#no capes cause it could get snagged

[miwachan2]

Hello :) How would vamp!Sun/Moon/Eclipse react to wearing rollerskates? Would they be good with them or fall flat on their face? Would they use them to chase down prey faster? XD

They'd get used to them pretty fast, but the very first moments?

Sun would stumble, trip, and wobble around for a good long while before being ale to coordinate himself

Moon would fall once but then get the hang of it without any stumbling or tripping

Eclipse may wobble once or twice but then it would be like second nature for him

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

I wonder how many times Sin Devil Triggered Vergil's accidentally hit things with his tail. He's been through a LOT of forms throughout his life but the closest thing to a "tail" he's ever had was Nelo Angelo's cape.

     Just-- this is kind of hyper-specific but y'all know the scene from Robots where they first show Aunt Fanny (this one); I just imagine this is what it's like the first handful of times that Vergil uses his Sin Trigger. Just swinging his tail around by accident and hitting

EVERYTHING.

     I mean, he wouldn't be so soft spoken as her but I think it would be the same vibe.      Small fic; ignore some dumb logic-- =      Rain heavily poured down onto the broken pavement as the three Sparda descendants stood together. It had been a long day and the targeted devil of today's contract was upon a high building, blissfully unaware of the death that was going to befall them.      A Sin Devil Triggered Vergil and human Nero were currently going over the game plan about how to dispose of said devil. Dante was acting as a sort of lookout, standing off the side behind Vergil.      Through a heavily distorted voice, Vergil spoke, "Are you sure about this?"      "Yeah," Nero nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets, "I'll be fine; it's not like I haven't flown before."      The plan was simple, Vergil was going to carry Nero up to the target where he'd snatch the devil with his "wings", dropping it right down to Dante; who would be waiting in his own Sin Devil Trigger.      Vergil turned to speak to his brother, pivoting around, "Dante--?"      A grunt left Dante's lips as he felt Vergil's tail whip into his middle, catching his clothes on the sharp scales and getting snagged stuck.      Confused, Vergil turned the other way, causing his tail to move as well. Dante did his best to try and unravel his shirt but was unable to. Loud hearty laughter came from Nero as he watched.      Dante shouted at his twin, "Would you stop moving?"      Freezing in place, Vergil flinched as he felt Dante gently tug the shirt free. Though the scales aren't sensitive, this was still a very new sensation to the blue devil.      Now free, Dante came around front, his shirt in ribbons, "You owe me a new shirt."      Tilting his head in confusion, Vergil waited for Dante to elaborate; completely unaware of his tail that was flicking about.      However, it was Nero who chimed in, "Should get a blanket too- or some bubble wrap- No, wait, I've got it!" He smiled with another loud laugh, "Pool noodles!"      Dante joined the laughter, "That's a great idea; we should get the bright-colored ones too-"      "Just to be safe," a thick layer of sarcasm filled Nero's voice, "His scales blend in so well with the environment, you know."      As the pair laughed, Vergil let out a low huff, crossing his arms, "What are you two on about?"      Dante walked over to his twin, placing a heavy hand on one of the silver-scaled shoulder pauldrons adorning Vergil's shoulder, "That deadly weapon that's coming out of your ass-"      "It comes from the middle of my back," a small huff left through his teeth, shoving Dante's hand away, "Perhaps it would be best not to stand directly behind me, Dante."      "Yeah- Yeah, sure," Dante gave a dismissive wave, "you still need to learn to control your tail, Verge-"      "I can control it just fine. Now," he continued straight through, not allowing the others to rebuke his statement, "could we get this over with? Or would you rather waste more time?"      Rolling his eyes, Dante shook his head, "You really gotta learn to loosen up, Vergil-- have some fun," with a smile, Dante Sin Triggered and awaited orders from the cranky blue devil.

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: part 16 of the double fake dating au!

x

If Haru had, at any point, been under the illusion that dinner with the extended von Gikkingen family would be any less stressful than the sibling reunion, she quickly learnt the error of her ways.

Dinner was executed in the dining hall, and was generally populated by aunts, uncles, and cousins of varying levels of removed. Haru found herself passed from relation to relation, who all had their story to tell, or judgement to pass, or curiosities to be sated. Despite this, there still seemed to be some Cats absent. Among those (whom Haru could keep track of, at least) was Baron's uncle on his father's side, and Hugo's spouse.

When dinner was finally announced, Haru collapsed into the nearest chair with only a curtesy attempt to hide her relief.

This, naturally, was when the horrors started.

"Oh, do tell us all about how you two met," crooned a Great Aunt Gertrude several places down.

"It's really not that interesting–" Haru said.

"Do tell!" choruses a trio of cousins-once-removed.

"I do like a good love story," sighed another.

"It's really very boring–"

"Love is never boring, my dear" a great uncle said, intertwining his paw with his wife's. "Not when you've found The One."

"We'd better give them what they want," Baron murmured. "My family is nothing if not stubborn."

"Is that the word we're going for here?" Haru whispered back.

"Look how they already murmur sweet nothings to one another," a grandmother said wistfully. "Why, it reminds me of my dear departed Archibald."

We're going to cause an uprising when we divorce, Haru thought. Outwardly, she took Baron's hand in hers and tried to be the doting newlywed she was meant to be. "We just met at my work. He used to come in all the time for chairs and tables and suchlike for his teashop..." She trailed off, not entirely sure how to move Baron from Customer to Potential Love Interest.

"And we get chatting," Baron continued, "and the rest is history."

There was a pause.

"That's it?" a kitten further down the table asked disbelievingly. "Where's the meet-cute?!"

What Haru next planned to say was "I did warn you it was boring" but instead she found herself conspiringly leaning forward and saying, "Well, there was the cape incident."

Baron stared at her. By the look in his eye, he was torn between having a pretty good idea of the incident Haru was thinking of, and yet no idea which way Haru was going to run with it. "Haru, please," he said, deceptively calmly, "my family don't need to know about that."

"Yes, we do!" came the chorus.

Haru leant over to Baron. "Better give them what they want," she echoed back wickedly. Louder, she said, "Oh, did he never tell you about the cape phase?"

"You wore capes?" Louise demanded, with an equally wicked gleam to her eye. "Really?"

"They're practical outerwear against the elements," Baron replied hotly.

"Pray, what elements are those in the Cat Kingdom capital?"

Great Aunt Gertrude waved a paw shushingly at her niece. "Tease your brother later. I want to hear about this meeting!"

"Yes," Haru said. "The meeting. So he's taken to wearing capes for a good, oh, week or so, which is fine until he meets another customer coming out of the shop, opens the door for them, and promptly gets the cape stuck in the door." Emboldened by the not entirely surprised smiles of the von Gikkingen family (evidently this was painfully in-character for Baron) she continued with, "He gets his cape free, immediately snags it on a third-century trident, trident falls free, takes a gong and a suit of armour on its way down." She smiled sweetly at Baron. "He stuck around to help tidy up the mess, we had tea to reward ourselves, and the cape made a mysterious disappearance after that."

"Truly a tale I was hoping to take to my grave," Baron replied.

"I could have told them the real story with the revolving door," she whispered.

"My thanks," he whispered back. "My dignity is only partially dented."

"So, Haru," Louise called across, "what part of my brother did you fall for first?"

Haru grinned. "Why, his cape skills, of course."

"And Humbert," Sephie asked, tactfully keepimg the conversarion moving, "what part of Haru did you first fall in love with?"

"Why, her cape-detangling skills, of course."

[writeforfandoms]

Drift Away

Sooooo I don't really know what this is. I might continue it, if there's some interest. This is not at all my norm here on Tumblr so let's see how this goes!

Deathstroke/Slade Wilson and f!reader

Selina takes you to a Wayne charity gala, and you meet an intriguing man and bring home a souvenir.

Warnings: light thievery, Tension, cape and cowl crowd drama.

Word count: 1.2k

The gala was just like any other gala: full to the brim with riches and champagne, and dull. There was lots of networking going on among the elite, as always. Rumors and gossip flew like bullets, tarnishing reputations. Or, in some cases, helping them along.

You kept track of anything particularly interesting you heard as you slunk through the crowds. Selina had sent you off to make a circuit of the room, just to get you out of her hair for a few minutes while she flirted. Not that you minded - she was the mastermind. You were just the helpful friend.

Helpful friend that also knew how to pick pockets, anyway. You smiled slyly, pleased with yourself as you tucked a little diamond charm in your purse. You'd hang it in your room later, just for fun.

You weren't on the same level as Selina, but you could hold your own. You knew what you were doing. And you enjoyed the challenge.

You spotted Dick Grayson across the room, laughing with a few young women. Playing his part well, clearly. Bruce Wayne was nowhere to be seen, but he wasn’t your problem. He was very definitely Selina’s problem.

A few more minutes of wandering brought you back to Selina. She was gorgeous tonight, of course, classic and with just a flash of diamonds to draw the eye. She was a professional, through and through, and you couldn’t help but admire her a little.

“There you are, precious,” she murmured, smiling at you and snagging a glass of champagne to hand to you. “I was beginning to think I’d have to go find you.”

You smiled impishly with a careless shrug. “Oh, you know me. Restless feet.”

“Oh? And what did your restless feet find tonight?”

“Not much of note.” You shrugged. “For a Wayne gala.” In short: the usual, what the two of you had expected.

“Well, maybe you’ll find something fun to distract you.” Selina’s smile shone as bright as the diamonds in her ears. Which meant she wanted you to go find something fun to take, make a little distraction. Nothing huge, nothing incriminating. But she wanted more attention on you than on her.

And she was letting you pick your target, too.

“Oh, I certainly hope so.” You chuckled softly and took a sip of your champagne, gaze already wandering for a likely suspect. “In fact, I think I found something to distract me.” You winked at her and slipped away, back into the crowd.

Since this was essentially just for fun and for a distraction, you picked the biggest target you could. Literally. This man was tall, possibly taller than Bruce, and broad, with white hair held back in a ponytail, and a patch over one eye. His suit was charcoal gray and fabulously tailored, very flattering on him.

And his cufflinks looked to have something expensive in them. You couldn't quite tell from this angle, but the glint of light off them made you curious.

Besides, you rather wanted to see if you could get away with taking something of his.

Selina wanted a little distraction. Nothing huge.

So you "tripped" over another guest and stumbled into the huge man. You gasped and grabbed his arm to help steady yourself, and his free hand came up to your shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He looked down at you, blue eye bright and, if you were reading him right, amused.

"I'm okay," you agreed with a little laugh. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to grab you."

"Not a problem, miss." He lowered his hand, and you took a step back from him. He really was quite handsome.

There. Minor distraction caused. Your job here was done.

Except Dick Grayson stopped next to you, smile fixed firmly in place, eyes a little narrowed. "Slade! I wasn't expecting you tonight!"

The man, Slade, smirked just a little. "Dick," he greeted smoothly.

“Are you alright?” Dick turned his face towards you but didn’t fully look away from Slade.

“Just caught my shoe,” you said with an embarrassed laugh. You were beginning to regret your choice of targets. “I’m perfectly fine, I promise.”

Dick didn’t even respond, merely looking at Slade again. Still. Whatever. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham. Here on business?”

Slade smirked, shifting his hands to tuck them into his pocket. He hesitated for a moment as he tucked in his left hand, the one that you’d taken the cuff link off of. There was no way he could have noticed that. No way.

But you dropped the cuff link. Just in case.

“Stopping overnight,” Slade answered in a smooth drawl. He had a hint of a southern accent still. “Thought I’d stop by and greet some old friends.” His teeth flashed in what might have been a smile.

You were beginning to suspect you had landed right in the middle of something much more dangerous than a little distraction.

“Oh!” you gasped, drawing the gaze of both men. “Did someone drop this?” You stooped briefly to pick up the cuff link off the floor.

Slade’s eye glinted at you and he tipped his head, just a little, a slow smile curling his lips. Normally you weren’t the biggest fan of facial hair, but his looked good. Not too long, nicely trimmed, clearly well kept. And he was clearly older than you. Damn but he was ticking too many of your boxes.

“It’s mine,” he rumbled, holding out a hand. “Thank you for spotting it. I would hate to lose one of a pair.”

You dropped the cuff link into his hand with a smile. “Of course! It would be a shame.” You glanced at Dick to find his jaw clenched. And your smile widened a little. Maybe a little more poking the bear. Just a little. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met.” You gave him your name, holding out your hand.

He reached out slowly, his hand completely engulfing yours. “Slade Wilson.”

“Slade doesn’t live in Gotham,” Dick said with forced cheer. “I’m sure that’s why you two haven’t met before. Say, is Selina around? I know Brucie was looking for her earlier.”

“Oh, she’s somewhere,” you deflected with a light laugh. Slade had scars on his knuckles, so small most people probably didn’t notice them. You weren’t most people. “You know how she is. But I see an old friend - will you two excuse me?”

Dick nodded, already refocused on Slade. Slade inclined his head to you, much more regal than anything you were used to seeing. You stepped between the two and placed one hand lightly on his right arm.

“It was lovely to meet you. I hope you have a good night.”

His smile was slow and almost predatory. “You as well,” he agreed.

You stepped past him and continued on your way. You kept your grin down until you were on the far side of the room, heart still pumping fast, adrenaline going.

That had been a bit of a rush. And just a little distraction.

Later that night, after you’d gotten back to your apartment and changed into comfortable clothes, you held up the cufflink you’d taken from his right sleeve and smiled. Pity you only had one of a pair.

--

Taglist: @beecastle @littlemisspascal @honey-im-hotdog

[timesofupdate]

First commercial landing on the Moon in danger after 'severe loss' of spacecraft fuel

The first US effort to return to the Moon hit a major snag Monday when Pittsburgh-based Astrobotic's lunar lander suffered a problem with its propulsion system just hours after liftoff.In a statement, the company said The system failure was "causing severe loss of propellant" and forcing the firm to assess "what alternative mission profiles may be possible at this time."Astrobotic is attempting a return to the Moon more than 50 years after the Apollo missions, with a major accomplishment – ​​becoming the first commercial space company to land an aircraft on the lunar surface."It took a while for the technology to advance to the point where we could affordably, routinely, get to the surface of the moon," Astrobotic CEO John Thornton said in an interview with Yahoo Finance ahead of the launch. “The stars have aligned with the moon, if you like.”Thornton and his team made their first bet on the Peregrine lunar lander, a short-range spacecraft developed inside its 47,000-square-foot facility. Equipped with electronics, propulsion and communications systems, Peregrine was loaded onto a United Launch Alliance (ULA) Vulcan Centaur rocket and launched at 2:18 a.m. ET Monday at Cape Canaveral, Florida.The brand-new rocket, the United Launch Alliance (ULA) Vulcan Centaur, carrying Astrobotic's Peregrine lunar lander, lifts off from Space Launch Complex 41D in Cape Canaveral, Florida, on January 8, 2024, for its maiden voyage, aimed at the Moon down at. (Greg Newton/AFP via Getty Images) (Greg Newton via Getty Images)The launch was successful, but seven hours after liftoff, the company said it encountered a problem with the propulsion system that prevented the spacecraft from pointing toward the sun, a function that is critical... Read Complete News ➤ Read the full article

[ask-organized-chaos]

(( @lilguydredge - to Blair)) Observe-

In one of it's scurrying attempts to get through the crowd, the little creature finds a flap of fabric bopping itself in the face. With a small annoyed shriek it clawed at Blair's cape. Once it's claws and hands caught the fabric well it scrambled up to see where it lead and who it could chitter at to complain.

