. He was so proud of you, his little kid. :,)

But he likes anything you make, really.

If you're struggling with something you have to find out in your own. Because I don't know where you can look anything up online or any technology in a place such as where Jason lives. But Jason will support you to the best of his abilities.

And oh, if you make any matching articles of clothing for the both of you he will be over the moon. Like matching bear bucket hats or matching patterned pants. He thinks it'll be a great way to let outsiders others know that you two have a connection with each other. (yk, like relation? Family relation?? Idk)

He loves the little small things you can make, like a sewn cat or animal and make it look like a key chain.

If you make a mini him, he might just cry. If you make a mini him and you holding hands like a parent / child way he'll definitely cry. He never even dreamed of such luxury. He's just engulfing you while hugging you like. "oh you precious thing, *sob*"

Jason absolutely freaks out when he saw the bracelet pin cushion. You have a bracelet full of pins, what if they slip out and cut your entire hand off!? But just show him how helpful it is and he'll calm down a little. A little...

Hannibal 🍽️

Hannibal noticed your hobby of sewing after a while of living with him/ visiting you before he took you in (?). He finds the hobby quite adorable and pretty useful. He would love to see your creations after you're done with them.

He may or may not snoop around your sketchbook and act as if nothing happened if you almost catch him.

He compliments whatever you make but gives constructive criticism when needed. And sometimes he looks too deep in what your sewn products are and what they might mean. 💀

this man gets so enthusiastic and happy when you want to make custom clothes for him like ong, a suit made from love from his child and made exactly to his liking?? What could he ask for more? He happily just stands there while you take his measurements.

He occasionally checks up on you while you sew, and although he prefers when you two are in the dinner table together, he won't mind having a meal or two alone. Atleast you eat.

Hannibal acknowledges your errors, not in a bad way but in a way where he sees it as learning process and is very proud of you when you've successfully completed your work.

Talking about sewing, you already know about the kinda expensive shit he gets for you according to your taste. They just seem very valuable no matter how you make them look.

Do it, make matching suits (or yours a dress, however you like it) for the both of you. He has this sick ass introduction where he introduces you as his teenage child and you look like those cool parent & child team in action movies/shows.

He also doesn't approve of sharp things and thinks the pin cushion is a bit odd. They're too obvious and someone might snatch them and make the tables turn so he suggests a more secret area.

Billy n Stu 🎭

Safe to say the both of them thought sewing was boring and takes up too much of time but that wasn't much after they met you.

You literally make their ghostface costumes.

They both love seeing what sorts of things you can make from a lump of small pieces of clothing and a needle/machine. They totally asked you to sew custom clothes for them. (Billy was a bit of an asshole but agreed to give you money because of stu) they couldn't have been happier with the result.

They think sewing is so cool now. And if you make a ghostface / mini them, that's it. Sewing is officially their favourite thing even if they don't do it. They have it on almost every single day.

Billy and stu probably tried to flex on Sidney and Tatum on the things you make for them and they were mildly concerned at the ghostface thing.

Billy will loudly look through your sketchbook in front of you, even though there's nothing to be ashamed of, it's like someone looking through your unfinished drawing sketchbook. (artists can relate.) stu will try to be a but sneaky but fails and goes along with Billy.

These men have no shame, and will proudly and confidently boast about what you make and how good you make it in front of random ass people you don't even know. Even when you're really embarrassed and telling them to stop.

These men will like anything you make and don't really have much to complain about. So they'll give a genuine thumbs up on pretty much anything.

They think the pin cushion is hilarious but make it horror themed and they'll think it's cool. They have no problem with you and dangerous objects and they think this is great for self defense.

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Tidbit Did Someone Say…

… Banba angst?

…

……

………

What? No one? Well too bad. XD

This was inspired, believe it or not, by some lines from the musical version of Little Women. Curious if anyone will recognise them. ^^

Everyone has someone special in the world.

From time to time, he tries to remember who first told him that.

But it’s from one of his distant, more peaceful, pleasant memories, which float like long-lost ghosts through his mind. Faint whispers of light and warmth in the dark coldness that has consumed most of the rest of his life, always slipping away before he can pin them down. So he can never quite figure it out. Was it a parent? A relative? A friend? He can’t remember the last time he had friends or other family, not clearly.

What he does know is that it’s one of the few things he’s always believed, always known to be true.

Even if he can’t precisely recall where the phrase itself had come from, he knows exactly how long he’s had living proof of it. Has been living proof. He can count down to the minute the length of Touwa’s existence, the most important meaning in his life. It’s like time itself hadn’t started moving until that moment. He can remember in perfect detail how, when his brother was not even an hour old, he’d held him in his arms in a bundle of blankets—a little, grasping hand had escaped and accidentally laid hold of his finger, clinging to it on pure reflex. It had been in that moment he’d sworn his very first oath.

Touwa is mine.

It didn’t matter what the world threw at them. No matter how bad things got, Touwa was his reason to continue—whether he was a tiny bundle of warmth sleeping on his chest, a pair of small feet pattering after him, or a scrawny, overconfident young boy. He does sometimes miss being able to fit his brother perfectly in his arms, to cradle him to his chest and shield him from harm, but that time has long since passed. Touwa isn’t a child—not anymore.

But he’s still the only thing that makes it—the darkness, the battle, the world—all worth it.

What little tenderness he’d once had in his nature is almost all gone now. All that’s left is that little cushion around his brother, the one sewn so deep into his heart not even the sharpest knives could cut it out. His only goal is to complete their mission and make sure Touwa makes it through—whether or not he survives is irrelevant. Perhaps it would be better if he doesn’t, to ensure Touwa’s safety from the darkness, the monster, within him; from the fear and hatred he harbours for the rest of the world. Perhaps. For the entire length of his brother’s life, he has lived only for the fight and loving Touwa. Once the battle is done, and Touwa can be happy and move on, there will no more need for him. That should bother him more than it does, but he can’t seem to care about it or see that far. Like time will stop once his brother no longer needs him.

Because even if he can’t remember who originally said it to him, he recalls with absolute clarity the very first words he whispered to Touwa’s newborn ears when he first held him.

Everyone has someone special in the world.

And I have you.

In other news, I now desperately need to see child Banba holding baby Touwa. I need it. GIVE IT TO ME, TOEI.

[sxveme-2]

hidden / din djarin

description: the life of nobility wasn't one for everyone. some would rather duck under the shadows around them, especially after a great betrayal to the name of a planet. but despite being hidden, not everyone can avoid the blinding lights of danger. whether it be those after those who had escaped, or the poor bounty hunter who ended up picking her up. both with a large bounty on their heads.    follow Cloak as she lives the days as an escaped noble, hiding from the eyes of serenno after the fall of count dooku, shacking up with one of the most sought after child and the mandalorian unfortunate enough to have a big heart.

Chapter One: the one where they were both on tatooine

warnings: swearing

words: 3016

     "where did the princess go?" a gruff voice snapped just meters away from where a girl stood. her typical fine and righteous clothing hidden by a dark cloak of navy, one would typically see a hand-maid wear. an onyx mask covering the bottom half of her face, keeping her identity a secret from those around her.

     "the king said she was seen last near her quarters, come general, let's go look." another voice grumbled. the girl listened closely as their footsteps grew quiet while their conversation fell silent down the marble hallway.

      daring a glance, she peaked her head around the large granite pillar. when she saw no one in sight, she slipped across the hall. the flats of her boots creating a cushion to avoid any real noise escaping from her trots. her head moved rapidly from side to side, ensuring that she wasn't being trailed. tugging the cloak tighter around herself, she pulled the hood of the garment further over her head, ensuring that her face was shielded from any onlookers as she darted down the grand staircase towards the back exit that would lead her to an escape.

     however, she knew that their would be guards at the exit. so instead, she elected to tossing her leg over the window sill and rolling over onto the edge, jumping down into one of the bushes outside of the large palace. the moment her feet hit the dirt, she took off. ducking around trees and rivers, she found her way down into a small dingy hanger a mile or so away from the brilliant white building she was previously in. essentially tossing herself in, the girl stumbled into the cockpit. not moments later, the vastness of space surrounded her.

       and a breath left her lips.

-----

      "you're out of your mind if you expect me to pay that much." her voice huffed, throwing down the spare part back down onto the vendor's table, "fifty credits for this second rate piece of junk?"

      "it's from an imperial starship, Cloak." the old woman croaked.

      "yeah? cause I bought the same piece from madche just down the way." she scoffed, before tugging fifty credits from her pocket and tossing it on the table and grabbing the hunk of metal once again before turning back to her speeder, where the brilliant violet of her tooka cat shone in the blazing suns of tatooine.

      pulling her goggles down over her eyes once more, she took off down the land of sand back towards mos eisley where she was sure Peli was waiting for her return. despite not really being employed by the mechanic, she was very much her one source of reliance. the two shared a bit of a mother daughter relationship, despite Peli never actually knowing the girls real name. however, she was the only person that had seen the girls face in it's entirety over the past five years since she had landed on the burnt planet. secrets and all, Peli Motto didn't hesitate to take in the random girl who showed up on the desert planet.

      swerving through the entrance of hangar 3-5, she parked the rusty speedster just outside of the door leading towards the small area they called home together. tapping her leg, the tooka cat, or more so known as reddan, followed close behind as the door slid open, revealing Peli and her three droids betting over some old parts. letting out a sigh, the curly haired woman looked over at the girl she had essentially adopted, tilting her head.

      "find a job?" she asked, earning a shake of the others head, "any parts?" she continued, to earn a grumble and the clank of a piece of metal against one of the tables, "that's all?"

      "prices have gone up recently in everything I swear." she sighed, dropping down into one of the seats next to a droid.

      "welcome to post empire life, Cloak." peli hummed, tossing a piece of stale bread towards the girl before sliding over a pile of credits, "now, let's show these droids how you do it."

-----

       it wasn't that she hadn't been looking for a job. everyday she would go out and try to find something, anything. she had picked up a few jobs bringing in local thieves or finding the odd lost child.  she'd do some trades and different things but there wasn't much for her to do. she wasn't a saleswoman, she was far from kind enough to do that. she worked as a bartender for a while but the sleezy owner of the bar wanted her to take off her mask and hood, and she would be damned if she would ever do that. she didn't want to risk anything, even if it meant going a day or so without bringing in any sort of money for peli and her.

        until a rundown, ugly, horrid looking ship found itself in the hangar, just before she would take off for the day to find any sort of money or scrap part. peli seemed to be excited about the arrival of the disgraceful excuse for a ship, and she could only wonder why. she didn't exactly plan on staying around long enough to find out who was in the ship, she had more pressing matters at hand. like finding work, even if just for the day.

       "wait, Cloak, before you go," the shorter woman called, grabbing onto the girls upper arm, "stay for a few and meet this guy."

       "I have things to do today." she stated calmly, voice unwavering with emotion.

       "don't lie. unless you managed to get a job overnight." peli rolled her eyes, tugging the girl from the small home they lived in out towards the large hunk of metal.

       she didn't want to be anywhere near the ship. the entire thing made her shiver. it just looked so unsteady. there was so much maintenance needed to be done for it, that a part of her wondered if she should stay back for the day and help peli fix the thing. it looked like it had been sideswiped by one too many blasts and suffered far too much damage to the thrusters. she was well-versed in ships and things. she had always found it intriguing back on her home planet, and would often eavesdrop on the mechanics that were stationed past the place she used to call home. she'd sneak out of the back and past the guards as a child and sit at the side and just listen, and learn. sometimes the mechanics would let her help out, but most of the time they were too scared of what her father might do if they found out.

      "do we even have the materials to fix this thing?" she asked, looking down at the shorter woman as the droids scurried to their sides, all three also seemingly excited.

       "well I'll do what I can with it. not my first rodeo with this hunk of metal. and I'm not talking about the ship." the brunette winked before walking up to the newly open entryway.

        furrowing her eyebrows, she followed the mechanic close behind. her own curious instincts overcoming her hesitant thoughts. if peli trusted this person, then what did she really have to worry about? she was an excellent judge of character. her boots kicked at the sand as she walked behind the woman, awaiting to see this supposed hunk of metal that would, she assumed, be the pilot of the roughed up ship. but what she saw wasn't just simply a hunk of metal, no. no this was a warrior that she had only heard legends about and seen once while back on her home planet. one she wasn't sure if she trusted.

         the person that stepped from the ship, was a mandalorian.

         "Cloak!" peli's voice called, snapping the girl from her trance as she stared up at the new person who had entered the area, "meet mando. and this little guy."

         tilting her head downwards, a warm feeling spread through her belly. two big brown eyes stared up at the hazel hues of her own, with a precious little green face surrounding them. he wore a small toothy grin that made her feel all choked up, unsure of how to react to something as cute. it's ears were twitching slightly and small clawed hands were reaching upwards towards peli. placing her hand over her chest, she let out a soft sigh. walking forward, she bent her head down towards the small child, smiling under her fabric mask.

        "who is this little guy?" she whispered, only to snap her head back when the same  green hands went to pull at the face mask she wore, "grabby little fella."

       "can you watch him?" the mandalorian spoke, a deep and modulated tone, "I have to pick up some stuff here."

       "you know I would never say no to looking after this little fella," peli cooed, puckering her lips down at the creature, "why don't you and Cloak here go out together. she's got some stuff to do and she knows these vendors better than any. she'd get you the best deal if there was one."

       "no thank you." she stated, turning on her heel and readjusting her mask, "I'm going to pick up a job. not babysit a grown person." she finished, readjusting the gloves on her hands.

       "oh don't be like that." peli scoffed, looking over at the man in the helmet, "she'll take good care of you. beware though, she's quick. if she doesn't want to be seen, she won't be. if she really doesn't want to be out there with you, you'll lose her quick."

       "so it's more like I'm babysitting her." mando scoffed, "I'm here for supplies, motto. not to watch over your assistant."

       before the other two could blink, she had slid a knife from her pocket and held it just under the cavil of his beskar helmet. he turned his neck gingerly, meeting her gaze through the the visor. a tense blanket of air draped over the entire hangar.

        "I'm not her assistant." she stated simply, voice continuing to fail from showing any emotion, "and you won't be babysitting me. for all you know I could make those vendors give you the worse price yet you'd think otherwise. don't think this beskar makes you high and mighty, mando." she quipped, sliding the knife away.

         "told you she's quick."

-----

        the two walked in dead silence towards the vendors square. neither mentioning her attempted stabbing a mere twenty or so minutes ago. and honestly, she appreciated it.  she figured it gave him a bit of an adrenaline rush, having a knife pressed so close to his neck. but then again, the mandalorian are rumoured to not feel those sorts of things when it came to acts of aggression, so she didn't entertain the idea too much. both of them moved silently and quickly through the sand alleys, before finally arriving where they needed to go.

        "what are you exactly looking for?" she asked, grinning underneath her covering at the pawing of reddan at her feet. he must have followed her. dropping on her knee, she tapped her shoulder and the feline jumped up onto her shoulder.

        "a transmitter and some spare blankets." he grumbled, glancing around at the stalls.

        "well the transmitters will be pricey, I can tell you that. the lowest I could score for you is about 200 credits. and blankets? those are easy. come on then, metal head."

        the two wandered around the array of stalls. she did the bargaining while he nitpicked every little detail of the blankets. the transmitter was easy, she didn't even bargain and he tossed 250 credits at the vendor. but the blanket, he seemed to be paying extra attention to. asking her how soft it was and if it was itchy against skin. if it was even slightly off, he would refuse it. it confused her, the amount of detail he focused on when it was merely a blanket.

        "we have one stall left for blankets. why is it so important anyways?" she asked, handing a piece of ration she had to a young boy who sat just outside one of the cantina's, ruffling his dark hair before sending him on his way.

        "doesn't matter." he stated, walking towards the stall that had the most expensive blankets in all of the square, "how much are these?"

        staring up at the man through her goggles, she let out a soft sigh, "they range from 25 to 75 credits. made of tooka cat fur." she hummed, resting a hand on the top of her own cats head, "handwoven by nalgi here." she answered, walking forward, "how are the kids, dear?"

        "getting on my last nerve," the dark skinned woman sighed, "may need you to watch them for a day or so soon, Cloak. they listen to you." nalgi sighed, refolding one of the blankets, "now what can I do for you two?"

        "he needs a blanket for his kid. very picky. what's the softest one you have?" she asked, leaning forward and sliding her own glove off, feeling a few of the garments.

        "you're holding it." the woman gestured to the beige blanket she was currently admiring, "for you, Cloak? 40 credits."

        "thank you, nalgi." she cooed, turning her head to the man, "no stains. no rips. fully woven. softer than sand. fourty credits."

        the sound of metal smacking down onto the table let her know the transaction was done. giving a quick thank you to the woman, she and the mandalorian turned away and began their trek back to the hanger. she knew peli would be far from finished with the ship, the thing was a mess. a part of her wanted to ask what happened, but the sheer energy coming off of the mandalorian let her know that was not a very wise choice. so instead the two walked in silence once more, the heat of the two suns blazing down on each of their covered faces.

         "I need the blanket because he's having a tough time falling asleep. I can't seem to figure out how to put him to sleep." mando answered the question from earlier, only earning a nod from the shorter girl, "why do you cover your face?"

        looking up, the girl quirked her hidden eyebrow, "we just met. no need to get personal. hopefully after today I'll never see you again."

        maker, was she wrong.

-----

       now, she knew peli motto was a bit hyperactive. a quick witted woman, and one that tended to push the other girl out of her comfort zone just a bit. but what she didn't know, was that the woman was simply out of her mind. some of the ideas she would come up with surprised her, but never stumped or baffled her. like the one time she said they should play a game of catch with the droids, or when she said they could  use wood to fix the hole in someone's ship. there were multiple instances where she wondered if it was a good idea to land on tatooine and become affiliated with this creative mechanic. but she wouldn't have lasted a day without her.

      "did you two find what you need?" peli called from the inside of the razor crest, "been gone for a bit. worried you may have killed each other on the walk there."

      "I did. thank you." mando called as he placed down his new possessions, rubbing the small green guys head, "your as- friend was actually quite the help."

       nodding, the girl dropped her head at him catching his words. she let out a gentle sigh before walking towards the beaten up ship with a tool kit of her own, figuring she may as well help out the woman. the droids were busy being at each others necks to get much done. she began silently working on the side of the ship that had been demolished by maker knows what. she didn't know what kind of things the mandalorian got up to, but whatever it was had some pretty expensive damages.

       "any jobs?" peli called out.

      "might have to watch nagli's younglings soon. she says they're getting out of hand. she pays well s- "

      "I HAVE AN IDEA!"

      popping her head up and pulling her goggles over onto her forehead, she placed a hand on her hip. the curly haired woman came bounding from the ship, a bright grin and mischievous look dancing in her worn eyes. cocking an eyebrow, she dropped her tool and walked towards the woman who was beckoning the mandalorian over to the two, telling him to bring the little kid with him as well.

       "what's going on?" mando asked, readjusting the small green creature in his arms.

      "I have had an epiphone!" she exclaimed, "Cloak here is fantastic with children- "

     "so I saw." he commented, sneaking a glance over at the girl who stood confused, looking down at the positively beaming mechanic.

      she watched in confusion at the way peli's gears turned in her head. whatever the woman was thinking, she wasn't sure she would actually like what she had to say. usually her ideas were at least somewhat comical, leaving her with a grin or a small laugh. but whatever she was cooking up now made her hair stand on the back of her neck.

      "what're you getting at, peli?" she asked, dusting her gloves off on her long blue cloak.

      if she had known this was where the day would have lead to, she would have simply left without saying another word to the tall mandalorian who had landed in the hanger. wouldn't have even thought about leading him to the square, or helped him find supplies he needed. let along bargain for them. but the following words that were spoken by peli made her realize just how grave a mistake she had made.

       "you should be a caretaker for the little guy and go with mando here!"

[supernatural-freek]

Love Me, Trust Me, Leave Me To Drown

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: You stayed, and like the giant space cat thing promised, your memories of before have long since left you. Things are good, things are great, but then Jack shows up like a glitch in the Matrix, and those floodgates open right back up. Soon, the one secret you didn’t know you were keeping might very well destroy everything you have.

NOTE: The long awaited Part Two!

MASTERLIST (PART ONE) (PART 3)

.

Okay, if anyone ever tells you that Sam can cook, kill them. Literally just stab them right in the fucking face because they are lying to you. Sam can’t cook for shit. You want breakfast made for you? You go right up to Dean and you give him puppy dog eyes and he will make you a feast.

“It tastes great,” you told him with a strained smile, desperately trying not to throw up whatever the fuck you just ate. Same called it porridge, but God damn, it didn’t taste like it. It tasted like a dog pissed on cardboard and then you burned a fucking Wendigo on it and then you ate it.

Holy shit, you were never going to look at porridge the same ever again.

Sam’s sweet little smile made you feel a little better, but it wasn’t enough to make you swallow down another mouthful of-of-

You shuddered. It didn’t need to be thought about.

“I’ll make it every morning,” Sam decided, watching you earnestly. You narrowed your eyes. He played the doting brother really well, but he was just a demon in disguise. A demon whose torture speciality was really fucking bad food. 

If this was what was waiting for you in Hell, you were going to cry. And then find a way to live forever. Perhaps they’d let you off the rack if you just agreed to whatever they wanted straight away?

Sam was still waiting for an answer though, and your smile withered to a grimace. “Sure bro,” you answered heavily, resigning yourself to your fate. You’d just get Dean to smuggle you burgers from the outside world. He loved you enough for that.

You brightened. Dean. Your other brother would save you. Dean would do anything for you. He always had, even when John didn’t approve. You’d always adored him for that.

Grinning brightly, you shoved the bowl back at Sam and got to your feet. “Thanks for the food, Sam! I’m gonna go find Dean!”

You bounced away before Sam could say anything. You were weak for your brothers - anything they asked you to do you would do. Even if it meant pretending to like rat poison. 

Yuck, the aftertaste that lingered in your mouth was even worse how was that possible-

“Dean!” You cheered, bursting into his room without any sort of warning. Thank God he wasn’t naked and masturbating to the bad pornos he loved so dearly. Thank God it wasn’t him fucking someone. That would be awkward on all fronts.

Pfft. ‘Fronts’.

Anyway.

Like the actual drama queen that he was, Dean had thrown himself off the bed when you’d kicked his door open, and so he was laying on the floor, blinking up at you in a daze. “Y/N.”

You sprawled out across his bed, burying your face in his pillow. Ew. It was kind of sweaty. “Clean your shit,” you mumbled.

Something poked your ribs. “What?”

You raised your head up to stare over the edge at him. “Sam is trying to kill me with his cooking and I need you to smuggle me actually edible food so I don’t die a premature death.”

Dean snorted, getting to his feet and simply laying over the top of you. You grunted in protest as his weight pushed you into the soft covers. Fuck. He was a heavy son of a bitch. “What will I do?” Dean pondered.

“Get off me for one. Christ, what do you eat?”

Dean huffed some sort of offended noise. “That’s rude. Do you want my help or not?”

You instantly let go of the weight thing. “Yes.”

Satisfied, Dean rolled off of you and instead laid down next to you. It was like being at a sleepover. Except it was your brother. Your brother who was literally just a grown child with stupidly adorable freckles. This man was precious. 

“Let me tell you a secret,” he whispered, just like a high school girl.

You rolled your eyes but indulged him anyway. “What?”

“Sam knows he can’t cook for shit. He just likes to fuck with you.”

You shot up, mouth hanging open. Fucking what?!

Oh, Sam better watch his fucking back. Cause you were gonna be standing behind him with a fucking knife that traitorous little bitch.

You barely heard Dean’s protests as you vaulted off the bed and sprinted down the hallway, intent on finding Sam and shaving his entire fucking head. You couldn’t believe he’d made you eat that disgusting pile of dogshit and hadn’t said anything.

What had you done to earn this betrayal? Dean was the one who was always being a dick and playing pranks, and instead, Sam had turned on you? You were just his sweet, innocent little sister! What the fuck!

“Samuel!” You roared, voice echoing and doubling.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice answered you, and you faltered in your rampage, immediately seeking out the owner of the tentative greeting. You found him easily, tucked away around a corner and peering at you with large eyes.

“The fuck are you?” You asked gruffly, coming to a stop. He was young, whoever it was that had appeared in the bunker. Vaguely familiar too, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out where you knew him from. "How'd you get in here?"

The boy frowned, looking adorably confused and concerned. "It's me," he answered nervously. "Its Jack."

Jack. Yes, you remembered him now. Memories appeared like fog in the morning, cementing in your mind as if they’d never been gone in the first place. Of course you remembered Jack. The son of Lucifer, but also the son of Kelly. 

A wide smile broke out across your face. “Jack!” You greeted eagerly, immediately reaching for his hand and tugging. You’d always been so easy with tactile actions - Dean hadn’t spoken to you for almost two weeks after you’d given Jack a tight hug and an affectionate pat on his cheek.

Jack followed without much protest, but there was still a hesitance in his movements, as if he’d noticed that something wasn’t quite right in this situation. You couldn’t for the life of you think why. You and Jack had always been close. It was like Dean and Cas.

You were friends.

“Samuel!” You roared, upon entering the kitchen and finding your brother eating a nice fresh salad. “You have some explaining to do!”

Sam looked up, brow furrowing in mock innocence. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered. His eyes flicked to Jack, behind you, and something about him visibly softened. He’d always loved Jack like he’d love a son.

You scowled at him. “Whatever the fuck you made me eat before - you know that it’s worse than shit.”

“You said you loved it.”

“Because you’re a pussy, Sam, and I’d hate to hurt your feelings.”

Sam’s mirth fell away. “Watch your language,” he warned. “Dean’ll have your head.”

You scoffed, twirling away from Jack to grab a bottle of Coke from the fridge. “Dean can kiss my as-”

“Finish that sentence, sis, and I’m going to lock you in your room for a week.” Dean’s voice was gruff, but teasing, and you grinned as you took a swig from the bottle of soft drink. 

You threw him a cheeky grin. “Just means I get to sleep for ages.”

Dean returned your smile, and then sat next to Sam, screwing his face up at the healthy food. You hid your snort in another drink of Coke. God, both your brother were such wussies about certain things. 

Jack, who’d simply watched the interactions up until this certain point, spoke up, his voice soft but forceful. “Y/N, who gave you those memories?”

Time seemed to come to a complete standstill.

What the fuck, Jack?

You had no idea what he was talking about - absolutely none, you swore it. All of your memories were real, you’d lived these things. You knew Jack and you knew Cas and you knew Dean and you knew Sam.

(Deep down, you knew something was wrong with them. You’re memories were shiny, as though someone had tampered with them. No. No. They were real.)

“Jack.” Dean’s voice brooked no room for argument. He needed an explanation. You all needed an explanation.

Jack’s wide eyes flitted over to you, something like unease passing over his face. “Her memories,” he said, suddenly unsure. “They aren’t real. They’ve been implanted. It’s why she didn’t know me until I introduced myself.”

Your mind went very, very, very very very very far away from your body for a very long pause. No. No, you remembered Jack. Of course you remembered Jack! You’d taught him to play tag, running around the bunker in a frenzy, loud laughter bouncing off the walls. You’d-You’d introduced him to ice cream and-and-

It was real. It had to be.

“So where did I come from?” Your voice doubled and echoed as your body swirled around the room. You were still sat in that fucking chair of course, but your body was swirling anyway. “Who am I? Am I a Winchester?”

Nobody said anything for too many heartbeats.

Right.

Of course.

Of-fucking-course.

