#or did he somehow manage to get back to the estate and get some stuff before he fled?

[djdeviljin]

Jin's Tekken 3 ending compared to Tekken: Bloodline's ending:

I love that Bloodline ends with Jin's Tekken 3 ending, such a cool detail

[angel-of-the-moons]

Didn't Plan On It (AKA, Your Friends Are Assholes)

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, forced marriage (kinda??? You SORT OF consented to it???), hints at sexual stuff, groping, my shitty sense of humor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Based on this post I got tagged in asdfghjkl (I loosely based Max off a friend of mine 💀)

You loved your friends, but hated them at the same time.

Loved them because they were quirky and weird and matched your energy...

...Hated them because they matched your energy.

A double edged sword, for certain. But at the same time, there's nobody you'd trust more to come to your aid if some creep got up into your personal space. You'd all grown up together, been through everything through thick and thin, even if some of you moved away at some point.

There was Mari, the oldest one in the group by two years. She was like the aunt of the friend group (you were the group mom) who you all could trust to suggest poisoning an ex who did you wrong.

Then, there was Elizabeth "Lizzy", she was the one in the group that alcohol hit the hardest, the lightweight who got cuddly when she was drunk. She did everyone's taxes for them (you know how to do them, she just does them better). Stabbed her ex boyfriend for cheating on her, didn't get any charges pressed (somehow).

There was the other Elizabeth, whom everyone just called "Eli" to avoid confusing her with Lizzy. (Sometimes you all call them #1 and #2) Eli was the most tomboy of the group, her fashion very much stuck in the "grunge" fashion from back in the 90s. 90% of her fashion choice is band merch, she is the one who drives everyone to concerts and manages check-ins at events to make sure everyone is accounted for.

After Mari, Lizzy, and Eli, there was Zoey. Her contact number in everyone's phone is almost always "Zoey 101". The highest IQ out of you all, she was the one who manages passports, IDs, and luggage checks when you take trips together. Has way too much knowledge on the supernatural and the occult.

After the four of them, was Kayla. Kayla was the one who always knew everything about whatever group projects you were all assigned to in school; ask her an obscure fact and she could spit out an atlas or encyclopedia on the subject. Dresses like she's a model on a runway almost every day. Owns 5,000 pairs of feetie pajamas.

And finally, there was Maxwell "Max". You all likened him to Max, Goofy's son, due to how lanky he was. A beautician by trade, always wore flawless makeup when he dressed in drag. Or, just gorgeous in general. Your team's "Gay Avenger" and he watches your drinks at parties like he is a lone sentry between him, a sniper and a platoon of soldiers in the night. Max was the one you knew the longest, you two were born only a few days apart; your parents being best friends even longer. You all made every single one of his drag shows to support him, screaming and cheering the loudest.

Right now, you were at Kayla's house. She was a successful real estate agent and made serious bank; so hosting the bachelorette party in her honor there just made sense. Cheaper, too.

You all had a private party, getting wasted, eating snacks, dressing each other up, holding Lizzy's hair when she puked into the toilet, watching old shitty rom-coms, and letting Max put his best drag looks on all of you. (That was his favorite part of the night, honestly.)

But somehow, inevitably, the occult was brought up. Not by Zoey, but by Mari. She suggested playing with a ouija board.

Kayla had slammed her hands on the table and said, "Hell. No! Not in my house! I'm white, but I'm not horror movie "let's open a magic door and summon a demon" white!"

"Yeah, let's be real. The demon would probably claim Max first." Lizzy grinned, jerking her thumb to the man in question.

Max dramatically clutched his invisible pearls, the gaudy fake tiara crooked in his poofy curls as he gasped incredulously, "Not on the first date, girl! He'd have to put a ring on it, first. I have standards."

"Oh, he'd probably put a ring on something--" Eli snorted into her drink, earning a loud round of chortling from the rest of you.

As the laughter died down, Zoey had said a loud thoughtfully, "Well... there is something I read in my forums recently. A ritual..."

Kayla squinted at her, pointing her manicured nail into her chubby little cheek. "What did I just say about demons?"

"It's not a demon!" Zoey giggled. "It's a god."

"Oh, so instead of a demon, we're gonna summon something possibly even more dangerous?" Mari sighed, raising an eyebrow. "I d'nno how a god would feel about puny mortals like us summoning him from a plane of existence we can't even fathom just to ask him to strip for us."

"Noooo!" Zoey frowned at her as everyone laughed. "It's kind of like a.... fertility rite? Or well, maybe more like some kinda ceremony that's supposed to gain the favor of the god or something. It was discovered by some sort of archaeologist recently in a scroll!"

"A scroll." You deadpan, setting your empty glass of wine in front of you, leaning back on the couch.

"I think I know the scroll you're talking about." Kayla had piped in. "It was found in some recovered temple out in Egypt, right? By one that one world famous professor and historian?"

"Yes! So you know which god I'm talking about, and how he's not dangerous." Zoey nodded excitedly, growing more and more energized at the possibility of playing with magic with all of you.

Kayla tapped her nails on the tabletop, twisting her mouth as she mulled over her options. Deciding that, fuck it, Zoey had a point... it couldn't hurt to end the night with a bang.

"Okay, okay.... let's do it."

"Yessss!" Zoey said, jumping up and bouncing on her feet. She stopped and awkwardly cleared her throat. "Well, er... we kind of need a subject to be the centerpiece, though... the "anchor" of the spell..."

"Wait.... You said a fertility god?" Max squinted, his eyes glimmering cheekily.

"Well, healing, protection, fertility..." Zoey listed off, her voice trailing away.

"Okay okay, but let's focus on the fertility part." He replied. "So odds are.... the anchor of the spell is going to get laid."

"Well... It's a possibility."

"So, who gets to be the lucky anchor?" You asked, tilting your head.

The silence was so loud a mouse could sneeze and you all would have heard it.

And then.... their heads all turned to you, grins spreading on their faces as they all traded conspiratorial looks with one another.

"Oh fuck you." You snap, shaking your head.

"Well, babygirl..." Max leaned in, his arm over your shoulder. "I know for a fact you haven't been laid in a good long while..."

"I have an active sex life!" You retorted, your voice becoming shrill.

"Battery-operated silicone boyfriends don't count." He deadpanned, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

You slump in your seat, pouting like an angry child. "I don't need help getting laid!"

"Well, it's also..." Lizzy said slowly. "The last guy you were with was Troy... and we all know what happened with him."

Your mood soured further at the mention of your highschool sweetheart, the man of your dreams... or so it had appeared. You'd held out on him for a while, finally giving in on prom night and getting a hotel room and having sex with him.

And one day, you decided to drop by his family's house with an early birthday present. ...Only to have caught him in bed with his best friend's mother. He'd been cheating on you with her for almost the entirety of your relationship.

It was after that break-up that you just... didn't want to date. Even if you were lonely, you wouldn't give in because your sense of trust had been betrayed by the guy you were absolutely besotted with.

Eli cleared her throat, "Oh come on. Nothing's gonna happen... it's not like we're gonna sacrifice you on an altar."

"Ugh! Fine! Leave me alone! And when nothing happens you're all paying for my drinks the next time we go bar hopping!" You shouted, throwing your hands up in the air.

Zoey rubbed her hands together, grinning. "Now, then.... let's make a run to that little shop on Malden Street! They're 24 hours and have everything we need!"

You groaned as you got tugged along, Mari the designated driver because she was the only sober one.

Yeah. You hated and loved your friends.

Zoey had begun setting up the altar around the bed in the guest room, finishing it almost too quickly for your liking. Max and Kayla had dolled you all up for your "date", ensuring you looked your best when that god (never) appeared.

Dressed in one of Kayla's black nightgowns and her silk robe, Max had your hair styled "just right" and your makeup "tastefully minimal"--whatever all that meant.

Eli and Lizzy had killed the lights, while Mari cleared the rest of the bedroom for whatever else would occur.

You laid down on the bed as everyone sat in a semicircle around the bed, Zoey standing with a wax candle in hand as she read the spell screenshotted on her phone aloud as best she could in the language it was written.

You laid against the plush pillows, staring at the ceiling in boredom, listening to Zoey drone on and your other friends giggle in anticipation at the stupid middle-school antics they were perpetrating upon you.

Eventually, the room fell silent as Zoey kneeled like the others staring at you with rapt attention, her eyes glittering in excitement.

Only... nothing happened. Not even... well, you weren't sure what magic would feel like if it was cast on you.

"Hah!" You said, lifting your head to look at Zoey, pointing. "I told you nothing would happen--"

Your six friends all fell backwards with startled shouts and shrieks when, in a blur of light... you vanished.

Right in front of them!

"Oh, oh no.... Um... whoops...?" Zoey said, her voice shell shocked and tiny as a bead of sweat dripped down her brow.

Max grabbed Zoey and shook her, "What did you do! What did you do?!"

The moment that flash of light dissipated you hit whatever soft surface you were on with a gasp, almost feeling your lungs squeezed of all air before sucking in much needed oxygen.

You blinked your eyes open, and when they focused on your surroundings... You realized you weren't at Kayla's house anymore. Your friends weren't sitting in their silly ritualistic circle... Zoey wasn't staring at you like a bug under a microscope.

You were... somewhere. The bed you were on was insanely large and round, the sheets a divinely soft texture, almost like the velvet of a moths's wing. A canopy was above you, wafting in an unknown breeze. Marble pillars with beautiful scenes painted on lined the room that was very sparse, save for a table laden with food in the corner.

You swing your legs over the bed and rub your temples.

You were drunk. You were black out drunk and this is all some kind of horrible dream that will cause you migraines with your inevitable hangover in the morning.

Right?

Yeah. Not so lucky.

When your eyes opened once more, you were still in the strange marble room.

You groaned, standing up and shivering as your feet touched the cold stone floors, polished to a fine sheen that reflected the dim torchlight lit on various oil lamps lining the room.

You looked to your side and noticed some kind of balcony, the night sky just beyond.

You frantically ran for it, hoping that maybe you might be able to call down to the street below for help, but... no luck.

Your hands wrapped around the stone banister and your jaw dropped. You weren't met with the night scenery of some kind of city or town, or even a sprawling estate.

Chalky dust, dented with craters and rocks and boulders stretched out beyond your vision's limits. And hovering in the sky where the moon should be, was...

The Earth. A shiny blue-and-green marble that lazily hung in the void of space, one side dimly lit by the sun while the other was black, lights from the cities below dotting it with a golden hue in the shadow of the--the fucking moon.

You were on the fucking moon?!

"How the hell... what..." You said, your heart thudding in your chest as you walked back into the ornate, pale room you'd exited.

Honestly, you were the darkest thing in there, dressed in all black, the silk hanging from your body and clinging to you in all the right places...

How were you breathing? What were you breathing? How were you even alive--

"Well... this is interesting." A deep voice mused from behind you.

You could feel someone looming over you. An oppressive feeling bearing down on you like whoever this was towered beyond your height.

You spun around, swallowing the lump of fear in your chest; but whoever spoke was no longer behind you.

"It's been some time since anyone has performed that ritual." The voice said again, "Though... uour friend should have worded it more carefully. Her mistranslation may cost you more than intended."

You looked towards the balcony, the thin curtains swaying in the breeze-that-should-not-be, a tall, imposing shadow barely showing through the other side.

An impossibly large man. Or... what looked like a man... if it weren't for the silhouette of the bird skull where his head should be.

Fear spread through your body at every leap of your pulse, dreading it as the figure began walking to the edge of the fine drapery. You anticipated some kind of horror show, but... well. You got the opposite.

A man with impeccably tanned skin, dressed only in a gold bejeweled collar and bracers stepped out, his white skirt wrapped in some sort of sheer cover, his toned waist disappearing beyond, a thin trail of dark hair trailing up to his navel as his bare feet padded silently across the polished floor. On his chest was a crescent moon that looked like it was painted in some sort of gold across his skin.

His hazel eyes glimmered at you with an inhuman inner light, his mouth quirked up in a cocky smile that stretched his beard; his long, curled black hair striped with wisps of silver as it hung low against his shoulders.

One of his hands held a long staff, topped in a golden crescent moon, like the one tattooed on his chest. His eyes trailed you up and down as he slowly made his way over to you.

You were transfixed.

You were so struck by him that you didn't flinch until his fingers tipped your chin so you would look up at him, your mouth going dry. What the hell was happening?

"Well... at least you are pleasing to look at."

You felt your ego take the punch, and your awe at his beauty was shattered. Oh. So he was a dick.

"You--"

"Do you know why you're here, little dove?" He hummed, tilting his head slightly with a coy--but knowing--smile.

"I... My friend did some stupid magic circle, that's what!" You say, twisting your head free from his grasp, stepping away to wrap the silk robe around you tighter, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"I asked not what brought you here... but if you knew what your friend's ritual has ordained for you." He chuckled lowly at your sense of modesty.

"I..." You flounder, wishing you had been listening to the details Zoey had been spitting as she set up the circle, earlier as Max and Kayla got you ready. "Something about..."

Your body shivered at the realization.

"... something about fertility?"