Blair stopped in his tracks, looking down as something seemed to snag on his cape. It wasn't long before he discovered the cause: a very small creature wearing a handsome bowtie.

"Hello," Blair said, tilting his head to see the creature better through one of his mask's eye lenses. "Can I help you with something?"

[liviavanrouge]

Abby Aizawa

Hero name: Pied Piper(Formerly), Midnight(currently)

---

Age: 15(First appearance), 16(Currently)

Gender: Female

Blood Type: A

Height: 5’6

Weight: Unknown

---

Love interest: Hawks(formerly), Rody Soul(formerly), Tamaki Amajiki(Boyfriend, currently)

---

Status: Unknown

School: U.A. High

Occupation: Student, Hero in training

Mentor: Mirko, Midnight(Formerly, Deceased), Hound Dog(Currently)

Apprentice: Tamashiro

---

Grandfather: Sebastian/Nightmare, ???

Grandmother: Gloria(Deceased), ???

Father: Shota Aizawa

Mother: Tiana Aizawa/Jet/Blossom Rouge

Stepmother: Rosemary Aizawa

Uncle(s): Kira, Dicarius, Hoka, unnamed Uncles

Auntie(s): Marley, unnamed Aunties

Older twin brother: Axel Aizawa

Youngest brother(s): Jonah Aizawa

Adopted brother(s): Leone

Youngest Stepsister(s): Judy

Youngest Stepbrother(s): Wolfsbane, Jay, Terrance, Mandrake, Pyro Todoroki

Cousin(s): Delilah, Marcus, Izzy, Snowflake, Jameson, several cousins

Pet: Fluffy/Panthera(cat/panther shapeshifter)

---

Appearance: Abby stands at 156 cm which reads as 5’6, she has long dark blue hair that reaches down to her waist, so it is mostly up in a bun unless she feeling particularly lazy but it is mega rare to see her with her hair down. She wears the school uniform properly despite being raised by her mostly sleeping father, since she was taught at a young age that appearance can be everything at times by her Auntie Midnight. Her eyes are a dark purple with a hint of yellow near the middle.

Her hero suit consists of several different fairy tales character clothing. The base of her clothing is based off of the mad hatters clothes, but her right sleeve is blue and shirt like Alice’s dress, while her left sleeve is a dark purple with lavender stripes for the Chesire cat. She has blue shorts with black leggings underneath, along with a red cape for red riding hood. She wears brown boots that have two purple bows in the back.

Later on Abby adds on and changes her hero costume slightly, instead of a red cape she now has a white one, and added a belt so she can place her cards in the pouch connected to it. After Midnights death Abby inherits her mentors whip, so upgrades her belt so she is able to connect the whip to it and take it off rapidly whenever she needs to. Her boots are also changed to red boots with a purple butterfly on it symboling Midnight in her own way.

During the second war, Abby is first seen fused with Chesire Cat, along with a bracelet with a charging device connected to it. During the fight with Shigaraki she slices some of her hair off so he couldn't snag it. During the big threes attack she restyled her hair, making herself look more like Yoichi which shocks Shigaraki, provoking him into injuring her.

---

Quirk: Disaster Wonderland

Description: Abby’s quirk grants her fantasy cards from children books she’s seen or read in the past, a new appearing when she finds a new fantasy book so she can expand her collection. Her quirk turns the fantasy characters into more horror like beings, an example being Alice from Alice in wonderland who has blood stains on her dress along with a ripped stuffed teddy and a pair of large long sharp scissors. Abby mainly summons Chesire Cat, Alice, Red riding hood, and the Mad hatter. After the liberation war and Abby’s disappearance she returned able to fuse with a fantasy character and gain a more powerful access to their power.

---

Backstory: Abby was born to Eraserhead(Shota Aizawa) and Jet(Tiana Aizawa), along with her twin brother, Axel, getting her name from her father who felt great joy when she was born, which shows the meaning behind her name “Father’s Joy” also causing her to be more of a daddy’s girl. She grew up in her grandparents mansion, her mother inheriting it and moving in with her family causing Abby to live a more rich like life. Due to her mothers infamous hero work and being the number three hero, Abby was a little spoiled but she could tell the difference between being a spoiled bad kid and being a spoiled good kid. She met Izuku and Bakugo in elementary school, becoming close friends with the both of them, but started to drift apart from Bakugo after his quirk manifests and he started picking on Izuku.

She later becomes friends with Maria and Daphne who are the children of her parents old school friends, and even invites Izuku to hang out with them despite him being the only boy of the group. The day her quirk manifested was the day her grandmother died, Abby had been sitting in the backyard touching the flowers growing around the yard she helped her mother grow when she accidentally summoned the Chesire Cat after mumbling his name when remembering the Alice in wonderland story her father had read to her the other night to put her to sleep. After summoning the Chesire Cat the backyard started to crumble, Abby’s quirk going out of control after she panicked, causing her family to fear for her life. Her grandmother was the only and first person to move, but was killed when Abby grabbed her arm, causing her grandmother to die at the hands of her new power.

At the age of ten Abby’s mother died at the hands of a villain, unbeknownst to her at the moment was that her mother was alive and somewhere else, but due to the belief that her mother was dead Abby lost her smile, which her twin tried his hardest to get back, and walked around with an emotionless face saying little to no words to her friends, and causing her to become distant. After her mothers dead Abby trained with her father, and read more fantasy books, getting more cards for her quirk so she could become a hero. She tells her father at the age of eleven that she’s gonna become a hero, causing Aizawa to start to protest at her decision but she manages to convince him by saying she wanted to make her mother proud, the mother she no longer had in her life. Aizawa became distant with Abby afterwards, causing Midnight to take on a parental figure role for the eleven year old, and continue training her to she could be a hero.

When Abby turned fifteen she met Jiro who was also taking the test to get into the top hero school in Japan, both working together to get points and Abby even saving Jiro with her Bandersnatch card that she usually couldn’t summon before despite her having low energy. The duo get into the school together, even having the same class. Abby starts to become distant with Jiro after seeing her friend get closer to Momo Yaoyorozu, and became friends with Setsuna Tokage who later on in the series would save Abby’s life twice. Abby became more of a side character but during Season 2 of My Hero Academia she became more of a main character the reasoning being unknown until the Liberation Arc where she reveals a dark secret. Abby’s future has yet to come together, so at the moment this is the only backstory info known on her until it can be upgraded.

[pagesfromthevoid]

I have an idea that could work - Andrew's Spiderman and the reader as black cat. His sarcasm and her flirtatious nature would bounce off of each other really well.

Let’s Do the Time Warp | p.p.

Andrew!Peter Parker x superpowered!fem!reader

Word Count: 989

Author’s Note: Soo I loved this (and you’re my first requester!!) but I don’t actually know a lot about Black Cat or what she does. So I changed the reader to having different abilities but the same flirty banter…I hope you don’t mind!!

Series Masterlist | Request here

———

There was something about wearing a mask that gave Peter far more confidence than he actually had. Something about no one knowing he was this awkward, occasionally manic guy who took pictures for a living just…made him cocky. It was a great feeling, no one knowing who he was. Hearing people on the streets, or at work, or just in general speculate how hot Spider-Man probably was. It was probably the only good thing about having an anonymous superhero life, honestly.

That confidence translated well into his fights too. Most of his bad guys found his quips annoying, which he absolutely used to his advantage. Bantering back and forth distracted the criminals, confused them, and left them vulnerable to whatever Peter had planned for them. It was the non-superpowered criminals that it really worked on though. Especially when they pulled knives on him; that was always his favorite line (“Oh shit, it’s my kryptonite —a small knife!” Then boom, webbing them).

There was one person, however, that the banter didn’t bother. One person that the banter didn’t confuse, or throw off. At first, it had bothered him; after all, it was his favorite part of the fight. But as time went on, he started to appreciate the comebacks and responses he got from her.

He didn’t know her real name; as hard as Peter tried, he couldn’t find out her identity. It was a disturbingly well kept secret, though he figured she was probably trying to figure his out as well. All he knew was what the public had named her: Time Warp.

The issue he had with Time Warp was that she wasn’t necessarily a villain, but definitely wasn’t a hero. She was just chaos, wrapped in a hooded cape and a dark purple and black catsuit. She wore a mask, a simple black one that obscured just enough that he couldn’t pick out specific details. And her eyes were an unnatural color every time they met, which he was certain they were contacts that she switched out constantly.

And she could stop time.

That’s what Peter disliked the most about her. He’d figured out that she couldn’t stop time very long; fifteen seconds at the most. But fifteen seconds was enough time to cause damage; to escape every time. His senses picked up when she was about to pause the world around them, but then he’d freeze. And by the time everything started again, she was gone.

It drove him insane.

Tonight was no different. A jewelry heist, a masked woman with a cape and purple eyes. Impossibly fast, and on the run. But there were no causalities; no one hurt seriously. Peter supposed he should be thankful that she wasn’t that kind of criminal.

Swinging across the city, Peter had to rely heavily on his senses to pick up on her powers. The closer he got, the stronger his senses became, until he finally dropped down onto a rooftop. Time Warp was stuffing a bag with jewelry, analyzing specific pieces. She didn’t even look up though.

“I need to start playing hard to get; you’re getting faster,” she teased, pushing her hood back to look at him fully.

Mask or no mask, Peter could assume she was beautiful and it annoyed him that he felt that way.

“Or you’re just getting slower,” he countered, shooting a web to snag the bag from her.

She didn’t seem phased. “Maybe I wanted to be caught. Maybe I want to be reformed.”

He looked down at the bag, then back at her, eyes narrowing behind his mask. “I don’t know if anti-hero is really your thing, Warp. You’re not a very good criminal, I can’t imagine you’d make a good hero either.”

Time Warp rolled her eyes, standing up straight now as she set her hands on her hips. The cape fell back off her shoulders. “I think you just don’t want me to distract you while you’re playing. I see how you look at me, Spidey.”

Peter scoffed. “You can’t see anything, I don’t even blink.”

It was certainly a plus from his costume; his goggles didn’t give away every emotion he portrayed. His alternate version’s were way too expressive, in his opinion. There wasn’t a need for all his enemies to see how he felt behind the mask. Especially when he was definitely checking them out.

His senses panicked suddenly, and just as he raised his hand to web her, time stopped. When he returned to his senses, she was closer, standing chest to chest with him. Even with her heeled boots, she was several inches shorter. “Am I not pretty, Spider-Man?” She pouted, reaching up to run her nails against his mask. “I bet you’re very pretty under that mask.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he offered sarcastically, snatching her wrist.

“Hmm, tempting, but I don’t think it’s your face I really wanna see.” She glanced down then back up, winking playfully. Under his mask, Peter blushed furiously then he pulled away from her and dropped her wrist. She pouted again, crossing her arms over her chest. “I bet your girlfriend is just dying for you to be home every night. Or maybe your boyfriend? You look like a guy who swings in everyway possible.”

“I think you’re projecting —“

“We could make it a three way —“

“Anddd I’m taking you to jail now,” he finally said, shooting a web to yank her back to him, holding her wrists now.

She gasped, caught off guard, but a wicked grin soon replaced her surprise. “Ooh, Spidey, I didn’t know you liked to tie’em up. I’m into it —do you use the webbing in the bedroom?”

“That’s not really your business, is it?” He argued, looking down at her before he turned her around, holding her hands behind her back now to prevent her from escaping.

She pressed her body into his, looking up at him from behind. “I’d love to make it my business. What do you say?”

“I’d rather eat glass, honestly.”

“The quarters in your pocket say otherwise.”

Peter panicked slightly, pushing her away instinctively. By the time he realized she was just teasing, time had stopped once more. And when it restarted, she (and the jewelry) were gone.

God, he hated her.

———

Requests are OPEN | Let’s Do the Time Warp (Again)

———

Taglist: @blankspaceblankday

[sonder-paradise]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

◊ A/N: I rewrote this thing like three times today and each time I hated it so please love this version I beg of you- unedited we die like odasaku :/

◊ Genre: Vampire AU, Drama, Hints of Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Suggestive Content (towards the end)

◊ Pairing: Vampire!Chuuya Nakahara x Vampire Hunter!GN!Reader

◊ Word Count: 1.8k

Chilled air iced your lungs. Leaves crumpled and crackled beneath your running feet. Your chest heaved in the sickeningly acidic atmosphere as you ran. Running through the cryptic forest and away from the devils that lay within it. Pain littered through your eardrums. A pounding sensation unlike any other was thundering through your body. If adrenaline was a drug, you were certain you were drunk off it.

Thick branches snagged and dragged at your legs and flowing cape. Occasionally, a sturdy one seemed to extend itself purposely simply to trip you and cause you to stumble into the mud-soaked leaves below. Yet, even in the turmoil of the situation, you ran.

Your tiresome journey ended at the rusty iron gates of a manor. Eyes barely ablaze, you staggered against the cold bars. Letting your cheek rest against the metal, you inhaled the ice of the air once more. The snow began to fall.

For a moment, you thought perhaps the snow was greeting you. Perhaps it would guide you to the land of no return. Allowing your eyelids to grow heavy, you could feel your body topple onto the hardened dirt of the Earth.

Warmth. It felt like the warmth of childhood. A vanilla-scented atmosphere that beguiled in the delights of sweet red wine and bitter chocolate. Your body slowly came back to life. Stiff limbs creaked and ached as your mind evaluated your state of mind little by little.

A burning fire roared in the hearth and heated the gothic room up rather nicely. The bed you currently lay in was in a state of disrepair. It seemed it had not felt the touch of a human for quite some time. And all around, you noted the labyrinth of novels stacked like pillars.

“So you finally woke up?”