Dean’s voice was steely and yet still wounded when he said, “We’ll get Cas. We’ll figure this out.” He pushed away from the table and stood up, his green eyes hooded and his face shadowed. “I need some air.”

You reached for him. “Dean-”

He winced away, hurrying off with almost-silent footsteps. You looked to Sam, eyes wide and pleading. He didn’t look up from the table, fork limp in his hands.

You looked to Jack, who just looked back with bottomless eyes that made you fall and fall and fall.

[agentrouka-blog]

Sweet Lady - a Sansa key phrase

The wonderful @esther-dot was so kind as to introduce me to the precious resource that is asearchoficeandfire.com and I have been down a rabbit hole ever since. Or more so than usual. (As far as quarantine with toddlers and work, both, allow me, anyway.) It's marvelous for letting you do unfocused word combinations, which really does wonders for finding text parallels and such. But that is a post for another day.

It did inspire me to search all my book files for an exact phrase, though. "Sweet Lady". It doesn't count all the other instances for sweet, lady, my sweet, sweet queen, sweet XYZ, sweetling or what have you. We already know that "sweet" can be a code for falseness. So I didn't want to confuse the issue. Only the exact phrase. "Sweet Lady". It's enlightening.

There are 23 instances in all 5 books, the TWOW sample chapters and all the other searchable publications. They appear as follows:

Sansa: 9 (3 x Joffrey, 1 x Ser Loras, 4 x  Dontos ("Florian"), 1 x Marillion)

Catelyn: 5 times (3 x Varys, 2 x Petyr Baelish)

Jonquil: 1 (Florian the Fool, "The Hedge Knight")

Lysa: 2 (1 x Morton Waynwood, 1 x Marillion)

Shae: 2 (1 x Varys, 1 x Symon Silver Tongue, ironic)

A mare: 1 (Jon, soothing a mare, about to betray the Watch)

Daenerys: 1 (Hizdahr, her "loyal" husband)

Asha: 1 (Quarl the maid, murky lover)

Lady Taena Merryweather: 1 (sneaked in, traitorous lover to Cersei - Everything there a big spotlight for Political!Jon and such, btw.)

To make it short, the phrase is a direct reference to Sansa. 9 direct references, 10 if you account for the fact that Sansa = Jonquil. (22 Jonquil mentions in all searchable publications, only 5 are not in Sansa's chapters: Jaime referencing the song or the puppetry in The Hedge Knight. Sansa is Jonquil. Case closed.) The rest of the usage concerns foils, mirrors or other characters deeply connected to her. It's a spotlight for Sansa.

In most instances, it is a marker for erroneous or "false" knights (Dontos, Florian, Loras, Waynwood), or "false" Ladies (Shae,Taena Merryweather, Alayne), immoral singers (Symon, Marillion), rape (Marillion), Rescue (Sansa/Alayne and Tanselle), political scheming (Cat, Varys, Littlefinger, Lady Merryweather and Cersei) and betrayal (ALL of them, save the true Florian and Jonquil). Also, curiously, the injury of hands. (Symon, Marillion, Catelyn, Jon, Tanselle the Jonquil puppeteer).

So now that we do know that when the phrase shows up, it's a marker for Sansa and that what surrounds it concerns Sansa, let's look at when it's used to see if we recognize anything or if it reminds us of anything. (This is where the rabbit hole comes in because there's a jumping off point for more references in almost every example.

 First Mention: Sansa I, AGOT

“Leave her alone,” Joffrey said. He stood over her, beautiful in blue wool and black leather, his golden curls shining in the sun like a crown. He gave her his hand, drew her to her feet. “What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet (!), that’s all.” He looked at Sandor Clegane. “And you, dog, away with you, you’re scaring my betrothed.”

The Hound, ever faithful, bowed and slid away quietly through the press. Sansa struggled to steady herself. She felt like such a fool. She was a Stark of Winterfell, a noble lady, and someday she would be a queen. “It was not him, my sweet prince,” she tried to explain. “It was the other one.”

The two stranger knights exchanged a look. “Payne?” chuckled the young man in the green armor. The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. “Ofttimes Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect.”

Payne, the mute. Who else is mute? Ghost. A fearsome wolf pet. Where have we heard the word "pet" before… Oh, Right. ASOS.

“The good woman at the brazier,” Mance Rayder went on, “is Dalla.” The pregnant woman smiled shyly. “Treat her like you would any queen, she is carrying my child.” He turned to the last two. “This beauty is her sister Val. Young Jarl beside her is her latest pet.”

“I am no man’s pet,” said Jarl, dark and fierce.

“And Val’s no man,” white-bearded Tormund snorted. “You ought to have noticed that by now, lad.”

Aaaand...

Jarl was with the Magnar; Mance had given them the joint command. Styr was none too pleased by that, Jon had noted early on. Mance Rayder had called the dark youth a “pet” of Val, who was sister to Dalla, his own queen, which made Jarl a sort of good brother once removed to the King-beyond-the-Wall.

 And isn't that some precious phrasing. A "good brother" once, removed.

Contrast Dany, ADWD:

“What, o’ the queen’s little pets?” Brown Ben’s eyes crinkled in amusement. The grizzled captain of the Second Sons was a creature of the free companies, a mongrel with the blood of a dozen different peoples flowing through his veins, but he had always been fond of the dragons, and them of him.

“Pets?” screeched Reznak. “Monsters, rather. Monsters that feed on children. We cannot —”

“Silence,” said Daenerys. “We will not speak of that.”

So the Sweet Lady will have a pet wolf, literally and figuratively. *wink*

But on to other "Sweet Lady" instances. Two involving Catelyn:

AGOT, Catelyn:

“How could you know all that?”

“The whisperings of little birds,” Varys said, smiling. “I know things, sweet lady. That is the nature of my service.” He shrugged. “You do have the dagger with you, yes?”

Catelyn pulled it out from beneath her cloak and threw it down on the table in front of him. “Here. Perhaps your little birds will whisper the name of the man it belongs to.”

AGOT, Eddard:

Littlefinger smiled. “Leave Lord Varys to me, sweet lady. If you will permit me a small obscenity—and where better for it than here—I hold the man’s balls in the palm of my hand.” He cupped his fingers, smiling. “Or would, if he were a man, or had any balls. You see, if the pie is opened, the birds begin to sing, and Varys would not like that. Were I you, I would worry more about the Lannisters and less about the eunuch.”

We know who the Little Bird is (Sansa), so here we know our Sweet Lady will spill important Secrets to the vast dismay of some people.

Now for some sweetness in AGOT. Jon's foils Loras and Joffrey lay it on thick:

To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. “Sweet lady,” he said, “no victory is half so beautiful as you.” Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off.

Awww. So sweet, so fake.

 Instead Joffrey smiled and kissed her hand, handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs, and said, “Ser Loras has a keen eye for beauty, sweet lady.”

Actually, we know Jon IS a visual creature. (Natural landscapes, handsome Kingslayers, Radiant Sisters, lovely Val, etc etc etc.) But we digress.

The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. “Easy, sweet lady,” he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispered through the stable, a cold dead breath on his face, but Jon paid it no mind. He strapped his roll to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. “Ghost,” he called softly, “to me.” And the wolf was there, eyes like embers.

Jon is probably the only one outside of Florian the actual puppet fool to use the phrase honestly. Jon of the fool references is Florian to Sansa's Jonquil. Brienne is the True Knight she prays for, the Galladon, but Jon is the Florian, the fool knight. Also, "The wolf was there." Jon and Ghost will be a calming, gentle, protective presence in Sansa's life. Also "mare" is an occasional marker for Sansa.

Now for something else:

ACOK, Tyrion:

Varys glanced at Shae. “My lord, must we trouble your sweet lady’s sleep with such grim and bloody talk?”

“A lady might be afraid,” said Shae, “but I’m not.”

(ASOS, Tyrion:)

“You shall rise again, I am sure. A man like you. My sweet lady Shae tells me you are newly wed. Would that you had sent for me earlier. I should have been honored to sing at your feast.”

“The last thing my wife needs is more songs,” said Tyrion. “As for Shae, we both know she is no lady, and I would thank you never to speak her name aloud.”

Which all seems to lead to:

(AFFC, Alayne)

Up here where the slope was steepest, the steps wound back and forth rather than plunging straight down. Sansa Stark went up the mountain, but Alayne Stone is coming down. It was a strange thought. Coming up, Mya had warned her to keep her eyes on the path ahead, she remembered. “Look up, not down,” she said … but that was not possible on the descent. I could close my eyes. The mule knows the way, he has no need of me. But that seemed more something Sansa would have done, that frightened girl. Alayne was an older woman, and bastard brave.

and...

“Unhand me. You forget yourself.”

“Mercy. I have been singing love songs for hours. My blood is stirred. And yours, I know … there’s no wench half so lusty as one bastard born. Are you wet for me?”

“I’m a maiden,” she protested.

“Truly? Oh, Alayne, Alayne, my fair maid, give me the gift of your innocence. You will thank the gods you did. I’ll have you singing louder than the Lady Lysa.”

Sansa jerked away from him, frightened. “If you don’t leave me, my au—my father will hang you. Lord Petyr.”

“Littlefinger?” He chuckled. “Lady Lysa loves me well, and I am Lord Robert’s favorite. If your father offends me, I will destroy him with a verse.” He put a hand on her breast, and squeezed. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes. You wouldn’t want them ripped, I know. Come, sweet lady, heed your heart—”

Sansa heard the soft sound of steel on leather. “Singer,” a rough voice said, “best go, if you want to sing again.” The light was dim, but she saw a faint glimmer of a blade.

The singer saw it too. “Find your own wench—” The knife flashed, and he cried out. “You cut me!”

“I’ll do worse, if you don’t go.” And quick as that, Marillion was gone.

There's a lot in this. There is yet another averted rape attempt, complete with rescue by a knight. (Lothor Brune.) Then, we have the implication that Sansa's virtue will be compromised ("Truly?" - Potentially by something horrible like on the show. The TWOW "Mercy" sample chapter is one big red flag.) and then we have the foreshadowing of Sansa losing her "innocence" by becoming a bad singer, a liar like Lysa, as we know she will when she lies about her death, or by "singing" loudly of secrets. Songs have the power to preserve and destroy, we learn, and Sansa will have to learn to weild that power benevolently. The fact that she is saved here, tells us that she will be "saved" from moral failure, as well.

Randomly, Marillion's Trial in AFFC:

��If I had eyes I should weep.” The singer’s voice, so strong and sure by night, was cracked and whispery now. “I loved her so, I could not bear to see her in another’s arms, to know she shared his bed. I meant no harm to my sweet lady, I swear it. I barred the door so no one could disturb us whilst I declared my passion, but Lady Lysa was so cold … when she told that she was carrying Lord Petyr’s child, a … a madness seized me …”

It may mean something, or it may not. But Sansa has a lot of bastard foreshadowing. Other characters have "madness" foreshadowing. And a history of miscarriages.

For something darker:

ADWD, The Wayward Bride (Asha)

A shy smile, strong arms, clever fingers, and two sure swords. What more could any woman want? She would have married Qarl, and gladly, but she was Lord Balon’s daughter and he was common-born, the grandson of a thrall. Too lowborn for me to wed, but not too low for me to suck his cock. Drunk, smiling, she crawled beneath the furs and took him in her mouth. Qarl stirred in his sleep, and after a moment he began to stiffen. By the time she had him hard again, he was awake and she was wet. Asha draped the furs across her bare shoulders and mounted him, drawing him so deep inside her that she could not tell who had the cock and who the cunt. This time the two of them reached their peak together.

“My sweet lady,” he murmured after, in a voice still thick with sleep. “My sweet queen.”

No, Asha thought, I am no queen, nor shall I ever be. “Go back to sleep.” She kissed his cheek, padded across Galbart Glover’s bedchamber, and threw the shutters open. The moon was almost full, the night so clear that she could see the mountains, their peaks crowned with snow. Cold and bleak and inhospitable, but beautiful in the moonlight.

Their summits glimmered pale and jagged as a row of sharpened teeth. The foothills and the smaller peaks were lost in shadow.

 At first glance this could be sweet-ish, but the surrounding imagery is kind of sinister and I get reminded of two other things:

Lysa describing her rape of Petyr (Sansa, ASOS):

...and Petyr tried to kiss your mother, only she pushed him away. She laughed at him. He looked so wounded I thought my heart would burst, and afterward he drank until he passed out at the table. (…) That was the night I stole up to his bed to give him comfort. I bled, but it was the sweetest hurt. He told me he loved me then, but he called me Cat, just before he fell back to sleep. Even so, I stayed with him until the sky began to lighten.

And Cersei's wedding night with Robert, (Eddard, AGOT)

Her eyes burned, green fire in the dusk, like the lioness that was her sigil. “The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister’s name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna.”

We already had a moment of deeply screwed up consent for Jon during his first time with Ygritte. Suddenly, the scene when Dany asks Jon if he's drunk on the show in 8x04 after the victory feast and then pushes him for sex seems even more sinister. Lysa's rape of Petyr ended in pregnancy. I hope I am wrong about this!

Lastly, this is from The Hedge Knight. "Florian and Jonquil" are being destroyed, i.e. Sansa's very favorite song is getting viciously attacked, her romantic dreams put to the torch. If my horrible suspicion is true, Sansa will live some aspect of her Ramsey storyline, if not with Ramsey, then with someone else. This following Scene festuring Duncan the fake knight and Tanselle, the tall girl playing Jonquil's puppet, however, is very reminiscent of Jon's final encounter with Ramsey. No?

The puppeteer's stall had been knocked on its side. The fat Dornishwoman was on the ground weeping.

One man-at-arms was dangling the puppets of Florian and Jonquil from his hands as another set them afire with a torch. Three more men were opening chests, spilling more puppets on the ground and stamping on them. The dragon puppet was scattered all about them, a broken wing here, its head there, its tail in three pieces. And in the midst of it all stood Prince Aerion, resplendent in a red velvet doublet with long dagged sleeves, twisting Tanselle's arm in both hands. She was on her knees, pleading with him. Aerion ignored her. He forced open her hand and seized one of her fingers. Dunk stood there stupidly, not quite believing what he saw. Then he heard a crack, and Tanselle screamed.

One of Aerion's men tried to grab him, and went flying. Three long strides, then Dunk grabbed the prince's shoulder and wrenched him around hard. His sword and dagger were forgotten, along with everything the old man had ever taught him. His fist knocked Aerion off his feet, and the toe of his boot slammed into the prince's belly. When Aerion went for his knife, Dunk stepped on his wrist and then kicked him again, right in the mouth. He might have kicked him to death right then and there, but the princeling's men swarmed over him.

 So the wolf pet/lover will curbstomp her attacker in some way shape or form.

 Damn. To cheer us, let's look at some Dontos/Florian from ACOK, Sansa:

“I will,” she said. “Tell me who sent you.”

“No one, sweet lady. I swear it on my honor as a knight.”

“A knight?” Joffrey had decreed that he was to be a knight no longer, only a fool, lower even than Moon Boy. “I prayed to the gods for a knight to come save me,” she said. “I prayed and prayed. Why would they send me a drunken old fool?”

“I deserve that, though . . . I know it’s queer, but . . . all those years I was a knight, I was truly a fool, and now that I am a fool I think . . . I think I may find it in me to be a knight again, sweet lady. And all because of you . . . your grace, your courage. You saved me, not only from Joffrey, but from myself.” His voice dropped. “The singers say there was another fool once who was the greatest knight of all . . .”

“Florian,” Sansa whispered. A shiver went through her.

“Sweet lady, I would be your Florian,” Dontos said humbly, falling to his knees before her.

Slowly, Sansa lowered the knife. Her head seemed terribly light, as if she were floating. This is madness, to trust myself to this drunkard, but if I turn away will the chance ever come again? “How . . . how would you do it? Get me away?”

Ser Dontos raised his face to her. “Taking you from the castle, that will be the hardest. Once you’re out, there are ships that would take you home. I’d need to find the coin and make the arrangements, that’s all.”

“Could we go now?” she asked, hardly daring to hope.

“This very night? No, my lady, I fear not. First I must find a sure way to get you from the castle when the hour is ripe. It will not be easy, nor quick. They watch me as well.” He licked his lips nervously. “Will you put away your blade?”

Sansa slipped the knife beneath her cloak. “Rise, ser.”

“Thank you, sweet lady.” Ser Dontos lurched clumsily to his feet, and brushed earth and leaves from his knees. “Your lord father was as true a man as the realm has ever known, but I stood by and let them slay him. I said nothing, did nothing . . . and yet, when Joffrey would have slain me, you spoke up. Lady, I have never been a hero, no Ryam Redwyne or Barristan the Bold. I’ve won no tourneys, no renown in war . . . but I was a knight once, and you have helped me remember what that meant. My life is a poor thing, but it is yours.” Ser Dontos placed a hand on the gnarled bole of the heart tree. He was shaking, she saw. “I vow, with your father’s gods as witness, that I shall send you home.”

He swore. A solemn oath, before the gods. “Then . . . I will put myself in your hands, ser. But how will I know, when it is time to go? Will you send me another note?”

Ser Dontos glanced about anxiously. “The risk is too great. You must come here, to the godswood. As often as you can. This is the safest place. The only safe place. Nowhere else. Not in your chambers nor mine nor on the steps nor in the yard, even if it seems we are alone. The stones have ears in the Red Keep, and only here may we talk freely.”

“Only here,” Sansa said. “I’ll remember.”

“And if I should seem cruel or mocking or indifferent when men are watching, forgive me, child. I have a role to play, and you must do the same. One misstep and our heads will adorn the walls as did your father’s.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“You will need to be brave and strong . . . and patient, patient above all.”

“I will be,” she promised, “but . . . please . . . make it as soon as you can. I’m afraid . . .”

“So am I,” Ser Dontos said, smiling wanly. “And now you must go, before you are missed.”

“You will not come with me?”

“Better if we are never seen together.”

Nodding, Sansa took a step . . . then spun back, nervous, and softly laid a kiss on his cheek, her eyes closed. “My Florian,” she whispered. “The gods heard my prayer.”

And just to add some sweet speculation…

Jon, ASOS:

If I could show her Winterfell … give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us.

I'm such a hopeful fool for these two.

[thefifthclown]

Part 2, Chapter 2-Reunion and Confrontation, and the Demon of Wrath; Scene 2

Fifth, Pierrot, pages 223-231

January 30th, 2AM.

It was about three hours after Lemy’s revival.

Guided by the demon that dwelled inside the red wineglass, the “Glass of Conchita”, Lemy arrived at the northernmost point of Merrigod Plateau, the Apocalypse Cliffs.

It was an enormous chasm. He could faintly hear water flowing below. It seemed there was a river there.

But it wasn’t a height that he would be able to get away unscathed if he fell. Even if he was able to withstand the impact, Lemy couldn’t swim in the first place.

In the pitch darkness, Lemy cautiously pressed forward, careful not to misstep.

Just a bit further. Julia should be by the ‘grave of Pale Noel’ up ahead. Ney said to Lemy.

She was not the “Demon of Gluttony”. There was someone else, a different being, residing inside the Glass. Like Ney, he couldn’t see that being either. Only the voice spoke to him.

Lemy had no memory of having contracted with a demon. It was done without him knowing. So he had no real obligation to obey it. Even if it was thanks to them that he didn’t die before.

But if they told him that his mother was ahead, then he had to keep going. According to Ney, Magician and Sniper were heading that way too.

They would try to bring his mother to harm.

And he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d gotten appropriate payback against the two of them.

After moving a little ways forward, he arrived at a place that had several large rocks piled up like a mountain. When he moved behind it, he found a cave entrance that went through the rocks.

Go in there. Your destination should be right through.

“But I don’t have a lantern with me.”

Don’t worry. It should be bright inside.

Ney knew a lot. But how did she come to be so well-versed in so many things? He’d asked her several times, but she would never tell him, dodging the question.

After timidly making his way inside, he immediately learned what Ney had meant.

The rocks gave off a faint light. Strictly speaking, the moss that was clinging to the rocks was the thing that was glowing. Thanks to that Lemy still could see inside the cave.

The cave took on a gradual incline that led downward. He advanced, taking care not to lose his footing. The air was pleasant, and a little chilly.

But when he’d made it all the way inside, the coolness gradually lessened. It was as if the temperature was rising.

At the other end, it looked as though the rocks were burning. They were giving off a different light than regular fire. It was blue. Blue flames were burning the moss on the rocks.

If he drew any closer, it might set his clothes on fire. Lemy continued walking while avoiding the reach of the flames.

As he did so—

“Wha--!?”

A ball of blue fire shot at him from inside. Lemy swiftly dodged it. The ball of fire impacted against the rock, and then gave rise to new blue flames.

--That’s the fire magic that the “Red Cat Sorceress” specializes in. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. Take care, Lemy. You might not die, but if your body gets burned to ashes it might take some time to resurrect you.

He didn’t need to be told that. Even Lemy had put up with heat. He’d once gotten a burn on his hand when trying to help Phoebe with the cooking. He’d had to endure the awful, stinging pain for a few days until it had healed.

“Ney. Who is the ‘Red Cat Sorceress’—”

That’s your mother, Julia.

“--!? Mom’s a…sorceress?”

What’s surprising about that at this point? Did you think a woman that’s able to lead Pere Noel was an ordinary human being? And you yourself saw her magical tools in the treasure room before.

Thanks to the flames and light of the moss, the inside of the cave grew as bright as if it were midday.

Finally, he came out into a wide space. It seemed it was the deepest part of the cave. He could see some kind of pattern tightly carved into the surrounding rock.

There were three people there.

One was Julia. She had her arms spread, and both of her hands were wreathed in blue flames. There was an old grave marker behind her back, and on it was written the name “Pale Noel.”

There were two people who looked to be facing off against her. He couldn’t see them well from behind, but Lemy immediately knew who they were. Magician and Sniper.

“Mom!”

When Lemy called to her, all three people turned to face him at once. And all of them at once looked surprised.

“Lemy!? Why are you here…?”

His mother looked confused. Maybe she hadn’t wanted Lemy to come there. To keep him from getting involved any more than he was--

But it was too late for such sentiment. Lemy had already killed several people, taking his mother’s directions as his own will. He figured now that he’d come this far, he would see it through to the end.

And it wouldn’t be the “lowest end” that Magician had said it would be. He would kill Magician and Sniper, and then revive Pere Noel too. He was confident his mother would do well, even if she wasn’t president anymore. This story would close on Lemy and Julia’s victory.

Magician looked to be even more shaken than his mother. That was understandable, the foe she’d thought they’d killed appearing before them again in this way.

“Impossible…Gumillia surely dealt him the finishing blow. How…”

Looking upon them, Julia sighed as though somewhat put off.

“Hah…Have you learned nothing these past six hundred years? You must have realized that Lemy made a contract with the ‘Demon of Gluttony’. –A ‘contractor’ won’t die. You can’t kill them through normal means.”

“…What!? But, Venomania and Conchita—“

“You at least remember who it was that killed Venomania, don’t you? Yes, Karchess Crim…He had received a ‘certain something’ from his mistress.”

“--’A Vessel of Deadly Sin’.”

“Exactly. The only one who can kill a ‘contractor’ is someone else who’s similarly made a contract with a demon. The one who killed Conchita was the very ‘contractor’ herself. No matter how powerful your magic is, you are powerless before a ‘contractor’. As long as you aren’t borrowing the power of a higher-grade being than yourself.”

“That can’t be true. I’ve defeated a ‘contractor’ once before.”

“Are you talking about Presi?”

“Yes. The Minister of Internal Affairs of the kingdom of Lucifenia, and the man who tried to secure political power using Riliane when she was six years old. I killed him with my own hands, and he was possessed by a demon.”

On hearing that, Julia laughed scornfully.

“He was just using the power of the demon that had possessed Riliane. He wasn’t a ‘contractor’. So even you could finish him off.”

“That can’t…Then everything I’ve…done until now…”

“You could say that you’ve been very lucky. You must be, to survive this long, hardly ever having to face off against a ‘contractor’ directly. And you’ve had a god acquaintance who stepped in to save you when you needed it. But Held is no longer in this world. And what can the likes of Michaela do, having only just been promoted from a spirit? --There’s no one left to save you now!”

Right as she finished speaking, Julia released a ball of fire from her right hand.

It was headed straight for Magician, but it dispersed as though striking against an invisible wall.

“…I don’t need help from any god. Right now I—Elluka Clockworker—can defeat you all by myself.”

“—Don’t you dare go by that name!”

Elluka continued, ignoring Julia’s angry cry. “Julia—no, ‘Irina’. You aren’t a ‘contractor’ yourself, are you? So I shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Heh heh…Then strike at me with your favored magic. Even if you do, all you’ll injure is ‘Germaine Avadonia’’s body. You can’t finish me off.”

“—I’ll have to destroy the red cat that’s your real body. It looks as though you’ve hidden it somewhere…. I’ll have to take my time looking for it after I defeat you.”

Elluka started to gather lightning in her hand. Sniper followed suit, aiming her gun at Julia.

“Like hell you will!”

Lemy took out his knife and ran towards Elluka.

But Sniper quickly moved to cut Lemy off, and wordlessly fired her gun.

The gunshot reverberated through the cave. The bullet directly pierced Lemy’s heart.

“Guh…”

Lemy fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Blood gushed from the wound.

But he soon stopped feeling any pain. The wound steadily closed up, and the blood stopped.

“My recovery’s much faster than it was earlier…?”

That’s because you’re directly holding the glass. Our Lady’s protection is strong.

“Thanks for the explanation, Ney. …I got it, that’s pretty handy.”

Lemy stood once more.

“…Like a dead soldier. No—those monsters didn’t have such a quick recovery power.”

Sniper was expressionless, but there was a faint bit of sweat on her forehead. That wasn’t from the heat inside the cave.

Give up, Gumillia. Those who’ve contracted with the “Demon of Gluttony” have an especially strong healing power. Your precious gun is useless against Lemy!

Could Ney’s voice reach Gumillia? He didn’t know, but with a practiced motion she ejected all the bullets from her gun, and then loaded it up with different ones.

“If lead bullets are no good—then what about this?”

A beam of light fired from the gun, and enfolded Lemy’s body.

“Ghuh!?”

Assailed by an extreme pain, Lemy was blown backward.

“…”

--But after a few seconds, he once more stood up again. His clothes were in tatters, but there wasn’t a scratch on him.

“Even magic bullets, won’t work…” Gumillia murmured.

Blue fire shot towards her from behind.

“Could you not bully my child?”

Julia had released that fire. Gumillia had been focused on Lemy; when she noticed them and turned around, the waves of flame were already upon her.

Immediately afterward, there was a flash of green light and a thunderous roar. A much louder and more earsplitting noise than the one Gumillia’s gun gave off. In the span of a second, all of the flames had been extinguished.

“—Gumillia’s not your foe. I am, Irina.”

Elluka had her hand thrust out in front of her. She had dispelled the fire by releasing the lightning that she held there.

“…What a pain you are.” Julia once more summoned her flames to hand.

“You’re certainly persistent.” Elluka too began preparing to fire lightning again.

“…” Gumillia wordlessly pointed her gun at Lemy.

“That’s not going to work. You’re clueless, you know that?” Lemy gripped his silver knife.

And so—

Santa Claus.

Pierrot.

Magician.

And Sniper.

.