The man moved towards you in a blur, suddenly behind you once again; his body heat bleeding into you like the scorching sun on a summer day, his heavy hands circling your waist and toying with the knot in the robe.

"Close." He had whispered, his lips touching the shell of your ear as your body went rigid in his embrace.

"Your friend mistranslated "offering"." The ridiculously gorgeous man hummed deeply. His lips skimmed your bare neck in appreciation; "She said "wife". Imagine my surprise, while I was overseeing my Fist's duties and I heard that incantation over the divine space. I simply had to see who performed such a ritual."

"W-wait you can't be saying that..."

"I am afraid so, little dove." He breathed, his mouth leaving a hot kiss to your leaping pulse, making heat pool low in your belly. His hands slid beneath the robe, touching the soft nightgown that covered you beneath; barely touching the undersides of your breasts.

"You belong to me, now."

You stood ramrod stiff as his hands roamed you, mapping out every dip and curve your body had; every hollow and mark in your skin, driving your body mad with desire despite the shock of your current situation.

"It is human custom to consummate a marriage after a ceremony, yes?" His mouth once again found your ear, his words hot on your skin, one of his hands slipping beneath your robe and gown to brush his thumb over one of your pebbled nipples; his other sliding down to slowly hike up the skirt of your nightwear, his hand groping and squeezing the fat of your thigh.

"It has been... overlong since I have indulged in such pleasures. But I assure you, I have a--very--good memory."

All six of them had been in a constant state of panic, frantically wondering if they should call a priest or the police. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in gorgeous colors as clouds lazily danced about the atmosphere.

Max had yanked at his curls, "I'm to gay and gorgeous to go to jail!"

"It was magic not murder, you drama queen!" Mari shouted, shaking Max's arm frantically.

"Who the fuck should we call?!" Lizzy shrieked, waving her arms over her head. "The fuckin' Winchester brothers?! Fucking Constantine?!"

Zoey practically sobbed, emotionally raw and scared. She hadn't expected anything to happen with this! After all, none of her other dabblings caused something like... like this! What if she mistranslated in the wrong language and accidentally sent you to Cthulhu? What if she cursed you to one of the circles of hell? Did she say something wrong?!

"I'm sorry!" She sniffled as Eli rubbed her back, trying desperately to stay calm. "I didn't know!"

"Well, we are not ever doing goddamn magic ever again!" Kayla hyperventilated, fanning herself desperately with her hand, the other holding her long hair up in a bunch to get it off of her sweaty neck. "God damn it, this shit always happens in horror movies! Me and my big mouth--"

They were all almost knocked to the ground again, when, in a bright flash of light... you were dropped onto the plush mattress once again. Only this time, your appearance was far more disheveled.

Your makeup ran down your cheeks, mascara tracking down your face from dried tears, your lipstick smeared and hair messy; your clothes haphazardly askew in several places.

You blinked, your eyes not entirely focused as you sat up and looked at your friends. You zeroed in on Zoey. You didn't seem... hurt? Mad at her?

Instead, your usual coping mechanism kicked in. Humor.

"Scully.... You're not gonna believe this..."

[queenofbaws]

I know I said my previous request would be my last one for the cable car series, but with each prompt fill being better than the last, I can't help but come back for more. I've been eatin' good so far, so I'm gonna double down and ask for dessert - a fifth and final part to the saga! I'd love to see a post-kiss heart-to-heart/true confession from Chris and Ashley. Something that dialogue-heavy might be a bit much for six sentences, though, so maybe save it for one of those long prompt weekends?

not-quite-six sentence weekend :P

(once upon a time, in a cable car not so far away...)

"So," they somehow managed to say at precisely the same time - Chris and Ashley, Ashley and Chris - neither the cold nor the heights nor the earth-shattering reality of what had just happened in the dimly lit cable car proving enough to override the wavelength they so often shared. The moment led to another (both telling the other to go ahead), led to another (both saying no, no, no, you first), led to another still (averted eyes and vague hand gestures, half-formed words that all sounded suspiciously like giggles). Then the cable car was quiet.

For a moment, anyway.

"So," Chris tried again, "how about this weather we're having?"

Ashley groaned, or sighed, or did both at the same time, it was hard to parse. Still, she found it within herself to sit up straight, all her earlier worries about this trip long forgotten. "Really, Chris?" she asked, keeping her voice playfully flat. "Really?"

"Really! I mean, check it. It's really, uh, weathering out there. As far as the eye can see."

"Sure is."

"I mean, someone should call the news. This weather? This right here? I mean...someone's gotta report on this stuff, Ash. It's not every day you see something like this." It took him longer than he would've liked, but he scrounged up courage enough to glance her way, feeling his insides do the usual flip-flop as he watched her shake her head, roll her eyes, laugh. It bolstered him enough to swallow that last bit of anxiety down, and that, along with the memory of her lips warm against his, ended the crummy joke. "Also? That was, uh, nice."

Ashley nodded slowly, waging a very similar war inside herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"The kind of nice," he continued, feeling a little bit like one of those bomb defusers crime shows loved using for some reason, "thaaat I could...get used to. I-If you also could...get used to...it, I mean."

She dropped her face into her hands for an instant, still laughing, still nodding, and when she sat back up, she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I could also get used to it, yeah. Super used to it, in fact."

"I - oh! Well. Neat! I guess - "

Which was of course when the slow jams Josh had been piping in over the hidden speakers suddenly cut out, giving way to the evil emcee himself. Whatever he'd used to hook the things up, the connection wasn't great, so there was a staticy, old-timey radio quality to his teasing that only made the situation feel that much more surreal.

"Heeello again, ladies and gents. This is your captain speaking, informing you that you will be reaching the summit - and the scenic Blackwood Pines estate - in about three minutes. Please be sure to dispose of all garbage in the designated receptacles, keep your hands and feet inside the ride and all times, and for the love of Christ, if you haven't already had some gross Hallmark movie moment in there, you better get that shit out of your combined systems NOW, before I have to deal with you for the whole weekend.

"Quick notes to help that process along: Ashley, I'm sure you're wondering whether I found all those darling love poems in the notebook you accidentally left at my place last week. Yes. I did. You're probably also wondering if I have the balls to read them out loud. Yes. I do. And Cochise. Sweet, precious Cochise. This is my reminder to you, my man, that there are appropriate and inappropriate things to say to a lady before, after, and during a romantic embrace. Appropriate things include but are not limited to - wow, you're gorgeous; I've wanted to do this for such a long time; and it's you and me against the world, baby. Inappropriate things, as we've been over many, many times, include - but again, ARE NOT LIMITED TO - hubba hubba awooga; aw geez; and neato!"

Ashley snorted so hard she startled herself, jumping in her seat.

Chris, on the other hand, was less amused. "...I mean technically 'neat' isn't the same as 'neato,' sooo..."

"Now, I didn't think to rig this shit up to be two-way, so I can only assume you're both saying 'Okay Josh, that makes sense Josh, you got it, Josh,' over and over again in there. When you get to this station, God as my witness, there better not be one iota of romantic tension left between you, or - "

The speakers squawked once and died out as they hit a slight bump in the line, but where there had been panic the last time that happened, now there was only relief. Chris turned to Ashley, Ashley turned to Chris, and while their faces were still much too red for how cold it was inside the cable car, things felt absolutely, undoubtedly, utterly perfect.

...for a moment, anyway.

"So...love poems, huh?"

[inverswayart]

For the OCs questions meme: Harrier Hawke 1, 2, 16, 18, 27! Hyacinth Surana 15, 20, 35, 38! Bernard Amell 10, 12, 32, 19, 44! Marinette Hawke 5, 8, 39, 37, 50! Sunburst Andras (my favorite French asshole <3) 10, 44, 13, 37, 46! Also one of the questions speaks to you more for another character than the one I assigned it to, feel free to answer for them instead haha :D

wow, what a delightful request :D the only problem is that it turned out too long, so i hope you don't mind me posting it in parts by character. anyway, behold: Part 1, Harrier Hawke

1. Do they have any crafting hobbies?

No, not really - while Harrier inevitably picked up plenty of useful skills during his life, none of them interested him outside of their immediate purpose. His cool cousin Bernard, however, has one - following his and Determination’s fascinations with bones they occasionally delve into bone carving and/or squishing Harrowhark-Nonagesimus-style (and yes, he did make a little boner charm once)

2. Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so what scents do they prefer?

Not initially - until act 2 Harrier has very little money/desire to - he considers just being clean enough and would rather have to deal with just sweat then sweat mixed with some cheap shitty thing. During and after act 2 however he starts to use ever stronger flower/herb scented perfume to somewhat hide the smell of healing ointments he uses more and more for his arms (would be stupid to out yourself as a bloodmage just after settling down somewhat) and also cause it’s a thing that rich people do; and since Harrier is also rich now -  why go against the current? esp when it’s nice stuff and not whatever Red Irons were bathing in (and drinking occasionally)

16. Do they have or want kids?

Before and during act 2 he entertained the thought occasionally, a bit more often after reclaiming the estate - Leandra did talk plenty about him getting married and settling the Amell-Hawke family back in Kirkwall (even tho after twins’ deaths Harrier seriously doubted his ability to take care of anyone, not mentioning actual children). After Leandra’s death tho he drops it completely - he never says it aloud but he seriously afraid that his family is somehow doomed to die terrible unnatural deaths, so he is scared to call or even think about anyone as family (even tho he considers Anders and Merrill part of it)

18. How easy is it to become their enemy?

Easier than it seems, harder than it should be - he simultaneously looks like the kind of funnyguy who doesn’t hold grudges (he absolutely does) and while he’s way of plenty of people he usually waits till the very last moment to decide that he hates someone and considers them his enemy (he is a charmer at heart and tries his damn best to not get things to open confrontation. his best isn’t very good but still) So in the end it’s pretty tricky to figure if he is still in jokey-neutral stance with you or he’s already tipped into animosity.

27. Has a chance encounter ever had an unexpected effect on them?

Once upon a time when Harrier had not developed his magic yet some wandering minstrel passed through one of many settlements of Ferelden and stayed at the local tavern, agreeing to play through the evening to cover a bit of the room’s price. Same day Hawkes were passing nearby and risked staying at the tavern to pass the cold and stormy night. Malcolm and Harrier went down to the common to get their food room while Leandra stayed in the room with twins - and so little Harrier witnessed surprisingly soulful rendition of Dane and the Werewolf - or at least that little bit of it he managed to listen in while Malcolm picked up and payed for food. Even after going back to their room Harrier tried to hear a bit more, plastered with his ear against the wall (Leandra made him to bed eventually - with great effort) And so was born Harrier’s lifelong dream - to become a minstrel himself and captivate people with a chord and a word. He got the chance to actually pursue it somehow only by act 2, when he actually got money and time for a tutor. 

[whumpwizard]

Whumptober2022 Day 26: No One Left Behind

The Nein had hoped, when they had gone looking for Essek, that they would have found him in some nice, padded cell.  You know, something befitting his status as Shadowhand, maybe as a reward for betraying them in favour of the Empire. As it turned out, though, the Empire was somehow even less forgiving than the Kryn.  Jester and Caleb had found the drow tied up and bloody, half dead on the ground in a dirty, rat infested cell.  Well, they say half dead but really, he was all the way dead, and Jester had only barely managed to get him back.

When he had woken, it had been with a start, a gasp, and a frantic attempt to run.  All understandable, of course, but still dangerous. Luckily, in his state, even Caleb had been able to pick him up, his body limp and frail after what must have been weeks of torture. With not too much difficulty, they had managed to drag him out of the Martinet’s estate before they were all killed.  All in all, a win.

Except now, Caduceus had a fugitive drow on his couch, and a very worried wizard pacing his floors. Luckily, Jester was paying attention to Essek.

“Why?” Essek said, no cognizent enough to ask questions as Jester treated his rope burn.  His wrists were a raw, almost maroon colour, and they burned like fire whenever they rubbed against something. Thankfully, Jester’s hands were cooler than most, and acted as a balm as she wrapped up the marks.

“Why what?” she asked, accent lilting and demeanour happy as always. Essek sighed.

“You know what I mean.” he said.  “Why…why did you save me?” He looked down, unable to meet Jester’s gaze. She just laughed a little, as though Essek had really just told the funniest joke in the whole of Exandria.

“Oh you’re so silly Essek!” she said, tying off the knot on the linen wrapping. “Why would we save you? You're our friend! And friends keep each other safe! Right Cayleb?” Jester turned to the ginger wizard, who was still pacing the floor. With a start, he looked up.  There was, Essek noticed, a minuscule relief in his eyes, that Essek was doing well.

“Mm.” he grunted, before continuing to pace.

“He’s just worried because he thinks this means Ickythong still has, like, power in the Assembly and stuff, you know.  So, he wants to figure out what to do. I’m sure he’ll figure it out quickly though, don’t you worry Essek!” Jester beamed, and gave Essek a big hug. Essek hesitated, but returned the gesture reluctantly.

“You should…”  Essek started, but before he could spit it out, a little blue finger rested on his lips.

“You shut up, Essek!” Jester said, face suddenly very serious. “You’re just gonna tell us to run away and not help you and blah blah blah. Well too bad! We’re helping you now and you gotta deal with it. Okay? Okay.” She nodded, and placed a little kiss on Essek’s forehead, before bouncing away, presumably to talk with the Nein.