In a flash, your hand was clutched upon the wooden crossbow settled on the bedside table. “Who are you?”

A man’s voice emerged from the shadows. He seemed less menacing as he grew closer to you. Dark blue eyes that glinted with a curiosity and darkness unparalleled to anything you had witnessed before; Striking auburn hair that framed his pale expression and pulled into a neat ribbon at the nape of his neck; And, above all, teeth that shined like the blade of a knife.

“The man who saved your ass from freezing in the middle of winter,” he scoffed.

As he got closer, you could note that his stature did not seem to match the nature of his demeanor. Still, you were quiet.

“And it looks like I’m not getting a ‘thank you’ out of you either,” he continued, clasping the crossbow as well. Your fingers, still numb from the cold, grazed over his own. A strangely chilling sensation struck through your spine. This man did not appear to be human.

“Thank you,” you finally choked out, relinquishing your hold on the weapon.

He followed suit, though stayed at the side of your bed. “You’re not staying here long. I know who you are and I’m sure you know what I am.”

“I know nothing about you nor what you are,” you lied, gazing up at him. “I should at least know my savior's name.” Those eyes really didn’t do your words justice. They seemed inhumane just on their own.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment. “Chuuya…” he finally answered, “And it wouldn’t do any good to lie to me. I already saw your company’s shitty insignia on your crossbow.”

The quick glance to the engraved stake and cross on your bow did little to negate the situation. There truly was no chance in hiding it.

“Then you know I’m a vampire hunter,” you muttered, suspicion lacing your voice, “Why save me if I’m an enemy?”

Chuuya didn’t seem to want to answer your question. His eyes briefly glazed over; as if he was asking himself the very same question. Then he tore away from your gaze. “Just shut up and get out as soon as possible. You humans heal so slowly…”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Chuuya’s voice echoed out. Your journey through the large, creepy manor was cut short upon spotting your Vampiric host.

“It was cold. I wanted to get some more firewood for my room,” you explained, shifting anxiously. As strange as it was, neither enemy seemed willing to kill the other in this situation. Vampire and vampire hunter had been living together symphonically for nearly a month today.

Though little interaction with Chuuya was preferable, you no longer had a choice when he approached your room every day or brought you food when your temperature spiked alarmingly high.

He sighed at your answer regardless. “You’re so fucking troublesome, you know that? I thought I told you to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“It’s still too cold,” you muttered. Even to you, your answer felt weak; like it was some form of an excuse to continue living life with a vampire.

“Humans and the cold,” he grumbled, “Just wait in your room, I’ll bring you your shitty firewood.”

With no other explanation, Chuuya had already disappeared from the spot he once stood. You decided to do the same.

Upon reaching your room, you were unsurprised to see Chuuya already stoking the once dying embers of the fireplace. He paused his work, seemingly accessing the way you walked or your breathing patterns. You could never tell what he was thinking. Sometimes, he seemed like the most clear-cut man. Other times, he was the stoic vampire you were born and taught to kill. He walked a thin line of humanity that never seemed to leave enough room for the imagination.

“Lie down,” he said, “You’re gonna catch another cold if you don’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice only barely hitched on to the end of his. Chuuya stood once more, crossing his arms over his chest and giving you the same look he had given you a month ago.

“Because I heard a vampire Hunter’s blood is the sweetest, okay?”

He wanted to scoff at the perplexed look in your eyes. “It has to be fresh, you idiot. Drinking ice-cold blood from a dead body is not as appetizing as your storytellers make it sound.”

And yet, it seemed like his answer was weak. As if there was something else to it; something even more that you lacked the knowledge to understand.

But, given the situation and given the fact he had not once attempted to drink from you, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“If that was the case,” you blurted through giggles, “You’ve done a terrible job at being a vampire.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened and he averted his piercing blue gaze away and back towards the fire. If not for the blazing heat of the hearth, you might have noticed the tinges of pale pink highlighting his cheeks.

“Just shut it,” he spat, “I wasn’t about to steal it from you and you’re too sickly to drink from anyway. Besides even if I tried, that fucking crossbrow would be launched into my heart instantly.”

Your laughter nullified and seemed to fill the room with a bittersweet blessing. Perhaps he had been right. There was a chance that instinctively, you would have hunted him like the rest of his kind. His blood would not have been the first vampiric blood to stain your hands nor would it be the last.

“Then how about now? I’ll let you drink some now.”

Chuuya paused, clearly unsure about the subject. In the light of the fire, you could notice how thin he seemed now. His eyes held a peculiar hunger about them. In the dead of winter, you considered the possibility that he had not drunk in quite some time.

He swallowed thickly, growing closer to you slowly but surely. “You’re sure?”

“Did I mention you’ve done a terrible job at being a vampire, Chuuya?”

He ignored your comment this time, glancing from your neck to your eyes as if truly looking for confirmation. The desperation in his eyes grew.

“But yes, I’m sure. You saved my life after all.” You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. The very creature you were raised to kill meant something more than just another monster to you.

You weren’t sure when Chuuya had finally stood in front of you. His hand reached out to loop around the back of your neck. And like the blazing fire, something deep and tension-filled roared in between the thin space between you two. Your hands found security on the bed as he drew near. His body pinning yours against the soft mattress now.

“Chuuya…?” you whispered into his ear as he nestled in between the crook in your neck.

“Just shut up before I hurt you.”

Intoxication filled Chuuya’s lungs. You smelled more sweet than he could have ever imagined. It was so heavy and seductive, he strained to find his composure. His arm traveled around your waist, grasping it tightly as if to keep a hold on something real. And yet, you seemed so fragile in his embrace. He couldn’t remember if all humans felt so weak in comparison to himself.

Slowly, you could feel the tip of his fangs graze your skin. Preparing for the ache in your neck to appear, you were surprised to feel it for only a moment. Chuuya held you close. His tongue swiped at the open wound as delicately you felt he might have been apologizing.

Something so simple shouldn’t have felt so intimate. You grasped the back of his coat, trying not to let out the whine of pain your body prompted you to release.

“Just a little more,” he mumbled. You could feel droplets of blood bead against your skin but only for a moment until he licked them away. And as he took in the sweet insobriety of your blood, Chuuya held you as if you were made of glass.

You flinched when he finally pulled away. The raw sensation around your neck crackling with both arousal and hints of pain. Chuuya observed your expression, eyes searching for your own. He seemed to be attempting to answer an unspoken question between the two of you.

His answer lay in the form of the soft, feathery kiss he placed against your neck.

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[snothing]

Request: Drabble in which Jake looks through some old stuff and finds a rather odd yet captivating item: a red tunic with a green scaly leotard, a black-yellow on its right side, a black domino mask, green gloves and finally green pixie boots. he decides to try the suit on

I want to apologize for how long this took! I’ve been so busy with school, and I made this way longer and convoluted than necessary. It’s definitely not a drabble anymore, and I added a lot of sibling banter, lol, I can’t resist. This was so much fun to make, I had so many ideas. Thank you so much for being patient, and I hope you enjoy! 

I decided to deviate from my universe, while keeping some old things. Mar’i and Jake are still twins, and Mar’i can turn invisible.

"Go away, Jaki! This is my hiding spot!" Mar'i whispered-hissed at her brother. She glared at him through a jungle of coats and umbrellas in the armoire, her mouth in a tight frown.

"Oh, come on, Mar'i!" Jake cried. With a flair for the dramatic, he threw his hands up in the air. Of course, his annoying sister would take his favorite, top-secret hiding spot!

"Shhh!" she snapped, finger to her lips. Pink eyes flashed brightly at him. "Would you be quiet? Do you want Dad to find us?"

He pursed his lips and looked down the hall. Pretty soon, his dad would be done counting and be searching for them. Still, a great wrong had been committed in the eyes of Jake. "You took my hiding spot! Get out!" he seethed, just a decibel lower.

"Nuh-uh, it's not your hiding spot!" Mar'i shot back. "You don't own it!"

Jake smirked cockily and pointed a finger past her. "Uh, yeah, Mar'i, I do." 

A deep, unamused frown settled on Mar'i's face as she noticed— in bright cerulean blue crayon— the word "Jake" hastily scribbled on the panel. "That means nothing! You don't own everything you put your name on."

He silently raged. "How am I not surprised a heathen like you-"

"-Heathen?! I watched you squirt an entire can of Easy Cheese in your mouth!"

"That was a long time ago. I’m a different man now."

"It was last week!"

"As I said, a long time ago," he retorted drolly. "Anyway, as I was saying— only heathens don't respect the sacred rules of hide-and-seek!"

"You're so ridiculous," she sighed, exhausted. "You act like I broke the law."

"Well, you might as well have. I'm hurt, Mar'i, really I am. I never thought you'd betray me like this. My own flesh and blood— my wombmate--"

"Ew, don't call me that!"

He clasped his hands together. "I think the only way to solve this and mend our broken relationship is for you to leave and find a new hiding spot."

Mar'i stared blankly at him. Jake was her favorite person in the entire universe, but there were times where she wanted to slap him. "I'm not leaving, Jaki."

"By the love of X'hal, you can turn invisible!" he argued.

"So? Dad's using heat-sensing goggles this time."

"Mar'i!"

"Hey, babe," their father's voice filtered in from downstairs. They stilled, eyes wide and locked on each other. 

"Hello, my love. Are you looking for something?" they heard their mother ask him. 

"Oh you know, just for two half-human, half-alien eight-year-olds? Have you seen them? They're like yay-high, black hair with orange skin? Got glowing green eyes?"

"Oh," Kory chuckled. "I think I know the two. Say, are they dangerous?"

"Very. The little rascals will eat all your cereal and blame it on an innocent larva."

"My, they sound like quite the dastardly duo," she mused. "I believe I saw them go upstairs. Please, proceed with caution."

Dick let out a laugh. "Don't worry, babe. I think I'm well-equipped to handle them; Batman raised me after all."

Mar'i snapped back her attention to Jake, panicked. "Go away, Jaki!" she nearly growled. 

"But-" he tried to argue, but her hand shot out and closed the armoire door, effectively ending their discussion. 

Frantic, Jake looked around for a new hiding spot. Under his bed? No, there was a monster. Behind the house plants? Nope, too obvious. In the air vent? Nah, he'd get stuck again. Finally, his eyes found the inconspicuous attic door. 

He was like 90% sure it was haunted. Uncle Jay showed him and Mar'i a horror movie once, and he learned that attics were prime real estate for ghosts and couldn't be trusted. 

But...

It would probably be a great hiding spot. His dad wouldn't expect it. 

The creaking of the stairs interrupted his thoughts and effectively ended his inner turmoil. He dashed to the attic door and braved the darkroom. 

"Oh wow," he said, looking around. The room was cramped, littered with boxes and other knickknacks. Moonlight filtered in through the port window. "Okay, ghosts, listen. I don't mean to trespass or anything. I just need a place to hide from my dad, alright? So no possessing me, okay? I'll only be here for a couple of minutes."

Slowly, he made his way through the clutter, hoping to find a nice nook to squeeze in. A thick layer of dust coated everything in the room, and it was not long before he started hacking. It was then that his left foot hit a meddlesome snag in the carpet, causing him to plummet down on a pile of boxes. 

He let out a rather undignified squeak when his knee slammed into the ground. A flurry of Tamaranean curse words left his mouth; thank heavens, his mom was not around to hear him. "Stupid ghosts!" Jake spat. The crash was loud. His dad knew where he was now. "And stupid Mar'i for making me hide in this stupid, haunted attic!"

He went to glare at the confounding boxes, but he halted when he saw something interesting. His ire vanished, his head cocked slightly. He pulled himself up from the ground and went to analyze the contents of the fallen box closer, his hand alit with a low-energy starbolt.

Inside the unsuspecting box was a brightly colored uniform. Jake's eyes widened the size of saucers. Could this be? There was no way. But sure enough, he found the iconic scaly leotard and black domino mask. Yep, this was his father's old Robin uniform. 

He stared at the red tunic with the utmost reverence; his thumb traced the R. Jake was so absorbed in the costume he failed to notice his sister hovering over him. 

"Whatcha got there, Jaki?" she asked curiously, face inches from his.

He let out a squeal and jumped several feet in the air. He snarled, eyes ablaze in a blue fury. "Mar'i! Don't do that!"

She snickered, an eyebrow raised. "It's not my fault you're not observant."

"I was in stealth mode," he said defensively. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be hiding in my hiding spot?"

She shrugged. "Dad found me pretty quick, so I decided to come to bother you."

Jake was surprised. "Wait, do you mean he didn't hear me fall?"

"Nah, I told him you were being a cheater and hiding outside. Thankfully, you decided to be a klutz after he left," she informed him. She frowned when she noticed the betrayed look on his face. "What? I thought you'd be happy I saved you!"

"I think it's funny you pick and choose when to be a loyal sister."

She smiled. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Jaki. Now, what's that?"

Jake followed her pointed look at the costume. He showed her excitedly. "I think it's Dad's old Robin costume!"

Green eyes rounded. "What? No way!"

"Yes, way!" he dazzled. "Look at the insignia!"

"Whoa," she breathed. She fingered the black-yellow cape gingerly. Her head snapped up. "Come on, put it on!"

"W-what?" He gave her a bemused look. 

"I know you want to," she said wryly. She held up the tunic and pushed it towards her brother. "I bet you'd look just like dad."

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off. Honestly, he did not need much convincing. Jake had seen pictures of his dad in his early crimefighting days, but a thought stopped him. "I don't know, Mar'i..."

"Why not?"

"Well, Damian's Robin."

"And?"

"And I don't want to-- I don't know. I guess I don't want to send the wrong message," Jake answered. He sighed somberly. "Besides, it's not like I could ever be Robin anyway. I'm weird."

"What the heck?" Mar'i spluttered. "You think you can't be Robin because you have powers?"

"Robins don't have powers, Mar'i," he said, dejected. "They don't fly or shoot starbolts."

She snorted. She scooted closer to her twin, looking at him intently. "And? Anyone with a brave heart can be Robin, and as I can see, you have one."

"But-"

"No buts, Jaki," she cut him off. Mar'i was not going to allow her brother to put himself down. "I like you just the way you are. I think shooting starbolts and flying is super neat!"

"You're biased," he chuckled. Mar'i's words instantly made him feel better, though. 

Her mouth blossomed into a silly grin. "Well, yeah, duh. I know if I'm awesome, you have to be. Now, put it on!"

"Okay, but turn around. I need privacy!"

"Yay!" she piped before spinning around. Her arms and legs tingled with excitement.  

"Okay, I think I'm ready now," he told her, a bit apprehensive.