The curtain opened on a four-way duel.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[v0m1tgutzx]

Depressing December

 ( Jse egos )

                                              (By:  Michaela Boyd)

It's getting to around that time of the year when it’s christmas and everything just seems tough at times and all you want to do is scream in your pillow.(me XD)  In the Septiceye house (egos House) Chase brody is being dealt with a lot of drama in his days and with christmas coming that isn't helping at all for him. Also  With stacy keeping the kids from a Cringemas party that’s going on and for like all the time from chase seeing them, what will happen in this drama-comedy story along the way? It turns out it’s going to be a Depressing December….     (warning this story contains viloince and suicide, and some swearing also. And maybe some smut involved. You've been warned. Have fun!

The Outcast

“Marvin?” Chase saw Marvin was on his hands and knees  looking under a table like he was looking for something. He was whispering something and cursing “where is the damn thing!”  He rose up quickley and bumped his head on the table “ow, fuck!” Marvin hissed as he got up and rubbed his head. “Marvin…. can i ask you something?” Chase repeated. “Oh it's you chase what do you want?” he said annoyed still rubbing the bruise. “Well i was ju-” “Oh and if you wanna know what i was doing ,I'm trying to find my wand- hey i bet Anti has it he's probably playing with it like  a knife- i'm gonna kill him!”  Marvin said  ignoring  Chases question.  Marvin noticed Chase wasn't too happy he had a frown on his face and almost tears in his eyes. Marvin stood up and put his hand on Chases shoulder. “Hey are you ok?” Being more calm this time. “I just got off the phone with Stacy and-” He was just interrupted by a crackling laughing noise by Anti. “HAHAHHAA!” Marvin looked up and gritted his teeth “ANTI! THERE YOU ARE YOU BASTARD!” Marvin yelled and walked over to Anti which was still laughing and also Darkiplier was there  strangely. “Oh look the kitty wants to play hahaha!” Anti glitched and sneered. Dark and Anti both laughed. “Hisss!” Marvin spat like a cat “You better start running you fucking jackasses!” He took anti by his black t-shirt and looked in his green glowing eyes “where's my wand! I know you took it and dont try to play stupid either!!” he said very angry. “HA! I didn't touch that worthless shit! Then darkiplier yelled out “Hey kitty cat!” Marvin took loose of Antis shirt and his eyes got wide. he saw Dark call his dog, DarkChica, and she came running to darkipliers side. “Grrrrr!!” she snapped at Marvin and barked. “ROOF ROOF ROOF GRRR!!!” “GIT THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!” Marvin tripped and fell. Chase came to help him up, as dark and anti laughed again  “don't worry she dont bite hahaha! Anti glitched. “Ugh why is one of the “ipliers” here? Chase looked at Dark with a disgusted look. That was to mean that the ipliers are Markiplier's egos. Anti looked over to Chase ignoring the comment he made to his friend Dark, “oh hello Chase- came to help your friend. Oh and how are those kids of yours  doing?? he smiled showing sharp teeth, making a smart comment back. “U-um that's known of your concern.” chase looked to the ground then for some reason he had a sense of courage come in him, he knew Anti wouldn't let him feel bad this time. , “you know- a-anti i think you should just shut the fuck up! Give Marvins wand  back now!” he yelled “oh sorry pretty boy didn't mean to hurt your little feelings hahaha!!” Anti and dark both laughed again.  Marvin stepped in front of Chase as if to protect him from Anti. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” “or what?” Dark said with his eyebrow raised. Chase pushed through marvin. “Or we’ll call Henrik!” anti and dark laughed again Anti almost choking, “THAT BITCH DOCTOR CAN'T DO ANYTHING!!!” Anti screeched. “HE'S WEAK!!” Anti twitched.  Chase tried to say something but something was holding him back he was almost scared of Anti a little and didn't know why Marvin wasn't really even helping anyway.  Marvin then shoved chase “Stay out of this Chase!!” he looked at him with a mad look “don't make this already worse than it already is!” he almost looked like he didn't care if anti did anything he just wanted his wand back. “B-but Mar-” “GIVE ME MY WOND YOU FUCKIN IDIOTS! Marvin was yelling in Anti and darks faces cursing. “NOT TILL YOU GIVE ME MY KNIFE BACK YOU HAD TO OF TAKEN IT!!!!!” Anti glitched.  “I DID NOT!” they fought back and forth. Chase didn't know why Marvin didn't want to help him.. He felt like an outcast in this fight, as if he was a child and had to shut his mouth. I'm tired of Marvin he doesn't even care about how I feel... “ Chase thought. I miss Henrik.. He hasn't come back yet.. I wish he was here he would know what to say ...” 

Chase was lost in thought as he saw Anti push Marvin as if he  was trying to knock him on the ground. At that point Marvin was hissing and Anti was up in his face, this didn't look good. “GIVE ME MY KNIFE BACK OR I'LL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT!!!! Anti growled spitting in Marvin face. “I SAID I DIDN'T TAKE IT ARE YOU DEAF!!!!!!” Marvin yelled louder “YOU FUCKIN LIER!!!” Anti yelled back with a high pitched voice cracking. Chase was covering his ears as now darkiplier even started to join in they were all yelling in eachothers faces all because of a fuckin wand and a knife! Chase seemed to become very angry and wanted to yell for them all to shut up but something stopped him- 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ALL OF YOU!!!!!!!”  everyone looked up to see Henrik yelling at the top of his lungs, Chase was shocked to see him back.Mostly relieved.  Everyone's eyes widened. “What's going on!” Henrick looked at all of them. “U-um… “ Chase looked at him trying to tell him what happen when marvin pushed him and pointed to anti. “This bitch wont give me my wand back! He said.  Anti grumbled and screeched “he wont give  me my knife back!” Henrik looked at both of them with his arms crossed and he looked pissed. “Both of you give each others stuff back.. NOW! He said. Anti looked at Marvin smiling. “UGH!” Marvin growled, he pulled the knife out of his pocket in his cape. And held it up, with a disgusted face. “well ,well well. Hahaha.” Anti giggled he snached the knife out his hand. “Now give him his wand back” Henrik looked at him with a look. “What if I don't want to … doctor..?” he smiled. “NOW!” Henrik yelled as if anti was a child. “Fine” anti moaned. He took it out of his back pants pocket. “here … bitch” he cursed under his breath as he was going to hand it to him. Marvin went to get it from his hands when anti snatched it away as if he wouldn't let him have it. “Anti!” Henrik yelled. Then Marvin said  “give me it you fuckin brat!” he was trying to get it from antis hands when anti threw it at Marvin. “Here i didnt need it anyway. He cracked his neck and looked at dark and back at his knife. “At Least I have my precious knife back”  he smiled. Marvin rolled his eyes as chase picked the wand up that anti threw and handed it to him. Marvin snatched it from him and put it in his pocket. “Im sorry Henrik…” He looked up at him. “No.. don't be sorry! He said quickly, “these imbosolts should say sorry! “Now go to your room Chase” he said still angry.. Chase almost said no, but did as he was told and went. He felt as if even henrik was upset with him. He wiped his eyes and slammed the door. “Okay.. as for you Dark, you shouldn't even be here!” “I was leaving anyway..” he gave him a death stare and looked back at Anti and took chica and went. “Both of you go to your rooms i don't wanna see you for the rest of the night!” They quickly went to their rooms. “Vhat is vrong with everyone lately..” he went to chase's room which the door  was locked. “Chase?” he knocked on the door. Chase got up and opened the door and hugged Henrik. “Z-zhat was unexpected” he rubbed his hand on chases back and hugged back. “May  I come in” “y-yeh” chase said wiping his tears that just had fallen. They both sat on chases bed which had his dirty clothes on it. “vhats wrong Chase?” Chase knew he could tell him anything. “I-i called stacey about taking t-he kids to the Cringemas party b-but she said they didnt w-want to go-” Chase sucked in his snot and wiped his eyes. “H-ey- hey don't vorry about them just forget about vhat she zaid” Henrik put his  hand on his shoulder and held his hand. “B-but.. I just wanted to s-see them a- ag-ian.” tears came from chases  eyes and he hugged Henrik very tightly and cried in his white coat. “Shhh, Chase i'm here for you.. I promise.. You got to lizten to me now.” He rubbed his back trying to calm him down. “Forget about them”.... “th-ank you for helping me feel better… your a good d-doctor.  he looked at him and henrick wiped chases tears away. “For now on.. call me Henrik, i'm your best friend” he smiled. Chase blushed a little and cleaned his eyes and he calmed down. “What will I ever do without you” They both cuddled and finally fell asleep in eachothers arms.

“I really like writing this :D  Can't wait to do the next part! Teehee ^^”

Next

NO FUN

Chase was on his bed on his laptop  looking at Jacksepticeye’s instagram. “Oh Jack.. why are you so happy and successful I have  to live in a house with these losers”.. "I have nothing to be thankful for." Chase pouted  to himself while looking at  pictures of jack, which he looked very happy in. It was very early in the morning he was up all night thinking about the kids and didn’t really have much sleep only when henrik got up to brush his teeth.  “*yawn*” Chase had to get up too, but didn't feel like it, so he put his laptop down and threw the sheet over his head and laid down.his eyes grew heavy and he soon closed them and went to sleep, When he heard his door open, “get your ass up!” said someone. The voice sounded like Jackieboyman, but chase ignored him.  “Go away” chase moaned. “Ok but i guess you don't wanna say goodbye to Henrik.” jackie ran out the room like a baby. “Wait what?!” Chase quickly rose up and looked around. “Jackie???” Chase got up and chased after jackie but then bumped into henrik on the way almost kissing . “Ow!” Chase shouted. “Henrik! You're still here!”   chase said blushing “zhere you are ! Oh and  zorry i didn’t see you coming ``Henrik said with a smile.  “Y-your leaving aren’t you.” Chase looked at him with worried eyes. “Yes.. I have to do my job you know I'm a doctor.” He said. “B-but i thought you don't work on Sundays that's not fair!” “I have sick patient i need to vorry about” “so you don't have to worry about what I'm going through.” Chase argued. “Of course I do!” Henrik reassured him. “I care about you more than anything chase, you just need to learn that i can't be here for you always.. You need to start taking care of your own problems.” Henrik said very calm. “Yes doctor..” chase felt kinda guilty now that Henrik had told him to deal with his own problems Chase didn't know how to do that. “Lizten you are young.. But itz time you take care of your responsibilities you underztand me?” “yeh..” Chase looked down at his feet in shame. “Im sorry” Henrik hugged him. Chase buried his face in heriks chest, he felt as if he was going for a long time.. He hated whenever he left he would always got into trouble or had to be alone all day. “Remember stay where Jackie can zee you, he will be watching you, ve dont vant you to get into trouble like you did last time.” “okay, okay i know” Chase said annyoed “I’ll be back zoon i promise.” Henrik grabbed his coat and put it on. “Bye..” “bye chase… and remember dont even think about your wife or the kids.” Chase didn't answer he just thought how boring the day would be with Jackie and Marvin. Then jackie ran  into the room while tripping with a coffee mug in his hand. “WAIT DOC!!” he yelled. “Oh yes, i need my coffee!" Henrik took the coffee and took a big sip. “Oh heeeeyyy Chase.” Jackie rubbed the top of chases head. “Oh and you forgot your hat.” he reminded Chase and he had his hat in his hand. “Ugh.. thanks.” Chase took his hat and put it on. “Im gonna make sure you dont do anything stupid haha!” jackie laughed.  “Oh i won't!” chase said with an attitude. “I'm going to my room” Chase left kinda pissed off. “Well bye doc.” “bye Jackie, make sure Chase doesn't feel too bad about me leaving,.” “sure” Jackie pushed Henrik out the door and slammed the door behind him. He quickly jumped to his feet happy that Henrik was gone. “OH MARVIN!!!” jackie yelled while running to jump onto the couch beside Marvin who had a bowl of popcorn. “What are we gonna watch?”Marvin asked putting popcorn in his mouth.  ‘SPIDERMAN!!!” jackie yelled “YES!” Marvin yelled back, putting his arm around jackie ready to watch the movie. 

Chase was in his room on his phone looking at Twitter. He then put it down and lay in his bed for a while thinking. Since Anti was out with Robbie and Jameson(two of antis closest friends in the house)  Chase didn’t  have anybody to hang out with. Besides Marvin and Jackie. Chase got up and went to check what they were doing. He crept to the living room and saw the both of them. It looked like they were playing?  “Haha stop!” Marvin giggled. Jackie was tickling marvin as Marvin threw popcorn at him. It looked like fun but Chase kinda wanted to keep watching.  Fools. Chase thought to himself as he watched them. Marvin was trying to push Jackie off the couch it looked like.  “Come on Marv!” Jackie laughed almost getting on top of marvin.”i just wanna play!”   “Hahahahaha!! Get off me you jackass!!” Marvin laughed and giggled Chase hadn't seen Marvin that happy before.”hahaha Marvin!” Marvin was still fighting him and Jackie was still playing. “Hahahaha! Jackie no! Haha! stop hahah please!. Marvin  kicked jackie's belly, still laughing. What the fuck are they doing? Chase continued to spy on the two as they wrestled. . “Come on say it Marvi!”  Jackie said laughing taking marvins mask off. “Don't you love me?” Jackie giggled. he kept tickling as he Marvin giggled too. “yeh! “ Marvin laughed even harder. “What was that? Come on say you love me haha!”  “Oh my god! Yes i love you jackie hahah!”  He kicked The bowl of popcorn which fell on the floor.making a huge mess.”how much!”  Jackie gave Marvin a kiss on the cheek. Marvins face was covered red. “I love you alot jackie.” Marvin stopped laughing and smiled at jackie. Chase noticed that he never actually saw marvins face before. But now it was kinda clear that Jackie and Marvin are in a relationship.   Their together?? but i didn't know that they were? Yuck! How did I not know? But why?. Chase thought. And oh my god marvins face looks so weird without a mask.  “OKOK STOP!” Marvin laughed harder. “Aww ok” jackie got off and laughed as marvin’s hair was messed up. “You look funny without your kitty cat mask on haha!” he giggled. “Fuck you!” Marvin pulled jackie's mask  and then let go of it as it hit his face with a smack. “OW!” jackie yelled.  “But ...You look cute without your mask too..” jackie said with a smile. “Oh..” marvin blushed again.   “Lets go check on Chase!” Marvin changed the subject. And jackie got up.  “Shit!” chase  whispered and ran to his room and quietly slammed the door. “Dude they're a couple!?” chase said to himself. “Wow.. and eww.” chase said.  Then chase remembered the time when he had a partner.. Stacy. Chase was lost in thought when Marvin opened the door. He had his mask back on, and jackie had a cup of water. “Chase we've come to check on you.  Jackie  said and handed him the cup of water. “Eww water?” “well isn't it better than drugs??” Marvin remind Chase smiling.  “but- “ chase whined. “Oh c'mon you know Doc doesn't let you have that shit!” jackie said. “We are trying to get you off that duhhh.”jackie said touching Chases nose as Chase looked at him disgusted.  “so what were you doing?” Marvin said. “Oh! I was er- on Youtube watching Jacksepticeye’s new video.” Chase lied. “Me and marvin were watching spiderman!”  Jackie lied as well. “what video was it?” Marvin asked Chase. “U-um.. The one about.-. Him playing a game!” Chase studdard and his face turned red. “Oh really can we see?” Jackie said curious.  Chase looked at them with a mad face. “Why don't you believe me!” “you think i'm doing something like… trying to kill myself?GEEZ!!” Marvin and jackie both looked at eachother "Jesus Christ no!!" Jackie said.  “No- no of course not!” Marvin said quickly. “We just are following doctors orders” jackie said. “Chase laid on his bed and threw a pillow at them   “get out!!” Chase screamed. “Chase!” Jackie picked the pillow up. “What's the matter?”  Chase was pretty upset.. Chase looked down at his feet thinking about the kids and what hnerik had said.  ignoring jackie. ”i said get your asses out!!” Chase yelled again. Marvin was kinda tired of Chases attitude he knew what he was thinking...  “Well it's not our fault your wife left you!”  Marvin said walking out the room. Chase looked up with wide eyes he couldn’t believe marvin would say something like that. He knew Chase  had depression about all of it. “Marvin!” jackie turned around to go after Marvin.  Chase got up and slammed the door behind jackie and locked it. He sat down and buried his face in his knees. “Chase?!” “ you didn't have to get so mad at us? And now you made Marvin mad just open the Goddamn door !” jackie yelled.  ‘NO!!” chase cried. “Please!” jackie said. But chase didn't answer. Chase looked up to here what jackie would say next, he never said anything. For a minute chase thought jackie left. “Jackie?” Chase checked. He didn't answer. Chase got up and looked through the crack in the door jackie was gone. With a sigh chase went and sat on his bed and drank the cup of water. “Yuck” he swallowed it, it tasted plain and gross. “Where did this come from the toilet.” with a sigh Chase laid it down on the table. He then got out his phone to call  Henrik.  “Pick up pick up!” He said hoping henrik wasn't too busy. When his phone rang a couple times he never answered. “God Damn it!”  Chase screamed in his other pillow. He thought that he would never have fun with jackie and marvin here they never wanted to do anything with him. Chase got up and opened his door and checked to see what they were doing again.

Marvin and Jackie were in the kitchen sitting at a table,  and it looked like they were sharing cookies and milk with each other. Jackie touched his nose on Marvins and looked into his eyes blushing.  “I love you Marvi…” Jackie said and then Marvin said “i love you” back  closing his eyes. Chase watched them “eww” chase whispered to himself. And walked away. “Fine if there gonna be to busy making love or something er- whatever- I'm outta here!” he whispered and then went and grabbed his hoodie and went quietly out the door.

“I ship Marvin and Jackie! Yay! ”

You Can Say It’s Just Jack Frost.

Chase walked the streets with his hoodie on his head with his hat on. It was freezing out there. “Brrr.” Chase shivered. “T-this i-is the r-right thing t-to do….” he said holding himself. “I gotta f-fi-nd s-somewhere t-to g-go.” Chase kept on walking he didn't even know why he left to start with. Even stupider that he didn't even take his car. “I-im s-such an idiot.” he closed his freezing eyes, it seems like it was going snow. He was thinking about going to Anti and the others for help.. But he just realized he didn't know where they went. “I-im gonna f-ffreeze to d-death!” chase said gritting his teeth. He came to some houses. He wanted to knock on them but didn't bother.. He remembered what Henrik told him. “Never approach strangers” he remembered. He pulled out his phone to call Anti. Surprisingly he picked up! “Hey chase!” Anti said, and he sounded happy? “H-hey A-Anti.” chase shivers.  “are you crying?” Anti said being mean. “N-n-o!” Chase tried to explain. “I-m c-c-old!” chase said. “Who cares.” Anti said annyoed “and why the fuck are you outside your gonna die!- Well i probably wouldn’t care.” anti said coughing. “W-what?” chase said not hearing Anti’s comment.  “W-hat are you e-even d-oing?” “were just hangin… wanna come i can get Jameson to come get you.” Anti said. “S-ur-” Chase almost said when he remmberd what Herik said. Don't trust anti.. Stay away from him.” The thought shivers through chases spine. He wanted to accept the offer so badly. “Comon Chase, you wanna hang with us… right?” Anti said trying to convince him. “Y-yes..” Chase said like a baby. “Then come on..”  “i-.. Ok…” “hahahaha” Anti giggled. “Ok wait somewhere Jamseson is coming. “O-ok..” Chase found a bench and sat down, scrubbing his hands togethor blowing in them to make him warm.  The  bench was really cold and icy on his bottom. “F-fuck t-its c-cold.!” chase said, wishing Jameson would hurry up. I don't even know why Henrik told me to stay away from Anti.. I trust him. Chase thought to himself.  I wonder how the kids are doing..” i wonder what Jackie and Marvin might think about all this.. If they find out i left im dead! “Well i might be dead if Jameson doesn't hurry his ass up!!” Chase yelled out loud as white fog came out his mouth. Suddenly a small white snowflake came down from the sky. “O-oh God..” Chase muttered.  And it landed on his nose  as it melted. Then came more and more.. It was snowing. “Brrr” chase shacked and freezed. “I-it's-sn-owing!” more and more snow fell as Chase began to freeze even more.what was Antis problem? Couldn't Jameson really take that long! soon minutes past. Chases hands were numb and he couldn't feel his legs anymore. Then what's even worse he had to pee. He couldn't talk either he was beginning to wonder if it was really worth leaving.. Or even trusting anti… He laid on the bench and covered himself with his hoodie “i….-i h-hav-ve t-o c-call H-hen-rik….” Chase said beginning to freeze. He forced himself to try to pick his phone out of his pocket and   then he turned it on.. It was almost frozen. But when he turned it on it died.. “N-no…” Chase looked in despair as his phone fell to the ground. He knew he probably wouldn't survive in this condition.  Chase took all his strength and threw himself  on the ground  and used his arms to drag himself through the snow. Then Chase realized.. Jameson never showed up...Anti lied to him…  As chase tried to pull .. he couldn't bear it much longer.. His eyes closed and tears filled his eyes… “i_im so-rry…. “ Chase then finally past out in the middle of nowhere freezing ..to death.

Counted how many times I say “even” in this story

The Doc Is On The Case

“Chase!” A voice shouted. “CHASE! GET UP!” The voice shouted again. Chase couldn’t get up.. He heard the voice and it sounded familiar. But couldn’t make out who it actually was. Then the person picked him up. And took him in his car. Where am i… and whos caring me.. Chase thought to himself. Chase heard whoever was saving him saying something. “Chase you’ll be ok! I promise just hold on! Stay with me!” The voice cried. Then chase tried opening his eyes he was too cold and he still was kinda frozen up. He felt a hand on his face it was really warm.. And felt a warm blanket go across his body. The car was warm too everything around was warming up. He finally could open his eyes. He saw the face of his most bestest friend..Henrik, first off he thought he was dreaming but he wasn’t it was a christmas miracle! “H-henrik..” “Chase!?” Henrik smiled and held chase’s hand. “Don’t vorry we'll be home before you know it..” Henrik cranked up the car and began to drive while Chase sat beside him bundled up in a blanket. “I-im.. sorry” Chase said sniffing.   “No don’t be… it's not your fault.” Henrik kept driving, since he was a doctor he knew what to do about Chase. As they drove Chase couldnt be more happier that Henrik was there he knew he would be ok.. “Thank you..” Chase began to fall asleep as he heard henrik say “your velcome.” in his beautiful german accent. Chase was actually warm inside and didn't want this moment to end. At home~  Suddenly chase woke up and he was placed in a warm bed. It was henriks bed. Maybe he wasn't placed in his own bed because it was a mess. Chase had been placed in an orange tank top and some sleep pants. “Henrik?” Chase said opening his tired eyes yawning. “Yes chase?” Henrik answers. “You're a lifesaver.” Chase laughed. “Oh no problem.” Henrik gave chase some coffee. Chase took a sip as the warm liquid taste on his taste buds were so delicious and warm. And he swallowed it, it was so much better than water! (speaking of gross) “Wheres Marvin and Jackie?” chase asked. “Oh those two troublemakers!” Henrik said. “I sent them to go get some groceries and some other stuff for you.” Henrik scratched his head. “But I can't believe they didn't notice you were gone.. I'm sorry this happened to you Chase.. I'll make sure they will regret doing that!” Henrik said in a mad voice. “No.. it was my fault.. They didn't let me go..” Chase sat up and put the coffee mug down. “I went on my own..” He finally said. “What? Why?”  “you never picked up your phone i called but you never answered. So I snuck out of the house and went to find somewhere else to go…``''oh chase! Why.. you almost killed yourself…” and then henrik just realized what he said.. Chase usually  wanted to do that! “Chase it's not your fault.. I'm sorry I didn't pick up the phone, I was probably with a patient. “So why didn't you ask someone for help? When i found you you were laying in the ground bundled up.” Henrik explained. “I-i called Anti.. He said he would get Jameson to come pick me up-” chase was interrupted by Henrik “and the bastard never showed!” Henrik shouted not believing what he was hearing. “Y-yes…” Chase knew he shouldn't have brought Anti up.. “I told you to stay away from Anti!” henrik said angrily. “Im sorry.. I couldnt help it i was freezing!” Chase augured back. “Why did you let him get into your head!” “I didn't know!?..” Chase said confused. Then right when henrik was going to say another comment Jackie knocked on the door. “Hello??” “doc are you in there?’ Jackie said. Henrik got up and opened the door seeing Marvin with a bowl of soup and jackie with a blanket. “ come in.” henrik said kinda still mad at Chase. They both came in and looked at Chase. “Well you sure do look warm.” Marvin said sitting the soup on the table. “Yeh..” chase was almost feeling  guilty Marvin Jackie and Henrik were both trying to help chase for something he did wrong.. This was all his fault. Jackie sat down next to chase putting the blanket over his feet. “There ya go.” jackie smiled. “Um.. thanks? Your not mad at me for leaving? 

Jackie looked up at Chase with a confused look. “Of course im mad!” Jackie said. “Yes chase we all are mad at you!” Henrik said. “Oh…” Chase looked down and closed his eyes shut.. He really couldnt believe they all were mad at him.. But he did think that henrik wasnt that mad.. After all he was upset because of Anti. Henrik to a deep breath. “Chase we don't actually blame you.. This could happen to anyone.”  Henrik said trying to be calm. “I know.. But I'm the one that listened to Anti.” “Anti?” jackie said looking surprised. “Yeh Anti told Chase that jameson will pick him up and bring him, but he never showed.” Henrik explained. “Oh that's tough!” jackie said. “Im gonna get that jackass!” Jackie said. “Wow calm down.. No ones messing with Anti.” Marvin reminded Jackie. Jackie got up and put his hoodie on his head “no worries i'm a superhero did you forget?” He bragged holding up his fists. “Sit your ass down!” Henrik said. Pulling on Jackie's hoodie.  “Whatever!” jackie sat down beside Marvin who was sitting near Chase who was getting kinda annoyed that everyone was sitting on his legs. “Guys? Can i have some space?” Chase said with an annoyed face. “Um no  i see that your better now. Did you think you were sick?” “yeh cmon get up its my turn!” jackie pulled on Chase's arm jumping on the bed. “Dude what the fuck! Get off!” chase yelled. “C'mon we want some attention too!” Marvin pulled the blanket off of chase. “What no!” Chase pulled the blanket from marvin and stuck his tongue out at him. “ very immature chase.” Henrik said. Chase looked at him with a stupid face. jackie laughed and  jumped on Chase and was trying to push him out the bed. “Cmon me and Marvin cooked cookies lets go!” Marvin got out of the bed and went with henrik in the kitchen. “Don’t you want to finish your soup?” jackie sat down in front of chase. “No.. I hate soup. Chase pouted. Jackie pulled chase’s hat over his face."aww Chase you hate everything!" "Well.. Soup taste like shit!" Chase whined again. “Then let’s go eat those cookies before they do!!!” jackie jumped off the bed and ran out the door. Chase rolled his eyes and went after him.  