Essek just sat there, on the couch for a moment, and thought. The pain of the burns was returning without Jester’s cool touch, and though he would never tell anyone, the linen didn’t actually really help.  But still, he supposed he deserved this small pain after everything, and if the Nein weren’t going to believe that he wasn’t worth saving? Then he would simply have to suffer his atonement in any small way he could.

[pspettigrew]

Don’t Be Sad; Get A Tattoo

Date: June 29th, 1984 Location: Prewett Estate and then Peter’s Flat Tagging: Self-Para

Peter was left standing alone in the room after James took off, and there was a mixture of feelings swirling in his chest. 

Hope, for starters. Hope that perhaps with this, he and James could somehow mend their friendship and things could be okay. Hope that James believed him, and wanted to fix things as he did. Hope that maybe not everything was ruined, and that maybe with a little work, the Marauders could be pulled back together. That hope was something that Peter would cling to, and not let go of.

Pride was the next feeling. Pride at being able to actually do a Patronus, and pride at having done it in front of James of all people, who seemed to be proud of him. No matter how much Peter grew, that was one thing he would never be able to stop; feeling like he needed James to be proud of him, to think he was doing a good job, that he was doing the right thing. Truthfully, he wanted all his friends to be proud of him, to be happy that he'd finally managed a Patronus, but out of all of them, James was still the one he craved validation from the most.

There was an uneasiness there too, from the whole conversation. Despite that hope, Peter had that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that maybe this was as good as it would get. Maybe... Maybe this is what they all were now. Maybe in order to be himself, to be the better version he was making of himself, to feel finally useful and needed for once... he had to lose his friends, because they didn't want that version of him. Luckily enough, it was just a tiny voice, and the hope drowned it out... mostly.

As he continued practicing for awhile after James left, Peter realized a few things about the memory he'd used first, and the memories that had come to him, that had made it easier to cast that Patronus and make it bright enough to run around the room as it had. The thoughts rolled around in his head, as he found himself getting tired and deciding that it was enough practicing for the day. He had to come in early tomorrow anyway for some stuff he wanted to look over, and so he decided to head home for some sleep.

James had said to focus on how the memory made him feel back then. The happiness of it. But Peter had also focused on the other words James had said 'you were safe. you were secure.' and the way that had felt. And it was true, back when they'd first all told him that he was there friend, he'd felt safe and secure and happy and... loved. And he'd tried to focus on just that, but then another instance popped into his head. When else had he felt safe?

It felt odd almost to have thought about when James was standing in front of him, using his Patronus to chase away the Dementors from them, when they'd truly been in danger... But perhaps it was that feeling of knowing that even after their fight, James was willing to run to him, stand in front of him, protect him, that made Peter focus on just how safe that had made him feel.

And as he kept practicing, that led into other memories. Not just of James, but of all the Marauders. Maybe some of them weren't truly 'happy' memories by any standards to anyone else, but they were all times that Peter had felt safe and wanted and loved, and that was the feeling that had worked so well to get the Patronus charm to work. James, standing in front of him and fighting the Dementors off, Sirius, protecting him from some of the jerks at Hogwarts, Remus, helping him with his homework as he struggled, Lily, coming over after his fight with James to bake with him...

They were his friends, the only family he had, and Merlin and Morgana did he just want to go drag each and every one of them into a room by their hair and force them all to just talk and fix all of this. But Peter knew better, and knew that that wasn't going to fix anything, and most likely was just going to make it all ten times worse. As he got home and moved to make some food, he squared his shoulders slightly, becoming even more determined that he was going to have to start stepping up and really pulling them all in somehow, speak with each of them. Because this had to be fixed, it had to.

Peter began to change for bed, and paused. Looking in the mirror, he absently put his hand over the rat paw prints tattoo on his chest, over his heart. He chewed on his lip for a moment, looking lost in thought, before an idea came to him. Yanking his shirt on to sleep in, he made his way over to his desk, scrambling for some parchment and a pen. Finding them, while also knocking quite a few things off the desk as well, Peter sat down and began trying to draw.

Now granted, Peter Pettigrew was not the best at drawing, but he wasn't absolutely terrible either. He was pretty sure if he handed this to the person who'd do the tattoo, they'd know what he was asking for, and be able to do a much better job than he had, to make it look nice. But as Peter looked at the mockup he'd drawn, he had to smile softly to himself. The rat paw prints, being circled by a stag's prints, a dog's prints, a wolf's prints, and lily petals, that would be in motion. Because those were the people who made him feel the most safe, the most secure, and it would be a quiet reminder to himself to think of that, to think of them, as he cast the Patronus.

Now all he had to do was get enough courage to actually go to a tattoo shop and get it done, without the others being there. That would be the most challenging part.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Whateverday: Boyfriend Number Three

Since I’ve shared snippets from Chris’s section and Richard’s section, it seemed only fair that I share a bit from the last section - Guy’s. I just started it for procrastination (of a sort) from my main NANO piece*.

Note, while I’m sharing the fluffy bits of this, there will be some serious relationship/personal interaction sort of stuff. It somehow turned into a therapy piece for me. I may not even allow comments when I post it to Ao3...we’ll see. There’s a fine line between “Misery loves company” and “I do not want to discuss this with the internet”.

(Don’t worry - there will be no breakups or heartache! Just headache!)

...in the meantime, have Guy being a doof.

*as always, secondary goal is to actually finish something - anything! - so this still counts.

Thomas wasn’t certain how he’d gone from being Lord Grantham’s butler to being his accountant, but the change in position did have it’s advantages. The spreadsheets were much the same. He could work off location, meaning that all of his work was done from the comfort of Guy’s estate. There was no worry about his employer looking over his shoulder and breathing down his neck, he could take breaks whenever he liked…

…and there was no one to see him rubbing his temples when Lord Grantham decided to send the necessary paperwork himself instead of letting his daughter or son-in-law doing it, resulting in Thomas having the wrong information. To think, the Granthams had generously sent him to the International Butler’s Academy for this.

He had just heaved a sigh and was getting ready to send a politely worded email to Lady Mary when his phone pinged at him. “Thank God.” Reaching over, he picked it up and found a text from Guy.

It simply read, “I’m home!”

Thomas looked at the clock…and swore. Standing quickly enough he almost knocked his chair over, he turned and hurried for his coat. “So sorry. Was working and lost track of time. I’ll get a cab and be right there.” He shoved his feet in his shoes and was looking up the number for a cab when the phone actually rang. It was, naturally, Guy. “Hello,” Thomas answered, breathless even though he hadn’t gone more than five feet. “I’m coming, really, I just-”

“No need,” the cheerful voice on the other end informed him. “I’m here.”

Thomas stopped in his track. “Wait. You mean you’re home  home?”

“Surprise! Just got out of the cab. Could you come give me a hand with the bags? And maybe a kiss?”

“Be right out.” Thomas hung up and, bypassing his coat, headed for the front drive. Opening the door, he found Guy paying the driver, a small collection of three suitcases gathered around his feet. He’d left the country with two. “Guy!”

The other man looked up and smiled broadly. “Thomas! So good to see you. Did you miss me?”

Striding across the gravel, completely ignoring the cab, Thomas walked up and threw his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him into the tightest hug he could manage. “Of course I did.” He pulled back, scowling, and scolded, “But why didn’t you text me when you were landing? I’d have met you at the airport!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Guy replied with a shrug.

[dancinjanssen]

Life update. Haven’t done this in a while, if ever.

I am happiest to report that I got out of slinging coffee (which I’d been doing since 2014 across two different places) and found an office job. Without doxxing myself, essentially I calculate/reconcile real estate agents’ commission checks and make sure that each person involved in the transaction is getting paid the right amount. Monday through Friday, all the holidays off, no more dealing with customers. It’s been pretty great. (The only thing I’m still adjusting to is working 8 to 5 as a natural night owl who would always prefer to be up until 2 am and sleep until 10.) I’m that weirdo who’s always loved math too, so I feel completely in my element. My boss is essentially the 2.0 version of my favorite math teacher from middle school, which has been hilarious and great too. They literally even have the same first name and look alike.

My barista years will always hold a place in my heart. I worked with some amazing coworkers, got to do barista competitions, and now I have knowledge and appreciation of good coffee that I’ll enjoy on the customer end for the rest of my life. That being said…..

Why after eight years in the industry and four of them at this last place did I leave? I’ll tell you exactly why. MANAGEMENT. Really specifically one manager, but the rest of management defended and protected her behavior, so I really left all of them. In a nutshell:

Year one: Different supervisor. Call him M. M wasn’t great, but he eventually got fired. This supervisor- H- got promoted in his place.

Years two and three: For reasons I still don’t comprehend, H took an immediate abnormally strong liking to me. It went beyond just thinking I was a good worker and appreciating me on a professional level. H would tell me to come hang out with her in the office and just talk to her about life for 1-2 hours a night. She told me to always have her grab my money for the register and that if any other manager offered, to tell them she was doing it. And when Covid hit in 2020 and a big part of our staff got furloughed, she moved me from a station that got shut down to one that didn’t just so I wouldn’t get furloughed because she said she would cry if I did. One of the sketchiest straws for me was the night she told me to close the coffee shop for my lunch (like always) but then to stay closed for an extra half hour to come hang out with her.

Year four: Complaints about H favoring me naturally mounted, and finally after enough of them, the boss above her talked to her and told her it needed to stop. I agreed with that. That alone was perfectly fine and needed to happen. But this was where H just went unhinged and made my final year at this place hell. She blamed me almost entirely for our relationship getting out of hand. She told me I got too carried away and didn’t manage my time well enough and that’s why it got noticed that we were together in the office a lot. When I asked her why she never once told me it was time to leave and get back to work (you know, her job as MY BOSS), she told me she thought all my work was done. Oh yeah. Telling me to come hang out with you at 7:30 when the coffee shop closed at 11 was me clearly having all my work done. [Sarcasm]

And from then on, H was not nice to me. She avoided eye contact with me, said the absolute bare minimum to me, and made big shows of saying hi and talking to everyone else while completely ignoring me. Once we got some new hires, they became her new favorites and did all the stuff she and I used to do. It was like she learned NOTHING from what happened with me. These people hung out with her in the office just like we did, but all the while she still iced me out and acted like I was gum on her shoe for getting her in trouble the first time. It put me in a horrendous place mentally. I blamed myself for somehow not being good enough for her or for being “too much” for her. What did these new employees have that I didn’t?

January this year: I along with 5-6 other employees all went to upper management about H. About her favoritism. About her treating us like garbage while her new chosen ones sat in the office and did zero work. About H giving them Christmas gifts right in front of everyone else. All upper management told me was to get over it, back off, and stop letting it bother me. That all H owed me was to be professional and not to be my friend. I told them she wasn’t even being professional with me and they didn’t care. The single only thing they agreed to tell her was that she needed to look at me when she was talking to me. They agreed the lack of eye contact was rude. (I know some autistic people prefer that, but I don’t. Mileage may vary. And it was her being rude, not uncomfortable with eye contact. She made it with everyone else.)

February to May this year: I went day to day never knowing which version of H I was going to get. Some days she randomly warmed up to me again, others she kept icing me out. Some days she made eye contact, others she didn’t. One day she walked with me into the building and made conversation the whole way, the next she’d avert her eyes and walk on without me.

May 2022: I finally drew the line for my mental health, said enough of this bullshit, and found a new job. Gave H my two weeks on May 23rd (sooo satisfying!) and my last day was June 2nd. I didn’t even have to do that. I could have told her to go get f**ked and walked out right on the 23rd. But I cared about my other coworkers enough to work my two weeks, plus the new place didn’t start me until June 6th anyway.

June 2nd (my last day): Probably the single weirdest day I ever had with H. Each month this year, she planned to bring cake one night and celebrate all the birthdays of that month. She saw that through in January, February, and March only, and then had abandoned it. Back in January, she accidentally announced me with the names even though I’m a May baby. Sometime later when the vibe was right, I let her know that, and she felt bad and said I could pick one of the cake flavors for May. (She always got two cakes.) After no cake happened in April, I thought it was a lost cause anyway, but when I asked a couple of times almost just to be snarky, she kept insisting it was happening.

Finally on my last day, she told me she had my cake. That it was MY cake and she didn’t get cake for anyone else, and it was combination birthday and going away/new job. She said all of this very stoically and mechanically. When I went to her office later to get the cake, it was goodbye for us and I didn’t really know what to say. I thanked her and told her I was sorry that things got rough with us, and she said “It is what it is. I’m glad you can grow in your new career now.” So that told me she was ecstatic for me to leave.

The whole thing was just WEIRD. I never really knew where I stood with her. Getting out was the absolute best thing for me. I wish everyone else luck in their navigations with her.

I still keep in touch with coworkers. I am happy to say that one month later, my job has not been filled yet and they’re now offering $1,000 sign on bonuses for some of the positions. That place can drown in its shitty management. I did my part to try to change it and nobody cared. Sayonara.