Mar'i whipped around, nearly knocking Jake down in the process. She almost burst out in awe when she saw him there, proudly donning their father's uniform. "Wow, Jaki! It looks so good on you!"

He flushed. His eyes, now concealed by a domino mask, peeked down at his body. It had been a bit awkward in some places; Jake did not care for his legs being so exposed, but otherwise, it fit like a glove. "Really?" he asked, swooshing his cape back and forth.

Her head bobbed up and down. "You look just like Dad when he was young!"

"What do you mean by that, Mar'i? I'm still young!" 

Jake and Mar'i were startled by the voice. They spun around in the direction of the attic door and spotted their dad: the first-ever Boy Wonder and best pancake-maker-this-side-of-the-galaxy-- Dick Grayson. 

"Dad!" the siblings exclaimed in perfect unison. 

Dick chuckled. "And what are you two glowsticks doing in the attic? I thought we were playing hide and-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Jake. His eyes widened as they absorbed, his mouth agape.

Jake panicked, and shame surged through him. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he said hastily. "I-I was just hiding upstairs a-and I fell a-and I found your old costume!"

"Jake-"

"A-and I knew I shouldn't have, b-but Mar'i said I should-"

Jake paused when he felt his father's hand on his shoulders. He looked up and met his father's loving gaze. "Jake, calm down," Dick comforted. "It's okay."

Jake swallowed. "You're not mad?"

"No, of course not, son," he responded, genuine. 

"Doesn't he look cool, Dad?" Mar'i piped up, a goofy grin on her face. 

Dick smiled tenderly and moved his hand to caress Jake's face. He could not have predicted what seeing his son wear his old Robin uniform would do to him. His heart soared with love and pride. 

"Yes, Mar'i, he looks pretty cool," he agreed. 

Jake beamed and matched his sister's goofy grin. He thought his dad would be mad at him, but thankfully, he was the furthest from mad. 

"But don't think this means you can go out crimefighting," Dick added quickly.

"Aww, Dad!" Jake whined.

Dick wagged his finger at him. "Don't 'aww, Dad' me! You may have the look, but you're not old enough."

Jake pouted. "I'm not a baby anymore, Dad!"

"Aww, but you're still my baby.” He gave Jake a quick kiss to the temple. “Now, come on, you two. Mom made dinner, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you."

"Did she burn the food again?" Mar'i grimaced. She loved her mother dearly, but she was not the most adept in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don't know if I can eat burnt lasagna again, Dad."

"Now, now, glowsticks. Mom spent all day working on this meal!" Dick assured them. He escorted them out of the attic. "It's a dish from Tamaran. I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

Mar'i whispered to her brother, "I like when Mom cooks. We always get McDonald's afterward."

"Or food poisoning."

[kryptsune]

World Building Wednesday! ~Felldritch

🌼I got a request to do a WBW for Felldritch and since there have been updates to the overall world and lore I wanted to make sure this was all in a nice little package! If you have questions and want to learn more let me know the ask box is always open!  So let's get started! Oh and here is a link to the fic! FELLDRITCH

Felldritch

Classification: HorrorFELL

Cult  Alternate “Nicknames”:

Red: Saw Boss: Corvus

Gaster: Sephtis

Asriel: Saber Toriel: Ameria

Asgore: Kirnon

Undyne: Ryx Alphys: Vesh Muffet: Carmilla Grillby: Noire MTT: Faust

Doggo: Croix

Riverperson: Bastet (Tet)

Main Plot Synop: Felldritch takes place after a pacifist run by Frisk. The story briefly goes as follows. Frisk ends up in the Underworld (Underground) and befriends the monsters and wants to set them free. It is basically a way watered down version of WTU in essence. Once reaching the end of her journey the monsters refuse to let her be that final soul. They would rather wait and figure out something else but with her Determination she promises to return to them and set them free. At this point in time she is around 18-19. Asriel sacrifices himself to that end to see her leave through the barrier only for the humans to capture the poor girl after she leaves. They conclude that she is not mentally stable due to her insistence that monsters are real and throw her into an asylum/sanitarium to be “treated”. Nearly 5+ years later and she manages to escape finding herself once again in the Underworld only it is far different from what she remembers. At this point, she is questioning whether anything is real or not. After being “treated” for so long she doesn’t quite know which reality is the true one. As Red (aka Saw) points out:

The Brothers: 

Red: The younger brother of the two. His attachment to Frisk stems into more of a relationship though he blames himself for loosing her all those years ago. This psychological state causes him to throw himself into the problem that is befalling their world. At first nothing seems to combat this intrusive forest and horrifying beasts but he learns to utilize his magic in a different way. Prior to this he is what one would think of a a Red type but after meeting Frisk he promises to not only change his heart but also the hearts of others. Instead of destructive magical ability he follows in his brothers footsteps and takes up healing practice. 

In the world he is known as the merchant, the one that tends to give out healing items in exchange for coin but the bulk of his business relies on talismans or charms to ward off the evil plaguing their home. As far as they all know these magically infused charms are powerful and have incredible protective capabilities. He runs a wagon that travels around the entire Underworld.

In the current timeline he more sympathetic and empathetic. The concept of Kill or be Killed is no longer a factor. This is mainly about survival and for the most part the other monsters are aware that working together is their best option though their heightened paranoia (validly founded btw) makes it difficult sometimes. His personality is lighthearted on the surface, making jokes, and being a good guy. In a way he reminds me of Jester who tries not to dwell on what is going on but is fully aware of the situation. Red wears a blindfold in public to keep up appearances but he has no vision or eye light problems.

Boss: After Frisk’s departure from the Underworld, Boss, takes her words to heart. Unlike the majority of Fell Pap characterization he is very soft. When he feels his brother no longer needs his guidance he begins to feel purposeless until he learns that like his brother he has the magical ability for healing. As Red is the charm merchant of the two, Boss is the apothecary. His design harkens to plague doctors back in the 17th century. He grows all his own herbs and spices but he is particularly fond of tea. He also wears a blindfold just like Red but unlike Red he does in fact have damage to his left eye socket where the teal color of his eye lights no longer inhabits. 

The two combined help their fellow monsters as much as they can but in a world of uncertainty how are you supposed to know who to trust? 

Frisk’s Mental Demons: The psychological toll on Frisk is great as she has been told constantly that she made up her time in the Underworld in order to shut herself away into a fantasy world. A world where she had a family… where she is loved and wanted. This happens frequently as the “Doctors” continuously try to refute her experiences or sensations medically.  Every time she goes to sleep in the Underworld she ends up back at the Asylum tied down kicking and screaming. 

She only wakes up again when she is sedated. Rinse and repeat. The question is… is it real? Or rather which is real. The doctors go on to state that her dark state of mind twisted her original concept behind her “family” making them this eldritch styled horror. He also goes onto explain that the reason she is so drawn and close to Red is that it is her “flirting with death”. That she is accepting that outcome because if she continues to resist treatment she will die and the moment she trusts him in her “fantasy” that will be the end. These kinds of situations happen a lot.

There are also instances when the lines between real and fiction are blurred as Frisk's behavior consists apparently of defensive aggression, auditory, visual, and olfactory hallucination, acute paranoia, anxiety, and PTSD. One such example of this is her apparent psychiatrist, Dr. Cyrus Reycroft, who happens to have an uncanny resemblance to her skeletal friend if he was human. 

The Beasts: Felldritch plays off Eldritch horror aka the fear of the unknown. As Frisk reunites with Red she is subjected to a rather concerning conversation in which he explains the situation they are in. He mentions having crossed into an upside down broken and colorless world which drew both himself and his older brother into. It is implied that the two stepped into a dimensional space that was able to then afflict those within their own dimension. Over time the inhabitants begin to go missing and great otherworldly hellish beasts begin appearing. The inhabitants come to the conclusion that these creatures can not afflict you with their corruption if you can not see, hear, or speak in their presence. This mindset has some rather gruesome implications as inhabitants become irrationally desperate mutilating themselves to adhere to the new "See no evil, Speak no evil, Hear no evil”.

The Occult World: The cult as I keep referring to it as is a group of powerful monsters. After the deposition of the King the other monsters begin to become influenced by outside sources. They begin to believe that any fallen humans are the angels of death and because of this they will kill humans on sight, of course, they want to live in denial of their horrible deeds because monster souls are supposed to be made up of love and kindness. Unlike the cult that wishes to break the barrier, the rest want to stay hidden from the beasts above believing that the humans are to blame for all that has happened.

The senses play a huge roll in this idea as the beasts are rumored to be able to use souls like puppets, as in spys, if they are corrupted. It essentially becomes like a hive mind with the main entity being able to see, hear, and speak through those it comes in contact with. It’s no secret that Red is in fact infected by this entity in some form as this is a quote from the fic:

A set of antlers snagged the velvety cape as he worked the metalwork to release its hold on the material around his throat.

Bony fingers tugged on the bunched up fabric and pulled it back, revealing a charcoal grey sweater underneath. It was soft to the touch but just hidden beneath the wool she caught a glimpse of off white colored bone. There were bits and pieces that had been chipped off, knicks, and cuts. Even before they had met Red had some scars especially around his collarbone but that was not what caused her to gasp. His hood remained over his head as if using it to shield his expression from her view, “See?” He flinched when her fingers traced some of the scars.

She didn’t want to appear like she was fearful of what she was witnessing but her fingers quivered, pulling them back toward herself. A soft whimper of a voice left her, “R...Red…” There intertwined with the magically composed vertebrae of his spine were branches. The same deep blackish red wood that plagued this entire forest. It wove itself through the bone engulfing portions of his ribs, twisting it into chilling patterns. If it was allowed to continue its infestation it would crack his ribcage open in a bloodless gaping fissure. She could just make out that gentle white and crimson glow shrouded by the wood. Was that his soul? There was no other explanation.

It looked like the branches were trying to worm their way toward that glowing heart, pierce it, and absorb it into its oily black, almost pulsating bark. That was only one singular aspect of horror that she was now subjected to. Her eyes followed the trail that crept through the bone following the knots and twists that crept up and underneath where his skull attached to his spine.

The grip that he kept on her hand only tightened while the other shifted to pull the hood off his skull. Her eyes widened, reddish-brown irises wavering within a sea of white. A hand rose to land on her mouth, now agape in a silent gasp. She could see the same strange bark that comprised his antlers exited straight out of his skull. There were fractures that radiated from above the temporal portion of his cranium in concentric circles. The same kind of patterning one would see from blunt force trauma. Only this had pushed out the bone externally rather than internally. His sockets no longer contained those ever dulling carmine eye lights as her own eyes traced the hairline cracks along his head. She could not imagine the kind of pain a transformation like that would have caused him. There were places where the bone had tried to heal and suture itself back together, forming around the bark.

Angel of Salvation (a.k.a. The Eldritch Horror)- What the cult has been working toward is summoning their “savior” with the help of the human souls they are bound to. It gives them extra abilities and power. Each within the ranks is bound to a human soul. Their leader ??? wants to use this power to summon an “angel.” It turns out that is actually an unholy amalgamated eldritch beast/god out for blood instead. Humanity will perish and the monsters will take control of the surface once more. That is the reality. (The cult including Red is told otherwise).

[jaskiersvalley]

Jaskier: Necromancer of Emotions

Witchers didn’t have emotions. That was just a common fact. They came, they killed and demanded payment. Rumour had it, they even fucked perfunctorily, devoid of any emotions and going through the motions just the same as any other bodily function.

Enter Jaskier.

His welcome to Kaer Morhen wasn’t exactly a warm one. A few grunts, a nod from Eskel but there wasn’t the excited gathering around a new person. Not everyone was born an extrovert, it was okay. After all, Jaskier could adopt them all then and wouldn’t have to fight someone else for his wolves.

The days that followed were silent save for the clashing of blades and the grunts of exertion as the witchers trained. There was definitely sounds of frustration there and the odd chuff of what Jaskier could almost call laughter. But for the most part, it was more stoic in Kaer Morhen than the nunnery Jaskier had once infiltrated. He wondered whether he could get the same ending - squawking and shrieking when the nuns realised he was in disguise. The image of four witchers flapping their hands and squealing was something that had Jaskier snicker to himself. It seemed Operation Giggles was a go.

Perhaps Operation Giggles was an ambitious project and should have been called Operation Smile or Operation Emotion. Actually, that was much better, the rhyme made Jaskier grin to himself.

He started off small. If it was his turn in the kitchen, he tried to make sure he always had things on the side so when a hungry wolf just so happened to amble past, there was something tasty for them to snag. All absolutely coincidental. Obviously.

The songs Jaskier played were more difficult to gauge. Anything rowdy and crude seemed to have Lambert’s attention even if he only glared while softer ballads often caused Eskel to stare off into the fire with a sad look. Which wasn’t quite the emotions Jaskier was angling for. However, the positive ones seemed more elusive. Almost like they were buried so deep in witcher psyche, they might as well be dead. Which got Jaskier thinking. If the only feelings his wolves knew were annoyance, anger and disappointment, maybe it was the way to deeper buried emotions. So Jaskier got to work.

Composing a song that started off as something attention catching to the point of annoying was quite easy. A merry ditty that could be whistled. The depth of the craft came from leading it into something more melancholy, anger melting into despair, hopelessness and desolation. To pull it from there into something hopeful and up into a cheery jingle again was pure genius, even if Jaskier said so himself. It took him a good week of solid work before he could debut it. At first, it went ignored but the circular nature of his song meant that he could just keep cycling through it without break. He got to watch the witchers get annoyed by it as expected. They followed it down the path into something sedate and contemplative. It almost hurt Jaskier to watch them get lost in the song like that but to offer them a metaphorical hand and boost them up was worth it. One by one, the witchers seemed to climb out of the pit of emotions into something more uplifting.

It wasn’t an obvious, sudden change but Jaskier persisted. Each time he sang the song, each cycle, it seemed to ease something in the witchers. There were small changes to start with. A small flicker of a smile over food. A press of shoulders together where they sat, nudging in playful reassurance but so small it was almost invisible.

The scream of “Lambert, you prick!” one morning was startling, even more so the fact that it was followed up by a harsh bark of a laugh that was cut off as quick as it started. It was the beginning though. Only a week later, Lambert was buttering bread for breakfast when, without looking up, he asked. “does anyone know how to make a whore moan?”

Geralt’s gruff “don’t pay her” earned another gruff snort and Eskel smiled into his drink.

“That works, that works,” Lambert nodded sagely. “I was going to say you wipe your dick on the curtain.”

“That is poor etiquette, son,” Vesemir scolded but Jaskier was certain he could see a thawing around the corners of his firmly set lips.