Dr. Scheeplestien saved the day.. Hey i thought jackie was the superhero! XD

Not Gonna Reach My Telephone

Chase was in the kitchen with Robbie eating some cereal which was from Halloween and it was gross too. Chase was eating some sour patch kids cereal, which was probably gross too . “Mmm!” Robbie said crunching loudly. “Eww how can you eat that stuff!” Chase said disgusted. “Robbie is on box. ” Robbie said pionting at the box. Since robbie didn’t know how to talk properly he didn't really know much. So he kinda sounded weird when he talked.”this is robbie's favorwite cereal. Robbie said sticking his tongue out.   “but why are you eating it its too old.” “your a meanie Chase, it Halloween duh.” Robbie said acting like Chase was the dumb one. “Whatever.” Chase said putting another spoon full in his mouth. “ how are eating that shit?” Robbie said looking over in Chases bowl. “Because I saw it on a commercial duhhhh.” Chase said back at robbie who was slurping down his milk. Like a pig.Then Marvin came walking in with his eyes looking tired.  “Hey guys.” Marvin sat down beside them yawning.  “Chase why did you put sour patch kids in your cereal?” “this is my cereal!” Chase said laughing. Then Robbie started laughing as Chase had a milk mustache. “Haha you look like Jameson hahaha!” Robbie laughed pionting at Chase.  Chase wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Pass me the milk.” Marvin asked   “ill help!” Robbie offered to help, so he grabbed the milk with one hand which his hand sipped and the jug of milk  accidentally dropped and the milk poured it all over the floor “oopsies!!” Robbie said slipping on the floor falling on the floor on his bottom. “Owie!!” Robbie cried. “Robbie!” Marvin looked at him disappointed. “Are you ok?!” chase went to help him up. Marvin rolled his eyes and help dry up the milk. “Im stupid…” robbie whined. “No your not… i fall on my ass all the time haha..” Chase laughed embarrassed. “Hahaha tanks chase.” Robbie hugged him and chase shrugged. “You really should be more careful Robbie.” Marvin looked at him crossing his arms. "Fuck off!" Robbie said sticking his tongue out. "Um. Robbie you do know who your talking to?" Chase said. Marvin smiled and rubbed the top of Robbie's head. "Its okay robbie." "Okay! In that case! Here ya go!" Robbie yelled and was slumbling to pour some milk in a cup and handed it to Marvin. "Er- eww- thanks." Marvin looked at it and snatched it away from Robbie. "Jesus.." Chase said being annoyed at both of them, but more of Marvin. "Marvin why don't you go shit in a litter box!" Chase said taking the cup from him. Robbie laughed and cleaned the rest of the milk up. "Oh go cry in a corner!" Marvin said back. Chase looked at him with a death stare, kinda concerned. "Go make out with Jackie! Hahaha!" Chase said back making Robbie laugh. "WHAT! HAHAHAHAHA!!! MARVIN X JACKIE!" Robbie yelled spitting out his milk pointing. Marvin's face was turned flush  red under his mask.. He was really embarrassed. "U-um-" Marvin studdard blushing. "Fuck you guys!" Marvin said running out the room almost knocking over a chair. Chase sticked his tongue out. "Yeah! run scaredy cat! Ha!" Chase laughed Robbie laughed harder enjoying Chases company like he always did. Chase was a good friend maybe because Anti is close to Chase and that makes Robbie like Chase. Chase stopped laughing and realized who he was with. He remembered what Anti did to him.. Leaving him in the cold like that other night on purpose.. Chase obviously needed to deal with the problem. "H-hey.. Robbie can you do me a favor?" Chase said sitting straight in his chair. Robbie looked up with a confused face. "What?" Robbie looked in Chase's ocean blue eyes. Chase kinda didn't know how Robbie was gonna react because he was so young but Chase had to know for some reason. "Um… I need to talk to you okay?" Chase said acting like Robbie was a baby. "Ok… " Robbie's voice sounded weak and it cracked. "Where were you last night?" Chase said trying to sound calm. He didn't want to argue with Robbie after all. "We went to..  place where to sleep." Robbie explained in a quiet voice.  "Oh so when you mean we you mean JJ and Anti and you?" Chase asked. "Yeah duhh " Robbie answers sitting up straight. "Do u know where you were??.. I mean what did u do?" "We went and  eat pizza Robbie's favorite!" Robbie said with a happy smile.. Chase looked at him smiling and maybe thought Robbie was gonna be easy to talk to. "Um.. So where did u go to sleep?" "Anti calls it apartment? But we went to sleep there Robbie have no sleep..I hate it there" Robbie pouted. "Yeah.. You missed it here huh?" Robbie didn't answer instead he got up to put the milk up. "Why are we talking again?" Surprisingly Robbie said that plain and simple. Chase just said it out loud. "Why did Jameson never show up?" Robbie yawned and looked at chase. "What?" Robbie said. Chase groaned and got up and walked over to Robbie grabbing him. "Dude! It's not that hard just tell me why Anti lied to me?!" Robbie's eyes widened. "Anti lied?" Chase face palmed himself. "Didn't u know about what happened?" "Nope??" Robbie said sounding dumb. "OH MY GOD! U FUCKIN IDIOT!" chase accidentally said out loud. Henrik came in the room looking confused. "Chase?!?!" He shouted which made chase jump. "Zhat are you doing to that poor child!" Henrik came and shoved chase off Robbie. "Were talking about Anti!" Robbie blurted out. Chase looked at Robbie and then towards Henrik . "well… why don't you just head on to bed Robbie I'll deal with chase here." Robbie went walking limp.  "Chase.. Please don't tell me you vere talking about vhat happen?" "I-i'm sorry… I just wanted to know why." Chase looked up at Henrik. "Oh chase… I know your young and curious about different things.. But you know how Anti is.. " Henrik took his finger and put it on chases chin and lifted his head, looking him in the eyes. Chase kinda blushed. "I know.." "As we all know we don't know what Anti is planning or anything.. He can be bad at times and good at times." Henrik shrugged. "Don't start trouble.. Its already bad enough that you have to deal with Stacy and the kids.. I don't need you making more things happen that's not your concern. " "anti is the least of your problems is vhat I'm saying" Henrik said with a very calm voice. He was very concerned for Chases safety. "I know you're trying to make me stay away from him.. But it seems like I can trust him." "Yeh and see where you ended up.. " Henrik reminded. Chase let out a sigh. Thinking of a way to make Henrik not make at him. "Please understand.." Henrik touched chases shoulder.   "I do.." Chase smiled a little. "Forget about what happen it doesn't matter don't let him get into your head.." Henrik kept trying to talk some sense into his best friend. "Its like I have to forget about a lot of things.." Chase clenched his eyes shut. "I wanna be able to trust that you take my words seriously chase.. I'm not playing this time. I gave you your varning" Henrik said with a concerned voice. "Your a young boy chase.. With a lot to learn, I'm telling you if you don't change your life you'll end up in a situation you'll regret happening." Henrik kept talking fluiding chases mind with different thoughts which he totally didn't care to hear why should I listen to a doctor.. I mean he's my best friend. Its where to the point, I can't control it any longer…. Chase interrupted Henrik. "Fine.. I'll work things out with Stacy.." Chase finally said. Henrik looked up surprised. "Oh chase that's wonderful!" Henrik smiled. "Or maybe you should go to her house and work things out?" Henrik said. Chase really didn't think that was a good idea last time he went to see her they had a fight. "Um.. Maybe.." Chase said finally still thinking.  Henrik took his phone out his pocket and gave it to chase to call her. Chase looked up and smiled "ok." He took the phone and hugged Henrik very tightly and put his face in his chest. "Thanks again..". Henrik let out a sigh and looked down to see chases happy face in his warm chest. Henrik didn't answer he just was proud Chase felt safe.  

Time skipped ~ Chase went in his room and sat on his bed cracking the door so no one would barge in.  Chase dialed Stacy's number. Number by number Chases heart raced. He didn't know how she was going to react He didn't talk to her in awhile. He really missed her…oh maybe she wont answer.. I mean- I want her too.. After all i'm sure we can work something out? Right? Ugh what am i thinking its stacy!

Then chase shot up when he heard a tempered voice. He was glad to hear. “Oh it’s you Chase what do you want?” Stacy said in a mean voice. She almost sounded like Marvin when he got annoyed with Chase. Chase gulped. He stood there for like 10 seconds staring at his phone. “I know it's you Chase pick up your damn phone!” Stacy yelled. “W-what!? S-stacy??” Chase said quickly. “Oh come on what do u want, you better not have a stupid exuscuse to want me back its not happening. Stacy said. “No! That's not it! I.. i just wanna ask you something.” Chase tried to say calm. “Fine it better not be something dumb like begging to me about some stupid shit.” Stacy didn’t seem at all happy that Chase was on the phone. “Im sorry.. Just please don’t hang up.” Chase begged. “If you were sorry you'll be a great father and a great husband.” Stacy said with an attitude. “I-im sorry stacy please let me just talk to the kids.. And i promise i would be a good father..” “how can i take you seriously when all you do is drink!” “i stopped that!” chase said getting mad. “You make me sick chase. The kids don't want an alcoholic for a father! And I don't want a looser for a husband.” “stacy.. I'm sorry!” “you already said you were sorry!” Chase couldnt believe what he was hearing he never thought stacy would be this mad at him. “Please! I'll do anything to see them.. Can we just work things out.. “ Chase pleaded. “And dont bring up that stupid party i already said they don't care to go.” “n-no.-” Chase tried to explain. “The kids don't want anything to do with you right now chase..” Stacy said. Chase stopped for a second.. He just wanted to cry but didn't because stacy would just beat him down for that too.. “Stacy.. Why..” 

“No chase! I'm sick of your bullshit if you don't want to get your life together, so be it.. Your not gonna see the kids again!” Stacy said pissed off. Chases heart just felt like it sank.. He was crushed for the fact that stacy would say such horrible words.. Tears started to fill his eyes. His stomach felt like it had a stone inside it. “Wh-hat…” Chases voice cracked with tears rolling down his cheeks. “You heard me, don't speak to me again or I will be calling the law on you!

“Goodbye!!!” Stacy went to hang up when chases phone slipped as he caught it in time. Holding it close to his ear. “W-wait!! Just let them stay only on the weekend??!!-” Chase quickley studdard but it was too late Stacy hung up…. “Stacy!? Stacy??- …. Im.. sorry.” Chase clenched his eyes  shut as tears kept falling down his cheeks. He threw his phone at the wall.. He was truly broken inside.(actually the phone is xD) Chase laid on his belly sobbing in his pillow as hard as he could. 

He cried for a long time only when he heard the door squeak. “GO AWAY!!” Chase sobbed harder at the person at his door. But nobody answered. Chase thought it was someone just playing. “DID YOU HEAR ME I SAID G-” Chase rose up and stopped when he saw Jameson standing at his door with a scared look. Chase wiped  his nose and eyes. “Jameson.. It's only you..”(here's where it gets boring -_-) Jameson nodded and sat beside chase with a warm welcoming smile. Jamseon was a mute so he needed to do hand gestures. What's wrong? Jameson hand signaled. “I called stacy.. It didn't go..so well.” Chase told JJ  telling him everything. Im sorry. Jameson wished he could just talk and tell chase how he really felt about all this but it wasn't really easy to do hand gestures. “Oh sorry do u need something to write on.” Chase went under his bed and pulled on a whiteboard and a marker handing it to Jameson. Jameson bowed his head thanking chase. Jameson wrote on the broad. Chase i'm sorry that has happened to you, but you shouldn't let someone get the best of you.. Listen  no ones perfect.. That's why pencils have erasers..  Jameson wrote and then he looked up and shrugged. No i actually need an eraser!  Jameson smiled. Chase kinda giggled and gave him an eraser. Chases eyes were still watery so Jameson gave him a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Thanks..your a good friend.. Better than everyone else could be to me...” Chase smiled. It's gonna be ok Chase i promise.  Jameson hugged Chase as he saw the tears coming back, it was hard to keep it together because he seemed like such a baby and he still thought of life without the kids now.. Jameson was worried for his friend he just wanted to cheer him up. “I-i miss them..” chase sobbed. I know. Jameson said that time with his mouth movement. You know chase.. It takes a real man to cry in front of another ... Jameson wrote that and chase was kinda cheered up by it. “Oh jameson what will i ever do without someone like you..” Chase hugged tighter making jameson hug more. (Jesus christ) They sat there awhile. Wow… JJ sure did help me calm down.. Now i kinda feel bad for blaming him for leaving me in the cold. Chase knew that things were not over between him and the kids, he knew it.

Stacy is a bitch! Lol but the next part is kinda stupid XD

This is based on the song telephone by lady gaga.

Hurts Like Hell 

  Jameson went and chase was still laying in his bed.and Meanwhile  He got up and was looking in his drawer for his phone. He completely forgot that he through it somewhere. He searched through and came across a photo of him and the kids. It was the one where they went to DisneyLand together.. Chase looked at the photo.. Wishing that he could change the past.. But he can't. “Why did this have to happen to me.. I'm such an idiot..”  “stacy's right.” Chase looked down at it. “Right about what?” Jackie shoved the door open hitting the wall. “Dude whats your fuckin problem?!” Chase got up. “What are you doing??” jackie smiled. “Nothing get out of my room.” Chase just wanted to be alone right now besides he was already mad enough about stacy. “Oh please just tell me, hey! What's this” jackie took the photo from Chase. “Give that back!!!” Chase yelled. “Ohhhh your kids.” “jackie! Im not in the mood for your bullshit give me the picture!” Chase struggled to get it back. Jackie grinned. “Hey, Chase were you on the phone with Stacy?” Chase looked up how did you know!!?!” Chase was getting frustrated. “I was kinda looking in on you.” Jackie said. “Why the fuck are you trying to get in my business!!” “why were you trying to get in my business?!” jackie looked at him mad. Chase stopped and looked at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Jackie looked at chase and then at the picture. “What r u doing??” Chase looked at jackie concerned. Jackie quickly took the picture and ripped it apart throwing it to the ground. “NO!” chase shouted picking them up.”WHAT THE FUCK??”  “YOU WERE SPYING ON ME AND MARVIN WEREN'T YOU?! YOU KNOW EVERYTHING AND YOU TOLD EVERYONE!” "LIKE CANT I HAVE A LIFE WITHOUT YOU GETTING IN THE WAY!?  Jackie surprisingly yelled out loud. “W-what?” chase remembered that.. Was he not suppose to know? “DONT PLAY STUPID CHASE! WHY DONT U MIND UR OWN BUSINESS!” jackie yelled at him.chase was getting really mad.  “WHO FUCKIN CARES IF YOUR DATING THAT BITCH ANYWAYS!” chase shouted back. Marvin walked in the room he looked mad too. “Don't talk to him like that!” marvin said. “Why are you loving your own person?! Thats stupid!” Chase said." Your disgusting! "  At this point it was kinda turning into a fight. “SHUT UP CHASE SINCE WHEN DO U HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY THAT?? IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE LOVES YOU!” jackie was really angry, chase's face was shot with anger as well."SHUT UP!"  “You cant even take care of yourself!?” “yeh your the stupid one! Now i know why your wife didnt want you!” “THATS NOT WHY SHE LEFT ME!!” “ohh then why did she?” Marvin said with a smart comment. Chase looked at Marvin  and jackie with a death stare wishing that he couldt just punch those two right in the mouth. “YOU TWO DON'T CARE ABOUT HOW I FEEL!” “YOU DONT KNOW HOW IT FEELS!” Chase raged. “OF COURSE WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKIN LIFE THATS NOT OUR PROBLEM!” Marvin yelled. “WHY DONT U GO CRY YOURSELF ASLEEP LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO CHASE??” Jackie yelled. Chase never knew that he would get in a fight with them.they were one of his true best friends. “THAT'S ALL THAT YOUR EGO IS GOOD FOR CRYING!  ALL DAY YOU  CRY ABOUT SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T EVEN  WANT YOU!” At that point robbie and jameson were at the door watching the fight. “ALL YOU TALK ABOUT IS STACY! SHE DOESN'T LOVE YOU FOR THE LAST GODDAMN TIME!” “ SHE MAY NOT CARE ABOUT ME… BUT ATLEAST I HAVE A HEART!”the fight went back in forth. “I FUCKIN HATE THIS PLACE DO YOU THINK I WANNA SPEND MY LIFE WITH EVERYONE HERE! OF COURSE NOT!” Chase was talking over Marvin and jackie now they actually stopped to shut up. “NO ONE EVER CARES ABOUT HOW I FEEL! ITS NOT FUCKIN FAIR… I WISH I WAS DEAD!” chase got so loud now.. All the egos came in the room. That even everyone stopped to here what he had to say now . And chase was even crying too. “I HATE EVERYONE IN THIS GODDAMN WORLD! “But chase..” robbie began to say but Anti shook his head no to shut him up. “EVERY FUCKIN DAY I PRAY TO GOD THAT MY CHILDREN COME THROUGH THAT FUCKIN DOOR...BUT THEY NEVER DO BECAUSE MY ASSHOLE WIFE IS KEEPING THEM AWAY FROM ME!.. “AND I CRY EVERYDAY LIKE A FUCKIN LITTLE BITCH!” “DO YOU THINK MY LIFE IS SIMPLE! “ "I SHOULD JUST  KILL MYSELF! MAYBE THAT WILL FINALLY GET YOUR ATTENTION!!!" Henrik was staring at chase with tears in his eyes.. Everyone was.. Even Anti had to say.. He kinda felt bad for him. “I'M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU!” chase finally said wiping his tears away.”chase.. No..” Henrik pleaded. Chase didn't even bare looking at Henrik he just walk off pushing henrik pass him. Chase went out the door.  “What’s gonna happen to chase..” robbie said. “Well.. he’ll be back.” Anti said with his arm around robbie. Henrik picked the photo up. “Poor chase..” “i-im s-sorry doc…” Jackie looked to the ground upset. “I know you are jackie… I know….” 

When chase said Marvin didn't have a heart- well he does on his forehead XD lol this chapter was long..-_-

  IŞ̷̩͇͚̩̝̮͓̹͇̠͌̋̂̓̎̋͝͠C̷̨̺͈͔̟̲͇͔̮͖̄̍̈́̉͂̉̄̄͐͋̄̔͂̇ͅͅR̶̩̻̱̬̞̠͎̀͛̍͒̋̐̿̈̇̾̏̾̽͝ͅE̷̡̧̡̨̛̲͕̘͖̯̬̼̠̻̟͖̐̊̽͛̑̄̾̓̈Ą̶̙͈̭̗̝͖̦̯̠͖̤̣̬͙͛͐̈́̊̆̃͐̊M̵̛̗͋̃̽͝! 

"Mommy.. When is daddy coming back.." The kids were really upset they haven't seen their father in a month.. Stacy looked at her little girl. "I'm sorry honey.. But he isn't coming back.." Stacy forced herself to say. She knew she was lying to her own kids but she obviously didn't seem to care. "W-why..?" The little boy said. "Oh he doesn't want you guys anymore.he said that he didn't want to see you ever again." Stacy told the kids in a lie. "But Daddy loves us doesn't he?" Their voices sounded soft and muffled. Chase was desperate to see his kids that's the only thing he wanted. "I'm sorry kids he just doesn't have time for you.. But hey, it's better than not having no parents at all." Stacy hated her ex and couldn't see that he only wanted to change what he done in the past. Stacy was frustrated with his foolish choices.  Since he had been doing drugs about some time she can't trust him around her own children. "Now. I don't wanna hear you talk about him no more ok?". They both looked at their mother believing her . " yes mam." She hugged them both smiling.

~Meanwhile…   Jackie was getting some breakfast while thinking of what happened the other day. He couldn't believe that Chase wasn't coming back.. It was coming to the point where Chase might of left for good. Henrik came in the kitchen and saw Jackie staring off in the distance. "Jackie?" Henrik walked over to his friend to see if he was okay. Jackie seemed upset Henrik never seen him like this before. "Henrik.. Hey"  "What.. U doin?" Henrik said . he's probably worried about Chase. Even Henrik was sure of that everyone was starting to worry about Chase because he hasn't come back this morning. "I-its all.. My fault.."Jackie finally said in a baby voice.  Henrik looked up in shock. "What? No, no it's not your fault Jackie.." Henrik went to grab his shoulder.  Jackie around to face him. "Chase is gone… and it's all my fault!…" "Don't blame yourself He's gonna come back.." Henrik wasn't sure about that though. "If I have never been such a selfish bitch..He would have... still been here.." Jackie looked at the ground holding a cup of milk in his hands. "How is it your fault?? You couldn't have known chase was gonna storm out like that!" "Well who started the fight!" Jackie looked into the doctor's eyes looking really worried. "Jackie… please don't blame yourself.. I know Chase is probably.. Gone.. -look Chase was mad okay? Henrik studdard to say.. He loved Chase like more than a patient but as a brother of course he wasn't letting this get to him fast. " Why even bother talking some sense into me.. I'm the reason he's not coming back! What if… -what .. If Chase does something bad.. What if he trys to commit suicide again!." Jackie studdard hard where to the point he was trembling. Henrik was too. "Don't say that!!! He's gonna come back.. I know he is" "how do you know- Oh don't tell me.. Because your a Doctor.." Jackie said with a whacky voice. "I'm your friend Jackie stop blaming yourself!!" "Okay.. So what.. Chase can just never come back.. We're never gonna see him again!" Henrik looked at Jackie with a face that scared jackie, "ughh stop Jackie! I'm not gonna deal with someone that is gonna keep beating their self down for something that wasn't their fault!" Henrik's accent was sounding strong now. "Well… At least not ..again" Henrik cracked his neck and scratched his head gathering his thoughts. Jackie still looking at him worried."I don't know.. Everything I did was wrong.."  Henrik took a deep breath. And grabbed Jackie making him jump.   The cup dropped to the ground shattering.  "Listen.. Chase was wrong, to leave out mad...You were wrong to tour that photo… And Marvin was wrong to even join in in the fight.. Ands what made it worse…We were all wrong to just watch as chase was defending himself.. We could of stopped him …. But we didn't-" Henrik's eyes grew watery. He only cried when something really was sad to him.. He had a job.. And it seemed like a failed his patients. "Are you okay doc?" Jackie "y-yeh.." He said wiping his tears. "Look it's been a long year.. It's almost Christmas.. We all need to fix our mistakes, Now we need to hope that chase is gonna be okay, ok?" "Yes doc.. I mean. Henrik" Jackie smiled a little. "And don't let Chase tell you anything about love.. You and Marvin are fine together.." Henrik smiled back. Jackie sighed sadly. "Looks like its gonna be a depressing December after all huh?" Jackie Shrugged changing the subject. "I guess.." Henrik was uneasy he couldn't understand why Jackie was so at edge.. He never seen him like that. Maybe it is just the season, But season or not.. Chase was still out there.. And Henrik was gonna find him. 

Marvin just came out of the bathroom from doing his business when jackie came jumping in front of him. Marvin almost wet his pants again (lol i make no sense XD) “jackie!?” Marvin screamed. “Heyyyy Marv!” Jackie smiled happily. “You fuckin scared me!” Marvin took a breath. “Geez!” “oops sorry, hey can i talk to you?” Jackie asked. “Ok, it better not be long i gotta help decorate the tree.” Marvin and jackie sat on the couch Anti and jameson were helping decorate the tree.. Mostly jameson, Anti hated to. Robbie was there caring the star which was to heavy for him.  “So, what's up?” Marvin quickly asked. “Im very worried about Chase.. I dont think hes coming back.” jackie said. “Well.. I'm sure he will, i mean he's probably not gonna survive out there by himself.” Marvin told him. “I was afraid you'd say that..” Marvin took his hand and placed it on jackie's leg. “Don't overthink it, Chase is smart enough to come back.” “we yelled at him..pretty badly..” Marvin sighed at jackie's comment. “What are we gonna do?” “since i started the fight.. And ripped the picture.. I'll go find him.” “no!” marvin cried. “Don't go out there alone im coming with you..i love you.” Marvin said. “I love you too Marv.. but i think chase was kinda more mad at you.” jackie laughed a little. “Excuse me??” mavin said. “Let me go by myself.” “fine, just take someone with you.” marvin said with a smile. “Ok bye love you.” jackie kissed marvins cheek with marvin blushing. As jackie was leaving he bumped into Robbie. “Ow!!” robbie said falling down. “Hi jackie!” jackie helped him up. “Be careful geez.” “where going?” Robbie asked. “None of your business.” jackie pushed him. “Why?” robbie said. “Huh?” jackie didn't understand what he meant. “But i want come- I mean to- I WANT TO COME” “haha what?” Jackie laughed. “Ughhh i want to come with you!” Robbie shouted trying to sound normal. They both busted out laughing. “Whatever who cares!” Robbie said giggling. “So can i??” “no.” jackie stopped laughing. “Whyyyyyy.” Robbie whined. “It's too dangerous, im sorry but your a kid.” “i'm no kid! I'm a man!” Robbie said putting his hand on his chest. “Who cares what you are i'm going to find chase.” Jackie laughed. “Oh. i miss chase.” robbie said upset. “Dont worry ill bring him back.” jackie got down on his knees and looked at robbie. “Ok.. bye jackie.” robbie hugged him. “Bye robbie make sure to tell the others and make sure to leave an ornament for me to hang on the tree.” “okie buh bye!” robbie waved as jackie got up and went to the kitchen. Jackie was sure that he would find Chase.. He probably was at Stacy’s??? Jackie wasn't sure actually. Jackie bumped in henrik on way while spilling henriks eggnog on his turtleneck sweater. “Jackie! That was a new sweater!” “ow! I keep bumping into people today everyone is so in a rush.” jackie said helping him. “Their not the only ones.. Where you off to?” Henrik said with one eyebrow raised. Jackie sighed and looked up at the doctor. He knew he couldnt get away with it. “I'm gonna try to find Chase..” Jackie finally said. “Oh… well.. I'm sure your not going alone. Are you?” Henrik asked wanting to go with him. Jackie smiled and patted dhenrik on his arm. “Oh doc of course you can come.” Jackie said answering Henriks question. “Oh ok. Let me get my jacket and change.” Henrik said walking away. “Ok i'll clean this up..” jackie rolled his eyes and started to clean the eggnog. ~Time Skip~ “ok lets go. I'll take the car you coming?” Henrik said getting in his car. “HA! I'm a superhero i can fly!” Jackie bragged putting his hoodie on. “Hmm? Ok.” Henrik cranked up his car and began to leave. And jackie just walked. (he couldnt fly XD) ~While on the way.~ “CHASE!! WHERE ARE YOU!” Jackie jumped rock to rock. He ran through the woods trying to find his friend. “Ugh where are you..” ~Meanwhile~ Henrik kept trying as the window was down he looked yelling chases name over and over. “CHASE!!!” Henrik cried. “Come on.. Where are you?” Henrik whispered. “I will find him if i have to search all night.. I will.”(he never did XD)  ~Meanwhile, Again.~ “CHAAAAAAAAASE!” jackie yelled in a tree. “Damn it.” jackie sighed. “What have I done... “ ~10 Hours passed~ it was getting dark and the doctor and the superhero still haven't found Chase.. They both called each other to head back to the Septiceye house and continue the search tomorrow. But still somewhere out there Chase was alone.. 

(Hey guys, when i was Roleplaying this i thought of Chase singing the song Let Me Make You Proud :D so that’s what he does. Ok back to the story.)