[chicken-fifi]

The Protector and the Protected - Part XVII

Description: After a minor slip up in security, the existence of the only daughter of a diplomat is leaked to the world. With no knowledge of what other unprecedented dangers may arise, your father brings you home after an attempt on your life while living abroad. Upon your return, you are assigned a personal bodyguard to ensure your safety who is to be by your side practically every waking moment. Come hell or high water, he makes sure that you’re as safe as can be while under his watch. As much as you tell yourself that this isn’t some bodyguard fanfic where you end up falling in love, somehow your protector manages to make you question that small detail.

Warnings: Violence, guns, cursing, sexual inuendos, kidnapping, constant danger, mass shootings, smut, idk man just stuff

Word Count: 1,868 words

The Protector and the Protected Masterlist  

| Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII |

It was by some miracle that the Congressman had managed to leave the abandoned building as quickly as he had. Mere moments after he and the small handful of his men that were stationed there had thrown you in the SUV and were on the road, the building’s motion systems went off. While that did nothing more than simply send a small message that there was unknown movement, it did alert him to the little time he had to execute his plan without a single fault - although even he was doubting that any of it would go to plan.

They were onto him and it would only be a matter of time before they figured out what a part of his endgame was - that is, if they hadn’t figured it out already. He knew good and well that no matter the conditions he gave your father for your safe return, he wasn’t guaranteed the presidency. While your father’s influence was rather great and would plan a pivotal role, leaving him alive would only complicate things, even more so if you lived as well. But if he somehow managed to make this all look like it was brought on by an outsider, someone with a vendetta against the diplomat and what he stands for, a simple promise during your funeral services to bring the perpetrators to justice could get him the votes. 

But everything needed to go to plan for that to happen. And right now the scale could easily be tipped if he didn’t reach the estate in time.

~~~

With the sudden reveal of Park’s plan still processing in everyone’s brains, they all moved quickly to leave the building relaying the information to HQ for further instruction. While none had expected to be able to rescue you without a fight, they had not expected things to have escalated this much in such little time.

“They want us to head directly to Mr. (y/l/n)’s estate. There’s still a slight chance we can beat him there and end things,” one of the heads of the swat team relayed.

Seonghwa’s hands played nervously with the gun in his hands. The weapon felt like a part of him, something he could hold and work with little to no problem, except there was a rather larger problem. Despite the fact that he carried the gun on his person as part of the whole bodyguard display, he hadn’t actually pulled its trigger once. Yes he’d put his finger on it, he’d taken off the safety, he’d aimed, but he had never fired it. He could never fire it. 

Before being a bodyguard, before Zara’s death, before he was framed for her murder, he wouldn’t have hesitated once when it came to firing it. Allowing the small metal bullet to burst out of the chamber, flying gracefully through the air and hitting its target. The smokey aftermath of the gunpowder and hear exuding from the same spot the bullet had exited. It was all something he had once been accustomed to, almost like a second part of him being. And then he witnessed her brutal murder.

“Seonghwa?” Wonjae’s voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. “Park’s reached the estate and has taken Mr. (y/l/n) hostage.”

He looked at his friend only then catching just how quietly he’d relayed the information as he heard the same xwat leader from before barking out more orders. Not that any of them mattered to him, the captain could give them as many orders as he wanted, but he wouldn’t be listening to a single one. He wasn’t going to let you die, he wasn’t going to permit you to be brutally murdered. If he had to give his life to ensure you got out alive he would. He may not be able to pull the trigger, but he had been assigned to protect you. 

And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

~~~

You came to as you were being hoisted up from the leather seats of the SUV. Being thrown over someone’s shoulder you groaned slightly struggling to figure out where exactly it was that you were at. Upon walking through the doorway of your new location you immediately realized where exactly you were: your father’s estate. You also noticed the men following behind whoever had you thrown over their shoulder were carrying a large black trunk like object, their faces void of any type of emotion. All of you were past the foyer in a matter of seconds and you were dropped onto the couch in the living room, struggling to sit up as you noticed the figure standing in the doorway that led out of the living room.

Your father.

Mr. Jung was directly behind him forcing his way forward and standing in front of him.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, taking note of the fact that your father’s attention was solely on you.

Park chuckled, taking a seat on the couch beside you, snapping his fingers. The men that had been walking behind you struggled forward with placing the trunk on the floor and opening it revealing a massive explosive that began counting down once one of them pressed a small button on the device. 

“Just a small business proposition,” Park answered rather smugly. “All of the staff have been taken care of, correct?”

“Yes sir,” one of Park’s men replied monotonously.