In a way, Geralt was the easiest to mine for emotions. Jaskier already knew he could get him loose limbed and content so happy was only a couple of steps up from that. The trick was to have him let go. In Kaer Morhen, without the pressure of surviving the Path and surrounded by family, it was probably the easiest opportunity Jaskier would ever have. They were still flushed, catching their breaths and messy when Jaskier pressed closer.

“Are you happy, my darling?” he asked, innocence dripping from his tongue. The grunt he got in return was not the most encouraging but it was better than he’d dared hope for. “What would make your little heart burst with joy?”

It was an evil ploy, getting Geralt to talk at his weakest but Jaskier never claimed to be a good man.

“If the others were happy too. They used to smile and laugh.”

In words, it was so simple. Yet in practice it was so much more complex. All Jaskier could do was promise to help. It seemed though, that the groundwork he’d laid had been worth it because Lambert seemed to be coming on leaps and bounds. He was still caustic and crude but his humour was less of an armour and more because he genuinely enjoyed a bad joke. Sure, his sense of humour could do with a little (a lot) of refining but Jaskier didn’t mind. Even Vesemir seemed to soften and thaw out like a glacier.

The biggest challenge was Eskel. Each time Jaskier felt that he was getting somewhere, it seemed to slip back into oblivion. The hint of a smile on Eskel was immediately hidden, his face dipped and turned away. A hiccough of a laugh was silenced and swallowed down harshly. Nothing Jaskier did seemed to break the control Eskel clung to. It was something he bemoaned to Geralt on a regular basis, only to be grunted and hummed at in return.

There was no way Jaskier could have predicted that he would find assistance on is crusade. Breakfast was finishing up, Vesemir chewing on the end of a sausage thoughtfully when he was given a questioning glance by Lambert and Geralt. At his nod, the two of them stood up and stood at each side of Eskel, staring impassively down at him.

Worried, Eskel looked up. “What?”

“You have a weakness,” Geralt intoned seriously.

“You’re ticklish,” Lambert added and stepped closer, one hand easily jabbing into Eskel’s side.

The change was instantaneous. The usually stoic, solid presence that Eskel projected was shattered as he squirmed away from the tickling fingers. Unfortunately for him, on his other side Geralt stood in wait and got his other side. With a squeal, Eskel slithered under the table and made a break for it. He burst from under it next to Jaskier and dashed from the room. Lambert and Geralt let out a loud whoop and stepped over the table in pursuit.

“Well. That happened.” Jaskier said and looked over to Vesemir who sent him a small, warm smile.

“Thanks to you.” A shrieking laughter and a yowl of “meep” from Eskel went up as he was probably caught. It sounded like a donkey with hiccoughs but it was unmistakably laughter. “It has been decades since laughter was heard in these old halls. I thought the sound had died with their hopes.”

Somewhere in the castle there was a yell of “for fuck’s sake Lambert!” and a fresh volley of laughter. No doubt the game had changed and Lambert was the target after whatever he had done. Or at least it was probably the case until a loud and long “no” from Geralt echoed through the halls. A minute later he was tearing through the dining hall, the other two hot on he heels, laughing. For reasons unknown, Lambert was in a frilly bonnet while Eskel sported a curtain like a cape.

“Children,” Vesemir sighed, sounding all too happy. “They never did grow up, did they?”

[three-gulons-in-a-trenchcoat]

Okay but imagine Sophie and Keefe being forced to hide out in like a little storage closet for hours to avoid the Neverseen or their parents or something. The whole time they have to snuggle up together and he is just relentlessly teasing her because he can sense her emotions and knows she is enjoying the cudddling

The Great Gulon Incident 2.0

words: 3.3k

[notes: this is a long one! really really sorry that this took so long to get out but it's here now! I really like how this one turned out :) although the title isn't very creative heh]

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“We shouldn’t be doing this”

Sophie had mumbled those words under her breath at least five times at this point, but this time it seemed to catch Keefe’s attention. He glanced over at her, a smirk resting across his face.

“Aw come on Foster, live a little! Tell me the last time you pranked someone, especially Forkle.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, eyeing the bag he had slung over his shoulder wearily as it jostled around, “You should be more careful with those.” she hissed, “have you forgotten you're carrying around live, stinky bombs?”

Keefe snickered quietly, making his footsteps softer as they neared the Foxfire gates, “Don’t worry, I know how to handle these guys, I happened to learn a few from the supposedly very handsome boy who caused the Great Gulon Incident.” He winked as he said the last part, and Sophie scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Keefe had hailed her last night, asking if he could leap over for some “important business”. Sophie had been expecting something more along the lines of actually serious but learned that he instead had wanted to snag some of the gulons that were residing at Havenfield.

“And why exactly do you need ten gulons Keefe?” she had asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Keefe resembled the look of a pouting child as he twiddled his thumbs, “It's been ages since I’ve pulled off a good prank Foster,” he whined, “I think I'm going through withdrawal! The least you can let me do is led a few stinkers for the cause.” His eyes resembled a cute baby alicorn, and Sophie felt her resolve slowly chipping away.

Eventually, she threw her arms up in the air, sighing loudly, “Fine” she grumbled, holding up a finger when his face broke out in a wide grin. She tried to ignore the flickering flame in the back of her chest, itching to cause mischief, but ultimately gave in, “You only get five gulons, Keefe…. and I want to come with you.”

Keefe grinned wider, if that was even possible, and quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her to her desk, “I’m so glad you agreed to help the cause Foster!” he brandished a notebook out of thin air, “Now let me show you the plan….”

She was snapped out of her memory when Keefe shoved the sack of gulons at her, nearly knocking her off balance.

“Ah- sorry, I just need to unlock the gate” Keefe quickly apologized as he pulled out what looked like a keycard and swiped it over a sensor next to the doors. He tugged the hood of his black cape over his eyes and face, stepping in front of Sophie slightly as if to block her from view.

“What's wrong?” Sophie asked, frowning when Keefe all but shoved her into the doorway and through the large crystal halls.

“Sorry,” he said again, “There are security cameras hidden behind the large pillars.”

Sophie smirked, “How did you manage to figure that out?” she asked, handing him back the bag of gulons.

Keefe huffed quietly, “I found a map of the security cameras when I was pulling a prank on Dame Alina last year.”

“You really think far ahead in your plans,” Sophie remarked, following Keefe down the hall. She could have sworn his ears turned pink, but that could be a trick of the light.

It wasn’t long until they reached Magnate Leto’s office, and Keefe used another keycard like before in order to get inside. His face seemed to light up slightly as he untied the cord and gently opened the top of the bag. He leaped back quickly, gently tugging on Sophie's arm as the creatures toppled out of the bag, looking very disgruntled.

One of them let out a large burp, emitting a green-gray gas that had Sophie curling her lip and coughing slightly.

“Come on,” Keefe said, tugging her back slightly, “This is the part I wouldn’t stick around for.”

Sophie let Keefe drag her into the hallway, a giddy feeling settling inside her gut as Keefe shut the door, rather loudly.

They locked eyes, and Sophie felt a laugh bubbling up in her throat, Keefe seemed to have the same problem. Sophie clutched her stomach as a giggle made its way up out of her mouth, she quickly slapped a hand over it, her eyes wide. Keefe laughed at her expression, nearly doubling over.

“Come on.” he wheezed, grabbing her hand, making her blush slightly, but she was too busy trying to contain her laughter that she didn’t pay any attention to it.

They raced down the twisting halls, letting their laughter out freely as their footsteps echoed around the crystal halls.

They slowed slightly, still giggling quietly. They didn’t even notice that their hands were still entwined.

Then Sophie heard it.

Footsteps.

They froze at the same time, fear flashed across Sophie's face, and Keefe's eyes darted around, looking for an exit as the footsteps drew closer. They couldn't run towards the footsteps, but they also couldn’t run back where they came, since it would bring them back to the very stinky office.

In desperation, Keefe yanked Sophie towards the first thing he saw as the elf rounded the corner, closing in.

He covered her mouth as she let out a quiet yelp, pressing her against the wall of a supply closet as he dragged the door shut with his foot. They both flinched when it clanged loudly next to their ears.

Sophie locked eyes with Keefe, who has hunched over her rather awkwardly, trying to keep one hand over her mouth, and one over his own to stay silent.

“Are you certain you heard footsteps?” A voice asked, and Sophie's eyes widened at the same time as Keefe's. They knew that voice.

“I also heard laughter.” Lady Zillah said, and Sophie could hear her walk closer towards their door, the shadow underneath the crack growing larger. She glanced at Keefe, who had panic pacing in his eyes.

“Maybe you just thought you heard something,” Tam said through a yawn, making the shadow stop, “I mean, it's almost dawn, shouldn't we be locking up for the night aways? I’m getting pretty tired.”

Lady Zillah sighed, and Sophie inhaled sharply when the shadow grew slightly closer.

The mentor turned away, “Fine, but we are practicing even more tomorrow night got it?” Sophie breathed out harshly, hearing Keefe do the same.

“Whatever,” Tam grumbled as the footsteps silently retreated deeper into the school, presumably towards the gates.

Keefe finally let his hands fall away from both of their faces and Sophie took a deep breath of air, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the darkness.

“That was close.” They both said at the same time.

Keefe slightly huffed with laughter, nudging past Sophie to get to the door, “We’re lucky we weren't caught” he admitted as he reached for the handle, “It would've been worse than The Great Gulon Incident.”

“Ah, so are you finally admitting that you were the one who did it, Keefe?” Sophie asked teasingly.

She waited for him to reply, but he stood frozen, his hand on the doorknob.

“What's wrong?” Sophie asked, just now noticing how small the supply cabinet seemed. A bad feel brewed in her gut.

Keefe turned slowly, slight panic, with a little bit of guilt etched across his face as he sucked in a breath, “We may or may not be locked in a supply closet.”

Sophie felt her face drop, and she rushed past Keefe (which only took about a step) and tried to turn the doorknob, but to no avail.

She let out a puff of laughter, partially disbelief, that she had somehow ended up in this situation, with Keefe of all people.

“You alright there Foster?” Keefe asked, his breath ghosting along her neck, making her shiver.

She remembered hearing about a game that humans would play. Seven Minutes in Heaven, where they would lock two people in a closet like the one they were currently stuck in, and in seven minutes those two people could do anything they wanted until the time was up.

She pushed the thought out of her mind quickly before Keefe could notice her shift in emotions. He raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something.

“Can’t we just bust down the door with telekinesis?” Sophie said quickly, her voice slightly more high-pitched than usual. She cleared her throat, her stomach dropping when Keefe shook his head.

“Two things,” Keefe said, holding up his hand with one finger raised,“ One, these doors are made of a crazy strong metal, like, as thick as the doors at Luminaria, that's why it was so loud when it shut, and before you ask, no, I have no idea why the doors are so thick, they just are.”

“Second,” he said, holding up a second finger, “The security here recognizes when a door is unlocked, or when a door is, ya know, exploded from the inside.” he mimed an explosion complete with sound effects and Sophie rolled her eyes.

It fell silent, and Sophie stared at the ground, “So” she hedged, “We can’t get out of here.”

Keefe shook his head, “Not until morning, all of the doors unlocked at around six, which is normally when all the mentors arrive.”

Sophie dragged a hand down her face, trying to ignore the panic and sudden other emotion she was feeling.

Embarrassment maybe? No, that didn't seem right, it seemed almost fluttery, and she tried to stamp out the feeling before Keefe felt it, but she saw his eyes flicker.

She swallowed thickly.

“Are you sure?” her voice squeaked slightly, and she cleared her throat quickly.

Keefe's eyes seemed to glow slightly in the dim light, and it was then that she realized how small the supply closet was. Sophie and Keefe's feet were touching, even though they were on opposite walls.

“Oh, I'm sure,” his voice had dropped an octave, and Sophie felt her cheeks flush. He moved slightly, pushing himself off the wall and positioning his leg in between hers as he leaned next to her ear, caging her in with his elbows braced against the wall behind her, “What's wrong, Foster? I’d say you almost seem nervous.” his tone was different, deeper, it lacked its usual teasing tone.

Sophie found it difficult to breathe, and when she did take a shaky breath, it didn’t help, because all she got was a lung full of Keefe.

He smelled cool and minty, almost like the peppermint bark that her human family used to make around the holidays, with a hint of the ocean, no doubt from the white foam waves that he said he swam in every morning. Sophie suddenly felt herself imagining what he would look like after swimming in the water, with his hair flat against his head, and sweat curling around his jawline and his shirtless chest-

STOP! her mind screamed, forcing herself to shred the image from her brain and frantically trying to stop her emotions from getting even more out of control.

She could feel his breath hot against her neck and she shivered as she felt his lips curl into a sly grin. She forced her eyes to look dead at the wall in front of her, certain that if she glanced at Keefe, things would definitely go south, not that Sophie would be complaining-

Stop. her mind growled again, more firmly, as if bating this other, more feral Sophie with a wooden bat into a dark corner of her mind. Shoo! Come out later, when you’re not stuck in a supply closet with one of your closest friends who can also tell what you’re feeling at all times.

Keefe's right hand came up to her hip, and she shivered again, partially from well, the fact that his hand was on her fucking hip, and partially because the supply closet was getting really cold.

“Are you cold?” Keefe's voice was right next to her ear, allowing her to hear that he had a deep timbre to his tone that Sophie had never noticed. And she’d be lying if it didn’t make her legs feel like they turned to jello.

“Y-yeah.” She breathed, hating how she stammered.

Keefe pulled away from her, and she naively thought that it would better, now that she could actually breathe and not inhale his intoxicating scent.

But oh how she was wrong.

Because when Keefe pulled away, she could see his eyes, and his jaw, and his biceps, and his lips, and she hated how her eyes quickly dropped to his lips. But could you really blame her?

Yeah, feral Sophie got another smack with the bat.

She shook her head, pulling away slightly as Keefe removed his hands from the sides of her head. He kept his leg between her thighs, and Sophie pretended not to notice as she shivered again, hoping the cold could be blamed for the pink on her cheeks.

“I told you to bring a cape, Foster.” The teasing tone was back and Keefe finally, finally, took a step back, removing his leg from between hers.

She actually felt like she could breathe again.

“I didn’t think we would get stuck in a freezing supply closet.” Sophie retorted, bringing her hands around her chest, looking away.

Keefe sighed softly, and Sophie glanced at him right as he draped his cloak over her shoulders, pinning it in place with her Ruewen crest that she carried everywhere, even if she wasn’t wearing a cape.

Keefe said something after that, but it was drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Because if she thought that Keefe leaning over her in his scent was overwhelming, she severely underestimated what being wrapped in his cloak would do to her.