Let Me Make You Proud | Music Video | Tangled: The Series 

~AFTER HE SINGS~ 

Chase was determined to get away from everyone as soon as possible, especially marvin and jackie.  The wind blew and it felt really nice outside. Not hot or cold. Chase thinked that he wouldn't be able to find somewhere else to go but also..He never had a fight withMarvin and Jackie  before  that bad.. And chase never felt that made since his last fight with stacy.. He thought Jackie and Marvin were his best friends.. He just didn't wanna think about them right now.. Chase was really mad mostly crushed cause of the words he said to them… it all came back to him. I wish i was dead.. If i kill myself that will get their attention.. I'm done with all of you… Chase clenched his eyes shut a shiver came threw his spine. He soon grew tired of walking. And the winds blew through his hair. He sighed and just looked around to see all the houses. He looked around for somewhere to sit but didn't see any place. He turned around to hear a noise from off the distance. “What the-?” He started to walk over and see. “Who wants ice cream!!” A cheerful voice said. Chase looked to see a man with vibrant blue hair, blue, white, and pink checkered shirt, a blue-and-white soda jerk hat, and a simple white apron. He was pulling an ice cream cart and a sign that said “ get your icecream 50 bucks!’ Chse watched with his hands in his PMA hoodie pockets. The man  looked very happy and had a big smile across his face.  Chase wonders why no one was showing up? Usually everyone wanted ice cream! Then finally a mom and her little girl showed up. The man looked at them with a smirk showing his teeth.”my names mad mike wanna bite!” He winked at the little girl and her mom.  “I GOT SOME ICE CREAM!” he shouted at them. “Mommy momy! I want icecweam!!” The little girl jumped up and down tugging at her moms coat. Chase kept on watching and couldnt believe how much it reminded him of his own little girl. “Okay honey one ice cream please.” “OF COURSE!!!!” Mad mike said. He pulled one out of his ice cream cart. “That will be 50 bucks!” He said handing to the little girl. “What???” the woman told him. “Thats too much i cant afford that!” She looked at him with a mad face. “Oops did i say 50 i mean 500.” He smarted off. “Excuse me??” “FUCK IT IT'S FREE!” He started to give the ice cream to the girl  and laughed. The woman looked at him with wide eyes. “Hurry up and eat it honey.. This guy is weird.” she whispered in her daughter's ear. “Okie mommy.” Mad mike looked at her and bit his lip. She gave the icecream a huge lick, and then suddenly her face scrunched up in disgust. “EWWWWWW!!!!! TISth TATHSSS BAD!! The little girl shouted sticking her tongue out. The ice cream dropped to the ground. “It's good for you.. Yummy drugs!” Mad mike said happily. “WHAT!!!!???”” The woman shouted with an angry face. Mad mike got another icecream out the cart. “HERE HAVE ANOTHER!” “NO! I DON'T WANT IT!” The little girl shrieked. As her mom hugged her. “EAT THE ICECREAM YOU LITTLE SHIT!! IT'S GOOD FOR YOU!” He shoved it in her face making it spladder. The little girl started crying loudly “MOMMMYYYY!!!” she shouted. Her moms face grew with anger. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!” The woman got up and slapped him right in the jaw. Mikes face turned red and he rubbed his cheek. Then out of nowhere a man came it looked like the woman's husband. “Leave my wife and daughter alone!” He said angrily at mike. Mike grew of shock and gulped. “S-sir.. Want some ice cream hehe..” He said beginning to walk away. THe man took hold of his apren and cursed in his face. “YOU CAN TAKE THAT ICE CREAM AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR FUCKIN ASS!” He said picking him up. Mad mike didn't say anything instead he nodded very quickly as the man let go dropping him to the ground. “Lets go sweety she picked up her daughter and went with her husband as he stepped on the ice cream his daughter had just dropped. Chase looked at the family in shock. “Thanks babe” The woman kissed her husband. And they all went home with mad faces.  Chase looked at them with sad eyes wishing that was him and stacy.. Then he also began to walk away shoving the thought away he quickly walked so that he didn't have to be caught in any business with that guy… when out of nowhere someone grabbed his hat. “What the f-” Chase turned around to see Mad Mike standing in front of him. They both looked in each others wide  eyes. And surprisingly they both said at the same time.. “Do I know you?” 

(this is where the shit gets real!)

“U-um.. hello..” Chase awkwardly said with his face turning red. ”hmm you look really familiar..“   Mike said squinting his eyes. “You too… “ Chase said with a calm voice. “Hmm?? “  Then mad mike shook his head to clear his mind. “Hi! How ya doin?” he asked taking out an ice cream. “I'm just dying inside now can i have my hat back.” Chase said being rude. “Haha! Aww cheer up! U should have some ice cream!” He said giving it to him. “No thanks..” Chase said disgusted. “But it's free!” Mike kept talking. “Ugh leave me alone! I don't want your damn ice cream.” Chase began to walk away. “Fine….i guess you won't be needing your baseball cap. This looks good on my head!” Chase quickly turned around and tried to grab the hat. “Ugh give it to me!” Mike snatched it away from chase and then he noticed something. “What's wrong with you?” he asked. “U-uh nothing i just had a rough day..” chase told him. “Wowie!” Mike cheerfully said not caring what chase said. “Wait? I swear i know you!” chase looked up and looked at mike. “Who are you?’ chase said with confusion. “The question is who are you?” mike touched his nose. Chase blushed and rubbed his nose. “Really who are you.” mike said laughing. “Oh! My names Chase.” Chase said putting his hands in his pockets. “Last name?” Mike questioned with one eyebrow raised. “Does it matter!” Chase said. “Well i guess not.” Since chase couldt trust Mike cause of their nice little conversation it was clear mike was a nice person.”Chase Brody.” Chase answers. “Hmm? Still doesn't ring a bell.””they ring a bell! Like ding ding ding top of moring!  Haha!” Chase said out loud. “WHAT!?” Mike looked up. “W-what i didnt say anything.” Chase awkwardly said. “What did you just say?” Mike repeated. “Nothing.” Chase said being stupid. “Oh ok.” Mike was sure that he knew him but he couldnt place where he saw him from either could chase. Anyway Mike forgot to introduce himself so he gladly did. “My names Mad Mike!” Mike grabbed chases hand and started shaking it while shaking chases whole body. “U-um ok hi Mike.” Chase said stumbling on his feet. “But you do seem like a nice guy.. Accept you look kinda down..what's the matter?” Mike said with his head tilted. “Would you really wanna know.. I mean since we both obviously know each other… I guess i can trust that do wouldn't be rude about it. Chase shrugged looking at Mike who was still dangling chases hat around. Chase watched and then shook his head. “So..um listen so i'm not that good with relationships.. You see my wife left me-” Chase started to say when mike jumped up and interrupted him. “Aww thats so sad..”  Chase looked at him. “And well you see i have kids.. And now she wont let me see them.” Chase heard Mike gasp. “You have kids that have been taken away from you.. Me too- well actually my little girl was..” Mike said with a sad voice. “O-oh really what happen im so sorry.. That must of been hard for you..” Chase asked picking at the hairs on his beard. “Well i'm actually angry mostly.. But theres no way shes coming back..” Mike said. Chase gaspd “im so sorry for your loss..” Chase said. “W-what? She's not dead!” Mike said looking up. “Oh sorry.” “you sure say sorry alot.” Mike said being mean. “I know its a bad habit.. I miss her..” Chase said thinking out loud. “Who?” “my wife duh.. Her name was Stacy.. I loved her more than anything and then when she had kids that was the only thing that i cared for so much in the world.. She had a boy and a girl.they loved to play different things with me , i really miss them.. But one day Me and her had a big fight and she told me to leave.. Ill nevr forget the look on my kids faces as i slammed the door and left.. I just heard their cries yelling “please don't leave us daddy..” And now Stacy wont let me see them at all anymore.. I used to on the weekends but.. Now I don't..” Chase explained the whole story of how Stacy completely took away the advantage to see the kids.. And how his drinking problem became even worse. Mike listened to that part and knew chase would love to hear his secret about the ice cream. But  As Mike listened his face grew mad and frustrated. “If I were you I would just take the kids and run- but i guess that will be illegal, huh?” Mike shrugged. “I'm not kidnapping my children!” Chase told him. Mike sighed and began to tell his story. “Well my daughters name is Annie i loved her so much.. Don't worry I may look like a psychopath- er-but i really was a good father or that's what I thought.. ..accept when they took her away from me…” Mad mike said looking at the ground. Chase looked down to see him clenching his fists in anger very tightly, he looked really mad.. Chase gulped. “W-whose t-they?..” chase asked scared. “The police… “ mike answered in a quiet voice. “Oh..” chase said. “i - i did a bad thing.. Chase.. “ mike said. Before chase could talk mike quickly shut up and said. “Please don't call the police! - i-i can't go back!” mike grabbed chase by his arm. Chase looked down and then up frightened. “I-i wont… I promise!” chase said very quickly. Mike let go of him. Chase could see the angrez flashing in his bright hazel eyes. Chase was scared now but wanted to trust him because they both were going through these things. “I trust you chase.. We are both fathers and miss our kids.. “ mike said. “Im sorry Annie didn't deserve to be taken away from you.. You deserve so much in your life.” chase said trying to cheer his new friend up. “Yeah but your wife sounds like an asshole! Ugh that's why i hate females-``''pfft yeah… I guess.” chase said in a sad voice. “What did you even do to make the police take her away?” chase asked. But Mike didn't answer he was looking in his ice cream cart. “Wanna see something?” Mike asked pulling out a crate. Chase nodded and realized all that time mike still had his hat in his hands. Mike accedaentilly dropped the crate it seemed heavy, and it opened. Chase's eyes got really wide.  Whiskey bottles were inside. “Pick them up! I can't let anyone see this!” Chase jumped and quickly started helping. “Why the fuck do you have drugs in this-are you selling them?” “shhh! Geez- yes i'm trying to get rid of it before the police finds out.” when they picked it up mike showed chase. “You can take a bottle if you want.” Mike winked. Chase looked at the bottles of whiskey and wanted to chug down every last bit of it.. Accept he remembered what Henrik told him that he shouldn't drink.. “U-um no thanks I don't do drugs anymore-” “what!? You quit drinking! And to learn to be happy when we became friends.`` Mike crossed his arms in an attitude. “It's not that I don't like it, it's just that my doctor tol-” “your doctor! Doctors are losers! They just try to get in your head- what should really be getting in your head is the good feeling of being drunk, just fill your mind with empty thoughts, forget about everything.” Mike calmly said in a pleasing voice that made chase want it. He licked his lips as mike lifted it up and drank some. “Ahh thats the good shit!” Mike gulped looking at chase smiling. When they both heard a phone go off. The ringtone was “All The Way” chase jumped up as he heard his own voice. “Wowie is that you singing?” “no! Its my phone ringing.” chase said not getting what mike ment. Chase took out the phone and saw that it was Henrik. He declined and quickly put it away acting like it was something to hide. Mike was trying to peek at who it was- maybe cause he was worried that chase was trying to call the police. “W-whos that??” Mike quickly said worried. “I-its nobody-” “are you trying to call the police!” “what why will I ever do that i'm your friend!!” “Give me your phone!” Mike said. “What? I didn't do anything!?” Mike layed down  the hat and the bottle  “give me the damn phone!” mike grabbed the phone out of chases pocket and through it  “dude what the fuck!!” Chase shouted. Mike picked the hat and bottle back up sniffing. “I'm sorry- i just-..” “no.. its ok Mike..i guess i did the phone anyway- i mean well not know more” chase said. “What's that supposed to mean??” Mike looked at him worried. “I don't know.” “well.. Since i can trust you and were best friends. You have to promise you won't tell anyone ok?” “ok.”  “wowie i can't believe I found someone like you- i haven't had a friend like you in ages..” Mike told him. “Yeah.. me too my friends don't care about me no more that's why i left..” “oh-” Mike looked up to hear a noise off in the distance which made him look scared. “Do you hear that?”  Mike asked looking around. “No..” chase gulped looking at mike. It was the sound of sirens!! “Oh fuck!!” Mike  jumped up . Police cars were coming around the corner. Mike looked at chase, chase saw his scared eyes. “You called the police!!!” Mike's voice sounded fearful. The police cars stopped where they were and two policemen came out with guns. “FREEZE!” One of them said. CHase jumped up and looked at mike they both looked at eachother . There's no way chase was ending up like this. One of the policemen grabbed chase but chase quickly punched one in the mouth. Chase quickly grabbed his hat and grabbed the whiskey out of Mike's hand and stuffed  it in his hoodie pocket. “I SAID FREEZE!” The police said starting to run over to Mike. Chase looked at Mike and then sprang out running the other way, “COME BACK HERE!’ Mike shouted. “YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE! The policemen grabbed MIkes arms.  “NO!!! I CAN'T GO BACK!!” “NOO!! YOU PROMISED!!! Mike cried “YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T TELL!!” Mike struggled to get free but the policemen were to strong. Mike started crying as one of them got out the handcuffs. “You're gonna go away for a long time.” The policeman said. Mike had tears falling and the anger in his eyes were too much. He pushed and pushed but it was no use. His arms were too weak to push them off. Chases heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster. Looking back to see Mike being handcuffed.. And being forced to be put into the police car, he heard his cries and the look on his face when chase ran..  and now chases heart beating as hard as it could when he heard Mike cry even louder“YOU PROMISED!!” Mike yeled louder and louder still trying to fight them. “AHHHH!!! NOO!!!” Chase  heard Mikes pitiful words as he ran  Mikes voice  grew quieter and quieter as chase went father. And the blue and red light from the police cars were around the corner. What have i done! I'm leaving him- and he was my friend...but he kept on running. And then he tripped over a rock. “Fuck!” He shrieked. HIs hand was bleeding and the sharp pain hurt badly.  he heard someone coming It was the other  policeman. CHase got up quickly still tripping over his feet and then sprintied off to where he ran as fast as the wind. “STOP!”  Chase ran even faster he couldnt believe what had just happened but he wouldn't stop running he wasn't going  to jail. He had a family and he had friends.. But the thought of that hurt his heart alot.. Mike had a family too.. Chase hated the fact that he was the bad guy in this Mike was innocent.. As the policeman chased him through the street chase thought of all the ways that he could just say sorry over and over  again to everyone that he dissopointed... But it wasn't the time to. The man was getting closer as Chases stomach was aching and his heart. In his mind he pictured Mike trying to get  free from the police man's grip but couldnt and he was yelling for chase to come help…. The faster he ran the more he breathed harder. He finally came across a park that was closed for the night. THere was his way to escape! There was a fence there and CHase thought that he could probably lose the the man for now.  Since Chase did different stunts when he blogged,  he could jump over the fence pretty easily. Chase sped up and got ready to jump as he heard the policeman coming. He then sprang as high as he could and fell on his feet stumbling on the other side into some bushes.cutting his hand even more. As the police ran by chase was relieved that he was free. With a sigh he made sure he was gone for sure. Poor mike didn't deserve to get taken  by the police.. And when he broke a promise..he probably will never see Mike again. Chase got up and it turned dark. Chase couldnt take it anymore, he sat on a bench which wasn't comfortable he wished he was at home  In his soft bed. “I miss you Henrik..im so..sorry..” he said beginning to fall asleep. “But I don't care anymore.. “ then chase got out the bottle of whiskey and look at it in shame.. “To forget about everything..” chase unscrewed it.. And slowly put it to his mouth. “Im sorry… even 100 sorrys wouldn't be enough for you..huh?” he lifted it up and started to chug it down. To him it was everything he wanted. He truly didn't care anymore.Its like the drugs numbed the pain chase was feeling inside and the physical ones too. Drinking was his only way to forget all of his mistakes and problems, it was like medicine. As he drank even more it was coming to the point where he couldn't sit up. He drank the last sip and blacked out, Hugging his hat, it's like the thought of his family and friends washed away by the drugs. And that day he would never forget Mad mike.. And the words he would never forget will always be..

You promised…

[anuschkalova]

Simply and Sanely PART 6 (Jeremiah x Reader)

A/N: Things are heating up. Enjoy! Summary: Y/N gets in trouble and Jeremiah helps her. But little does she know that he drags her into more trouble, making Y/N a part of his plans. Forcing her to enter the dangerous life of Gotham’s underwolrd. Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x Reader Word count: 3,457 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 🖤Masterlist🖤

Previously: A devious smile formed his lips as he looked down at the photograph of you leaving the strip club. „Gottcha.“ ___ The previous tenant of your apartment had chosen this dazzling shade of green for the hallway’s walls. It reminded you of a pop-eyed frog that had exploded and its remains got soaked in by the dry walls. The green color was sickening, but you endured it. The luxury of new white paint seemed unaffordable by checking your account balance. You needed to save the money. You opened the door of your apartment and sighed in relief at the sight of your hallway. God, you’ve never felt such gratefulness being able to see this ugly shade of green again. Suddenly, you found yourself on the floor, weeping bitterly.  All the horrible events and emotions overwhelmed you; witnessing death and being kidnapped felt like nightmares in the moment, but now - back in your own little world - they felt real. Too real. And there was no escape from it… You flinched as footsteps approached you. Camila, your neighbor, came to an halt at sight of your miserable state. She threw her hands in the air while scolding you in Spanish.  „Dios mío! De dónde…?“ „Not now, Camila. Please, por favor. I’m fine.“ You passed her with shaky knees and the middle-aged woman followed you to the bathroom. Her dark eyes glistened with anger and concern.  „Y/N, nina, explain! I was worried, you didn’t come home and police showed up…-“ A gleam of panic struck your exhausted body. You stared at Camila with widened eyes. „The police?“ „Sí. Two officers.“ You took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on your face. Camila started to talk again, asking you too many questions, so you pressed the mute button and disregarded her. You focused on your self-reflection on the mirror and lent it your voice. 

Two police officers were here. Why? Silly me, you knew it. The shooting at the ally… I’m a precious witness, they probably watched the records of the security cameras outside the club. Yeah, of course. That’s why. But what now? You bit on your lower lip as you avoided your own eye-contact. They will come back to question me, like Camila does now. But they will be stricter and won’t accept my silence. It will be tough. So what should I do? Jeremiah’s nerve-wracking smile popped up in your mind when he gave you the answer back in the car. He said I should tell the truth. He can’t be serious. Is he testing me? I need to tell the police about Martinez, but maybe that’s part of his plan? This maniac will kill me after I achieved my purpose, no doubt.I won’t be his puppet. I will find a way breaking free from his little game and saving Martinez. „Y/N!“ Camila placed her hand on your swollen cheek and you hissed. The pain brought you immediately back to reality.  „Did someone hit you? A man?“, she asked alarmed. Camila knew about your night-time job and how moody the drunken customers could get after some beer and whisky. Her daughter had known as well - she used to work as a stripper and prostitute in a seedy club down the street. She lived in her mother’s apartment above you and the arguments were very loud and heated. Until one night in March last year - it became all quiet. Just here and there you would hear the muffled sobs of a mother who had lost its only child. She was 22 years-old when a man had chocked her to death. Since then, Camila took care of you. „No. Just a jealous woman.“ You tried to soothe her worries with a fake smile, the best you could pull, but your weak attempt didn’t fool her. Before she could inspect your appearance any further, you hid in the room next door. Careful to shut the door quietly, you stepped closer to the bed and noticed the fresh tulips on the night table. Camila was truly an angel, you thought and reached out to gently touch your sister’s face. Her skin was almost as white as the bed sheets and it made you gulp. „Hey, I’m back“, you whispered, brushing some strains of hair out of her face. The beeping machines that kept your sister alive were the only audible response you got. They were running for two years now - since the day your beloved sister went into a coma. She looked so peaceful in her never-ending sleep, so calm and normal. During the daytime you’d imagine how she spent the night with her friends, hitting the club and drinking too many drinks, then sneaking into her room and sleeping tightly till afternoon, totally exhausted. During nighttime you’d imagine how she danced all day, or rode the bike to Gotham’s only park and took a nice long walk, petted some cute dogs, ate ice-cream and then came home before you’d arrive. She’d be so tired and wouldn’t wake up when you pressed a good-night kiss on her cheek.Those little fantasies comforted you and kept you going, regardless how sad it was. You would proof all the doctors wrong who gave up on you sister. You would work night after night in that hell of a strip club to earn the money for those life-sustaining machines.  You sat down on the chair next to the bed and heard something crackling in the pocket of your dress. You frowned and slid your hand inside to pull out some kinked dollar bills. „What the…“, you mumbled, but then remembered: It was the money you had stolen from the four men in the alley, the bastard who tried to rape you. 250 dollar. You harshly wiped the fresh tears away and walked back to the door. Now was not the time to cry. „Camila!“, you called out and the woman stormed towards you. You gave her 50 dollars. „Here, please buy her medicine.“ Camila took it and nodded. You squeezed her hand and thanked god for this caring woman before you rushed into your room. You took the black dress off and changed into more comfortable and neutral-colored clothes. It was time to visit an old friend.  ___ Thieves were not uncommon in Gotham and in fact a part of everyday life. Desperate scream like ‚Stop thief!‘ and ‚Help, I got robbed!‘ turned into basic background noises along with the honking cars and swishing helicopters. You stood by a kiosk when you witnessed one of those crimes. With your face deep in the hood of your jacket, you were looking into the distance at a well-dressed business man. He ordered a coffee and didn’t notice the stranger’s hand inside his back pocket. With his purse in her hands, Selina Kyle passed the man casually and entered an alley. You followed her and spotted her figure sitting on some fire stairs three meters above the ground. She smirked victoriously as she counted the money.  „A good catch?“, you made yourself noticeable and Selina raised her head, only to title if after a second. „Did you get lost?“, she asked back and you shook your head slightly. „I was looking for you.“  „I’m honored“, Selina said sarcastically and dropped the empty purse in front of your feet. You bit your lower lip while looking around for possible listeners. Selina noticed your uneasiness and climbed down effortlessly. Her moves always reminded you of a cat. And as one, she stared at you with her green observing eyes. „What’s wrong?“ You shoved a hand towards her, nodding reassuringly and watched her puzzled face turning into one with surprise after she took the money from you. „200 dollar“, you simply said. „For what?“ „I need a gun“, you said  and Selina raised her eyebrows. „For self-defense. You know where I work at and after all, this is Gotham“, you explained yourself, but Selina didn’t buy that. „Why not just go and buy one? There are plenty stores at every corner. After all, this is Gotham.“ There it was, the sassiness of a survivor.  „Too many cameras. Nobody needs to know.“ Selina narrowed her eyes. She was skeptical, for good reason. „Nobody or… a specific person?“ You sighed. Selina wasn’t stupid nor naive, she knew that something was off, you saw it in her eyes, but she was one of your friends and you couldn’t involve her any further into your problems. So you shrugged the hood off of your head and offered her a small smile.  „Please, Selina. I know I can rely on you and I need your help. You are one of the few people I trust the most“, you confessed and Selina scoffed as she considered your request. In the end, she gave in and buried the dollar bills deep in the pocket of her leather jacket. „Fine“, she mumbled. It took a load off your mind. „Thank you.“  ___ Oswald’s head snapped up when he heard someone walk into his office. „Victor“, he breathed and rushed a few steps towards the hitman. The bold man folded his hands in front of him as he stood there, smirking at the Penguin.  „Cut that stupid grin and tell me what you got!“, Oswald demanded, gripping his walking stick firmly. But Victor just passed him to pull out a chair, indicating Oswald to take a seat. The black-haired man fought against the urge to activate the hidden knife in his walking stick, but he obliged and sat down. „Well, Victor?“, he raised his chin and eyed him expectantly. Victor laid three photographs of Y/N on the table for Oswald to see. One where she left the strip club with the four men close behind. One by Jeremiah’s car in front of her apartment. And one showing Y/N and Selina together this afternoon.  Oswald took one photograph in his hand to take a closer look at the woman’s face. „Who is she?“ „Your free ticket to that maniac“, Victor answered at which Oswald got his full attention, so he continued: „This woman was involved in the shooting at the alley. He took her with him, dropped her by her apartment like a gentleman and right after that she met up with that kitten, gave her a lot of money.“ The Penguin brought his other hand to his mouth as he was deep in thought. His fingers tapped quickly against his lips. „You want me to bring that lady to you?“, Victor asked into the silence, but his boss raised his hand to hush him. „No. We don’t know her connection to Mr. Valeska. Bring me Selina instead.“ ___ The Wonderland’s strip club was always very crowded by the end of the week. It was Thursday night and you were inside the dressing room, applying make up for your soon to start show. The foundation had covered the redness of your cheek, but not the swelling. However, you didn’t care as the customers won’t look at your face during your performance. A hard knock at the door made you flinch. „Five minutes! Hurry up!“, someone called and you put the make up away, inspecting your attire in the mirror. You wore a breath of nothing, a black leather lingerie that barley covered the most important parts. The thong was connected to the bra via three straps and the material squeaked softly as you walked. It was sexy; a men’s dreams, but for you it was just work clothes. With slow and long steps, you moved on the stage. All eyes were on your body as you started you performance, swaying your hips to the music and teasingly circling the pole. Whistles and dirty compliments came from all directions and you forced a smirk on your red lips. You moved to the edge of the stage, kneeling down and playfully winking at the first row. The whistles got louder. You stood up and danced seductively, touching your curves the way all those shameless men would wish to. Your eyes wandered lazily around the dark club and you blinked, looking back where you’d spotted something off. There, at a table near the bar, Jeremiah sat quietly and dead still, unlike his conspecifics. His piercing green eyes followed your every movement and it made you shiver. Taken aback, you had stopped your performance and stared back at the fine dressed criminal. „Hey, keeping going, sugar!“, some men yelled and you continued. You turned your back to the audience and held the pole, wiggling your arse. The howling was deafening.  Why is he here? You glimpsed over your shoulder and searched for his table, but he was gone. Then, another stripper appeared on stage who pressed her lips to you ear. „You have to go backstage. There’s a man waiting for you“, she whispered and you nodded, leaving the stage.  You heart was bounding like a jackhammer as you walked along the back area, looking for this maniac’s devious smile. „Y/N L/N?“, a man that you were about to pass addressed you. „Yes?“, you responded unsure and stopped. He had a solid body language and a stern expression, but his eyes shimmered with relief at your confirmation. He didn’t look like your regular customers. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, too formal for a little fun. „James Gordon, GCPD“, he introduced himself and offered you his hand. That’s when you noticed the police badge and gun on his belt. You licked your lips that became dry all of a sudden. „GCPD…?“, you repeated and took his hand, his grip was strong, but reserved. He nodded. „I’m sorry to bother you at… work.“ His eyes darted around in a appraising way and you mentally shared his dislike for this shithole. „But I need to ask you a few questions about an incident you have been involved in.“  There it was. Your fear came true. Acting settled and collected, you smiled politely and nodded. „Of course.“ „You may want to change in your regular clothes. The interview will take place at the GCPD’s Headquarters.“ ___ The interrogation room was cold and sparingly furnished with one metal table and two chairs. A small rectangular window was the only source of light along two lamps on the walls. The huge mirror next to you made you feel observed. You had no idea how many police officers had gathered behind it. 