Park nodded focusing his attention back to your father and Mr. Jung, “I would suggest you sit down, we’ll be here for a while.”

~~~

Upon their arrival at the estate it was clear that getting inside the actual house would be much easier said than done. Seonghwa looked at the positions of each of the men that were standing guard, trying to find a way to slip past them. Wonjae subtly pointed towards the side of the house. There was enough cover for him to be able to get by unnoticed for the most part.

While everyone else was busy trying to make plans on how to get everyone out of the building with minimal bloodshed, Seonghwa silently snuck off, sticking close to the wall that offered the best chance of making it to the house without being noticed. He stayed low and made sure the vegetation hid him well enough to go unnoticed. He easily made way and got to the side of the house, continuing to stealthily move so as to not be noticed. Once at the back of the house - which was completely unguarded - he tried a door. It was unlocked and gave him the entry point he needed. Not bothering to send any message he went inside weaving through storage rooms and pantries. As he neared what he could only assume was the kitchen, he heard soft thumping against a door. He carefully opened it revealing some of the staff that worked at the estate. Wasting no time he held undo the bindings preventing them from moving and pointed in the direction they should go in.

“Try and find a way to leave the grounds from the back of the house. Don’t go to the front.”

Seonghwa continued on his way, not finding a single soul in his path until he was about to exit the kitchen. It was only then that he heard voices. Your father’s, Mr. Rat face, and Park. Given the tones of the formers, things weren’t looking good. He made his way to a wall that gave him a clear view of the living room while still keeping him out of sight. Park had a gun positioned into your side, his men all blocking the foyer. Your father and Jung were seated in seats directly across from Park, a bomb clearly separating both parties.

“We both know that you can’t secure the presidency for me alone,” Park said in response to something your father must’ve said.

The three men continued going back and forth, your father offering more in exchange for your life, Park refusing each offer time and time again.

“However, there is one way,” Park voiced, his eyes snapping in the direction of his men who quickly ran out of the foyer and out of the house.

Swat and his team must’ve made a move, Seonghwa thought. It would be now or never for him to act too.

“You all die and I avenge your deaths,” Park ended, motioning to the bomb.

At his words Seonghwa entered the room, hands at his side garnering everyone’s attention. Park smirked at the new presence in the room, gun still pointed at your side.

“Well, looks like I have more to gain in this than I originally intended.”

He slowly made his way further into the living room keeping his gaze focused on Park. There was gunfire ringing faintly from outside the walls of the estate, but no sign of anyone coming inside anytime soon. He took a brief glance at the time on the bomb, 10 minutes. 

That glance didn’t go unnoticed and Park took the opportunity to fire a shot hitting him in the thigh and sending him to the ground. Mr. Jung quickly rose to his feet, only to be shot as well, the bullet hitting him square in the chest, killing him instantly. Your scream echoed in the vast room. Park stood up holding you to him as he pointed the gun at your father who also stood up raising his hands.

“Please,” he begged, noticing as Seonghwa painfully attempted to stand back up, managing to do so. “Just let her go.”

Park noticed Seonghwa standing up and pointed the gun at him again. Your father took the chance to charge at the congressman, knocking the gun from his grip and forcing him to let go of you. Your first instinct was to move to help your father but Seonghwa - who’d managed to limp towards you - stopped you and led you back towards the kitchen and out of the house. He got you as far away from the house before turning, ready to head back inside - presumably to help your father.

“Stay here,” he uttered, holding your face. “Don’t think about following me inside.”

Not waiting for a response he headed back in, limping through the halls until he reached the living room. Your father was holding down Park with all his might, throwing a look over his shoulder and noticing the bodyguard he’d personally requested to keep you safe.

“Get out of here!” he yelled as he continued to force Park to stay down. “I can’t risk him getting away. You have to keep her safe. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”

Seonghwa looked at the timer, less than 2 minutes remained.

“Seonghwa!” your father yelled. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Your father sent him a forced smile before screaming at him to leave, his own hands struggling to hold down Park. Seonghwa hesitated before limping back towards the kitchen and barely making it outside just as an explosion went off, the force knocking him to the ground. Between that and the blood loss he floated in and out of consciousness, just managing to register your touch before he passed out.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Just Breathe - Ch.13

Summary: Six months after the events in Gotham Square Garden, Bruce is struggling to find balance between his role as Batman and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne. His life is made even more complicated when he learns that someone knows his secret identity.

Notes: This is a multi-chapter, slow-burn Battinson/original female character story with romance, angst, and crime solving!

Also available on AO3

Masterlist

Reference pics and stuff

“…Lieutenant Gordon gave us some info about this Jimmy Summers. Apparently he’s working for a major new organisation in town. Jimmy doesn’t know who's in charge, but he gave up the location of a warehouse they were using to manufacture the gas. Bruce went to scope it out, but it was abandoned by the time he got there. So we’ve been digging into the financials, trying to work out who owns it…”

Bruce was only half listening to Alfred as he brought Beth up to speed on the case. His thoughts were still on what had happened on the rooftop. 

Or what had almost happened. 

He had almost kissed Beth. 

He could blame it on his sleep deprivation. He could blame it on seeing more of her skin than he ever had before. He could blame it on the romantic setting - alone on a rooftop, with the lights of the cityscape twinkling below them…

But the truth was…he just wanted to kiss her. The circumstances were irrelevant. He was with the woman he was insanely attracted to, the woman he cared about…and he wanted to kiss her. 

For that one moment, all the reasons why touching her was a bad idea were buried and forgotten under the shear weight of his desire to press his lips against hers.  

And she hadn’t pulled away.

That was the part he was fixated on. 

He’d made his intentions clear…and she hadn’t pulled away.

“-layers of shell corporations, one of which I managed to trace to Royston Connell. He-”

The name pulled Bruce from his introspection. “Wait, did you say Royston Connell?” he asked.

Alfred paused in the action of shuffling through the documents in front of him. “You know him?”

“I know the name. Mayor Reál mentioned it at our last meeting. He’s relatively new to Gotham but he’s making a big splash in elite circles. Throwing around a lot of cash at benefits, buying up real estate, donating to political campaigns, that kind of thing.”

“So this warehouse purchase could be legit - just part of him expanding his portfolio. But somehow it fell into the wrong hands.”

Bruce tugged at his lip as he considered the possibilities. “Or he’s buying legitimacy. Maybe he’s looking to move in on Falcone’s old territory, but he needs to establish himself in the city first. Give himself some protection.”

“That’s a big leap,” Beth added. Bruce glanced over to her. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cool evening air and he watched as the colour deepened into a blush under his gaze. 

She glanced away and he turned his attention back to Alfred. “We need more intel. You keep digging and I’ll go check out Connell’s place.”

“Be careful, Bruce. If the Batman is caught investigating one of Gotham’s inner circle - and he’s innocent - it could cause problems.”

Bruce nodded and pushed his chair back from the table. He was eager to get suited up and hit the streets. His eyes met Beth’s again, and he paused, unsure what to say. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he eventually said. “And we’ll…talk.”

She bit her lip, then nodded. “Be careful,” she said, echoing Alfred’s request. 

 ———

 “No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Bruce repeated. “I won’t let you do it.”

“You wont let me?” Beth replied, her eyebrow raised. 

Their promised talk was not going to plan. Or, rather, it wasn’t happening at all. Instead they were arguing about the next steps in the scheme to uncover Royston Connell’s secrets. 

Alfred had unearthed several more properties purchased through shell companies, but no evidence to indicate Connell was crooked. 

Bruce had had even less luck.

He’d found Connell’s compound, located on the outskirts of Gotham, not too far from the old Wayne Manor. It was one of several grand estates in the area that were home to Gotham’s wealthiest citizens.

Its wealthiest and most paranoid citizens.

The security around Connell’s mansion was tight. Too tight - with motion sensors, security cameras, guard dogs and patrolling sentries.

It was a fortress. 

Which made Bruce suspicious, but which could also just be a sign of a billionaire guarding his assets. He’d taken Alfred’s advice and not tried to infiltrate, in case it back-fired against Batman. 

Which left plan B. 

A party was being hosted that night by the Kane’s - one of Gotham's premier families - at their estate outside the city.  If Connell was really looking to ingratiate himself with the elite of the city, he would be in attendance - along with the rest of Gotham’s glitterati.

It was Alfred’s idea for Bruce to be one of them. “You can get closer to him as Bruce Wayne than Batman ever could. And it would get you seen out in public again. Two birds, one stone.”

Beth had piped up at that. “I’m confused. What’s the other bird?”

“When Batman’s identity was at risk, we came up with a plan to rehabilitate his public persona,” Alfred explained. “To put as much distance between the vigilante and Bruce Wayne as possible. So I’ve been making him socialise and go on dates to boost his image.”

Beth whipped her head around to stare at Bruce. “So that’s why…” She suddenly burst out laughing. 

Bruce stared at her, relishing a sound that he hadn’t heard in too long. The mirth brought a sparkle to her eyes and she shook her head in amusement. “Wow, you must have really hated whoever sent you that letter and forced you to leave the house.”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “You could say that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding apologetic in the least. 

They stared at each other a beat longer, both smiling. 

“Ahem,” Alfred said, interrupting them. They broke eye contact at the same time and faced the older man. “So am I to press your tuxedo for tonight, Master Wayne?” he asked formally.

Bruce responded in turn. “Yes, thank you Alfred.”

“What about me?” Beth asked. 

Alfred frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I should come too,” she replied. She wriggled her bare fingers. “I can find out everything you need to know about Connell in minutes. No subterfuge needed.”

And with that, the argument began.  

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Bruce repeated. “I won’t let you do it.”

“You wont let me?” Beth replied, her eyebrow raised. 

“Did you forget how this whole thing started in the first place?” Bruce asked, gesturing to her presence in Wayne Tower. 

“No, but I don’t regret it. I would do it all over again to save that girl’s life.”

“I can’t put you in the crosshairs of another psychopath.”

“But we don’t even know he’s a psychopath. That’s the whole point. We need to either confirm he’s a crook or eliminate him so we can move on to someone else. I can do that with one touch.”

Bruce shook his head, his entire being rebelling against the thought of her putting herself in danger again. At the thought of her touching someone potentially evil. 

At the thought of her leaving the sanctuary of the tower, where no one knew where she was...and where no one could get to her. 

Bruce winced internally as he realised that Alfred was right. He hated the thought of her ever venturing out into the world again, where she was vulnerable and unprotected. 

But that wasn’t fair to her. She couldn’t stay locked away up here forever, like a princess trapped in a tower. 

She echoed his thoughts. “I’m going stir crazy in here, anyway. It will be nice to get out for a night.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Alfred mused. 

Bruce glared at him. “We can’t ask her to do this.”

“No one’s asking me,” Beth said. “I’m volunteering. I want to do this. Please, let me help.”

 ———

 It was easy to be brave in the abstract. 

But sitting in the limo outside the Kane mansion, moments from kicking off the plan, Beth was starting to feel a little trepidation. 

It was the dress, she decided. 

Or rather, the skin that wasn’t covered by the dress. 

She’d never - in her life - worn something so revealing, and she'd spent the entire thirty minute car ride regretting it. 

Alfred had arranged for a rack of dresses from Gotham’s most renowned fashion designer to be delivered to Wayne Tower - the perks of working for an infamous billionaire - and Beth had chosen the sexiest one. She needed to catch Connell’s eye in a sea of rich, beautiful socialites, so she’d opted for a fire-engine red, halter-neck gown that was cut low in the front and very low in the back. 

Alfred met her eyes in the rear view mirror and misinterpreted her nervous expression. “You look beautiful, Beth. Connell’s bound to notice you.” 

That wasn't the cause of her nerves. She was worried about her skin. A tap on the shoulder, a bump from behind…there were so many ways for people to touch her tonight and she would be powerless to stop their thoughts from intruding.

“Bruce should be arriving soon and he’ll keep an eye on you,” Alfred continued. “And as soon as you get the information, come right back here and I’ll drive you home.”

Beth gave him a tight smile, grateful to Alfred and his reassurances - even if he never addressed the issue that worried her the most. But if she mentioned it to him, he would call the whole thing off.

And she wanted to help.

She wanted to keep Bruce safe by getting that gas off the streets. 

She took a deep breath and grasped the door handle. “Wish me luck,” she said, about to push open the door.

"Wait," he called, before exiting the vehicle. He came around to her door and opened it, offering her his hand. "You need to keep up appearances," he advised under his breath. "Don't give anyone a reason to doubt your credentials. Act like you belong."

She gave him a quick nod, before striding to the main entrance where she presented her forged invitation with a haughty glance at the poor member of staff manning the guest list. 

Bruce Wayne would be able to enter tonight based on nothing but his name.

She needed a bit of subterfuge.  

She was soon waved inside and ushered to the ballroom, where she could hear the celebration in full swing. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the party.   

And the moment she did so, she felt a million eyes turn in her direction and stare. Squashing her natural inclination to slink off to the nearest dark recess and hide, she straightened her spine, lifted her chin and glided towards the bar. 

She could feel those eyes raking over the exposed skin of her back…but maybe it was her imagination. Glancing around, there were women present who were equally as daring - some more so - in their fashion choices. And they all glittered with jewels that dripped from their necks and wrists.

She probably looked plain in comparison. 

She lifted a glass of champagne from the edge of the bar and turned to take in the scene properly. Money and power saturated the room. She spotted the Mayor by the dance floor talking to the Governor of the state. An A-list movie star held court in the corner, surrounded by fawning admirers. The who’s-who of Gotham were in attendance, and she felt completely out of place. 

But she wasn’t the only one. 

Bruce entered the room at that moment, looking handsome as hell in his tuxedo, with his messy dark hair tamed into a sleek swept-back style…but his shoulders were hunched and his eyes darted around warily. 

He looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. 

How had she ever believed he was out at night enjoying the life of an idle billionaire? The date with the supermodel that had tormented her for days was so obviously a ruse - and it had all been because of her own damned letter!

The irony of that revelation had cracked her up earlier today, and she smiled now thinking about it. 

“Care to let me in on the joke?” The deep, cultured voice came from her left. The owner was a man in his late fifties or early sixties, with thick greying hair and blue eyes. He was tall, and carried himself with the arrogance of the self-important. 

Her smile slipped a fragment, before she could catch herself. She was playing a role tonight - she couldn’t afford to show her disgust every time a sleazy old man started talking to her. She was here to attract a certain sleazy old man, after all. 

But this guy wasn’t Royston Connell. So she took another sip of champagne before curtly replying. “Just a private thought.”

“Ah, it’s a shame I can’t pick up on those. I would’ve loved to have known what made you smile so.”

Her brow creased slightly at his words. He was expressing regret at not having the exact ability she possessed. It was probably a coincidence…but something about the man unnerved her.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she replied, grabbing the train of her skirt and moving further into the crowd. She chanced a look back at him and found his gaze boring into her. His face had lost its genial expression and he was looking at her searchingly. Startled, she whipped her head back around and continued walking. 