She didn’t realize what she was doing until she did it. Bringing the hood to her nose, she took a deep whiff, savoring what his scent felt like in her nose. And wow, she had never felt this safe before.

She snapped out of it suddenly. God Sophie, what are you doing? furiously trying to act like she was trying to warm her nose and not try to sniff his cape like a fucking weirdo.

She glanced at him.

He stared at her, a mixture of amusement and- was that almost pride? No, it couldn’t be that. Sophie felt her face turn pinker. To get away from her mounting embarrassment, She chose to look away from what was causing it.

“W-Why are the supply closets so cold at night?” she asked, blaming the slight stumble in her words as an act of the cold as she averted her eyes from his piercing blue ones.

Keefe blinked, wrapping his arms around himself right as Sophie realized how cold she must have just made him.

“Foxfire gets cold at night normally, so it's not like I didn’t expect this, which is again, why I told you to bring a cape.” he gave her a pointed look and Sophie scoffed.

She was about to reply when a full-body shiver racked Keefe's torso, making him clench his teeth.

She frowned, beginning to unclasp her crest from the cloak.

“You don’t have to-”

Keefe was cut off when Sophie stepped forward and flung half of the cloak over his shoulders. Sure it was slightly cramped, and it caused Sophie to be squished into Keefe's shoulder, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.

Keefe stood stiff for a moment, then very gingerly wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her slightly closer and causing the cloak to cover her more. He bent his legs, tugging her down slightly so that they were now sitting on the floor, and unfortunately for Sophie’s poor little heart, in a very compromising position.

Sophie was sure her face was practically maroon as she awkwardly straddled Keefe’s lap, and she looked anywhere but him as he readjusted the cloak.

“You can turn around if you want,” Keefe said softly, his ears slightly pink, “It would probably help the cloak to cover you better.”

Sophie nodded mutely, shifting around in the blond's lap until she was sitting comfortably against his chest, her racing heart didn’t slow down as Keefe stretched out his legs, almost touching the other wall, and let her do the same until they were practically miming the same position.

Keefe's hands were still on her hips, and she could feel her skin burning from underneath the thin fabric of her tunic.

“Is this ok?” Keefe asked, his voice was softer then she had ever heard, and he sounded slightly unsure of himself.

“Yeah, this is fine.” granted, it came out a little more breathy than Sophie was hoping for, but hopefully Keefe couldn't feel how fast her heart was still pounding in her chest.

But oh how he could.

Keefe was eternally grateful that Foster didn’t manifest as an empath. Because if she did, he would be screwed.

His heart felt like a stampede of mastodons as Foster shifted again, bringing her legs slightly closers to her lap, which caused her to fall further into Keefe's torso.

Over the years of living with his father, Keefe had learned how to hide his emotions behind false smiles or jokes, and right now he was grateful that Foster didn’t turn behind to look at him. And he prayed to whatever god was up there, that she couldn’t feel his hands shaking as he readjusted the cloak again, shamelessly giving her more of the fabric for her to curl closer into.

And he’d be lying if he wasn’t absolutely preening at the way Foster looked in his cloak. Pride swelling in his chest as she sighed slightly, seeming to get over her initial embarrassment and burrow into the folds of the black coak.

Of course, there was the other part of his brain, which was screaming over and over, HOLY FUCK YOUR CRUSH IS IN YOUR LAP THIS IS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME CHANCE WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STARING GO KISS HER YOU ABSOLUTE DUMBAS-

“Keefe?”

He hummed slightly, and Sophie could feel the vibrations from where she was curled on his lap.

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck in here?”

He shrugged,“ at least for a couple more hours I’d guess.”

She felt his head lean forward, and she squeaked when his hands came around her hips instead of tucked into his side. He hesitated for a second, and she felt her face burn, trying to ignore the fact that they would be in this position for a few more hours.

Suddenly she felt his chin on her shoulder. His breath fanned across her right ear and cheek. Sophie fought not to shiver because she doubted Keefe would believe her if she told him she was still cold.

“Why?” Keefe questioned, and Sophie could hear the timbre of his voice again, vibrating next to her ear.

A voice in the back of her mind told her that she should be on the other side of the room, frantically trying to hide her flustered emotions from the empath, but…

She sighed, leaning her head against his, feeling his eyelashes flutter next to her cheek as she closed her eyes, “Just wondering.” she mumbled, a small smile creeping onto her face as Keefe pulled her slightly closer under the cloak.

Keefe echoed her smile, tugging her back against his chest and bringing his hands across hers. A slight blush tinged his cheeks, but he could feel her emotions against his chest, and they were…

Flustered, yeah. But also… calm, and almost, soft.

Exhaustion pawed at the teens. And Sophie found herself burrowing further into Keefe's chest. And Keefe found himself curling closer into Sophie.

They could deal with the aftermath of this prank later. Right now? They were comfortable, warm, and happy.

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[sissytobitch10seconds]

PRIDE!

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy Summary: Alex thought that he was going to spend a nice afternoon with his partners at Seattle Pride festival, even if that had to be around their busy hospital schedules. He ended up getting reunited with them after getting a bit more than he bargained for, but they do get their afternoon together in the end. Warnings: Mentions of past injuries, mentions of disabilities, mentions of graphic wounds, hate crimes, bombing, implied/referenced character death, trans characters Word Count: 5,466 Ship(s): George O’Malley/Izzie Stevens/Alex Karev

Archive link!

The noise of the festival was a lot different than the noise of the hospital, which he was used to. There were no phones ringing, no people crying, and the shouting came with the sound of bell-like laughter instead of urgency and desperation. He could hear music from the band playing on the stage at the other end of the festival emanating over the entire venue.

Colors danced together and clashed in the most perfect way. Almost every booth had a pride flag of some kind hanging in the back behind the people and tables. Most of them had the standard inclusivity flag or the rainbow flag. The second most popular was the trans flag, and then bi and pan following after that. The GSAs all had the most flags decorating them, but they had nothing on the pride organization that had made the entire event and parade happen in the first place.

All kinds of people were wandering from booth to booth and hanging out with each other under the shade of the trees a few feet from where the main hustle and bustle was happening. There were parents awkwardly trailing behind gaggles of kids that couldn't be much older than twelve. There were more than enough high schoolers with their hands, faces, and shirts painted with all kinds of pride colors wearing flags as capes (though Alex can't really say much about that since he's doing the exact same thing). There are some people dressed in leather, from the old guard that helped get them the rights that they have now. There are mothers in the Mama Dragons booth that are wandering around to give hugs to the young teenagers running around wreaking havoc.

He paused when he heard someone calling to him from somewhere by the parking lot that the parade had stopped in not half an hour ago, "Hey Karev, I'm heading back to Mercy West. Want me to give you a ride back to Seattle Grace so I can put it off and blame traffic?" one of the doctors that he walked with during the parade offered. They had been walking with a float for doctors that were LGBT in some way, to show others that there were both people that accepted them as who they are but people that were just like them in the medical field.

"No thanks, man. My partners will be back in a couple hours when he finishes up the case he got paged for. We asked for this day off of work like two months ago and we're not going to let it go to waste now," Alex shook his head. 

"Alright, if you're sure. It was good seeing you, man," the other doctor waved before he walked back into the parking lot and to his car.

Alex glanced out over the crowd again before he decided that he was going to have some fun while he waited for George and Izzie to finish up at the hospital. The other man had been paged almost halfway through the parade, which meant that Alex had to walk half of it by himself while his partner went to tend to one of his patients. Izzie had to leave as soon as they finished walking so that she could scrub in on one of the big surgeries she had managed to snag. She was going to be coming back way later than their boyfriend. 

He wandered to some of the food vendors and got something to eat before he found an unoccupied tree and settled in to people-watch. He glanced down at his phone to see if his boyfriend had told him anything about his estimated time of arrival. Before he had the chance to really see, something happened.

A noise that blasted out his hearing and caused a ringing in both of his eardrums for at least a minute afterwards echoed through the entire venue. There was a huge blast of heat and force that pressed him up against the back of the tree. He felt something sharp and large peirce the flesh of his arm and send shocks of pain swelling down to his fingers and into his chest. He gasped as he was forced to drop his phone because of it.

Slowly his eyesight and hearing began to return to him and he realized that something horrifically horrible had just happened. People were screaming and crying for their loved ones and out of pain.

Immediately he switched into doctor mode. He stood up and began to rush over to the people that were closest to him. On the other side of the venue, the EMTs that were required by the city to be there were working their way through the people closest to them. "I'm going to help you out, okay? My name is Dr. Karev," he introduced himself as he lifted up the tent that had fallen on them when the bomb went off. 

"What happened?" they asked, their eyes clamped shut. "My stomach hurts, really bad."

He nodded and then palpated their stomach. He was remembering back to when he had helped with the ferry boat incident and everything that he had done there. He used a piece of the broken plastic from the pop-up to cut the pride flag that he was wearing so that he could use the green, yellow and red sections. He stuck the sharp plastic into his pants pockets so that he could use it later as needed. 

"Am I dying?" they mumbled hoarsely, blinking at him.

"You're definitely not dying," he shook his head. "You might have some bruising on some internal organs but I can't feel any injuries or bleeding."

"Not bleeding is good. Yeah, that's good," they nodded. "Um, can I get up and find my little brother? My parents let me bring him but I think… he got away from me for a little bit to pet someone's dog and then- and then-"

Alex placed his hand under their back and their legs to pick them up. Once he was up he glanced around to see the carnage all around him. There were pieces of the cement stage that the band had been performing on everywhere, as well as sharp pieces of tents and display stands sticking up out of the ground and people. Blood was soaking into the colorful array of fabrics to make them look a dingy red/brown color.

"I'll look for him as best I can, okay? I need you to breathe and stay calm. If you have your phone with you then you should call your parents and tell them what happened and that you're okay. They should also take you to the hospital to get checked out for sure," he said, his voice level and calm. He found a spot in the grass a few yards away from where he had been eating when the bomb went off and laid them down against the tree.

He returned back to the carnage. With every person that he went to, he did his best to try and help their injuries and get them stabilized as best he could without any equipment. They were shaking, crying, and were generally upset. The EMTs were doing their best to get everyone properly marked and several ambulances had already arrived to take the majorly injured people away. Seattle Pride had been growing and growing with every year, but there were so many people here that were hurt.

The more that he worked the more that he noticed the sharp stabbing pain that was increasing in his shoulder blade. Eventually he began to notice that there was blood leaking down his arm and dripping onto the patients he was trying to treat. He was also feeling a little lightheaded, but he knew that he couldn't stop working. The medical team from the hospital hadn't been able to respond yet since the bomb squad had to check for any other explosives.

Alex gave a small grunt as he reached behind him with his good hand and felt a piece of metal that he could wrap his hand around with his fingers just barely brushing up against the edge of his palm and arm. It felt hard and cold and slippery with his blood. He released it before he impulsively removed it since he didn't know what it was touching inside of him. Instead, he used the shattered piece of PVC pipe to cut away the long purple strand of fabric from his pride flag and made a makeshift bandage out of it around his shoulder and arm before he continued on with his self-assigned mission.

He turned around a little too quickly and felt stars dance across his vision. He could hear someone weakly crying, "Help! Please."

"Hey, I'm going to help you," he informed the person underneath the half broken wooden stand from a shirt-shop. He was able to lift the fabric of the tent just enough to see that the young woman was positioned underneath the shelf in such a way that she wouldn't be hurt if he moved it. He placed his hands on one side of it and then lifted while standing so he had some momentum. He was able to stand the shelf up and then move around it so that he was in the way of it if it decided to fall over again. "Hey, my name's Dr. Karev. Can you tell me your name?" 

"Stacey," she gasped out. She had a wound to her head that was leaking into her blue-dyed hair. There was something a lot more concerning on her abdomen. "My stomach hurts. Is that okay?"

"I'm going to make you as okay as I can," he replied. "Can I lift up your shirt so that I can see that wound a little better?"

"Yeah, okay," she nodded. She reached down and pulled it up so that her stomach was exposed to him. Part of her abdomen was completely missing, exposing organs to the outside world.

"I've gotta find something to cover that up with," he muttered. He glanced around and found one of the shirts inside of an air tight bag. He ripped it open and then pressed the fabric to her sternum to stop the profuse bleeding. "Hey! I need a little bit of help over here!"

One of the EMTs looked up and tried his best to pick his way through the wreckage. "I've seen you around helping out. What's going on?"

"I need an ambulance to take me back to Seattle Grace right away. She's missing a huge chunk of muscle and has organs exposed to the outside world. She's also probably going to need a huge blood transfusion as soon as she gets there," he explained, not caring about the pain that was ripping through his own muscles and into his left hand due to the metal pipe in his shoulder.

The paramedic nodded and then rushed off to get someone to come and help. They were able to come with one of the mobile stretchers. Alex carefully stood up as they lifted Stacey onto it. They had to move slowly despite the dire circumstances because he couldn't risk not applying the same amount of level pressure to such a risky area. "I don't want to die, I don't want to die," the woman began to cry, shaking her head. "I was just barely brave enough to ask out my crushes. They're supposed to meet me here!"

"You might have to reschedule your meetup time with them, but you're going to get to see them again," Alex soothed. He then redirected the conversation to keep her calm. "You know, I'm polyamorous too. I've got a boyfriend and a girlfriend that marched with me in the parade but they had to go back to the hospital."

He told her almost everything about Izzie and George, per her request to keep her from worrying about her own mortality. The ambulance sped away to the hospital where the doctors that she now knew almost everything about would save her life.

---

"There's a trauma coming in?" George asked as he jogged out to the ambulance docking station. He let his arms fall down by his sides after he finished tying the yellow disposable scrubs around his neck.

"Apparently a bombing," Callie nodded. Things between him and his ex-wife were a little tumultuous still, but they were beginning to become more civil around each other especially where work was concerned.

"A bombing?" he frowned and shook his head a little bit. Their heads both snapped up as the telltale sirens of an ambulance shot through the open space. The flashing lights followed quickly after and they were rushed into work. They got up to the doors and unlatched them just as the EMT inside pushed it open so that they could wheel out the stretcher.

The EMT told them about the case as they worked on getting the poor individual into the hospital. "Jane Doe, about twenty five years old with a massive head trauma and a side wound."

"Get her into Trauma One!" Dr. Hunt called as he motioned for George to hop on the case with him. "When we're in there we'll have someone page Shepherd."