Gordon sat opposite to you. He waited patiently until you felt comfortable enough to talk. You held a warm cup of black coffee in your hands and formed the sentences in your head.  „Are you ready?“, the GCPD captain asked with his voice low, careful not to yank you out of your thoughts. You met his eyes and took a sip of your coffee. „Yes.“ „Alright“, he said and coughed. „Tell me, what happened in the night of the shooting?“ And so you did. You told Gordon about the group of men that had molested you during your performance, how they chased you outside and that Jeremiah Valeska had shot them in order to help you. You mentioned the other men he killed, that Jeremiah used you to get away from the crime scene. „And then?“, Gordon who had listened very carefully asked. You’d noticed how his jaw tensed at the criminal’s name. You hesitated shortly before you continued: „And then he guided me to a dark alley where a car picked him up. That’s it.“ „And this was his farewell gift?“, he pointed at your injured cheek and you shook your head.  „Just a misunderstanding“, you lied. Gordon opened the file that laid the whole time next to him to read something.  „All three men have been robbed. I doubt that Mr. Valeska was after their money.“ Shit. Okay, this time you chose the truth. „I stole it“, you confessed. „My sister is very ill and I needed the money. You see, I don’t let myself be humiliated night after night because I like it.“ Gordon lowered his gaze and you believed to see some sympathy on his features. Just as you considered yourself on the safe side, he put a spoke in your wheel.  „Where were you yesterday?“ You fumbled with the tip of your hair to avoid Gordon’s eyes. „At home. I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door. I was too scared“, you mumbled and the man sighed. He leaned a little over the table. „Y/N, if you have any information about Jeremiah Valeska’s whereabouts then you need to tell me. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, I can help you.“ A shaky breath escaped your lips that you covered up with coughing. You wanted to tell him the truth, you really did, but you couldn’t.  „I have no idea where he is and that’s the truth.“ You stuck with your story and Gordon gave in. He nodded towards the mirror and stood up, making the chair screeching. He accompanied you to the door which he opened for you. You thanked him with a smile and took a step outside when Gordon grabbed your wrist. „Stay away from Jeremiah. He is dangerous and unpredictable“, he whispered and you stiffened. You hoped that he didn’t notice the twitch in your face, so you looked him straight in the eyes and lied right in the face of law. „I will.“ Gordon had no idea that you would break your promise within the next two minutes. In your defense, it wasn’t your intention. As soon as you stepped out of the GCPD building, a familiar car stood by the side of the road. You didn’t waste any time and got on, shutting the door way too hard. Jeremiah kept silent and seemed to ignore your presence. The driver pulled on the busy road. „You didn’t tell them about the boy. Why?“, Jeremiah asked monotonically while he adjusted his gloves. You turned towards him.  „You wanted me to tell the truth. You wanted the police to know about the boy… That’s part of your plan“, you hissed and he leaned his head back, studying your face. „I’m not your puppet. I won’t fulfill your insane plans.“ God, you would pat yourself on the back if you wouldn’t shake like a little baby. „I must admit, Y/N, that I feel hurt“, Jeremiah spoke slowly and bent over to you. „I thought my charm would be enough to persuade you.“ You didn’t flinch, even though his face was a few inches away. His breath ghosted over your skin and the craziness in his eyes seemed within reach. „What charm?“, you stroke back and raised an eyebrow. It was a risky move, but his arrogance literally asked for that. 

Your cockiness triggered something as Jeremiah’s lips curled into a wide smile, revealing his teeth.  You hoped that he didn’t see the goosebumps on your arms as he stared at your trembling lips. Suddenly, his hands crashed on your body, holding your waist tight and in place when you tried to jump up. His grin was gone, but his eyes were still fixed on your face. Panic began to build. „I’m really tempted to taste that little nasty tongue of yours“, Jeremiah growled lowly and his gloved nails dug into your flesh. You winced at the pain and clutched his west firmly, so hard that your knuckles turned white.Then, he started to approach you, slowly but surely to savor your horrified look. But when his hand glided on your tight, you lost it - and you spit on his face. Jeremiah pulled his head back and blinked a few times as some of your saliva had hit his eye. He wiped it away and let out a muffled chuckle while looking at your spit on his fingers. You were sure he would hit you, beat you into the hospital, but instead Jeremiah moved his hand to his mouth to lick off your saliva. You couldn’t believe it and stared at him closing his eyes in consumption. „Thanks for the foretaste“, he said and you shook your head. „You’re crazy, you’re…-“ A loud explosion interrupted you and you automatically ducked down. „What was that?!“, you yelled and looked out of the window hastily. You saw a huge cloud of black smoke hovering above Gotham. People were screaming and running away from the disaster.  „That is my foretaste“, Jeremiah said calmly and observed the chaos outside the car casually. „I blew up a library near Grant Park. I guess that 30 people died in that explosion. 30 people that would be alive if you hadn’t disobeyed me, my dear.“ To be continued… Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 🖤Masterlist🖤

Tag-List: (Please let me know if you want to be added)

@riddlersriddlet @lilith-shachath @manicmaven @crazydcchick @malectrash8714 @moonlit-mornings-blog @melli-1808 @nikkipaigesalinas @ohyesmarvel @subtlemalice @fraxxavier @miahworshippe  @fand0msgal0re @nanuks-hell-hole @lonely-entity

[pastelpinkcheeks]

Oh, dear, you guys really are giving me material to work with. Sorry for the overall delay, but as my health is fragile these days, it’s hard getting anything done really.

 Anyways, here we go, not adequate for working environment Diavolo/Doppio/Risotto with Doppio wearing lingerie, I hope you don’t mind that little thing I added! 

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The white lace had been an indicative, now that Doppio thought back about that.

Standing across the room, the dimmed lights throwing peculiar shadows on his lean, juvenile body, he could hear the faintest whisper of conversation from the other side. There, the two man constantly meddling with his life were discussing something of importance to them. What was it, he couldn’t know, but his shivering frame stood still, obeying the order he received from the Boss.

The lingerie was pretty, in fact. Something expensive, he gathered, by the way the lace felt soft against his freckled complexion and the cool satin hugged his genitals just right, as if it had been tailored. Knowing Diavolo, it could very much be the case. Doppio ran his rand across his lower stomach, admiring the white satin gleaming with the timid shift of his hips.

A low hum came from much closer and the boy’s head snapped up. Diavolo and Risotto were standing there, their looming tall silhouettes defined by the lighting arrangement of the room. Diavolo’s long hair, drifting past his shoulders, looking like curtains of magenta pink, the electric green of his eyes shining with arousal and violence. That was him, most of the time, lead by his desire to possess and break and put back together the way he saw fit. He was wearing a black suit.

Risotto was of similar built, a little taller and bulkier, his style completely different. In ripped jeans and a black tank top, the man didn’t let his state of underdressing – if compared to Diavolo – turn into resignation, holding himself just as imposing as the other. He also emanated arousal and violence, the tempered edge of a knife being just as sharp as the man’s black and red gaze. A gleam of pearl and Doppio let out a shaky breath.

He had no idea what was happening.

He was offered a hand, slowly taken towards the canopy of four posters bed, shiny dark wood and covers the color of blood; it was velvet, he realized, when his pale frame was pushed down on that crimson softness. What a sight he was, dressed in transparent white fabric, his skin almost as fair as a ghost’s, swimming on top of that king size mattress. Diavolo smirked.

“He’ll be mine, it’s only natural.”

“Just because you’ve been around for longer? Pitiful.” Risotto remarked, not taking long to get rid of his clothing, a lot less of a ceremonialist when compared to Diavolo. Doppio knew all about him from the top of his head now. His bronze skin, the sinful contrast of his choppy short white hair falling down on his forehead, looking like vanilla and caramel mixing together. The boy whimpered when Risotto’s huge hands found their place around his hips, rubbing their bodies together with wanton.

The lace burned a little against his cock, squeezing the member until it leaked a little, staining the fabric. Risotto kissed with care, intensity, of course, but care. He liked making his partner breathless, he didn’t do sloppy. His warm flesh warmed up Doppio’s shivering skin just fine.

As Risotto started licking and sucking at his sensitive nipples, on top of his bra, the boy opened his hazel eyes, the eyes he wasn’t even aware he had closed, to stare at Diavolo. Leaning against one of the posters, hand touching his dick through his trousers. He liked playing the possessive lover, very much, so seeing him teasing himself by the sight of his most beloved possession being touched by someone else, awakened a burning fire inside of Doppio’s guts.

He raised his hand, mouthing. “Come, Boss, I want you too.”

Diavolo had a hard time denying him anything.

As the mattress shifted, four hands groped at his body, pushed his bra aside to bite his nipples. The boy yelled as the pain struck hard, Risotto’s nails scratching the inner portion of his thighs. He parted his legs even more, his neglected dick twitching inside the panties, hips thrusting into the air.

He was shifted on top of the bed, like a ragdoll, he was on all fours on top of Risotto’s body while Diavolo assaulted his neck, hands going up and down on his back. Two erections rubbing against his backside at once and the boy realized the first time that night what the two were planning. Could he take it?

“Do you think you can take it?” Diavolo whispered against his ear, almost as if prompted to do so, Risotto was rubbing their crotches together, slowly humping their dicks against each other.

“Of course he can.” Risotto gruffly said. “Wonder boy is full of surprises.”

Diavolo rolled his eyes.

His panties were ripped apart by whose hands he couldn’t tell. His body was burning, he was so sensitive with all the attention he was receiving. Thinking straight was a challenge and even coordinating movements was impossible. At some point, Doppio just gave up and decided to let the men do as they pleased, to be guided and orientated by their will, and their will alone. Diavolo removed his anal plug, discarding the thing on top of the bed. The empty feeling didn’t last for long, to which Doppio was glad at the beginning, but scared afterwards as both their dicks started pushing inside.

There was nothing that could have prepared him for that, for good. Not all the extra-large sex toys, the plugs and the lube stored inside his arse. Not only he was filled to the brim, but both cocks could move inside him in different paces. Risotto’s dick, pushing upwards, was slower but stronger, making the boy jump on the bed. Diavolo had no patience for lazyfucking, coming from behind, he guaranteed his thrusts were quicker, huffing on Doppio’s ear and holding his arms back.

“His belly is bumping.” Risotto sighed in delight, hand groping at said bump. Doppio looked down in disbelief, seeing as his belly was, in fact, distended. “You want to carry my child, baby?”

Doppio blinked, not sure he heard that properly.

“I’ve told you, it’s my children he will bear.” Diavolo huffed, changing the angle a little to push Doppio on top of Risotto’s chest, pull his hair back and fuck himself inside with force.

What was their game?

He couldn’t bear children. He was a boy! But if that thought didn’t make him feel funny all over, then he couldn’t tell what was the passionate feeling that took him by surprise. The white lingerie, bridal style, the beautiful canopy bed and his two lovers coming to take him at once.

Of course, it was his honeymoon. He did feel his belly being filled, a second earlier, could it be filled with child as well?

The new angle made the boy’s dick rub against Risotto’s chiseled stomach, basically milking the orgasm out of him. He gasped and whined and moaned as the jets of cum came out, staining both his and Risotto’s abdomen. Falling limp like a noddle, Doppio couldn’t think of anything if not the undying pleasure. The high of his orgasm seemed to last for too much time.

Too much, in fact, as both men were not done. As Diavolo realized the boy had fallen forward, he grabbed him back by the arms, pushing his body into their starting position. Risotto’s right hand grabbed his hips to help stabilize him, the other pushing his foreskin back again. Doppio jumped.

“I’m t-too sensitive, please…”

“It’s said the chances of impregnation are greater if the woman cums.” Risotto said, managing to remain stoic someway somehow despite having his hard dick leaking inside someone’s else arsehole. “You’ll cum as much as possible.”

“B-but…!” Doppio’s face scrunched up with shock as Risotto started moving his hand on top of his spent dick, bringing him back into hardness after a couple of strokes.

His body was weak, there were burns from where the panties had been ripped right where his hips were, his knees were hurting and even though he managed to get hard again, every new tug on his cock stung a little. Doppio closed his eyes, completely out of breath, imagining his belly inflating and turning rounder and rounder, heavy with child.

Whose child? There seemed to be some game or bet between the men, who could get him pregnant after all? Doppio didn’t want to choose anyone, he wanted to get pregnant with both of them, to be bred like the good wife he was.

The second orgasm came and as his body was starting to give up, he felt the wet and hot, sticky cum being released deep inside, the jets of cum painting it all white and creamy. What a glorious feeling it was, he rejoiced in it. Doppio looked down again, finding the belly bump still there, distended tummy looking cute and precious, heavy to carry all the babies he could produce.

And the cum didn’t stop, more of it was being shoot inside of him, he felt like a cannoli perfectly stuffed with cream, only that instead of custard, it was the heavenly seed of his lovers. His spent dick twitched with that thought, making the boy wince with pain. No, he thought, I can’t get aroused again or I’ll die!

Both men held his spent body, quickly leaving his insides, but stuffing the plug back where it belonged to guarantee all of that seed would be well kept inside. Like a lazy cat, Doppio turned on the bed and held his legs close to his torso, eyes blinking in tiredness as he stared at both men. If he closed his eyes, he was sure he could imagine being heavy with child, bearing the children of his lovers and bringing them so much happiness.

“Don’t… ugh, don’t compete to see who can knock me up first…!” The boy said with a yawn, bubbly giggled coming out of his lips. “I’ll have both of your babies at once, just you wait…!”  

[enigmasalad]

You’ll Be in My Heart

(Based off of @awkwardeko6 ‘s flying Virgil & Baby Patton fanart. READ IT PLEASE @awkwardeko6 !!!1) Virgil stumbled into his cave. These ‘cryptid hunters’ were becoming more and more persistent. And what’s worse is they were getting closer and closer to his home. The last guys put up a huge fight. One of them had a knife. The guy sliced and stabbed at Virgil. After ”disposing” of the greedy and desperate bastards Virgil realized he had some deep wounds. So now he was in his home. He made his way to where he kept medical kits from the people who ran in terror or accidently left them behind. As he walked bright purple blood dribbled from his leg, arms and side and dripped in puddles on the stone cave floor. “Shit. These guys knew what they were doing.” He mumbled to himself. Virgil took out a roll of bandages and began wrapping his wounds. Being a winged being meant he could heal faster and was resilient to things like “bacteria”, or that’s what humans called it. As he wrapped his arm up, his massive wings knocked something over. It fell down with a loud thud. A few seconds later a loud crying could be heard. Virgil cursed and finished up wrapping his wounds before venturing deeper in the cave. “Uwaaaaaa!” A Virgil rushed more, the loud crying got louder and louder. Finally, turning on a large battery light, he could look at the creature more carefully. Of course calling his own son a creature was..incorrect. “Hey kiddo. Did I scare you?” Virgil asked while picking up the small infant. The baby cried still as Virgil shushed and bounced it. The child in the gray kitty onesie snuggled closer, his cries slightly diminishing. “That’s right Patton. Im here. Your dad’s gonna keep you safe.” Virgil soothed.

Since Patton was still crying he had to resort to plan B. “Come stop your crying, It’ll be alright.” At the sound of Virgil singing, the infant stopped crying and looked up at his father. Virgil smiled widely as the child gently held his index finger when he gave it to the boy. He was grateful his baby wasn’t scared of his massive wings. “Just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you, from all around you. I will be here don’t you cry.” Patton gave a small baby squeal as Virgil lifted him a bit into the air. Virgil chuckled quietly at his son’s cute laugh. “For one so small, you seem so strong.” Virgil brought Patton close to him again and started walking away from the crib. “My arms will keep you safe and warm.” He could see the cave opening and the moon. He knew he had to do this, for the safety of the son he loved so much.

  “This bond between us cant be broken. I will be here, don’t you cry.” Virgil sang. Stepping out into the moonlight, Virgil looked around them. The coast was clear. He smiled down at Patton. Patton looked up at Virgil and lifted a tiny and chubby hand to the winged person’s cheek. Virgil spread his wings out and with a bit of force, he and his baby were in the air. Patton squealed with glee and wiggled his chubby legs. “Cause you’ll be in my heart. Yes you’ll be in my heart. From this day on, now and forever more.” Virgil sang as he continued his lullaby. There were a few clouds in the sky. It was a perfect night for flying. Patton cooed excitedly. The baby always liked  flying with Virgil.  

  “You’ll be in my heart, no matter what they say. Youll be in my heart, Always.” Virgil smiled once more at the sight of Patton looking at the many sparkling lights of the massive human city below. “Abagh” Patton cried out in excitement. Virgil held his son closer as he swooped down to a more residential area. Worries filled his mind. Would his son be safe? Was he doing the right thing? He could always fly back home! He could go back home with Patton and act like he had never done this. He could continue this life he and his son were living. “Why can’t they understand the way we feel? They just cant trust what they can’t explain.” Virgil sighed as his wings flapped silently. He looked down to Patton. The child’s eyes were becoming droopy. Virgil smiled and nuzzled his son’s cheek. “I know we’re different, bit deep inside us, we’re not that different at all.” Virgil sang quietly. Patton yawned and smiled sleepily. Virgil pulled the hood of his cat onesie up. He thought back on the human who was Patton’s other father. The man wasn’t greedy and he was very kind to Virgil. Virgil tried to keep this man away but he persisted. They became fast friends. They also became lovers a little too fast. The man was happy when Virgil said they would have a baby. He rushed to his truck and drove to immediately start buying things for Virgil and his future baby’s comfort. He never came back. Virgil learned from a newspaper obituary the man had died in a car crash. He was alone. Patton was his son. Human, yes, but still his son. He was all he had left in this world. Soon Virgil saw his destination and swooped down into a tree. There was a basket with a blanket and two notes in the branches. Virgil had stashed it the previous night in this tree. He put his son in the basket and tucked him in. Patton was fast asleep now, hopefully dreaming of bright moonlight, sparkling stars and dark fluffy clouds. He hoped his son would dream of such things forever, but he knew it was illogical. With a kiss to Patton’s forehead he continued his lullaby. He didn’t want Patton to wake up soon. However it was harder to continue it. Tears blocked his vision. He held the basket closely. “Don’t listen to them, cause what do they know? We need each other, to have, to hold.” Virgil sighed. “They’ll see in time, I know.” Patton let out a happy sleep sound. The boy was surely dreaming of something pleasant. His rosy cheeks make his cute freckles stand out in the night. He was truly a shooting star; the best wish Virgil had ever made. Virgil flew down from the tree with his own rock-a-bye baby and walked towards the front door of the two-story green house. “When destiny calls you, you must be strong. I may not be with you, but you got to hold on.”

  Virgil definitely felt the emotions now. Devastation filled his chest and mind as he looked down at his sleeping baby. The last remaining piece of his human lover, the person he’s protected, his biggest miracle. He was about to give it away. The anxiety of his mind screamed for him to go back home with Patton. To leave the basket and notes and put that baby back In his crib at home. He could protect him! He kept Patton safe!

“They’re see in time,  I know.” Virgil sobbed.

He knew Patton couldn’t stay with him. It wasn’t safe. These cryptid hunters were getting too close for comfort. What if they found Patton? They’d steal him! They’d send him off for “science” or something! Hell they could

murder

him!  If Virgil came home having to wrap himself up as often as he’s been having to, he can’t raise his son. It would be unfair to Patton. Its unfair to put his precious son in danger.

“You’ll be in my heart. Believe me you’ll be in my heart. Ill be there from this day, now and forever more.”

Placing his child down on the doorstep, he lowered himself on the ground and sat on his knees. He pulled a wing closer to himself.

“You’ll be in my heart, yes you’ll be in my heart. No matter what they say, you’ll be in my heart.”

Virgil pulled a dark purple scale from his wing and put it on Patton’s chest. One last memento so perhaps his son might remember him.

“Always. Just look over your shoulder.”

Virgil kissed Patton’s forehead one last time and rang the doorbell. He flew up into the air, high above his sunshine. He watched as a woman came out and looked down at the doorstep. Another woman came and they both looked down at the note Virgil wrote for them. He forced his eyes away as these humans took his son into their cozy house.

“I’ll be there always.”

[tachibubu]

Tired [Part:6]

Pairing: Jerome Valeska/Joker x Reader x Peter Parker/Spiderman.

AU included: DC/MARVEL. Possible Suicide Squad.

Prompt: You had enough with Jerome as he keeps seducing other girls in front of you so you plan to leave him and go to New York. Where you will find yourself stuck in the web of another bug who will fall in love with you.

IMPORTANT-PLEASE READ—-I’m back! With another chapter! I have been busy for a couple of days and I hope you guys will understand. My life has been a complete mess lately so I just want to make an announcement for the possibility of this story to be in HIATUS! Yeah, I’m sorry for that and I’ll probably finish the story at December probably if that happened! Thank you for supporting the story, and yes. The ending is near! Also I deeply apologize that I haven’t tagged the Chapter 5 at the previous chapters, I am really sorry!  Anyways also another apology, this chapter is rushed! Which I am disappointed of. To be honest I don’t really have a plotline in most of my stories and just went to whatever my brain is telling me to do so… So YEAH! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter even though its short as heck!

PART [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

“Where is she?”

She swabbed her tears and uttered a plea for not accomplishing her task. The man breathed out heavily, waves of cries at the other end of the device can be noted while the girl just weep as the same time promenading slowly towards the door. “You have absolutely disappointed me, you will face consequences. And of course, the promised date will not happen. Now bye, bye!” The phone displayed that the caller ended. Harley sighed and chimed in the room while staring at the girl with contempt. She wiped off her ‘fake’ tears and stood in front of her. “How does it feel that he still loves you? Oh, you must be so happy!” Harley alleged on being so happy but her voice still held venom. “But boohoo, Harley has to end your happiness! I sacrificed myself for love and what did you did?!” She jabbed her bat on your cheek harshly while you were in a state of a concoction of confusion, anger and a hell lot of headache. “Look at you, pathetic little slut!” She was not lying, you look pathetic at this moment. Your hair was all over the place, tied to each other, a mangled appearance. Unclean skin and a large bruise at the side of your face where Harley strike you with her bat with. Worse is that it has not been mended at all, Harley left you isolated at this room— while she was having a conversation with her so called puddin’— where the stench is unbearable, and she seems to notice your distressed face you’re making and it just made her snort. Your hand were cuffed as well as your legs. “I’ll be back in like, a few days maybe?” She contemplated. “Who am I kidding, maybe never!” She marooned the room quietly which is odd. Your brain was recapping the past few hours, the unfortunate events that happened to you. Harley discovered you, abused you with her bat and you were unconscious for about an hour and a half. Your conscious state was awful as well. A big migraine took over your head and left you feeling the uncontrollable pain. When you were passed out, Harley drew bruises on your skin. Drawings accompanied with your own blood was all over your body, it looks like a child was forced to doodle on you with a glass shard or a knife. You don’t know where you’re at but knowing Harley, she isn’t dumb enough to left you in an urban place and kept you in a place where almost none of the people know of. Of course, you haven’t forgotten that he is back. A person you despised. But you couldn’t acknowledge it to yourself. That you still adore him. There’s only few minutes until you lose your whole body. You thought to yourself, “So this is how I die?” To die as a disgraced being. You regretted at not finding yourself a weapon to fight off the mentally-insane girl. You regretted so many things in your life. Maybe it was the right choice? You didn’t answer yourself. “I forgot, did Peter won?… Maybe a little sleep first.” Was your last thought. - Peter was all suited up, dueling the so called Croc and Captain Boomerang at the moment. He couldn’t bare the thought of you petrified, not that he was belittling you. No not that, he knew that you were a vigorous woman. It was because he included you in his life as a big part of his own story. He loves you. He took attention to the ginger male, whom stood up finally. He couldn’t possibly be the boss right? His form doesn’t justify his hidden power. He grinned, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we seem to have technical difficulties by some bitch who didn’t do her work!” His santa-workers cut-short the combat and strolled nearer to the man. Peter and Bucky weirdly exchanged looks at each other as if asking what just happened. “Now I would like you two to search for (Y/N).” “Aye mate, ye could count on us.” Boomerang smirked while he pushed El Diablo. The short man groaned and was pissed off, but he just stayed quiet as if he was a mute person and followed the Aussie. “Now Croc, you’re a great tanker if I must say! Be the shield will ya?” Jerome nudged the creature as if he was joking, and then he averted his attention towards Deadshot. “You two, get the metal armed man. And oh! Cut it off and give it to me! It would be a great souvenir.” He chuckled at his own humor and the duo just nodded. Now the only persons that was left to fight was him and Peter. Jerome doubted that a scrawny little kid with some swing-swing abilities would conquer him, after all. He got the knowledge and background. His plan is to, of course, defeat the one who has the most practice out of the two which is of course, is the former villain and leave him with the teenager. You might be thinking if he didn’t pick Bucky then that means he is a coward and most certainly a coward. I unfortunately would deny the false theory. Defeating the weak would be simple, and if he defeated Peter first then it would be easy to corner Bucky since he would be outnumbered unless he has a good plan which in the current time, he had none. Peter was in fear for a moment, the face face Jerome is making couldn’t be mistaken. His face hinted he wanted him dead. All of them dead. Of course, his first thought would be to surprise him. He knew Jerome would think little of him and that is good, now the only thing he would focus on was a good tactic. Before he could even think, Jerome started to shoot at Peter like a wild animal. He cackled while Peter could only dodge and made few attempts to web Jerome which failed. After few minutes, Jerome ran out of bullets while Peter was dripping with sweat. “I hate it when it does that disappointing ‘tick’ sound,” Jerome complained foolishly as if he was in a comedy show, his shoulders shrugging. “Wellp,” Jerome took out a smoke bomb and waved. “Toodles!”

Jerome threw it below him and a green smoke came into view. Peter was bewildered for a moment, did that guy really left the battle? Just when he was about to conclude his mind and help the tired man from battling the two minions of the male. He heard a voice, the voice of Stark. A hologram popped up and Peter held out his hand to get a better view of it. “Peter, just in time kiddo. We are on attack at the moment but that isn’t to worry about. I just want to ask for a second,” his heartbeat increased when he heard the next sentence. “I have gotten an alarm from a microchip that I inserted on (Y/N), it has been broken and that sign is well. Not great. You don’t happen to know where she is and her condition is Parker?” He stuttered out, “I don’t.. But I’ll search for her Mr. Stark!” “Alright, I have an information that could help. I could see you aren’t really that occupied at the moment, so I trust you to gain her back. The last sightings of her was at around your school and into the sewers, and you’re near that place. Now I got work to do, so I— FUCK!” the call ended and Peter could feel someone breathing on his neck and hands were creeping on his shoulder nearing it. “I see you know my darling.” He gripped the neck of the poor boy. “Thankies for the information! I am sure to use that sooner enough, and here’s a return gift. Death!” Jerome choked Peter while lifting him up like he was a piece of trophy. Peter, in defense, struggled to get out off the tight grip. “Bye, bye– Spiderman!” He laughed.

TAGS: @hanji-zoe-surveycorps @precious-cinnamon-roll666 @i-like-it-heavy-so-i-can-panic @gabbygibbsgirl @angeli-fucking-cat 

If you want to be tagged for the next part just comment asking to be tagged! I won’t include for now a “PERMANENT TAG” since it’s quite a hassle for me. Thank you for reading!

PS. If you want to get tagged please check if your tumblr is allowed to be tagged by people, if not please turn it on. Thank you.

[firebirdsdaughter]

When in doubt…

… Hand the youngest member of the cast a real, live puppy. ~Super Sentai

[jbankai89]

Never Let Me Go [31/37]

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :PNLMG MasterpostA/N: Next update will be March 8th. Enjoy! :)

Note: The Russian words in this chapter were transcribed from Cyrillic by me, so if there's any mistakes please let me know so I can fix it.

Chapter Thirty – Almost Perfect

Yuri was ushered inside, surrounded on all sides by his family, and it felt oddly like he'd been put under a spotlight as he kicked his shoes off and was relieved of the ultrasound photos and his coffee, while he ignored everyone and made a beeline for the food. Everyone laughed at this and Yuri felt his face burn, though internally he knew that they were not laughing at him, it still felt like he was being teased.

“Don't you want your presents?” Otabek teased as he sidled up to him, and Yuri smiled weakly as his alpha came to join him at the table. He loaded his plate with cold cuts, crackers, stuffed olives, puff pastry appetizers, and finger sandwiches, along with a tall glass of apple juice, but didn't immediately answer as he stared down at the food.

“Feels weird to be the centre of attention like this,” he mumbled softly, just loud enough for Otabek to hear, and he bowed forward to offer Yuri's cherry-red cheek a kiss.

“Humour them, they're really excited,” Otabek said gently, “it's just this once.”