She drained her drink and placed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Or maybe Bruce’s paranoia was rubbing off on her - she was starting to imagine danger at every turn. 

It was time to find Connell and get the hell out of here. 

 ———

 The moment Bruce entered the ballroom, the wolves descended. And by wolves, he meant the opportunists who wanted to take advantage of the Wayne name and fortune: the entrepreneurs looking for investments; the philanthropes looking for donations, and the mothers looking to marry their daughters off to Gotham's most eligible bachelor. 

He muttered non-committal responses to them all as he tried to furtively look around the room for Beth. She should have arrived before him, but he was struggling to find her in the crowd, and he didn’t want to be obvious about it. They weren’t supposed to know each other, after all. He hadn’t seen her before she left, so had no idea what she was wearing…

A break in the horde of mingling socialites offered him a glimpse of a woman in red; she had her back to him and the golden stretch of silky skin on display distracted him momentarily. Then she turned, and he realised it was Beth. 

He was stunned.

And shaken to his core by the sheer force of want that hit him at the sight of her. 

He had always found her beautiful, even shuffling around the penthouse with no makeup, her glasses on, and her hair in a careless ponytail. So it wasn’t the sleek up-do, elegant makeup, or the dress that hugged her like a second skin that he found so breathtaking. 

It was just her. 

Amongst the superficial, phoney throng of Gotham’s elite, with the fake smiles that stretched the limits of their plastic surgery, she shone with a pure, innocent radiance. 

And he wanted her, like he’d never wanted anything in his life.

He wasn’t the only one.

His hands clenched so tightly he could feel his joints crack when a man approached her with a glass of wine, his leering eyes locked on her breasts. Bruce was too far away to hear the conversation between them but Beth’s shaking head and lack of smile was a clear indication that she was not interested. 

Clear to Bruce. 

But not to the creep with the wine. He kept talking, and took a step closer to Beth. And another, when she chose to step back. Bruce pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, ready to intervene - itching to intervene - when someone else got there first. 

Royston Connell. 

He was a short man, carrying more than a few extra pounds - not the most imposing physique - but something in the look in his eye was enough to scare off the creep. Connell said a few words to Beth, and she smiled widely, luring him in as planned. Bruce watched intently, no longer caring if the crowd saw him staring at Beth. He didn't want to take his eyes off her while she was in the orbit of a potential criminal mastermind. 

Connell held his hand out in invitation and Beth accepted, allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor. The slight hesitation before she placed her hand in Connell's would have been imperceptible to anyone but Bruce. 

But he knew what this was costing her.

Connell's hand came to rest on her bare back as he spun her into a slow waltz and Bruce could barely breathe with hatred at the sight of that small movement. Both for what it was doing to Beth...and the thought of another man getting to touch her soft, warm skin. 

They danced for several long moments, and with each rotation around the floor, he could see Beth's smile become more brittle and forced. Her skin lost his golden glow and she became ashen. The hand resting on Connell's shoulder clenched into a tight fist.

Unable to watch her suffering for a second more, Bruce strode onto the dance floor. He approached her from behind and addressed Connell over her shoulder. "Do you mind if I cut in?" he asked. 

She glanced up at him in surprise. But when Connell released her from his hold he could read the signs of relief on her face. She took a tiny step back, the skirt of her dress brushing against his shoes, and relaxed her clenched hand. 

"Bruce Wayne, isn't it?" Connell asked. At Bruce's nod, his smile grew. "I was told you avoid these shindigs like the plague. And yet here you are, stealing my dance partner." There was an edge to his voice, as if he wasn't used to having to cede ground to others.  

Not wanting to antagonise the man further - before he knew what he was capable of - Bruce tried to act the part of the laid-back and entitled (but ultimately harmless) rich kid. "Like you said, I rarely come to these events. But when I do, I like to spend my time with the most beautiful woman in attendance. Makes the night pass quicker." He smiled and shrugged before turning to Beth. "When I met you outside, you promised the first dance to me. I'm trying not to feel slighted."

Beth smiled up at Connell. "I did promise him that. I'm sorry, Mr Connell. But thank you for your help earlier, and for the dance."

"It was a pleasure, my dear." He grasped her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the bare skin. Bruce saw her stiffen, and he stroked his own hand down her hip, hoping that the contact would comfort her. 

Connell walked away and Beth turned to him, a question in her eyes. None of that had been in the plan - she was supposed to extricate herself from Connell and sneak back to the limo; Bruce would stay for another half an hour before meeting her back at Wayne Tower.

They weren't supposed to interact in public. 

And they definitely weren't supposed to dance. 

But Bruce wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

He took Beth into his arms and spun them around, manoeuvring them to the far edge of the dance floor where the dimmed lights offered them some privacy. She gasped at the first contact of his hands, before relaxing again at the feel of the evening gloves he was wearing. 

She nodded towards their clasped hands, a reversal from their usual interactions where she would be the one wearing the protective layer. "Thank you." 

His response was a small smile, and a squeeze of the hand he held in his. 

"Wait," she whispered, conscious of the other couples around them. "Do the gloves mean you planned for us to dance? I thought we were meant to meet up later."

It hadn't been his plan. He'd found the gloves laid out with his evening wear and had stashed them in his pocket without thinking. 

Which meant that it had been Alfred's plan. 

Bruce couldn't muster annoyance at the interfering butler, not when it meant he could hold Beth so closely. He ignored her question and whispered one of his own. "So, is it Connell?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "He's a monster. Drugs, human trafficking...he's got fingers in all those horrible pies. And he's bankrolling a biochemist to develop the paralysing gas and other weapons. The canisters you've come across on the street are just the prototypes. He wants the formula perfected so he can take out all the gangs in Gotham. He's aiming to run the whole city."

Bruce just nodded as his suspicions were confirmed. 

"Should we go?" Beth asked, angling her head to whisper close to his ear. "Work out the next steps?"

Bruce took advantage of her position to dip his head close to hers, to whisper in her ear. "It can wait." The strands of hair escaping from her chignon brushed against his cheek. He could smell her shampoo and the perfume she must have dabbed on her neck. He could almost imagine the warmth rising from his soft skin...

He wanted to press his lips to that skin and taste her.

He settled for breathing in her scent and pulling her closer with the hand on her back. He stroked his gloved thumb against her bare skin and heard her breath falter at the touch. 

But she didn't pull away. 

She draped her arm over his shoulder, bringing them closer still. 

It can wait.

He never imagined he'd ever be willing to put a mission on hold. To take time out and simply live in the moment. To enjoy something as simple as a dance. 

But then again…this wasn't a simple dance. 

It was an embrace. His first proper embrace with the woman that he desired. The woman who had become his closest friend. The woman who made his house a home, and gave him a reason to stay alive when he faced danger on the streets. The woman who understood him, as no one else did. The woman who had opened him up to hope and possibility. 

The woman he loved. 

The woman he was in love with. 

The revelation didn't shock him - a part of him had always known. In the beginning, when he'd tried to convince himself it was just curiosity; when they became friends and he denied to Alfred it was anything more...

He'd always known his feelings for her were so much deeper than he could admit.

It was the reason he ran scared when she was in danger. 

Losing her would be impossible to overcome...because she was the most important person in his life. 

He loved her.

The song floating through the air changed to an uptempo number, but he kept swaying gently with Beth, wanting to prolong this interlude with her. 

His lips were now inches from her neck. It would be so easy to breach that distance and kiss her...to release his secret through that contact and have her know the truth...

But he wanted to say the words aloud. She deserved that.

And now was the time. 

He had the strange feeling that if he didn't tell her now, he'd never find the courage again.   

He lifted his head. She looked flushed and soft and achingly gorgeous. She licked her lips and his eyes flicked to the movement before meeting her gaze again. 

"Bruce?" His name was barely a whisper, as if she too was reluctant to break the spell between them.   

He took a deep breath. ”I-I love you, Beth."

She gasped… 

Then pulled away from him, shattering the intimacy of the moment.

-----

Be sure to check out the reference pics for this chapter to see Beth’s dress!

CHAPTER 14

Taglist: @hollandorks @grunge-n-roses5 @xmxrfx @neptunesands @caramelcandescence  @blossomedfloweroflove @wanderdreamer @angelsarecallin @stephenismyking @rabbitdictionary @starshipvelociraptor @yanna-banana @batmanlovesnirvana  @bees-fart-too @hypnoash @eravanaaaah​

If you’d like to be added, just let me know…​

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable. ( Jungkook x OC)

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ] 

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Summary : 

21 year old Hwang Sera is sick of being the only human in an entire clan of vampires. As an immortal human from one of the oldest bloodlines, she is a catch. The Vampire she marries would essentially be indestructible. 

Which makes her an easy target for greedy vampires everywhere. 

Determined to keep his precious daughter safe, her father hires an old friend , Jeon Jungkook as her full time bodyguard. 

Jungkook is 35 years old ( well technically 576 years old )  , father to an adorable five year old kid and he has zero tolerance for Sera and her teenage shenanigans. But , he needs the money and he knows his son would be safe in the  Hwang clan’s massive mansion.  

And suddenly, after years of despising vampires, all Sera can think about is getting into the gorgeous vampire’s bed and maybe into his heart. 

Chapter 1

“He’s so hot.” My sister sighed for the seventeenth time and I glared at her.

“He’s mine. Back the fuck off.” I bared my non existent fangs at her and she retaliated by showing off her own inch long fangs, eyes flashing ruby red in the confines of our huge sprawling bedroom. 

The man in question, my sparkling new bodyguard wasn’t here now. He was downstairs at the party, being introduced to the others as the latest addition to our clan.

My mouth watered when I remembered his gorgeous, handsome face. And that body , God. 

Sculpted by some higher being who wanted to show off, for sure. 

I had never given much thought to losing my virginity. It certainly wasn’t by design that I hadn’t had sex yet but looking at Jeon Jungkook in a fitted black suit, midnight black hair falling into his lovely red eyes and those delicious muscles.....

I kind of believed in fate now. 

This was why I’d always been repulsed by the vampires who courted me. 

Because Jeon Jungkook had been out there, waiting for me. 

And now fate had brought him here and he was going to be mine. 

I stumbled over a stray bra, nearly face planting onto the floor . 

 God, i hated how messy Somi was but I was also eternally grateful that she had skipped out on the party tonight, volunteering to help me with the kids. 

I ran a daycare in one of the larger cottages in the estate, keeping the little fanged devils in check while the parents went about their daily lives. On nights like this, when my father hosted guests from every clan in the country for one of his lavish parties, there was always a whole bunch of bite-happy toddlers in need of supervision. 

Enter me.

 I loved babies. I’d always loved them. They were adorable. And after three years of school , I was finally, officially qualified in caring for them. 

Oh and by the way did i tell you that Jungkook had a son? Jeon Joowon was possibly the cutest five year old I’d ever seen and yes I was a little biased but that was okay. I was going to be the kids step mom , after all. 

Listen, don’t look at me like that, I just really want to be with Jungkook okay?

I tripped over the same bra when turning back around and I swore.

Focus, Sera. You can day dream about hot vampire daddy later.

“ Why do you have to throw your shit all over the place like this? “ I whined, grabbing the offensive piece of fabric and tossing it at her. She caught is so fast I  went a little cross eyed. My sister never missed an opportunity to show off her super-saiyan, vampire powers. That made her a crowd favorite with the toddlers and younglings . 

“I still don’t think your choice of a career is smart. These fanged little beasts are impossible to control... ” She commented mildly, watching me stuff two whole cartons of baby wipes into the huge backpack I had propped against the bed. I’d forgotten to restock the day care with wet wipes and it was sheer luck that I had a pair of them lying around my room.

The very idea of entering a room full of babies and toddlers without baby wipes, made me shudder. 

“Listen, they’re absolute angels when you listen to what they’re saying. Just because babies can’t talk doesn’t mean they don’t have preferences. All you really need to do is find out what each kid likes and help them feel comfortable -”

“Please stop.” She rolled her eyes and I glared at her.

“I’m a little thirsty. Can i have a sip..” She said softly and I frowned.

“You haven’t drunk from me the entire day. Are you okay?” I held my wrist out.

She shrugged , grabbing my wrist and casually sinking her fangs into the vein . Pain bloomed, familiar and somehow comforting , replaced almost at once by the gentle numbing of her venom. She drank a little and pulled back soon after, linking the puncture wounds for good measure. I watched the skin knit itself together , whole and unmarred in no time. 

Perks of being immortal. 

The knock on the door made me jump. 

“Ms Hwang?” Jungkook’s soft, husky voice came floating through the door and I grinned, cheeks aching with how wide my smile was.

“You look like a maniac. Stop smiling.” My sister looked a little alarmed and I struggled to rearrange my features. Sticking my tongue out at her, I grabbed my sweatshirt, slipping it overhead quickly. I glanced at the mirror, grimacing a bit. 

Being with toddlers meant no make up or hair left free.... and so I had a messy top bun, and just lip gloss to look presentable. While the entire party teemed with gorgeous vampires in low cut gowns and blood red lips. 

Ugh. 

I grabbed the backpack and waved to Somi.

“Come as soon as you can alright?” I begged her and she waved me off.

I rushed to the door, throwing it open and smiling wide.

“Hi oppa.” I said cheerfully.

“I’m not your oppa.” Jungkook said automatically, barely glancing at me and instead reaching for the backpack. He directed me to the stairwell on the side, the one that led straight down to the ground floor and out into the gardens. He went in first and  I followed him,  climbing down carefully. 

I sighed, taking in the mouth watering width of his shoulders, encased in a perfectly fitted jacket. He looked so handsome I wanted to cry. And although he’d been here for a whole week month now, I hadn’t managed to get into his good graces. 

“What do I call you, then?” I made to hold his hand when we reached the end of the staircase  but he shook my arm off at once.

Did I tell you that he really can’t stand me for some reason? 

“As I’ve  mentioned a dozen times already, Mr. Jeon would suffice.” He said shortly. He held the door leading out into the gardens open and I walked through. 

“That makes you seem so old.” I grimaced, shaking my head and he gave me an amused look.

“I am 576 years old.” He deadpanned. The daycare cottage was just a five minute walk from the mansion and the pathway through the garden was absolutely beautiful, well lit and covered in the brightest flowers. 

I waved off his excuse about his age. 

“you don’t look a day over twenty five to me.” I said with a shrug. He shook his head, clearly too tired to carry the conversation on. We walked in silence and I felt incredibly content, just with him near.

 And he was going to be by my side for the rest of our lives, I thought softly. I would make sure of it. I’d never felt this way about anyone. Jungkook was a good man , evident in literally everything he did. He was kind, an amazing father and such a gentleman that he made me melt. 

Jungkook had been turned at the age of 35. And so he sailed through eternity with the gorgeous good looks of a mature , well kept man. His hair was thick, just a slight bit of grey peppering the edges and his features were sharp and well defined. 

“Is Joowon in the daycare already?” I asked with a smile and he nodded curtly. 

“He has Mr. Pepper with him. He refused to leave him behind. please just make sure he still has him with him when he leaves. He can’t fall asleep without the bunny “ He said softly and I felt my heart bloom ten sizes.

“Of course, I will -”

“Jungkook !!!” The shrill voice broke the stillness of the night like a hammer through a mirror. 