"Got it," George nodded as he grabbed the side of the gurney and began to push it into the hospital and the trauma room that they needed. Once they got that he grabbed his pen light out of his pocket and checked the pupil dilation of the patient. He felt all of the air leave his lungs as he saw the shirt, once multi-colored, now soaked in blood, that the staff at the pride event he had just come from had been wearing.

He stopped and stepped off of the side of the bed, blinking a few times. "Dr. O'Malley?" Dr. Hunt asked as he began to clean the wound on her head.

When he spoke his voice was hoarse and awkward, "The bombing… did someone blow up Seattle Pride Festival?"

"Does it matter? Just help me get this patient stabilized," Hunt scoffed as he went back to work on the head wound.

George clamped his mouth shut and went to work. He helped the trauma doctor get each of the new arrivals stabilized and then sent away for their tests for what felt like hours but was really only about forty five minutes. By that time Izzie had finished with the cardio surgery she had been helping with; he was an emotional wreck that was barely contained.

"What's going on? I scrubbed out early and let one of the interns close because I heard that there was a massive trauma," Izzie said as she jogged over to him, placing a familiar hand in the small of his back. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull as she looked around and saw all of the victims of the accident. "Woah… this is like the ferry boat all over again."

"It's worse," he mumbled. 

"Worse?" she asked as they were shepherded from one side of the room to another to wait for the next ambulance to arrive.

Before he had the chance to explain anything to her, Bailey walked past them both so that she was standing next to them in the docking bay. "How are you two holding up? It can't be easy, imagining that you could have been one of the people coming in."

"What?" Izzie asked, casting a glance over to her boyfriend and then looking directly back to the incoming flashing lights of the ambulance. "They bombed Pride…?"

George winced and placed a hand on her back. "Iz, I'm sure that he's fine," he reassured her.

"He?" Bailey asked, raising a brow at them both.

"I came back to check on a patient and Izzie had a surgery that she wanted to be able to scrub in on. Alex stayed at Pride because we were going to meet back up with him and hang out where we would finally fit in but…" he clamped his mouth shut as he saw the tears sparkling in his girlfriend's eyes. 

"Have you tried to call his cell?" she asked, grasping at her pockets only to remember that she had left her phone down in her locker like she always did at the hospital. She didn't like being distracted by it.

George shook his head. "Hunt has had me helping on traumas since they began to get the victims back here. I'm sure he's fine, Iz," his voice was desperate and pleading. It was obvious to anyone listening that he was also saying this to reassure himself that their boyfriend was okay.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea that Karev was still at the event. I'm sure that he'll come by and start helping soon. He might even be here already," Bailey reached out and rubbed Izzie's arm to try and help comfort her before she glanced at George to make sure that he was okay too.

Neither of them really had the chance to process that their boyfriend could be gravely hurt and being taken to a hospital that they didn't trust, or gravely hurt and bleeding out all alone without them, or even dead, before they had to continue their jobs. The ambulances kept coming and there were so many people coming to them that they had to stay on top of the ER to get everyone stabilized and sent up to the speciality that they needed to be at.

Izzie had a moment to breathe and caught the intern that had been assigned to family duty. They were using the system that Alex had come up with when they had been dealing with the ferry boat accident. The intern had a handful of polaroid pictures and a list of names in the other. A couple of the other interns and the handful or orderlies that they could spare running family members either to smaller waiting rooms on different floors where their family were or directly to the rooms that their loved ones were in. She grasped at the intern's arm for a moment as she tried to get her message out before she was dragged away again.

"I need you to try and call-" she paused and then moved away from the intern just as the doors opened. She rushed over to the gurney but then stopped a yard or two away as the face of the man that she had fallen in love with came into view. He wasn't the one coming out of the ambulance, thankfully, but he was soaked in blood.

"I have a massive chest injury and exposed organs. I need a cardio consult soon and Sloan to come and figure out how to stitch this skin back together!" Alex called out from where he was applying pressure to the wound.

The plastic surgeon had been attending to burns on someone else and left Meredith to finish the job as he rushed over. "What seems to be the issue?" He tried to peak under the shirt but Alex almost growled at him.

"She has her organs exposed. I can't move my hands because I have to apply pressure to the wound. We need to get her hung up on blood because she's already lost a bunch and she's going to lose more when I move," he explained, obviously exhausted. His skin was pale and chalky.

"Right. Get her to any open OR and prep them both as best you can. Infection is probably going to be the least of her worries once we get her in there," Sloan said as he pointed to two interns and a nurse that were waiting to be able to help with the situation.

They quickly rushed forward and replaced the EMTs so that they could go back out to their ambulance and bring more emergencies to the hospital. The gurney was then hurried through the ER and to the elevator while the nurse rushed off to get the blood and saline for the patient.

Izzie turned and watched as they sped away, unable to reach out to touch her boyfriend and make sure that he was real. She had already lost one partner and she knew that she wouldn't make it through losing another one. Her heart leaped into her chest as she saw the purple fabric that was wrapped around his shoulder and what it was holding in place.

"Was that Alex?" George asked as he jogged over to her, changing into another one of the disposable yellow gowns so that he could help another patient. The color drained from his face. "Was that-"

"Does Karev have a pole sticking out of his shoulder?" Cristina asked as she paused and watched the gurney as it disappeared around the corner.

The blond just nodded, turning and moving to finish helping the patient she had been assigned to. She tried her best to keep a smile on her face and be reassuring, but half of her mind was on procedure and the other half was on worrying about her boyfriend and if he would end up being okay even after coming this far.

---

Alex didn't move a muscle as he applied just enough pressure to keep the young patient from bleeding out but not enough to seriously bruise any of her organs. People moved around him as they got her draped and cleaned up as well as they could. He had a surgical drape wrapped around him by one of the interns. "Uh, Dr. Karev…?" she asked, her voice small and nervous.

"Don't. Mention. It," he growled as he turned to look at her. She nodded and continued to tie the gown around him. She then got the mask on him and the cap. He stood there the entire time that he waited for the rest of the surgical team to file in and assess as much of the damage as they could. He kept the patient calm until the anesthesiologist was able to put her under. They gave her IV fluids, some pain medication, and preemptively hung a couple extra units of blood."

Sloan walked into the operating theater and over to the side of the bed where he was going to have the help of Dr. Bailey in sewing the girl up. Bailey would be able to make sure that she didn't bleed out and Sloan would have a good shot at getting her skin back together without too much scarring. "Your partners are very worried about you, you know," Bailey chided before she saw the pole sticking out of his back. 

"Karev, what on Earth?" she asked as she got up into his position.

"I'm fine. We need to help Stacey right now," he shook his head.

"You have a pole sticking out of your back, Dr. Karev. Can you explain to me how that is fine?" Sloan asked, standing on the opposite table of the doctor.

"I handled it when I was at the scene. I'm fine," he shrugged, his natural motion when he was having a conversation like this, and then his vision went black for a moment and his ears began to ring just like they had after the bomb went off.

The first thing that he heard when he came back was the plastic surgeon announcing to the room, "Would someone be willing to catch this doctor, who is fine, when he finishes applying pressure with his wounded arm?"

"I won't need to be caught. I'll just walk down to trauma and have them look at it when they're done with the victims," he shook his head again to try and keep himself on his feet.

Bailey snorted, "I hate to break it to you, you stupid idiot, but you are a victim of the bombing!"

"Whatever, can we just get back to work on Stacey please?" Alex asked as he looked down to the patient again.

"Fine. Bailey, ready?" Sloan asked. The doctor had two clamps in her hands as she was ready to be able to clamp any major arteries that were bleeding from the wound. She gave him a nod. Sloan then looked back to Alex, "I want you to take off all the pressure and take the shirt with you in three, two, one."

Alex immediately did what he was told and removed his hands, clasping the shirt in them, when the doctor got down to the last number. He felt something shift in his shoulder and let out a pained scream. His eyes rolled back into his head as his entire body collapsed down into the waiting arms of the intern that had scrubbed him in.

---

"We've got everyone, right?" George asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to pace around. He had been on his feet for the last several hours and had assisted in more surgeries that day than he had in the last week. Normally he was running around while trying to keep his interns in check and keeping track of patients. Today he had been working in trauma and following through with the treatment of the bombing victims. 

Izzie nodded wordlessly. She had helped just as much as George had, but had basically shut down when they saw their boyfriend disappear and then not gotten any news about him for the rest of their very, very long shift.

He paused and turned to see her. His heart shattered when he saw the way that she was staring down at her hands. They had lost a couple of the victims who had been too close to the bomb or the stage, but they had saved the majority. He offered her his hand. "Come on, Iz. We're going to get some food and sit out in the waiting room until someone gives us news. And they will."

She stared at his hand for thirty seconds or so before she took it. She threaded their fingers together as they walked down to the cafeteria. They both got a coffee and a sandwich to share before they moved down to the waiting area with all of the other family members of the victims. 

As soon as they stepped foot into the room there was a swarm of people surging up from their seats and towards them. Their voices all clamored over each other as they showed pictures of their loved ones to the doctors and demanded to know how patients were. George tried a couple of times in vain to tell everyone quietly that they weren't here to give news and they didn't know anything, but no one was listening. Eventually he resorted to shouting, "Hey!" 

Finally all of the voices faded back into nothing, and they all just stared at the duo. "We're not doctors right now. Our boyfriend was involved in the bombing too, and so we're waiting to hear news about him. I'm sorry that we don't know anything about your loved ones, but I'm sure there will be updates soon," he said. There was murmuring among the crowd, most of them disappointed and still upset, as they dispersed and went back to sitting around and waiting.

George and Izzie found a bench near one of the windows. They sat down on it while facing each other and each had half of the sandwich and their coffee as they watched the June rain pouring down on the asphalt. It was early morning now, and there were rays of sun beginning to emerge from around the clouds. Neither of them were willing to say anything, too worried that words sent out into the atmosphere would result in the news that their boyfriend was dead.

Interns came out and spoke to each of the family members to update them now that things in the hospital were beginning to calm down. It felt like ages and ages had gone by before Bailey finally walked through the doors leading into the ER and then over to them. "I have news."

"Please tell me he's not dead," Izzie croaked as tears that had been bubbling just under the surface rushed past her eyes and down her face.

"Is he okay? He didn't lose too much blood, did he? I heard the interns saying that they could barely even get him to CT before he started crashing," George asked, almost springing up from the bench to face the doctor.

She put her hands up and they both went silent. "The pole was pretty deep in there and had damaged the bone. Torres was able to fix him up and he may have nerve damage or limited motion in that arm but he'll be able to use it just fine. He did lose a lot, and I mean a lot of blood. We were able to get most of it replenished but it's likely that he's going to be anemic for a little while. He should be waking up from anesthesia now," she explained.

Both of the doctors sprang up and rushed through the hospital like they were responding to a code before they got to his room. Izzie went to the left side of the bed and George went to the right. He grabbed Alex's hand and threaded their fingers together while the female resident had to place her arm over his hand since she got his injured side. They watched the monitors that he was hooked up to for any change in the vital signs.

"Whas goin on?" Alex slurred as his eyes fluttered a couple of times while he woke up.

"You're okay!" Izzie nearly shrieked as she stood up. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips.

When she pulled away, he giggled. He was dopey from the pain meds that he had been given. "I like kissing you. What happened?"

George laughed and got up on the bed so that he was sitting next to his boyfriend. He cupped the side of Alex's face where Izzie wasn't touching before he leaned in and placed a kiss of his own on the other man's face. "You don't remember?"

"You're both kissing me and it's making my brain feel all fuzzy," Alex yawned and then leaned forward for another peck. 

"Alex, tell us what you remember," Izzie said as she carefully wrapped her hand around his. George moved back to his seat as well so that they weren't both distracting him from answering.

"I was in surgery and then I was dreaming about you," he shrugged with one shoulder since the other one was numbed beyond movement. "It was nice. You were dressed in white and had flowers in your hair. It was longer though."

"That sounds really nice, sweetie," Izzie smiled. "I'll be sure to make that happen one day, okay?"

George ran his thumb over the back of the other man's knuckles. "You were involved in a really big accident at Pride and helped a bunch of people."

"I remember that," Alex nodded. "I wanna know what happened after I let go of Stacey's organs."

"Bailey said that you passed out from blood loss," Izzie replied. "You had that wound for a long time, but Callie helped get you all fixed up."

"You scared us pretty bad, sweetheart," George laughed a little.

"Worse than the time that George's top surgery took an hour longer than expected because he didn't tell us he went in later," Izzie laughed dryly.

The other resident felt his cheeks blaze of life. "I'm still sorry about that."

"I won't scare you again," Alex shook his head. "You're both too attractive for that. I gotta make sure that my dream wedding can happen."

"You're so doped up," George snorted. All of the adrenaline and stress of the day was beginning to get to him. He carefully got up onto the bed so that his arms were wrapped around Alex's and his head was pressed up against the side of his boyfriend's. He was unable to stop the tears from leaking down his face and onto his pillow as he cried steadily.

"No, no, don't do that," Alex whispered as he turned over and kissed him gently. "I'm okay. You don't have to cry."

"We're crying because you're okay. We're relieved, baby," Izzie sniffled as she climbed up onto the end of the bed so she was sitting cross legged and touching both of their legs. "We love you so much, Alex."

"So much," George echoed as he met his boyfriend's lips in a gentle kiss.

"Love you both too," he grinned. "I got to tell my patient all about you guys. 'M proud you chose me to be your partner."

[miceenscene]

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 2.2k / 4.9k (so far)

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings: canon-typical violence

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Two: The Question

Din Djarin did not have a Match.

Din Djarin did not have a Match.

He couldn’t.

How, why didn’t matter…

He just couldn’t.

Right?

This Woman with a small dark spot high on her cheekbone and finely calloused hands and wearing his shirt couldn’t be his Match.

She just… couldn’t.

It was just coincidence that he was pulled into her orbit, like a comet desperately seeking gravitational equilibrium.

And it was coincidence that she apparently felt the same. Even foggy as she was.

She still had not said a word, did not reply or even react when addressed, but she always floated in Din’s direction when he stepped away.

Which wasn’t very often.

The urge, or ‘bond’ as the Armorer called it, was only satisfied if she was near.

The pair of them were something of a side-show in the covert for the evening.

Even through beskar and dark visors, gazes felt heavy on Din’s shoulders.

Outside the covert, curiosity – whether hostile or benign – was expected.

But here? Never before.

He thought about leaving. But as confused as she was, dragging her, barefoot, back through the streets of Nevarro, even just to the ship seemed unwise.

So Din found a spare room in the covert–The Woman following in his wake, fingers still threaded with his.

It was barely more than a door and two stone benches that could pass for beds if needed. But solitude was necessary for his kind.