“You owe me for this,” Yuri muttered, though his mouth was quirked into a small half-smile as he said it.

Now with a platter of food in his hands, Yuri was steered back to the living room, where the coffee table had been buried in a mountain of gifts, and the triplets had been quartered off in a large playpen with a number of toys to keep them occupied. Everyone was passing around the ultrasound photos, cooing at the black and white images or crying over them—the latter mostly being Yuuri, who seemed quite sensitive these days.

Maybe he's pregnant again, Yuri mused with a faint smirk as he sat down with Otabek at his side. Seeing how things are now between him and Viktor it's not impossible, but he did tell me that he didn't want any more kids...maybe he's changed his mind or something.

“Presents!” Minami cried suddenly, drawing Yuri out of his thoughts and nearly making him choke on the garlic-stuffed green olive in his mouth. “Is it present time?”

“Come on, Yuri,” Viktor added with a wide, heart-shaped smile, “before Minami explodes.”

“Okay, fine,” Yuri replied with an exaggerated groan, though admittedly, he wasn't minding the idea of presents too much, and smiled sheepishly as the first huge parcel was dumped into his lap.

Yuri learnt two things very quickly as he unwrapped over two dozen gifts from everyone—first, they needed to hide the scotch tape from Viktor at every single holiday going forward. His fingers ached from how much tape the stupid alpha had used to seal the gifts from himself and Yuuri, and eventually Otabek had simply gotten him an exacto knife to open the gifts with.

Second, they were all terrible sentimentalists, and Yuri could not decide who was the worst—Yuuri, who gave him a huge multi-photo frame bearing pictures of everyone, or his grandfather, who produced an old cat plush toy that Yuri had not seen in nearly fifteen years.

“Koshechka...” Yuri said, his bottom lip quivering a little as he stroked the fuzzy orange and black-striped toy. “I had no idea you kept it.”

“I'd never give away something so precious, Yuratchka,” his grandfather said with a small smile. “For you, or your mladyenyets.”

Yuri hugged the plush cat to his chest and offered his grandfather a watery smile, just as another parcel was dropped into his lap.

Along with the more sentimental gifts, Yuri got practical ones, too—onesies, little baby running shoes, baby books, more plush animals, a mobile with little cats and bears on it, a crib, changing table, baby blanket, little baby leather jacket (and matching ones for Yuri and Otabek), and dozens of other things they'd need for when their child was born.

One thing Yuri could not help but notice, despite his attempts to not let it bother him, was that though he'd been spoiled with gifts from everyone, none of the packages had come from Otabek himself.

The final gift was for Yuri, and not the baby, and it was a bracelet of Buddhist prayer beads from Phichit. They were a deep cranberry colour, and Yuri felt a strange sense of peace as he slipped them on, thanking the Thai alpha with a weak smile while Otabek got up with a small stretch.

“Don't move, Yura,” he commanded with a small smile, “I just need to go and get your present. It's upstairs.”

“You got me something?” Yuri blurted out, then felt himself go red at how that sounded. Otabek, in contrast, merely laughed, and leant back in to kiss him once.

“Did you think I wouldn't?” he asked, and Yuri felt his embarrassment spike a little.

“No—yes—maybe? I don't know!”

The others chortled at Yuri's flustered response, while Otabek merely offered Yuri a small half-smile as he turned around and headed for the stairs.

Around him, the others bloomed into conversation, all the while they kept shooting Yuri with excited, knowing glances. Yuri narrowed his eyes at them; what were they up to now?

Yuri hardly had time to contemplate it before he heard Otabek call from the top of the stairs, “close your eyes, Yura, and don't open them again until I tell you to!”

Yuri obeyed, and at the same moment almost laughed aloud. It was amazing, really, how he had gone from blindly hating Otabek to this. Past Yuri would have never in a million years obeyed an alpha—especially Otabek—but now...

Now he's the most important person in my life, and I love him, Yuri thought without hesitation, and he smiled to himself as a flutter of movement in his stomach made his smile widen.

Well, second most important.

Otabek thumped down the stairs, and as his footsteps died under the plush carpet in the living room, Yuri heard a chorus of excited cries from everyone around him, and his eyelids twitched, though he managed to keep them closed.

“Okay, baby,” Otabek said softly, “open your eyes.”

Yuri did, and his mouth dropped open.

“Mew,” said the little ragdoll kitten held aloft in Otabek's arms.

Its little face was nearly obscured by the huge red bow around its neck, and underneath it Yuri spotted a black collar studded with false diamonds in the shape of little paws. The kitten was a beige-brown, with sooty paws, ears, and face, and it was the most precious thing that Yuri had ever seen.

“For me?” Yuri asked, and Otabek answered by placing the kitten in Yuri's lap. Yuri sniffled as he reached out for the tiny thing, and it purred as it licked and nuzzled at Yuri's fingers.

“For you,” Otabek replied with a small smile, and reached out to remove the enormous bow. Yuri swatted his hand away and did it himself, and the little kitten shook itself immediately after Yuri took it off, as though relieved to get rid of the bow.

“I...I don't know what to say,” Yuri said, his voice cracking a little as he pet the tiny thing. He'd always wanted a cat, and it was hard to believe that one was now sitting on his knees, and it was his.

“Thank you is probably a good start,” Otabek teased, one arm moving to wrap around Yuri's waist while he leant in to kiss his cheek, and sat back down at his side. “Do you like her?”

“Her,” Yuri echoed as he scooped the kitten up and leant in close, and she responded by licking the tip of the omega's nose. “God, Beka, she's fucking adorable.”

A chorus of laughs followed Yuri's statement, while Makkachin whined trotted over, and tried to snuffle at the kitten. Yuri scowled, moving to lift the kitten out of reach, but before he had a chance to, she hissed and took a swipe at the dog's nose.

Yuri snorted when the dog responded with a number of yelping, frightened cries, and he rushed over to Viktor and tucked himself, trembling, under the alpha's legs.

“Aww, poor Makkachin,” Viktor said in between chuckles as he reached down to pat the dog's head. “Did the little koshechka scare you?”

Makkachin answered with another whine, and Yuri snorted as Viktor and Yuuri both babied the large, trembling dog.

“What do you want to name her?” Otabek asked, drawing Yuri's attention back to the kitten in his hands, while he set her back down on his lap. She responded by jumping up carefully onto his stomach, and curled up contentedly. Yuri smiled, watching as Otabek reached down to stroke her gently, and the kitten responded by purring softly.

“I don't know yet,” Yuri replied, smiling idly as he watched his alpha pet the kitten. “I want to make sure it's a good name though—something cool.”

“Something cool?” Otabek asked with a warm chuckle, “not something cute, like Soots, or Mittens, or Waffles?”

“You are officially banned from naming our kid,” Yuri retorted, and Otabek let out a loud snort of laughter. “No, I want a cool name for this cat. Like...like...oh, I know. Puma-Tiger-Scorpion.”

“You're naming your cat what?” Phichit cut in with a small laugh, and though the Thai alpha probably hadn't meant it as an insult, Yuri glared at him anyway.

“Yeah. Or Potya, for short,” Yuri replied coldly. “Got a problem with that?”

“What? No!” Phichit sputtered, his eyes widening a little at the omega. “I just...it's a bit weird.”

“It is not weird, it's cool. The most badass kitten in the universe,” Yuri said stubbornly, and crossed his arms. The move jostled the kitten on his belly, but she didn't move from her spot while Yuri continued to glare at Phichit.

Phichit blinked at Yuri, his expression blank, then in a motion of surrender he lifted his hands and turned to Minami, saying, “we'll get a hamster, and we'll name it—”

“—Cat Food,” Yuri cut in, and Otabek choked on his laughter, while Phichit and Minami offered him a halfhearted glare.

“I think I like Fluffy or Hammy better than Cat Food,” Minami said thoughtfully as he turned back to Phichit, and the alpha grinned as he took one of Minami's hands.

“Or Harvey the Wonder Hamster.”

“Yes, I love it!” Minami squealed, and threw himself at Phichit in a hug.

Yuri leant against Otabek, and he immediately wrapped an arm around the omega's shoulders.

“Yuri?” he prompted, “you okay?”

“We were never that barfingly adorable...were we?” Yuri asked, and Otabek snorted.

“I think we have our moments, we're just not as...enthusiastic as them, I guess,” Otabek replied while he reached out to idly stroke the sleeping kitten.

“Good,” Yuri replied, and turned to offer Otabek a quick kiss. “Thank you for the kitten, Beka, she's too adorable for words.”

“I'm glad you like her,” Otabek chuckled, and kissed Yuri again.

The party progressed, with Yuri never setting Potya down (nor Potya wanting to be put down, and in fact sat on Yuri's shoulder like a fluffy little parrot) and he offered her bits of smoked salmon while he worked on a miniature mountain of mini quiche and sausages wrapped in pastry.

“Hungry?” Otabek teased when he brought Yuri another glass of apple juice, and Yuri narrowed his eyes at him, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and thus was unable to answer.

“It's not me, it's your kid,” Yuri finally said after he accepted the drink and chased down the food. “I'm eating for two, remember?”

“I remember,” Otabek confirmed as he sat next to him and placed a hand on Yuri's belly. “I'm so excited for us, just a few more weeks...”

“Next time, we'll do better,” Yuri said, his voice softening a little so that the others wouldn't overhear them. “You'll be there for the whole thing.”

“Yura, I'm not upset about how this all turned out...not anymore,” Otabek explained as he leant in to kiss Yuri's temple. “You did what you had to do, and it kept you from being badly hurt. I can't fault you for wanting to protect yourself; you've had a hard life, and I didn't exactly make it any easier at first, so you're used to using what you have to survive, and that's okay.”

“Don't you ever get tired of being so perfect?” Yuri asked, and Otabek chuckled warmly.

“I think if I was perfect, I would have worked out faster that the way I was treating you in the beginning was totally awful,” Otabek remarked, “I think about it a lot, you know, how strong you are, and how shitty I was, and how if you were anyone else I would have royally fucked you up—”

“—language, Otabek!” Viktor interrupted, “there are children present!”

“Sorry, Yuuri,” Yuri called, and Otabek snorted.

“Hey!”

Otabek chuckled again as he turned back to Yuri, and caught the blond's lips in a warm, quick kiss. He opened his mouth to speak, but Yuri got there first.

“I don't want to talk about how our relationship started,” Yuri said, “or how shitty you were, or any of that. You smartened up, you got better, and now things are just...amazing. We have a family, a real family of people who care about us, a baby on the way, and a place where we are safe. I don't want to talk about our bad pasts, I just want to focus on the future.”

“How did I get so lucky to find an omega like you?” Otabek asked as he nuzzled the side of Yuri's throat gently, making him giggle.

“You picked me out of line, probably 'cause I'm pretty,” Yuri teased, and Otabek snorted, though there was sadness in his expression too.

“I'll make up for all that, I promise,” Otabek murmured, and moved in to kiss him again.

“You can start by getting me something else to eat,” Yuri teased, and held up his empty paper plate. Potya mewed from his shoulder as though in agreement, and the alpha laughed as he nodded and accepted the empty plate, and headed dutifully for the table.

The food was consumed, Phichit and Yuuri took too many photos of Yuri cutting the barfingly adorable cake covered in teddy bears and candy balloons, and as far as Yuri was concerned, it really was a perfect day.

Until Minami—albeit unintentionally—changed it from perfect to almost perfect.

It was evening, maybe six or six-thirty, and Yuuri was transporting the girls to bed while the alphas wrapped up the leftover food and put it away. Yuri felt a little awkward about being unable to really help, but then Minami, with a cheery expression plastered across his face, said it.

“Well, Mama, let's get all this stuff upstairs!” he chirped happily, and immediately Yuri's world was consumed in black.

~*~

“Let us see if Mama has learned his lesson. Omega, who are you?”

“No one,” Yuri answered immediately...

~*~

“All enriched with everything the alpha's gift needs,” the trainer said, filling the silence as he caressed Yuri's stomach with terrifyingly gentle touches, and Yuri struggled to keep from lurching away from the contact. “We mustn't hurt the baby. Remember, Omega, that is all anyone cares about. The alpha gave you a great gift, and your importance remains only as long as you carry that inside you. Once the child is born, we do not care about your body—it is forfeit, and the real training will begin...”

~*~

Blinding white impeded Yuri's vision through the horrible memories, and he let out a short cry. Had everything with Beka and the others been a hallucination? Was he back with the trainer?

“No, no...” Yuri said tearfully, and a warm hand ghosted over his. He tried to jerk away, but his movements were slow and sluggish. “No, please..”

“Yura...Yura, baby, it's all right, you're safe, they're not here...” a familiar voice said, and Yuri whimpered again, shaking his head. This torture was too real. He couldn't open his eyes and not see Beka, he wanted to hold on the hallucination they'd created just a little longer. “Yuri, please, you need to calm down or they'll kick me out...come on, sweetheart, open your eyes for me, please?”

“No...not real...Beka, Beka...” Yuri whimpered, a tear leaking from his shut eyes, and a soft thumb immediately brushed it away.

That small action made Yuri go still—his trainer had never bothered to wipe his tears before.

Haltingly, Yuri cracked his eyes open.

Blurry at first, slowly his vision sharpened, and the most curious scene came to his eyes.

Otabek sat there, smiling warmly in a hospital chair, in a hospital room. Why was Otabek in a hospital?

Yuri blinked, and looked down at himself.

Yuri was lying in bed, a collection of tubes were taped to the back of his left hand, pumping something into his system. He was in a pale green hospital gown, and a thin blanket had been pulled up and over his baby bump, with a knitted throw blanket that he recognized from home draped over him as well.

“What...” Yuri shook his head as he began to panic, like a fearsome beast crawling up his throat, he suddenly wanted to scream. Yuri shook his head again, and his head spun. “What...what happened? Why am I here?”

“You went into early labour,” Otabek said with a small frown, “from a severe panic attack and episode of disassociation. They stopped it with drugs, and the nurse gave me an earful about the complications of a birth too early for an omega. She suggested we go over triggers with you to keep this from happening again, and to get you into therapy. She wouldn't listen when I tried to explain that your English isn't good enough for that yet. I think she thought it was me who was abusing you and caused all this...Oh, and she said you're bed-bound for the rest of your pregnancy.”

Yuri blinked. He stared at Otabek, who looked nervous and uneasy, like he'd eaten a bad clam.

“What does that mean?” Yuri asked, “bed-bound...like I can't leave bed at all?”

“You're only allowed up for bathroom breaks. The doctor and nurse any extra stress—”

“—so get this kid out of me now!” Yuri interrupted angrily, “I can't just...just sit here for another month!”

“You won't, Yura—”

“—you just said that I wasn't allowed to get out of bed for a month!”

“—yes, but—”

“—and now you're saying I can, so stop saying opposite things and be fucking clear!”

“Yura, I'm trying, but—”

“—no you're not trying!” Yuri choked as tears came to his eyes, “I just had a fucking panic attack so bad I almost popped our kid out during a blackout, and now you're not being very helpful at all—!”

“Yuri!” Otabek shouted as he leapt to his feet.

“Don't yell at me!”

“I'm not yelling!” Otabek cried while he lifted a frustrated hand to his hair, and he began to pace. “You're not listening! You need to calm down, or you might hurt yourself, or the baby.”

At the threat that his anxiety might hurt his unborn child, Yuri's jaw snapped shut. He was sniffling a little and glaring at Otabek, who was still pacing. Yuri took a few slow breaths, but they didn't exactly make him feel any better. When he at least appeared to be calm, Otabek sat down next to him again, and took his hand.

“We aren't leaving you here for the rest of your term, Yura, we're taking you home, but you need to stay in bed. We can bring our bed down to the living room so you won't feel left out of everything, or something, and a lot of beta women and omegas have to do this at the end of their pregnancies—I heard Yuuri did, too.”

Yuri flopped back against his pillows with a soft groan. “This was not how I expected the end of today to go,” he mumbled miserably, but relaxed a little when he felt Otabek offer his hand a gentle squeeze.

“It'll be okay, Yuri,” Otabek murmured consolingly, “just you wait and see.”

Yuri huffed and nodded, but despite Otabek's reassurances, he seriously doubted it.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

NLMG Masterpost

[venfx]

Oh boy, I got another idea for a prompt, something I was discussing in the Discord: After the day Phil and Rita spent together and her waking him up, he's steadily getting better and better. But it's not totally linear. Though being good to people is making him feel good, it feels more like a distraction from the larger aching emptiness still inside him. Even as he finds new ways to fill his time, he still sometimes longs for an end in sight. One morning, in a moment of weakness, he makes (1/2)

one more attempt. However, he doesn’t actually die this time and wakes up in a hospital bed. For once, it hits him how real his body and what he’s been doing to it truly is. He’s pissed at himself for falling back into this and doubts if he’ll ever be able to just look on the bright side like Rita said to. To his surprise, before the day resets, his mom shows up at the hospital to see him, having urgently booked a flight over there. She’s pretty angry and scared and upset and gives him some harsh words, and she also loves him so, so much. They talk and she stays with him until it’s 6AM again.

why do you make me hurt him so. anyways this was a doozy but also weirdly fun to write mostly because i just got my EMT certification and am therefore allowed to throw in useless medical jargon

(again sorry mrs. connors you don’t deserve this)

send me fic prompts here!

CW for suicide mention/attempt

It’s impossible to put into words just how much Phil despises the inventor of the alarm clock.

“That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He slams his hand down onto the snooze button.

He’s never been a morning person.

Lately, his days look a little like this: sit up, stretch. Answer the phone on the first ring. Make sure to get the girl’s name- it’s Lisa- and wish her a good morning before heading out the door. Compliment Jonathan’s new sneakers, fix the coffee pot, meet up with Ned to chat about his family.

Then, get coffee for the crew and Rita, do the broadcast, change a flat tire, rescue a cat. Practice the piano, charm his way into staying a few extra hours.

Try to save the old man.

Fail to save the old man.

Drive Ralph and Gus back from the bar.

Wake up, do it all over again.

And, like, okay, it’s not all bad.  

Phil’s a new man, with a new lease on life and a steadily improving rendition of Hot Cross Buns to prove it. The more time he spends here actually living, the more he grows to love each and every resident of Punxsutawney.

He has friends here, as bizarre as that sounds.

Even if those friends don’t, y'know, remember him.-Here’s the thing: sometimes, his life feels like the weird second act of some two-bit play. The fact that the curtain will never fall is irrelevant.

Helping people of this small, quiet town should be enough. 

It is enough.

In terms of eternity, he’s won the fucking jackpot.-Still, it goes without saying that some days are easier than others.

“That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He’s getting better.

He is.

It’s just, well. Sometimes.

Sometimes, he isn’t.

Here’s another thing: Phil spends the night before his seventeenth birthday locked in his parents’ bathroom with a bottle of his mom’s sleeping pills and a flask of gas station tequila he’d bribed off of his sister’s boyfriend a month earlier. 

He’s sixteen years, three hundred sixty four days, twenty two hours, and seventeen minutes old. 

People keep telling him that it’s going to get better, that he’ll be okay, that his problems are small and that everyone feels like this every once in a while. 

Maybe they’re right, but Phil’s not stupid, either- he knows that people aren’t supposed to be this empty, knows that there’s something in him that’s always going to be small and broken and wrong.

He’s just so fucking tired.

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

Twenty three years and a thousand endless days later, he barely thinks twice before swallowing the whole damn bottle.

Phil wakes up.

He wakes up.

He’s not in the bed and breakfast.

For one panicked moment, he thinks maybe-

He jack-knifes up, yanks the cannula out of his nose. “Excuse me!”

There’s a nurse passing by his room. She turns, looks at him with a special cocktail of muted pity and vague disgust, which Phil very politely ignores because he is a nice fucking person now, thank you very much.

“Sorry, but um,” he rasps, voice hoarse. It sort of tastes like something crawled into the back of his throat and died. “What’s today’s date?“ 

“February 2nd, dear. I’ll go tell the doctor that you’re up.”

February 2nd.

Right.

He wakes up again to a woman in a white coat standing at the foot of his bed, reading off of a clipboard. 

“Phil Connors, 40, found unresponsive underneath a bridge near Patsy’s Park. Presented with mild hypothermia, bradycardia, hypotension, and significant respiratory depression as a result of an alcohol potentiated benzodiazepine overdose." 

Phil just wants to go back to sleep.

“ER administered 0.8mg of Flumazenil intravenously upon admission and performed a gastric lavage shortly after. Vitals have been stable since seven this evening.”

“Huh,” he mutters. “Thought it’d been longer than that." 

His doctor sighs, like she’s unimpressed or something, which strikes him as kind of rude.

Phil almost died.

God.

"Mr. Connors, you went outside half naked in the middle of snowstorm to chase 220 mg of clonazepam- that’s fifty five pills, by the way- with a bottle of raspberry vodka-”

“It was grape, actually-”

“Regardless,” she says and, great, her voice is all gentle now, like being nice is going to change anything. “I don’t think we need to pretend that this was accidental.”

“Shit, what gave it away?" 

"Mr. Connors, was this your first attempt?”

And Phil-

Phil thinks of the toaster.

He thinks of suffocating, of bleeding out, of freezing to death, of walking into traffic, eyes shut, over and over and over again. He remembers the rope and the car battery and the fucking clock tower.

He thinks of the screwdriver- and, okay, that had been a little excessive, but whatever.

He feels sick.

"Yeah,” he says, slumping back against the pillows. “Yeah. First time.”

They keep him on mandatory 72 hour watch.

Not that it really matters, but.

Phil hates hospitals.

The phone rings when Phil’s on his seventh episode of Law and Order: SVU. He’s eaten, like, four things of green Jello and an entire bag of ice chips. 

On screen, Ice-T is arresting a pedophile with a clown fetish.

He’s pretty sure his nurse is avoiding him.

This kind of feels like a new low.

“Mr. Connors? You have a visitor. Should I send her up?”

Phil absolutely does not want to see Rita right now, but also feels like he owes her for blowing off the broadcast and then literally almost dying. 

Plus, he’s been trying to be less of an ass lately.

Really.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he says with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Phil Connors, what the fuck.”

That’s not Rita.

He’s going to kill Rita.

“Mom? Jesus, who called you?”

“Is that how you greet me? We haven’t spoken in six months, and all I get is a Jesus-who-called-you?”

Joanne Connors is sixty four years old and 5'2”. 

She carries herself the way some people carry machine guns. 

“So, I’m in a hospital bed, don’t know if you noticed-"

"I noticed that you look like shit,” she says, scowling at the IV in Phil’s arm like it’s done something to  personally offend her. “So, I’ll reiterate: what the fuck.”

Phil’s been nursing a low level migraine since he woke up and the shrillness of his mother’s voice adds a special new dimension to this whole experience.

“Thanks, mom,” he says with a sigh. “Did you really fly all the way out here from Cleveland?”

“No, I was in the area,” she says bitingly. “Of course I flew out here. Your producer called-”

“Associate producer, actually-” he says, just because he’s feeling a little bitter.

“-saying that you were in the hospital, that it looked bad, that they found these pills-”

“I’m fine, oh my god-”

“-so, yes, I did fly out here in the middle of a goddamn blizzard. That flight cost me five hundred dollars, by the way-”

“I never asked you to-”

“-and that doctor you have is a real piece of work-”

“Mom! You’re yelling." 

She stops abruptly, looking stricken. 

With horror, Phil realizes that her eyes are welling up. 

He hates seeing his mom cry.

"You stupid, stupid boy,” she whispers. “You selfish, thoughtless child. What were you thinking?”

Phil can’t remember the last time his mother hugged him, but when she does, it feels like china, like glass, like something breakable and precious all at once.  

“Mom, I-”

He doesn’t know what he wants to say. 

There’s something ugly in his chest, some horrible emotion that makes his throat tight and his eyes burn. He can feel his mother’s tears seeping into the flimsy fabric of his hospital gown.

Phil grips her back like he’s drowning.

Eventually she pulls away, dabs at her eyes with a trembling hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “Phil, I’m so sorry.”

“Um. Don’t be. This isn’t your fault,” he says thickly, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I just- uh. It’s been a long day.”

She chuckles weakly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Phil doesn’t want to talk about it, and for once, she doesn’t push.

They just sit there instead, watching crappy crime procedurals and eating Jello. She tells him blatantly untrue stories about his childhood and pretends to be interested when he delivers a ten minute lecture on introductory quantum mechanics (his newest research project) and a half hour summary of the first four seasons of Game of Thrones (that he only watched for Rita).

At one point, she leans over to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you so much, Phil. So much.”

He closes his eyes.

Here’s a final thing: the day always resets in the time it takes him to blink. 

In that brief moment or space between seeing and not-seeing, a cosmic rubber band yanks him backwards, pulls him taut through time. He knows it’s happening before it happens, even though he’s never actually seen the clock hit six.

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He slams a hand on the alarm.

It’s a new day.

[deathbyvalentine]

Prompt Collection

Crash Landing an Airship

In hindsight, knocking out the pilot had been a bad move. A worse move had been locking the co-pilot in a cupboard. Preplanning had never quite been Alexi’s strong point. Unfortunately, neither had piloting. 

“Right.” They murmured to themselves, looking at the dizzying array of dials, buttons and levers, and failing to see a manual anywhere. “Flying. Piece of cake. Birds can do it. Why shouldn’t I?”  Cautiously, he pressed the lime-green button, wincing as a grinding sound surfaced from somewhere deep below the decks. A needle swung wildly as a slight but certain smell of burning appeared. Was it just them, or was the ground getting closer?

My Shelter, My Prison, My Home.

Rose spent a lot of time gazing out of windows. Whenever she tired of sewing, or piano playing, or reading in front of the fire, she drifted to the window, where she could sit for hours. It was a pretty, if unremarkable view. The manor was way off the main road, and surrounded simply by gardens, forest, or lawns. You couldn’t even see the boundary fence, and even if you could, you would simply see the rolling, almost purple moors. Rose had never stepped foot on those moors. She had never even stepped foot on one of the lawns. She had never been beyond the walls of this house.

Not that she wanted to. Her mother had told her about the dangers that lay beyond. Freezing wind and rain. Animals with sharp teeth. People who were nothing more than plague carriers. No, she was already sick, and far too fragile to deal with the cruelty of the world. 

But still, she looked. She especially liked looking out on rainy nights, where the wind drove downpours against the glass until she could barely hear herself think. Where the fire flickered and jumped in its grate, casting patterns on the walls. And where it was hard to make out anything but her own pale face gazing back at her in the window. 

It was on a night like this, something extraordinary happened. Jane Eyre was lying forgotten on her lap, her hand holding her place. She looked spectre-like, framed in the window-seat, in nothing but her nightgown, red curls streaming down her back as if drowned. She didn’t move from her vigil, even as servants restoked the fire and whisked away untouched tea. 

There was a light in the forest. She had thought it was a reflection at first, but nothing within the room could produce that white light. It glimmered and jumped, occasionally blocked by the tree trunks, but never disappearing entirely. She was transfixed, no, more than that. It was a longing she felt, deep within her fragile bones, as if something was calling to her.  For the first time in her short life, she wished for more. It was this wish that lead her to slip down to the servant’s quarters, lifting the heavy iron key off it’s hook to unlock the backdoor. She did not put on shoes, she did not find a jacket. She stepped into the driving rain, marvelling at the feeling of cold water on her virgin skin. Even discomfort can feel like a miracle if it’s new.  She made her way across the lawn, avoiding the bright spots of light cast by the watching house, dashing, causing splatters of mud to paint her legs. And still, that light, calling. Though it turned out not to be a light at all, but rather a creature who shone like the moon, but not like the sun. He leaned against the tree, as if he had been waiting for her there always. His teeth were sharp as he smiled, and his eyes were black. And in his hand, he held a fruit with red skin. 