I turned around with a frown only to be greeted by the sight of a very pretty, very tall vampire in a blood red bodycon dress and a neckline that plunged all the way to her belly button. She had ruby red lips, and well made eyes. Eyes that now flashed red , dilating as they ran up and down his body. 

I felt myself clenching my fists. 

“I’m getting late....we need to go, I grabbed his arm trying to tug him along but he didn’t budge. i glanced at his face and felt my heart shatter at the small smile playing around his lips.

“Helena..... Surprise seeing you here....” He drawled, voice so much deeper than usual and I bit my lips. They knew each other? 

The vampire had reached us now and she gave me a disdainful smile.

“Who’s this?” She asked with a laugh, “ Are you babysitting now, Jeon?”

I bristled. To my utter chagrin, Jungkook laughed to.

“She’s the kid I’m watching. The Immortal human  of the Hwang clan.” He intoned dully. 

The lady’s brows went up in surprise.

“:The rumors are true, ....The Hwang clan’s hidden jewel.....with skin like the rarest pearl and eyes that steal souls. Fiercely guarded ...a beauty like no other.... I thought they were exaggerating, but I see they were not. . You’re exquisite.” She commented , seemingly genuine in the compliment as her eyes roved over my features. 

“ Um.. thanks?” I shrugged, not particularly flattered by the extravagant description.  

The poets in my clan tended to be a bit overdramatic at times. 

. She laughed.

“Are you unavailable for the night, then Jeon?” She turned her flashing eyes on him .

My jaw nearly dropped.

Did this bitch really just proposition-

“Afraid so.... Raincheck?” Jungkook smiled wide and he looked so beautiful that I had to bit my lips to stop from moaning. 

Helena waved softly, eyes shifting back to me.

“Be safe, little human. When the sun goes down, the ghouls come out to play.” She grinned wide, letting her fangs grow long, past her lower lip, eyes red and bloody. 

I stared right back. She laughed and waved before floating away into the night. 

Jungkook chuckled. 

“You’re not intimidated by us, then.” He said mildly as we began walking again.

“I spent the entirety of my childhood playing with vampires. Do you really think they didn’t spend every waking hour trying to scare me to death?” 

He gave me soft smile, and then went back to staring straight ahead. 

I relaxed when the familiar cottage came into view, the sound of laughing kids reaching me. 

I held my hand out for the backpack and Jungkook gave it to me.

“I’ll just check out the backyard and see if al the gates are secure and then I’ll be right outside the door, alright? Call out if you need me...” He said sharply 

“Will you come even if I call you oppa?” I bit my lips, grinning and he flicked my nose. 

“Behave.” He said shortly. I sighed.

“I’m not a kid, you know.” I said softly and he gave me a look.

“You are to me. Now get inside.” 

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

“There’s a monster behind the tree and I’m Hawkeye because I have the bow and arrow and Jieun is the princess.” Joowon said brightly, showing off the toy bow and arrow in his hand and I grinned, taking in his exquisite features. He looked strikingly like his father , except for the two adorable dimples that showed up everytime he smiled.

“That’s amazing... do you like fighting monsters?” I asked with a grin holding my arms out for him and he hugged me happily.

“Yes, I like fighting monsters and I like Mr. Pepper.” He waved the stuffed bunny in my face. 

“Make sure you keep him safe, alright? “ I stroked the soft skin of the 

“So what color does your daddy like?” I asked with a grin. I felt a sharp kick on my shin and I turned to my sister. 

“Don’t use the fucking kid for your sinful aims, you dingbat!” She hissed and I glared at her. 

“I did no such thing...I was just making conversation....” I hissed back.

“Dad likes black.” Joowon answered dutifully and I ruffled his hair. Jieun appeared then, having waited for her prince and gotten bored. She tugged on Joowon’s arm and I let him go, watching the two of them run off. 

“Its only been a month, Sera.... I think you should tone down the infatuation. You know dad would never approve.” My sister said gently and I frowned.

“No he won’t, Dad loves me , he wants me to be happy.” I said shortly. 

“Yes, but not with Jungkook. He’s a rogue vampire. He doesn’t have a clan. He has a kid ...”

“An angel of a kid...”

“he has a kid whose mother he had to kill because she was a bloodthirsty witch.” 

i stared at my sister feeling anger build inside me.

“What does any of that have to do with how I feel about him?” I demanded , moving to stop one of the littles from tripping over a stray rubik’s cube. 

“ You’re special. You’re being courted by some of the richest, most powerful  vampires in the country and you want to go after the rogue , broke vampire who’s only here because he needs the money and the safety of our clan?” 

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” I said firmly.

Somi sighed.

“I’m just saying. Don’t be so blatantly open about your feelings. You’ll be putting a target on Jungkook’s back.” 

I exhaled sharply. 

“If anyone tries to hurt him, they die.” I said softly.

Somi chuckled.

“I know.... but still, he’s not looking for trouble. Don’t bring it to his doorstep.” 

I didn’t reply, moving quickly to the other side of the room. 

the words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Mostly because my sister was right. 

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

i stared at the tall strapping vampire, trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

“What do you mean he isn’t here for the night?” I demanded. 

“He’s a little tired. He told me had a little too much to drink and he wants to sleep it off. I’ll be here instead ... Just for tonight.” He tried to smile reassuringly and I was momentarily distracted by very deep dimples  but I could feel myself fuming. 

“and he didn’t think of saying that to me himself? He had to run off while i was closing up the cottage?” I glared. 

The Vampire chuckled. 

“He told me you might protest.”

“Of course i protest, I feel safer with him...” I said sharply.

The Vampire gave me a deep sigh.

“I’ve been doing this for three centuries, Miss Hwang. You’re definitely safe with me.” He bowed his head.

“What’s your name?” I demanded. 

“Kim Namjoon.” 

“Fine , Kim Namjoon ssi.... Let’s go. “ 

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

Giving Namjoon the slip was a lot easier than I thought. I waited for him to greet my great uncle, and slipped between two waiters carrying blood cocktails and weaved into the crowd easily. 

Jungkook’s bedroom was next to mine and it took me less than a minute to race up the stairs and to his room.

i banged on the door , determined to see for myself just how drunk he’d gotten. 

The door opened and i took a deep breath.

“How dare you leave me-” 

I froze when I realized that he was shirtless, fresh out of the shower. Water dripped down his torso , like little starbursts of liquid light and my mouth went dry. I swallowed, staring at the tightly packed abs, the dip of his v line as it disappeared into a fluffy white towel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled angrily.

My eyes flew to meet his and then my gaze caught something red on his bed and I peered over his shoulder.

Pain lanced through my heart so sharp that I felt like I’d taken a fucking brick to my chest. 

The sight of Helena, naked except for a red bra, stretched out on his bed got burned into my brain and I choked.

“You-” I began but he grabbed my arm, so hard that I knew I would bruise. He yanked me away from the threshold of his room, dragging me to the middle of the hallway as he slammed the door to his room shut.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?”

“You ditched me to get laid? “ I hissed in disbelief.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this-”

“Is she your girlfriend-”

“Sera-” he shook me again but I refused to back down. I had to know.

“Are you in love with her?!!!” I demanded, my heart breaking .

Jungkook growled.

“It’s none of your damned business!!” He snapped angrily .

“It is !!” I said shrilly.

“Why on earth-”

“Because I’m in love with you!!” I shouted and he froze. 

He let go of me like he’d been burned and stepped back, staring at me wide eyed,. 

“What did you just say?” He demanded.

“I want you. I want you to court me-”

“Sera stop.” He said sharply 

“I’m not joking...I like you and-”

“Shut up.” He growled, his voice shaking. 

I swallowed.

“If you say something as asinine as that to me , ever again... I  will  make you regret it. ” He warned softly.

I felt my heart jerk in panic.

“Jungkook-”

“It’s Mr. Jeon to you!!!” He growled. 

I bit my lips, staring at my feet.

“I’m going to pretend this never happened. You’re going to go to your room and wait for Namjoon. If anything like this ever happens again, I’m telling your father.” 

I laughed bitterly.

“I’m not fucking twelve years old you son of a bitch. Stop talking to me like I’m your toy or something !” I snarled.

“If you were my toy I would fucking spank you till you cry and lock you in a damn room!” He hissed. 

I flinched.

He took a deep shaky breath. 

“This never happened.” He said sharply. “ I’m not one of your boytoys. I have no interest in fledgling humans who know nothing about life. That's not the kind of woman I’m looking for. You’re not the kind of woman I’m looking for because you aren’t even a woman yet.” 

“ Jungkook !!!” Namjoon’s voice rang through the hallway and I stepped back. 

“Have a good night with your whore, Mr. Jeon.” I snapped, before turning on my heel and leaving. 

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

Author’s Note : Hot DILF! Vampire Jungkook is hot.  This brings back fond memories of me panting after my husband as a nineteen year old brat . I was a devilish teenager smitten with a twenty seven year old man. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed :D

[writer-akihiko]

Hello!

Ikemen sé request

the warlords realizing that Mc is very popular with their soldiers. Sending love letters and stuff.

IkeSen Boys + Popular!MC

This was so cute ahhh although I'm sorry if it's a little short, there's a lot of Ikemen to get through. Thank you and I hope you like this work!

Nobunaga Oda

Nobunaga thought it was quite odd that there were a lot of presents delivered to you... Which he didn't gift...

After some digging, he found out that you had garnered some popularity after a campaign

He was dumbfounded at the idea that other men could be attracted to you

He didn't quite like that, but being the person he is he did tell you his thoughts

You insisted that you wanted to keep some gifts to distribute to your maids. He agreed, but he just buys better gifts for you anyway

He's not as jealous as you'd expect, since the man is also a bit egotistical when it comes to himself and your feelings for him

"Oh... Nobunaga..." You wanted to laugh at how childish he was but it wouldn't be in the right taste.

You stopped your giggling when Nobunaga muttered, "I could transfer whoever sent those gifts to you away..."

"At least let me keep some!"

He silenced you with a quick kiss. "Whatever you like from the pile, I'll purchase better ones from the merchants."

Hideyoshi Toyotomi

He doesn't want to admit that he's jealous, but he is. He unknowingly calls out the soldier that was about to gift you a present in an oh so convenient timing…

He doesn't take it to such extremes, he still respects the other soldiers. Although, he found it quite tempting from time to time to not bring you along for some campaigns

In this case, he wished that Nobunaga hadn't demanded such things of you. He really does appreciate your skills on the field, but he doesn't like that he can't control how much attention you're getting

He only realises it once someone points it out to him, or when someone sends you a letter. Letters are an absolute no from him

"Lord Hideyoshi, what should I do with these letters for YN?"

"Burn them."

"Lord Hideyoshi, what should I do with these letters from the townswomen?"

"Oh, send them to my office-"

YN smacked Hideyoshi up in the head. "You hypocrite."

Mitsunari Ishida

Mitsunari did notice that you gained a lot of attention, but he knew that it was only from your good merits and character

In no way did he ever thought it was romantic, until Mitsuhide pointed it out

He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Sure, he was happy that a lot of people thought you were a wonderful person

However a small inkling of him wanted to keep it to himself

Seeing the multitude of gifts for you, the guilt hit him hard. What if you wanted gifts all along?

"YN, do you like it when those soldiers give you gifts?" He asked, as you opened another gift that consisted of a bunch of fabrics.

"I do appreciate it," You admitted. "But I don't plan to keep them for long. I share any snacks with the maids and fabrics with the seamstresses. Why?"

He didn't reply, except for the blush that bloomed on his cheeks.

You pecked his cheek, understanding what he meant. "You have no reason to be jealous, my sweet angel."

Mitsuhide Akechi

Not a lot of people can read him, and he uses that to his advantage. He sneaks up on those who had planned to give you gifts, and instead direct their attention to another maid or townswoman

In the end, with this strategy, you don't receive much gifts from soldiers. This doesn't work on his fellow warlords however

With you, he doesn't hide his frown when people like Shingen or Masamune send you gifts

He doesn't care for what reason it was for, the gift shall not be touched by you

"Mitsuhide? Have you seen a package from Masamune? He sent some really pretty Oshu fabrics for me…"

He sipped on his bland concoction of tea. "Why my dear, I wonder where it could be…"

You sighed. "You gave it away didn't you? Now I have to write to Masamune- Ah!"

Before you could continue any thoughts, your charming kitsune sweeped you up in his arms, smiling coyly at you. "Write to him? I'm afraid my jealousy won't allow that YN… I'd certainly be interested in writing my thoughts of you on your body…"

Ieyasu Tokugawa

Ieyasu surprisingly doesn't notice any traffic of gifts to you. It might be due to the fact that he publicly ban any gifters from his estate…

You still manage to get some from soldiers passing by or Ieyasu's fellow warlords gifting you as a token of appreciation

Only when you bring the gift home is when he realises how popular you are. He doesn't initially care, but similarly to Hideyoshi, he gets rid of any letters

He doesn't burn them, but he moreso stages it so you'd see adorable Wasabi chewing on the papers

"Hey Ieyasu? Oh-" You dropped to your knees, seeing Wasabi with some paper in its mouth once again. "Wasabi, you should know better than to chew on my letters! Ha… Looks like I have to apologise later on."

"Do you even remember the soldier that gave you the letter?" He looked up from his work to ask you.

You pouted. "No… But I'm sure I can ask around!"

He patted you head. "Don't waste your time on that. The maids should be done with dinner now. Let's go and eat."

Masamune Date

He notices your popularity early on, but he's not too bothered about it. In fact, he shows off that you and him are in a relationship

It might be a 'rubbing salt in wound' move but he doesn't care. He has a thrill of seeing some of his jealous subordinates, which he trusts that it is in all good favour

With the way he approached it, most admired you in a non-romantic way, and for those few that actually do, Masamune opts for a duel as a 'wholesome' way to solve the solution

The duels end up with him winning, and the challenger often with some pointers from Masamune during fighting

You wiped off Masamune's sweat from his brow, wondering why he suddenly went up to that random soldier. "Did something happen?"

"Didn't he give you that gift earlier?" He asked, confused. He put up a good fight, although he'd probably have to answer to Hideyoshi since the boy was under his army…

You shook your head. "It wasn't. He has a twin, and the twin is working under Mitsunari…"

Masamune stood up, groaning. "Looks like I have another duel YN. I'll be back by dinner!"

"H-Hoi! Masamune!"

Kenshin Uesugi

Jealousy plus Uesugi Kenshin equals disaster in Kasugayama Castle

Kenshin was shocked when he saw the servants carrying the presents in, specifically addressed to 'Princess YN'

No one could stop him from drawing his sword and rushing to the training grounds, where every poor soldier who passed by was forced to duel him

Yukimura and Sasuke were already battered from the multiple duels they had to face. You pitied the poor souls, so you sent some of your maids to heal up the soldiers that faced his wrath

Holding one of your many bunny children, you walked up to your soon-to-be husband, smiling at him. "Kenshin my dear, we should be on our way to our stroll…"

He tugged off the upper part of his kimono, his torso and upper body dripping with sweat from the fights. "I'll be with you YN, I just need to cool off. I shouldn't dirty you with my sweat."

For as much as you wanted to be proper, you couldn't help but stare at your perfectly sculpted fiance. "T-Take you time my dear."

Sasuke Sarutobi

For the many things he was dense about, this was not one of them. He saw the way some of the Nokizaru looked at you

He of course told them off, but he still had an inkling that some didn't get the memo

Within whatever wisdom he had left, he somehow consulted Kenshin on how to resolve this, which ended up Sasuke battling about half of the Nokizaru

You had no words on why half the men were injured and why your boyfriend was bruised as well. Initially you thought it was from some dispute, but Yukimura so kindly filled you in

You tightened the bandage around Sasuke's arm, giving a disappointed look to the group of ninja. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"We're sorry Princess YN."

"And what do you have to say, Sarutobi Sasuke?" You huffed.

"I won't go to Kenshin for romantic advice."

"Good."

Shingen Takeda

He is not oblivious to your charms, as well as the way other people were attracted to your charms

He'd be lying if he said he weren't jealous. Of course he was, but he didn't plan to do anything malicious to whoever sent you gifts