He found himself hoping she’d speak once they were alone.

She didn’t.

But she did grow tired before too long. Not surprising given her recent clinic visit.

“You can sleep here,” he said, gesturing to one of the benches embedded in the wall.

She did not reply. Or move.

He was not used to being the verbose one.

“Here.” He offered her his cape, threadbare at the bottom but warm enough. She took it, thumbs brushing across the fabric.

Nodding once, he moved for the door.

She followed.

“You need to sleep. I’ll be outside.”

He stepped back and she stepped forward.

“No–” he huffed in minor annoyance. Turning her around by the shoulders, he guided her to one of the benches and sat her down. Gently by firmly. “Sleep. ...Please.”

He stepped back once. Twice. She didn’t move.

On the third step, she made to rise, but his hand outstretched stopped her.

He at least made it to the door before she stood back up.

He surrendered with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay here.” Sitting down on the opposite bench from her. “Satisfied?”

She apparently wasn’t as she drifted to sit on the bench, hand fitting into his as she curled up next to him.

A beskar pauldron couldn’t have been a comfortable pillow, but it might as well have been down-filled silk for as quickly as she dropped off.

He waited an hour, then two, just to be absolutely certain she was completely asleep, listening to her gentle breathing turn deeper and slower. Then he eased her off his shoulder to lie down, leaving his cape for her blanket.

She didn’t stir as he headed to leave the room, the door hissing open in front of him.

Stay.

A fist pressed to the front of his helmet for a minute in frustration.

Stay.

There’d be no peace if he resisted.

So he sat down in the furthest corner of the room from her, tipping his helmet back to rest in the crook of the walls.

Her sleeping form was the last thing he saw as his eyes drifted shut.

But when they opened a few hours later, the bench was empty.

His head jerked up only to realize that The Woman had simply moved.

Her head now rested on his collarbone, his arm wrapped around her, her hand clasped in his, pressed tight to his cuirass.

Something high in his chest cracked, fissures reaching magma flow far below, and his next breath quaked.

Beskar cautiously pressed to the top of her hair was not perfect, not even ideal.

But the alternative was terrifying.

The next morning dawned and The Woman still had not spoken, still drifted in a haze where Din was her only heading.

“I don’t know what to do with her,” he said, in the early afternoon, back in the Armorer’s forge.

This time with The Woman at his side, hand in his as always.

“I have work to do.”

“Take her with you,” the Armorer replied.

“I can’t do that.” His work was dangerous enough without spacey tag-alongs who did not listen to reason.

“She won’t be happy to stay here. And neither will you.”

Silence seemed the better reply than admitting how correct she was.

“Can you keep her here while I get supplies?”

“Yes.”

Din was never a meandering purchaser, but it was perhaps the shortest supply run he’d ever made. And that was with the addition of finding clothes and shoes he hoped would fit her.

Karga even made mention that he ‘seemed awfully anxious to get going’. But he coughed up four new pucks after a solid minute of silence.

The Woman was waiting at the western entrance of the covert when he returned and followed along happily back to The Razor Crest, now dressed in nondescript pants and tunic that suited the weather.

He set her down in the co-pilot’s seat and started the engines. Cleared for take off. Coordinates plotted. But first––

Turning back to face her, she looked his way, eyes still distant. “If you want to be taken somewhere, just tell me.”

As if that diffused the uneasy energy of leaving a planet with her.

Again.

She seemed entranced by the pulsing blur of hyperspace, eyes wide and unmoving from the windows.

Seeing as there was just one bed aboard, it made sense to sleep in shifts.

Though every time, he woke to her sitting at the cabinet opening, holding his hand.

He really couldn’t bring himself to mind.

He’d never had many passengers aboard his ship before, at least ones not stored in carbonite. But when he had, they felt like an intrusion. Something to be stepped around and removed at the soonest possibility.

It made very little sense why The Woman didn’t fall into the same category.

The first quarry was on Felucia. Seemed a group of bandits had been making life difficult for the local villages, difficult enough to pay Guild rates to have the base cleared out and the leader brought back in carbonite, ideally to be left in there.

The Woman was sleeping when they arrived. He hoped she’d remain that way in the time it took him to finish the job, which he didn’t think would be long. There were two dozen bandits at most, ill equipped and even less trained.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and paused to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Stay.

“I’ll be back,” he said in a low tone, before forcibly ignoring the bond and heading out.

Return.

Unfortunately, in his admittedly distracted scouting of the base, he missed the patrols they were doing of the surrounding forest.

Which is how his nest was stumbled on by some truly lucky trandoshans, who just happened to have back up already on the way, and Din was disarmed, cuffed, and taken into the yard behind the walls of the base.

Not ideal, but he’d been in worse setups.

Though the odds tilted out of his favor when the head of this bandit ring was revealed to be an ex-storm trooper sergeant. That had not been in the briefing.

No wonder there were forest patrols… and imperial grade handcuffs.

At least they let him keep his helmet for the time being.

However, they were unfortunately interested in how he’d gotten to them. A search party was immediately dispatched to find his ship.

They hadn’t been gone more than five minutes when suddenly,

Danger.

Oh no.

The Sergeant’s comm link activated. “Ship not yet located, but we did find something else, boss.”

“What?”

“Kursan is bringing her to the base.”

No. No. No.

“Well, well, well. This yours, Mando?” the Sergeant laughed as The Woman was brought into the yard at blaster point. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The Woman did not answer. She tried to step away from Kursan, but his grip on her arm stopped her, blaster pressing to her back.

“Let her go,” Din said. “She’s not part of this.”

“Oh, so, she’s up for grabs then?”

The Sergeant chuckled when Din did not reply. “‘Cause, ah… I know she’s not a local. And it’s not everyday beautiful women come wandering through the forests of Felucia.”

Danger!

He grinned. “This just got interesting. I know you Mandalorian types. Torture doesn’t bother you. Rip your lungs out and you still wouldn’t talk.” The Sergeant swaggered over to one of the weapons racks, picking up a bo staff. “You’re big on honor, loyalty. But more importantly, Protection.”

The Sergeant turned back to face The Woman, regarding her closely. “I wonder how pretty her face will be after I’m through,” he said quietly, steadily.

Rage breaking through control, Din pulled at his cuffs but they held strong.

“Leave her alone!” Din snapped.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

“Tell me where your ship is.”

Din gaze swept through the area, hopping from his restraints to his captors, seeking alternate routes. Desperate ploys. Anything.

The Sergeant did not wait, bo staff meeting The Woman’s ribs with a crack. She cried out and dropped to her knees, arms wrapped around her middle.

“Tell me where the ship is.”

With a swift inhale, the Sergeant lifted the bo staff for another swing–

“It’s on the ridge. A klick and a half due south.”

The Sergeant grinned again. “There. Now was that so difficult?”

He swung the bo staff down towards her–

“NO,” Din yelled–

The Woman’s hand caught the staff, mid-swing.

Her head snapped up. Snarl on her mouth.

She snagged the staff sideways, through the Sergeant’s grip, and gouged it into Kursan’s stomach.

His blaster fell to the ground. She grabbed it.

One shot, Kursan was down.

Second shot, hit the middle of the Sergeant’s cuirass, making him stumble back, and she got hold of the bo staff.

One quick swing knocked him to the ground.

Din used the cover of surprise to knock his blaster out of the hands of his guard.

Grabbing it, one shot to kill that guard and a second to kill the other.

The rest of the battlements finally caught on and opened fire into the yard.

The Woman ran for cover behind a parked imperial shuttle as Din tried to draw as much attention as possible away from her. Still cuffed, but at least he had the beskar.

A post under the battlements was as best cover as he could find. But it gave him a clear view of the opposite wall. Another shot, another guard fell.

A body dropped right in front of him, shot down by The Woman on the other side of the yard.

Who was she–no. Curiosity could be dealt with later, right now he was just kriffing grateful.

In tandem, they methodically took out the guards on the wall.

But Din lost sight of the Sergeant in the chaos.

He found him again when the Sergeant and The Woman came around the shuttle, bo staff and axe swinging furiously.

Din rolled out of cover, getting the last few guards she left behind above him.

The Sergeant blocked her high swing, but wasn’t ready as she brought the bottom up between his legs.

Then around to sweep his feet out from under him again.

Din turned and fired, hitting the gap between his cuirass and pauldron. The Sergeant collapsed.

The Woman turned on Din, gun back out and pointed his way.

One last guard, buried in cover, popped out and got off a single shot that pinged off Din’s armor.

Without looking away from Din, The Woman fired and the guard fell.

Oh.

Silence filled the yard as she turned her gun back on Din.

Her eyes were clear now, scorching in their fury. He was far more likely to die by her hand than any of the bandits.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Din had never seen anyone more miraculous.

He dared a step closer, still cuffed, blaster in one hand but lowered.

Her grip tightened on her gun.

Probably best to stop moving so the conversation didn’t begin in gunfire.

Her grip flexed again, and her brows flickered together.

Help.

“It’s alright,” he said in a calm, low tone.

She didn’t care much for that, fury flaring brighter.

Frustration became palpable as her mouth opened but no words came out.

She was straining for something, tension pulling her muscles taught. The hand on her bo staff shook once, till finally–

“VAII,” she demanded, the single word wrenched from her mouth with a great deal of effort.

It’d been so long since he’d heard mando’a outside of the covert, it took a moment for the word to register.

“Vaii me’bana?” he asked when she didn’t clarify. Where-what?

“Vaii!?” she repeated, after a shorter struggle.

“Felucia.” He hoped that was what she was asking.

Frustration and fury simmered down into confusion. Mouth opening again but no words coming out for a moment.

“Tion?” How?

Somewhere inside the compound, an alarm sounded.

Next: Chapter Three: The Promise

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[hdawg1995]

Ajax met Tomix today so heres a fanfic cause i have problems The Boy met THE BOY!

Ajax was tired. Mogloween was tiering. It was a little worse than Lucky Day- at least Mogloween meant candy and costumes. The warrior moved sluggishly into Serenity's Inn, hoping he could get a room close to the stairs. Serenity herself seemed pretty bashful when he walked in which was fair; She and the whole of falcon reach had just been consumed by greed, so it must have been embarrassing on some level.

The blond greeted him with a smile none the less and when he asked for a room she said "Oh! and Scalla is visiting currently!"

"She is?" That perked him up. He had actually wanted to see his mentor for a while now, and now there was something he wanted to trust her with. "Was she also affected by the candy?"

"Oh i don't think so, she got here a little while after trick or treating ended." She waved him off. "But her costume was really interesting! Maybe if you hurry she'll still have it on!"

Ajax had rushed up the stairs, his vampire cape getting snagged on the hand rails a few times- he should help serenity fix them so no one gets any splinters- and once he was up stairs he had to take his werewolf mask off to see better. Thing obscured his vision pretty good and as it turned out he has almost slammed into a door frame in his haste.

Finding Scalla was easy; the Other Hero of Lore rarely slept with her door closed for some reason, so when he poked his head into the first open room and saw that familiar visor he smiled and knocked on the door.

Scalla seemed to have been concentrating on her sword since she uncharacteristically jumped, wings flexing, when she heard him. Her costume WAS interesting- it looked like the pumpkin lord armor the Cauldron Sisters made for him but... different. He couldn't tell where the armor ended and Scalla's body began. It was one impressive costume!

"Nice costume! Mind if i hang out?" he asked, the wariness he had been feeling vanishing the longer he stood in her presence.

"Its not- umm, never mind, yeah sure!" she scooted a bit on the bed-the only thing in the room to sit on he noted- "Your costume is... uhh... what is it?"

Ajax strode in the room and sat next to her. up close he was having trouble finding seems or buttons. It was almost as if the vines were real and growing out of her. Very impressive.

"I call it... werepire!" He put the mask back on and made a hiss-howl sound.

"Thats hilarious." She said. "So, what was mogloween like this year for you? I was busy in my timeline and missed out on this one."

Ah. That was the thing he wanted to trust her with. He scratched the back of his head, careful not to untie his ponytail. He... never really felt embarrassed before, and he was excited to tell Scalla about it- Shes the closest thing to a friend he had other than...

"Well-uhh- a-actually." his face felt warm and he pulled the mask half off so it covered his face completely. "I had a lot of fun this year! Had to pass out the candy rather than collect it, but i got this cool cape to go with my werewolf mask and..."

Scallas was snickering. She poked him in the arm a few times, the tips of her gloves actually felt like thorns. "Whats up? you're acting like how i did when i first met Artix."

He didn't see it but he knew that was a sensitive subject and could imagine the strained smile. Shes making herself vulnerable so he would feel less embarrassed. This was why he liked hanging out with her, Ajax didn't have to be the strong, undefeatable, Hero of Lore- he could just be himself. With a deep sigh he pulled the mask all the way off.

"Thats uhh- because i met someone." He fiddled with the faux fur of his mask and Scalla shoved him, a big dumb smile on her face.

"Well who is it? I probably know them." It was a time travel joke which means Scalla is in good mental health. She always joked when she felt she could.

"Yeah you probably do. I don't know how you wouldn't meet him if you've been though what i went though." He stared off into the distance, thinking of the battles with Greed. "He was so cool. Badass even!- he summoned swords and-" he snapped his fingers. "-and he had these claws- Tomix is..."

A hand was on his shoulder.

"Scalla?" he called out, but she was frowning. He could see she was checked out, but even her Chaos seemed to be gone too. "You... okay?"

The hand on his shoulder gave a squeeze. It would normally be a reassuring thing, but he didn't know why he would be in need of comfort unless...

"Spoilers?" He whispered.

She nodded. it was a slow nod, like she was using all her will power just to move her head.

Ajax... wasn't naïve. He figured out Scalla came to his time line to see people she could no longer see in her's. It didn't take a gnome scientist to put two and two together to realize what this implication was. But...

He set his hand on her's. "I'm... Sorry." He had known Tomix for a day and had fallen head over heels for him. She must have known him longer, right? If only she was here earlier, she could have-

"You... have a lot of time." That was how her voiced sounded when she was checked out and running on instinct. "A lot... of time."

He smiled. It was really the only thing he could do- she never gave out lore hints or spoilers, but she always made sure he was aware of things that would never change. She refused to tell him about any of the orbs because that could change things, She never told him about the people he would meet because that could change things, and She wouldn't even tell him how to get a Dragon Amulet cause that could change things.

But he had time. A lot of it.

"I'll use it wisely." he gave her shoulder a squeeze, but- "Ow! Did you use real thorns on this costume?"

"Its not a costume." she said.

Ajax blinked a few times, laughed, and then excused himself.