He offered it, casually, the promise of one prison for another. She knew she should never eat fae fruit, to ignore all tricks or pleas. But this was not a trick, it was an offer, and she may be naive, but she was no fool. She took it from him, and bit deeply, letting the sweet juice drip down her chin with the rain. 

Slayers: My Last Morning In Hospital

The light seemed different, somehow. Softer, gentler. He marvelled at it, as well as the beauty of the dust motes dancing gently. He was a cliche, and he didn’t care. He thought he would never seen another morning again.  His bloods had came back normal. As had his MRIs and CAT scans. As had every test they had thought to check. Even when he wasn’t actively dying, he always had had some deficiency or irregularity. Now, well, he was the epitome of health. He didn’t even need glasses anymore. They were calling it a miracle. He didn’t disagree. Nobody had known who the young doctor was. And when he mentioned the snake, they just murmured things about hallucinations and fever dreams. He could still feel the snake bite, even if the marks had healed. He could still picture the handsome face, even if he’d only gazed at it for a moment. He knew it was real. It seemed realer than the last few years had been. Perhaps the only real thing he had ever experienced. He dressed himself, ignoring the fussing of his father. The scars on his skin were gone too, from countless surgeries. They all seemed to chose to ignore this as doctors signed off on his paperwork, and shook his hand, discharging him. Nobody believed it would be the last time. But there was an air of hope there had never been before, the vain ambition that perhaps magic really did exist, and good things did happen to good people. He walked unsupported to the car, and the cold air on his skin had never felt better.  This felt a little like freedom. Like a weight had been lifted. Gratitude flowed through him like honey, sweetening and tinting everything he thought of or looked upon.

His mind though, kept circling back to the feeling of a hand on his, and a smile so warm it could light up a room...

Sybil 

Paris was a distraction at least. Her grief for her father was still like a fresh wound, and yes, she had some degree of homesickness, but when you had a city like Paris at your feet, you would be foolish to refuse it.  There was always something to do. Always a bar or cafe opening, or a new theatre production. And the strangers here were so kind, a mile away from the standoffishness of the Midwestern Americans she had grown up amongst. Always ready with a kind word, always pouring her another drink, buying her the prettiest things. It was near overwhelming at times.

And yet, she found herself often discontented with no explanation why. Perhaps it was the single bad review taking root in her mind, polluting all it came across. But she still felt moments of joy with her new friends. Moments of profound contentness that robbed her of breath. 

Sybil wondered if perhaps she did not do very well on her own. She relied on her sister an inordinate amount throughout their childhood, and she wasn’t sure if she knew what it was like to stand on her own two feet. Whenever she was alone in the morning light, that was when the darkness set in. 

Luckily, she had so many good friends that seemed to not mind taking care of her a jot. How lucky she was.

Susurration

The trees were not silent. They chattered and whispered about the little, insignificant thing creeping through between them, footsteps barely making a sound. In the distance, a campfire flickered, and occasionally snatches of laughter and song made it this far into the trees, making the small thing pause. “What do you think she’s doing?” Elm whispered, glancing up at Oak as the thing used one of it’s branches to hide behind. One of it’s branches drooped considerably since lightning had struck it several years back.  “Hm. That thing she’s carrying is called a knife.” Oak was wise. Oak had been a child at the dawn of this forest, and knew almost everything about what came through it. It could even tell humans apart, which was rare.  “What does it do?” “It kills, dear child. She must be hunting.” Oak watched where her gaze wandered. “Hunting those others I suspect.” Elm rustled, causing the thing to look up, and frown, blonde hair blowing over her eyes. Her eyes were the colour of the spring grass, and almost pretty. “Do humans usually hunt other humans?” Oak thought, and thought. And remembered. “She passed by a few weeks hence. Her and another, one with a beard. And other, one they both sat on. That had four legs. A horse I believe. And the other humans struck them, and took their horse, and their bags. And struck the bearded one so his sap fed the earth below him. We were very grateful, though she made the most upsetting noises.”  “Ah.” Elm watched as the small thing became even smaller, shifting into the darkness of the forest, and getting closer to the fire. “Will the earth be fed again tonight?” “I suspect so. Though how much, who knows?” The trees sighed. 

The Neverland Lagoons

Peter’s favourite part of Neverland changed by the hour, if not the second, but it frequently was the Neverland Lagoons. It was always sunny here, the light reflecting and bouncing off the ripping water. There were always flowers growing from the gaps in the rocks. There was just enough of a breeze to cool skin hot and bothered after playtime, and it was just warm enough that wet clothes would dry quickly. Fairies dashed about the place, trying not to get their little wings wet in the water, as drying them out always made them cross. And then the were the mermaids themselves. Often about a dozen, sometimes less, sometimes more, in every shape, size, and colour. Their tails glittered like precious jewels in as many shades. Peter adored them, and they adored him, flirting and playing at every opportunity. They bore the other Lost Boys well enough, but he was their favourite, much to his pride.

And he had his favourites amongst them, when he remembered to. One of the ones that endured was, of course, Ariel. He had been fascinated by her red hair, vibrant and clashing against the clear blue of the water. She had let him brush it, only wincing a little when he tugged at the knots.  She was fascinated by objects humans had that mermaids didn’t. He brought her hats and shoes, studying her face, looking for the delight that made her more radiant than the sun. She was beautiful of course, as most mermaids were, but she was also nice, which most mermaids weren’t.

She wasn’t quite from around here, he knew. Sometimes that was the way it went. Bits came through, if he let them, though of course very little could get into Neverland without his say so. He was sad, when she left, for as long as he remembered her. He hoped whatever story she was from deserved her. 

Call Sign Nisus The camp fire was blazing fiercely, spitting sparks into the sky and crackling as if to remind them all it was here. The company were sprawled around it, gazing upwards at the sparkling stars, sharing cigarettes, and talking absolute shit, as most of their downtime was spent doing. Nisus had somehow managed to acquire a bottle of something that smelt of cloves, and it was already half empty. He was very almost drunk, again, not an unusual development when he had been given clearance. He was leaning heavily against his partner, though his feet were planted in a healer’s lap. He was happy, as he often was. His mouth was made for smiling, his voice made for laughter. He was rarely serious, a blessing and a curse when fate had put a gun in his hand.

He was in his element, surrounded by those he loved, and telling stories. Nobody could ever tell which bits of his stories were real, if any, and which were fake. He would never admit to lying, cheerfully being shameless with reckless abandon. Despite barely ever having seen a real war, he seemed to have more heroics than the rest of the company put together, somehow, better shooting skills, faster reflexes. Odd that.  His mentor pushed his head playfully as he teased her, fondness dripping from every word. They made a right pair, her no-nonsense attitude bouncing off his, well, nonsense near constantly. They fit together somehow though, like part of a jigsaw, like anchor and ship, like weapon and sheath. 

As soon as I saw the exhibit, I knew I'd owned these things before.

The museum was cool and quiet, the floors shining marble. The hoards of children had faded away with the hours of the school-day, and now, an hour before closing, the rooms had the feel of a sanctuary. People moved from room to room like ghosts, leaving no trace of themselves behind, and only the softest murmuring echoes.

They were two such people, Albie with his golden hair falling about his shoulders, the evening sun sometimes catching it and giving it the appearance of flame, Brennon with his dark dark eyes. Their arms were linked, though they sometimes fell into holding hands. They whispered to each other. Brennon preferred art galleries to museums, but it had been Albie’s turn to pick their date venue. Albie had a fascination for all things ancient.

They were in the Greek section when it happened, though to the outside observer it looked like nothing happened at all. Albie stopped in front of a case, and with a shaking hand, placed his palm against the glass. “Albie?” Brennon peered up at his taller lover. “Is something wrong?” “These things are mine.” Albie’s voice shook with the effort of keeping it controlled, low. Inside the case was a cloak pin, a handful of game counters, and a water vessel. The small white card said these things had been buried with a warrior who had died in some ancient and forgotten battle. 

“What are you talking about?” “No. Not all mine.” He removed his hand from the glass, and his eyes were a million miles away. “The cloak pin was his.”

“Who’s?” 

He said it so bluntly, like it meant nothing at all, like his words couldn’t hope to hurt. “My eromenos.” His voice curled differently around that word, but somehow it had never sounded more like him.  They left the museum in silence.  ****************************** Albie did not sleep well that night, in their small and comfortable flat. They had barely spoken that night, curled up in front of the TV, Brennon sneaking glances at his lover. His eyes were often unfocused, his elegant fingers turning a pen between them over and over again. And now, in bed, he was tossing this way and that, his skin glistening with sweat. Brennon dare not wake him up, from cowardice or care. He woke naturally after countless hours, and spoke of dust and blood and the ever beating sun. Brennon could do nothing but hold him.

He looked up signs of psychosis online, of delusions and hallucinations, but none of them fit. Albie only talked about it when the moment struck him, and often seemed frustrated that he couldn’t provide more details. And then there was the museum visits. He went back every week, and sat in front of the case, often but not always refusing Brennon’s company. Smaller details appeared, wine splattered on the doorway, small pieces of food left by windows, worry beads appearing in jewellery boxes. Albie was becoming somebody he did not recognise, but was somehow still not unlike himself. ***************************************** He dared ask the question one night, when they were laying in bed, side by side, a soft breeze being invited in from the open window, bringing in distant sounds of chatter and cars. Albie had never looked more beautiful, the half-light painting him almost divine. Brennon’s heart ached for the love of him, and for the knowledge he was not the love of his many lives.  “What was he like?”  Albie opened his eyes, surprised. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, thinking. Brennon wondered if he was about to get up and leave, lick his centuries old wounds. But he didn’t. He replied.  “He was quicker than I ever was. He won all our races. He used to laugh, a lot, and he was never serious. His hands were always dirty.” He breathed out a laugh, closing his eyes again, pained. “He was the best swimmer, but the horses didn’t like him a bit. He died, minutes before I did, a spear through his chest. He had looked so... Confused. Like he couldn’t conceive of a world where the Gods did not save him. He was not alone. I couldn’t either.” Albie’s hands played with Brennon’s fingers. “You are not him. And I’m trying to forgive you for that.” Outside, the breeze from the river faded, and soon, the chatter and the cars would cease as the city decided to finally sleep.

Liminal Places

The garage open at three am, surrounded by darkness, the neon glow an invitation to passing travellers. Empty, the only life the bored cashier, who likely wouldn’t notice if his customers were zombies. 

The road, surrounded by huddling trees, watching over the cars that come and go. You could lay in the middle of the road for minutes and not be in the slightest bit of danger. The sporadic streetlights drown out all but the brightest stars. 

There’s the mega-stores, named Walmart or Costco. Windowless, temple-like testaments to capitalism, everything in excess. Nothing feels quite real, nothing feels permanent. 

The cemetery is an old one, but it endures. You can feel the presences here, the veil tearing at the edges from age. The stone is crumbling with the bones beneath it, and one day, this too shall be nothing but vines and leaves. 

She had always been walking, following the coastline, in the moonlight. +  Gumusservi (Turkish, n.): the glimmering that moonlight makes on water.

Harry knelt in bed, folded arms resting on the window-ledge as he stared out towards the tranquil sea. It was a starry night, only a few dark clouds gathering by the mountains to the east, and the wind was soft and low. Today had been an active day, full of games, cycling and catching interesting things in the craggy rockpools left by low tide. His parents had expected him to fall asleep instantly when they kissed his forehead goodnight.  But he was awake, the awakest he had perhaps ever been. Because something strange was happening outside. As you looked towards the gentle curve of the shore, there was a glowing. Steady, constant, alluring. It was calling to him, not with sound, but with a need that his nine year old mind had never known the likes of. 

So he walked past his slumbering parents, and past the fishtank bubbling in the darkened living room. He picked up a flashlight from the emergency box kept under the sink, and twisted the heavy backdoor key in it’s lock, tugging the door open with only a small creak. The wind blew sand over his feet as he followed the boardwalk down the slight slope, the conspiratorial whispering of the sea only growing louder.

He wasn’t afraid - it was not as dark as it could be. The moon cast down silver, and the stars glimmered, and his torch kept his feet steady. He wasn’t surprised when he got there, that the light she was giving off was also silver. She was as much a part of this place as the moon, the stars, and the reflections of both. Nor did she seem surprised to find a small boy standing in front of her in a batman t-shirt and sneakers clutching a small bear. He shivered, once, the breeze bringing his skin up in the finest of goosebumps.  She had a kindly face, beautiful. Hair fell to her shoulders in waves, her mouth turning down just a little at the corners. Her dress fell to cover bare feet, and bracelets encircled her thick wrists. She crouched down to look him in the eye. “Hello Harry.” Her voice was barely audible over the sea. “Would you like to hear a story?”  He nodded, holding his bear close, and moving to sit cross legged on the still-warm sand. She made a noise of approval, and turned to stare out at the horizon. “Once upon a time, a long long time ago, when I was nothing but a green, foolish girl, I fell in love with the sea.” She paused, so long Harry was unsure if she would continue.  “You wouldn’t understand of course. Too young. Too young to know what love can do to you. Child, I could not sleep. I could not eat. All I could do was walk by this shore, and kiss the salt water that touched the sand. I added my own salt to the water, and collected the glass made into precious jewels.” Here, she reached a hand into the folds of the dress, and produced a handful of the worthless seaglass. She let it fall through her fingers, though it never hit the sand. 

“I did not know the sea was cruel. I did not know she was unforgiving and jealous. So when she appeared to me, dream like, I embraced her, as she embraced me. I felt my lungs go cold, and I was drowning in her. She likes keeping what loves her.” She crouched down again, and her hands were cold when she tilted his face up. She didn’t seem quite so beautiful now - she seemed terrible. Her hair hung, damp and dripping. “I love her still.”  His heart ached with some unknown sorrow. He didn’t have a name for it. He didn’t like how it tasted. “Harry, I like giving her gifts. To keep her looking at me, you know? To keep her close.” The wind didn’t seem so warm anymore, and suddenly he understood. He understood how the waves that seemed so calm now, could break bones, could drown bodies. He understood how the place where he played in the afternoon sun could also be a place of death and despair. He understood death with all of his nine years of life. 

And he was up and bolting, leaving the woman with her hair blowing about her pale face by her love. When he glanced back over his shoulder, she was whispering to the water. caressing it with her fingers. By the time he was in bed, duvet pulled up over his head, teddy safely clasped in his arms, he could almost tell himself it was a bad dream. He could almost believe it. 

But the thing was, when he woke in the morning, the still light filtering in from the skylight, things were not as they should be. For on his beside cabinet, sea glass glittered, surrounded by sand. 

She gave me a human molar, wrapped in a bloody silk handkerchief. +  Gemas (Indonesian, n.): a feeling of love/affection, arising from someone/something being so cute, that compels you to squeeze them until they squeal/cry.

She worried about her sister. She watched her endlessly, fascinated and repulsed by her in equal measure. The love she felt for the smaller girl was equalled only by her fear.

Frankly, there was something odd about her, even as a baby. Vanessa never cried. She lay, quietly, watching everything with her big blue eyes, and seeming to understand. Daisy adored her from the moment she held her in her arms, every inch the proud big sister. And as they grew up, she ended up more often than not, the proud mother. And once Daisy was sixteen, and their mother lost interest completely, lost to her own mind, she took on the role with confidence.

It really started when Vanessa became a teenager. When her smiles seemed to come more easily, her fingernails always painted pristinely. She became obsessed with her appearance - not out of pride, or of vanity, but what seemed to be a mystification that she had a body at all. She could spend hours in front of a mirror, staring, poking at her cheeks and lips. Daisy wondered what she was seeing. 

Daisy tended towards the opposite. She preferred all the mirrors in their house to be covered, so there was no chance of her catching a glance of herself. She could think of nothing worse than contemplating herself at length. After all - what was she but a collection of inadequacies? She needed no reminder. 

Vanessa was not popular at school - she was avoided. She spent much of her time on her own, going on long walks, coming home with colourfully stained fingers from squeezing flower petals between them. Daisy found berries in her pockets, uneaten but stored. This happened frequently. 

The first was found in a field, surrounded by frost touched grass and the first wildflowers of spring. Her mouth was purple, her hair tangled about her face. She was missing her shoes, three teeth, and a notebook. Her watch remained on her wrist, her pearls on her ears. The second had been missing two teeth, and a handful of gel pens. Daisy stopped reading the news after that.

Vanessa didn’t know them, and seemed disinterested when Daisy enquired. She lay on the bed on her stomach, legs kicking as she flicked through a glossy magazine, gazing at the perfect girls inside. She barely even glanced up. She perked up when Daisy offered to brush her hair, and purred like a kitten when she did so. It shone like spun gold, and Daisy wondered if she had ever seen something as beautiful.

She didn’t always understand the feedback teachers gave on parents evening. They said Vanessa’s social skills were lacking, that she didn’t empathise with characters in the books they were reading. They said she could be cruel, when she wanted to be. Daisy nodded, and bit her tongue. They didn’t see the way her younger sister would hold her when she cried. How when a boy had said something mean to her in the street, she had charged right up to him, fearless, powerful. And how, when she had been worried about yet another bill, head in hands as she clutched at the envelope, Vanessa had presented her with a handkerchief full of teeth. 

“For the tooth fairy.” She said, eyes wide, and innocent.

He laid flowers on his own grave. Same day every year. 

Perhaps it was a morbid tradition. Perhaps it was unhealthy. But in a way, it was comforting. He had died, once. He had been buried in the soil he now let fall through his fingers. He had come back too, but that seemed less important somehow.

He had died frightened, and alone, but not in much pain. He had been buried with enough family to fill a few pews, but few friends to share memories with. His grave was inscribed by something he wouldn’t have picked, but something he he didn’t hate. The cemetery had been one of his favourite places when he was alive. It was quiet, with hedges for birds to twitter in, and a church with history and crumbling walls. He wasn’t sure he believed in a God, but if he was anywhere, he was here.

He left flowers here because he thought someone ought to remember his death. Now he was alive again, albeit it with a much less active heart and certain more cannibalistic tendencies, nobody seemed to want to remember the time he wasn’t. And much less do anything about the causes of death. It was easier to go back to normal. Whatever normal was.

He chose lilies because roses were cliches and too expensive. He liked their smell, and the way the pollen left marks on everything it touched. But he also liked the weeds that popped up all around his tombstone, incorrigible, unable to be destroyed. 

Slayers, ‘Correspondence’

They were emails, but they felt like letters. Whenever he received one, he almost could feel the weight. They felt important. They felt necessary. This wasn’t like the chatrooms he used to run, where everything he said about himself was skimming the surface, but had the pretence of intimacy. This was real. This was an honesty he had only ever shared with Asclepius. 

And some things Asclepius hadn’t even heard from his mouth, since it was about him, as so many things seemed to be. Talking about how much he loved him with someone that wouldn’t pour scorn at his door. Talking about how he loved even the frightening parts. Talking about how love could feel like heartbreak.

Lydia was a marvel, and for the first time, he felt like he was seeing private glimpses of a person she didn’t allow many access to. He treasured every piece of information she shared, and prayed whatever sentence he typed next would not be the thing that broke this spell they both seemed to be under.

He realised, currently, there was very little he would not do for Lydia. And very little he would not do for the God she loved. And that frightened him even as it filled him with a sense of deep, ferocious love. 

DUD: Black Ships

They bit their tongue, and kept their silence. They were damn near mute as well as blind. The amount of time they spent screaming inside their own head, instead of even whispering outloud. They were their own worst enemy, their only friend, their only company.

Who was it that had stolen their tongue? Where exactly had they lost their voice?

If they were honest, they knew the answer. They had started to lose it in the black ship. Not completely, not at the beginning. That would come later, in astropath training, beaten and bled out of them, until they could only just remember how to say their name.

But the process had begun the first time they had answered back, and the pain didn’t stop, the attacker didn’t back off until Cal reached into their mind and made them. There would be no relenting here, no mercy, no restraint. It was kill or be killed, and Cal couldn’t win every battle. So they began to avoid starting them.

Baris would have been proud, had he been here. He had always been saying how they needed to watch their mouth, and now here they were, barely breathing without considering it first. The thing was though, as their voice faded, so did their memories. Baris may have been proud - but Cal didn’t know that.

DUD: Oh Captain, My Captain

Cal fundementally did not understand Merwaldians. They were weird. They eat real food. They cared an astronomical amount about tea. They wore impractical jackets and used impractical forks. Their ships contained far too much brass, and not enough technical displays. They had manners. Feudal worlds remained to be a mystery.

And George, well George was even more of a mystery. George had a contained sense of fun that Cal didn’t understand. Sometimes it stirred something at the edge of their mind, but they suppressed it instantly. The problem was, that Cal didn’t always know when she was joking. When her orders were meant in jest, or when they were meant to decide for themselves. It put them on edge, as did her kindness. The way she seemed to look at them with pity. Kindness didn’t exist for people like Cal. So she was either afraid of them, or wanted something. Or both. Probably both.

Waldeinsamkeit (German, n.): mysterious feeling of solitude when alone in the woods.

You were never alone in the woods. Rationalise it by thinking of it in turns of creatures - there were insects creeping on bark or underfoot, birds fluttering and twitching, perhaps even a deer, passing through, disturbing little. 

Don’t think about the presence all around you, watching, disturbed. It’s interested, so far. Tread carefully as you walk in it’s domain. Do not eat it’s fruit, do not kill it’s prey. Do be wild. Do bare your teeth. Do grind your hands into the earth, do stamp your feet as though your legs were thunder. Make yourself welcome here, make this as much yours guest. Do not act cautiously. 

Soon, you’ll feel something curl around your heart, and you won’t be alone even in your own head. The breath in your chest will be shared. The blood in your veins will be shared. Don’t be concerned - you’re treading on borrowed ground.

Janteloven (Norwegian/Danish, n.): a set of rules which discourages individualism in communities. 

Anna was an awkward little thing, her smock a little too big, a little too worn. Her sandals too were ill-fitting. Her ankles were splattered with dust from the road, her wrists a little red from rubbing at them. She stuck out, in short, because of her aggressive mundanity. People could excuse breaking from the norm if it was to succeed, not if it was to fail.

Nobody gossiped about her. Nobody whispered about her activities, or admired her skills. She could fade into the background without even trying, and that afforded her a certain amount of freedom. For instance, she could go beyond the Fence. 

The elders said that beyond the Fence lay terrible beasts with dripping teeth and grasping claws. They said that there were cliffs as high as mountains, with raging seas crashing against them. They said that the fields you could see at the border were full of poisonous flowers that would cause a rash so painful you would claw your own flesh clean off. 

Anna had been desperate enough to risk it. Perhaps with scars she would be noticed, perhaps with death she would be remembered. So she waited until the village was at Conclave, and slipped off over the Fence, and into the field of sweet looking grass and flowers.

She did not burst into flames, she did not burst into rashes. Instead, she stood in the evening sun, drenched in gold. She held out her palms as though she could catch it. She crushed some grass beneath her feet, and the scent of it filled the air. She felt a gladness coat her heart, and for the first time, she was glad she was invisible. Nobody else had been painted and golden.

Baraka (ةكر ب) (Arabic, n.): a gift of spiritual energy or ‘sanctifying power’.

He pushed it into my hands, the glowing ball that hummed innocently. It was warm, and he cupped his hands around mine as it lit us up. “Take it.” I loved him when he was like this. Intense, showing his cracks. Nobody else saw this. It was all mine.  “I can’t.” I found my voice was a whisper.  “It’s yours anyway.” He closed my fingers around it. “I am so tired. I want to see the world with fresh eyes again. With you.” His godhead flickered, distressed. “It’s my gift, freely given.”

I knew what to do, my dreams had told me in advance. The visions too were his gift. I pressed the light to my heart, and it sunk through my skin, and took shelter within my flesh. My veins lit up with fire, every part of me aching with divinity. I would be a goddess of light, of love, of sacrifice. He watched me, my fire reflecting in his eyes, and he smiled. He was nothing now, when he was everything before. I loved him still. I loved him always. 

Orc Clients

She didn’t get many. Mostly soldiers making their way through from other places, curious about the ways of the League. Mostly they were interested in chatter, in someone to show them around, in drinking companions. The first time she was ever hired by an Orc, she had to admit she was intimidated. Her family, well, were traditionalists in their view. Orcs were easily angered, brutes, not very bright. 

The Orc that hired her had lounged on her sofa, wine in hand, and talked with her about books for hours, more intelligently than many of the human clients she had. Weeks later, some pamphlets written by Orcs had arrived, with a beautifully written note thanking her for her time. The fear had faded a little, after that. Now her heart only jumped when they seemed to be getting angry, when the voices of their ancestors started echoing through their head. 

She still kept her boot knife close, put it that way.

After Dark

Pain crackled along her right side, electric and hot. Slowly, slowly, she was coming around. The smell of blood was sickly in the air, and it took her a moment to realise it was hers. It dripped down from a wound near her temple, and she was currently unable to wiggle her fingers. Fuck. How long exactly had she been out? She shifted, and some of the plaster and brick shifted, sending up a small cloud of dust. And upstairs, she heard something move. Shit. Evidently, the bastards had back up. She thought she had put down the vampires, but like rats, there were always more living in the walls. And she was bloody, and injured. A smile flickered across her face, almost like relief. At least she could go down fighting. It would finally be over, all of it. She forced herself to her feet, fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to make her vomit, staggering to lean across the wall with her good side to gain her balance back. From the sounds upstairs, she guessed there were at least two more. Her right arm hung useless at her side as she fumbled for a stake in her left. She crept to the stairs, black creeping into the edges of her vision, and not just from the darkness already in the house. The voices in the hallway carried down. Men, well, vampire men. Not quite the same thing. "Who the fuck cleared them out this quick-" "Not a good clean up though." "Mossy, maybe -" The voices cut off as she finally made it to the top of the stairs. She could barely see. But she could see enough to make out that the two men standing there were almost definitely not vampires. Shit. Had she dragged civvies into this somehow? That wasn't good. She opened her mouth to think of some excuse, any excuse, but instead the room tilted sideways, and she felt an arm suddenly propping her upright. 

"Okay, right, I think we found our killer. Let's get her to the car, patch her up -"

Silver

They always said that silver could kill a werewolf. Folklore, I thought. But then I saw the way the moonlight gleamed in your eyes before you left for the darkness, and I started believing.

Dawnish Nobles

They kept trying to tempt her over. Commenting on how quickly she would past a test of mettle. How  good she looked with a greatsword. How her poetry could fit in with ease, how many houses would crowd to have her, how she would suit nobility. 

It was almost tempting.

But the thought of noble chastity, of marriage and love and tragedy repulsed her like nothing else. Why would she pursue One True Love when she could have a hundred joyful flings that didn’t end in agony? Why would she invite this sort of pain into her life? Why would anyone?

Tick Tock + Dreams

Peter didn’t always dream. Neverland was his dream after all. When he did dream, Neverland reflected it, with rain or wind or monsters. As of late, he had been dreaming of his mother. A flash of gold, a crashing cracking sound as the world fell to pieces.

He kept waiting for himself to forget. He forgot so very much, he wanted to forget this too. He was sick of waiting to stop missing her. He had only known her two days, and he loved her still, and lost her still. Life was not fair, not in the slightest, and every time he remembered that, it crashed down on him with all the force of a tidal wave. 

He kept a door in the Neverland tree open for her. Just in case.