They were free to waste their money and/or time, it wasn't his business. He'd however, make it clear that you were taken

He's not above doting you in public, and sneaking kisses in the markets or kissing you as the rain goes by. He's very calm about it, since he sees the way you were attracted to him

"S-Shingen! We're going to a war council!" You patted his face away from your own, as the much taller man held you in his embrace.

"Embarrassed Princess?" He teased, giving you his sweetest smile reserved just for you. "But we've done many affectionate things in public…" "People will see!"

He kissed your cheek. "Let them see how in love we are."

Yukimura Sanada

He is another victim of Kenshin's not-so great love advice, hesitating to pick up his spear at anyone who sent you glances. Well… it was Kenshin's advice… and no way he'd risk getting teased by Shingen by asking him!

He then opted for a silent jealous strategy, keeping you by him and covering you with his body everytime he felt someone looking at you

You wondered why he was acting so odd, after all, you just wanted to go on a nice stroll with Yuki and Muramasa

Luckily, to Yuki's benefit, Muramasa is a good wolf who knows to rip apart any letters that come to you or hound after any men that look at you the wrong way

"Is it just me, or is Muramasa a little more energetic than usual?" You asked your boyfriend as you folded your kimono underneath you to sit on the impromptu picnic blanket.

Yuki shook his head, handing you over the basket of food. "He's probably just excited to see us… I think…" He said, as Muramasa runs off into the bushes with what he could see was a paper in his mouth.

Kennyo

Kennyo doesn't really know what to do with this information. He's quite unsure if you wanted the attention or not

He thought the issue didn't need to be brought to your attention, as most of those around you are most likely his subordinates

He could… simply remind them of the holistic teachings that was preached to them

It does a good effect, as most quickly dispelled any sort of romantic attraction

He doesn't mind his subordinates admiring you out of respect, as he thinks you deserve such respect for your deeds

You clapped your hands after hearing your boyfriend's sermons. "You impress me every time my beloved," You said, pecking him on the cheek. "I'm always in awe when you deliver your preachings."

He shied away from you, "My dear, you praise me so…" He couldn’t stop repeating those praises over and over in his head, wanting to pen down the exact words you said. "Thank you YN."

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their  children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

no

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

��IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 4

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2 || C.3

Chapter Four:

Here’s the thing.

Sam always knew that he and his brother were destined for something great. And, well, he can’t say that greatness didn’t fall on them. Yeah, sure, he spent thirteen years in jail. Who hasn’t? But despite that little hiccup in his life, Sam thinks that he’s done pretty well for himself. He’s discovered a lost city or two, with and without his brother, held some artifacts that were rumored to only be from stories, and tried one of the cigars from Sully’s collection. He even has a place to call his own now, his name on the mailbox downstairs, a doorman who greets him.

Honestly, it’s all he’s ever wanted growing up. More, even. Back in Panama, all he thought he wanted, besides, well, getting out, was to find Avery’s treasure with Nathan. It was that thought that kept him going most days. The idea of finding four hundred million worth of treasure! That was the dream. He and Nathan could finally settle down, or, rather, their version of it. Because they weren’t going to have a normal life. That was never in the cards for them growing up, but it was a nice thought, not having to worry about food or a place to stay.

And Sam hasn’t had to worry about that for a long time. He felt empty after Libertalia, that his story was only just beginning while Nathan’s was coming to a close. There are still things he wants to see, to do.

Time, he realized long ago, was something that he could lose so easily and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

So he went on more adventures, climbed higher mountains, picked up little trinkets (a habit he got from his little brother, starting his own little collection) along the way to bigger, better things. (It’s just a shame that some things were destroyed along the way, like statues and buildings, but what can he say? It runs in the family.)

But tonight, after a long flight and an uncomfortable chair, all Sam wants to do is go to her and crash on her bed.

Because although Sam has a place to call home, a big apartment that’s filled with his stuff, clothes, souvenirs, a fish…it feels empty. Cold. Even if he had all the money in the world, Sam can’t shake off that feeling that he shouldn’t have too much. That in just a blink of an eye, all this could be gone. Because that has happened before—moving from place to place, packing what you can immediately get your hands on.

Sam wants riches, searches for them all over the world, but deep down he knows he doesn’t know what to do with them. That even if he dreams of more, he only knows how to live with enough.

So, he only has one pillow, a blanket. A towel and an extra, shampoo (the kind that has body soap mixed with it. 2 in 1! What a deal) and deodorant. Clothes, he knows to get the sturdy kind, the kind that won’t rip easily, that stains won’t be too obvious on. Shoes, too. He gets the ones that have good traction, that won’t chafe his feet, won’t deteriorate when wet.

The fish, Jim Hawkins—Jimmy was an attempt to liven up the place. To make it seem homey, to keep him company. But there’s only so much you can do with a fish and Sam can’t deck out Jim’s aquarium any more than he already has. He’s afraid that something would fall on the poor thing, that maybe there’s more inside Jimmy’s castle than meets the eye.

“Welcome home.”

“I’m ho…ome?” Sam drops his bag to the floor, more from being too tired to carry it than shock. He’d resigned to seeing her tomorrow, that it was too late to go over now, but there she is, curled up on his couch, toes peeking out from under a throw blanket. It’s hers. Sam recognizes it easily. It’s the same one she has thrown over her arm chair, the same chair Sam likes to lounge on when he’s found a good book to read.

“How was your trip?” She looks so cozy on his couch. Hands wrapped around an orange mug he’s never seen before, book on her lap. She doesn’t look like she going to get up and Sam can’t blame her. He sort of wants to curl up next to her, somehow squeeze his large frame in the remaining space. “Get me anything nice?”

“I, uh,” Sam’s swallows, blinking. “I’m not dreaming, right? Like, I didn’t get knocked out when I fell off the mountain?”

“You fell off what?” She’s moving to stand up, mug thankfully placed back on the table despite her haste, and Sam doesn’t want her to do that.

“No. No, don’t get up.”

She gets up anyway, blanket falling to the floor, and, oh god, she’s wearing pajamas, oranges printed all over her cotton shorts. She’s by his side in seconds, hands reaching up to his face, bringing him down to her height so she can get a better look at him.

“Ouch,” Sam says, the movement too fast for his aching body. His muscles are sore and the trip home didn’t do them any favors. But she thinks that it’s her fault, that she’s hurt him and her hands are in the air, her eyes wide with both surprise and concern. “It’s not you. It’s just…,” Sam hates to say it, makes him feel old, but, “My back. I hit the ground pretty hard.”

“I feel dumb for asking…but are you okay?” Her hands are back on him, her touch gentle and giving comfort Sam didn’t know he needed. She doesn’t seem to know what to do first, how to check for injuries, but the thought is enough, her being here is enough, makes him feel better.

“Well, I’m alive,” Sam brings up his hand to push her hair away from her face. It’s soft, slightly damp from a shower. Oh. He probably needs one of those. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.”

“Can you…,” she hesitates, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and Sam bends down on reflex, damn his back, and kisses her. She relaxes, sighs, and pulls away, blushing. “Uhm, I, huh?”

“Can I…?” Sam prompts, smirking.

“Now I’m embarrassed to ask.”

“C’mon, princess, don’t leave me hanging. What is it?”

“Can you, uh, do you need help?”

“Do I need help?” Sam grins. “In the shower? Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

…

Sam mentioned it to Nathan before, when they were in Italy, trying to find their way into the Rossi Estate. When you’re locked up with no hope of being let out, it’s the little things you miss the most.  

And Sam didn’t think that there was much to miss anymore now that he was out. He can ride his motorcycle anywhere he wants, go to his own bathroom any damn time he pleases, shower, eat, sleep, drink without permission. He can call Nathan and Sully and Elena without request, without reason. He can stay indoors or go outside without a schedule. He can live. The simple joys of being alive, Sam is able to enjoy them now, in much a greater magnitude than he has ever before.

Citrus, he remembers telling Nathan, he had missed the smell of citrus. The novelty of fresh fruit. The refreshing scent, the taste. The sweetness on his tongue.

“Clementine,” Sam gasps out without thinking, his mind stuck on things he missed and maybe this last trip had gone on longer than he liked.

He’s brought back to earth when the movement stops, even when he adjusts his grip, tries to get her going again, to move her hips the way he knows they both like. He opens his eyes to look at her when she doesn’t budge and she’s frowning at him, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows. An angry look.

“That’s not my name,” she says and it looks like she’s going to get off of him and, goddammit, why does she keep doing that?

“What?” Sam’s confused, blood not quite in his head.

“You called me Clementine.” Her tone is upset. Hurt. Sam’s never heard her speak like this before. “Who the hell is that?”

“Shit,” Sam breathes out. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah. No shit.” And there she goes, lifting herself off of him as quickly as she had sunk onto him half an hour ago. Sam lets out a grunt. His ribs are bruised yet she flattens her hands on his chest to support herself. She’s doing it on purpose. She was careful before. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to do this, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sam’s cold without her, for more reasons than one, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something, anything, now, she’s going to be out that door before he can even finish saying Hail Mary. And no amount of prayer, to any sort of god out there, is going to bring her back.

So, Sam swallows down his pride, and says, “It’s you.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that before. ‘Just you.’ How can I-I be so stu-stupid?” Her voice wavers and shit she’s crying, isn’t she? He made her cry.

“And I mean that. Hey, come here.” Sam doesn’t want to hold her too tightly, afraid to hurt her, but he has to know that she isn’t going to leave, that she’s going to stay and listen to him. She turns to look at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, nose red, lips quivering, and Sam’s heart just about breaks. He did that. He’s never felt more like an asshole. “It is just you. It has been since the start. I promise.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just waits. And Sam feels like he’s back in school, standing in front of his class, giving a presentation.

“I, uh, did I ever tell you that I was in prison once?” Sam manages to get out. He always knew he was going to have this conversation with her, knew that with how their relationship was going, he couldn’t keep her in the dark much longer, but he had hoped that he would at least be wearing pants for this.

“No,” she breathes out, wiping her nose with a tissue she got from his bedside table. Huh. Was that tissue box always there? Anyway. “But I figured.”

“The tattoos?”

“No,” she says again and by some miracle there’s a smile on her lips. It’s small, gone with a blink of an eye, but Sam knows what he saw, has all of her smiles memorized. “Someone like you just has the talent of getting into trouble.”

And Sam can’t help it. He lets out a laugh because it’s true. She knows him.

“Well, I can’t deny that. But anyway,” He clears his throat. Was talking always this hard? “When I was in prison. In Panama—that’s important. This was when I was in Panama. I was there for thirteen years and, Jesus, time moves differently there. It’s like the days can’t go by fast enough but next thing you know a year has passed by, two, three, and you’ve lost your youth because some asshole decided to get all stabby with the guard.”

The words are spilling out, like he can’t get them out of him fast enough. Because he needs her to know, to understand.

“It wasn’t my fault. Well, okay, I was there on purpose at first, but those thirteen years were like a punishment for what that asshole did. I was supposed to die there. We were escaping, we were almost there, almost free, but I got shot and I fell. The guards found me and got some ‘doctors’ to patch me up. They made sure that if I was going to die, I was going to die because I rotted in that hellhole.”

Sam can see that she’s listening, that she’s hanging onto every word so he continues, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop.

“I was only in my twenties. There was so much I wanted to see, to do. Nathan and I had plans, dreams. We were going to go all over the world. But I was stuck there. Alone. And no one knew that I was alive. It’s like I stopped existing. Sometimes.” The words are stuck. But Sam forces them out. “Sometimes I, uh, I wished it were true, that it would be better if I was just gone. That I had just died back there.”

She’s crying again and Sam wipes her tears for her, brings her closer to him. Because these tears aren’t because of him anymore, but for him. And isn’t that something? Having someone cry for you.

“You don’t realize how much you have until everything is practically ripped away from you. I didn’t have any privacy. I…I couldn’t take a leak when I needed to. You just end up thinking, cuz there really isn’t much to do but think, about what you had. How life was good. And I, I just missed everything. I missed Nathan, of course, he’s my little brother. But, it’s the small things, too. Like riding my bike into the sunset. Grass beneath my feet. A glass of cold water. And…”

“And?” She asks, eyes focused on the gunshot scars on his abdomen, fingers tracing their shape. It tickles.

“And the smell of citrus.” He makes her look at him because this is important. The most important thing. “I missed the smell of citrus. The taste. And when I was in Japan, I thought about it again. The things I missed back here, back at home. And it’s citrus—you. I missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. I could have called Nathan. Elena, even. To come over here but I called you because,” Sam clears his throat once more. “Because I wanted you here. I had hoped you would be here when I came back. And you were.”

She’s quiet, eyes searching. And Sam’s poured out his heart and soul and now he’s got nothing else to do but wait and see what she does with it. Is this what being honest is like? Being vulnerable? It’s torture. Sam hates it. But he can also think of worse things and that keeps him rooted in his spot, trying to keep his face as honest as he can. Years of hiding is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

“You must have been so lonely.” Is what she says, hands back on his gunshot wounds. She’s transfixed. Almost like she’s been wondering about them forever. And maybe she has. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Eh. It’s all in the past,” Sam says with a shrug. Because it is in the past. He’s made his peace with it. Mostly. Some things are harder to shake off than others but he’s okay now. He’s built from strong stuff, a sturdy breed. “But, y’know. You’re, uh, killing me here.”

“Killing you?”

“Cuz I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Sam admits. It’s all truth from here on out, huh? “I can’t read you right now. Are you gonna leave? Punch me in the face? Report me? Please don’t report me. I’d really hate to go back to jail. Nathan would kill me. And I still have a few years left to go, y’know?”

She smiles and Sam realizes that he was rambling. He takes a breath, feels himself calm down. Damn. He needs a cigarette. Maybe two. Are his hands shaking? They’re definitely shaking.

“I think you have more than a ‘few years,’” she says, fingers tracing scars. Sam twitches from her touch. Is this what it feels like when he touches her back? “Especially if you stop smoking.”

“I’ve heard it all before.”

“You should start listening.”

“Ah. Someday.” Sam takes her hand in his, mostly to stop her stop her from tickling him, but also to bring them back on topic. Because she still hasn’t said anything. Nothing to give him an idea where they go from here, if there is somewhere to go from here. “So?”

“So…” She leans close, talks in a whisper, like if she speaks any louder, something might shift, break this bubble that they’re in. “So, you have to tell me what you want, Sam.” It’s an echo of what he said to her months ago, a vulnerable, fragile moment just like this. “So I know what to give you.”

But this time is different because she’s always been more generous than him, always been willing to give.

And Sam’s always been someone to take what he wants and he’ll be damned if this time is any different.

“It would be nice if you stayed.”

“Stay? I can do that.”

...

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

...

Sam’s apartment was inspired by @missdictatorme​ ‘s post

[kjack89]

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 5/?)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage shenanigan-fest, and we’ve actually gotten to the marriage part! Or, at least, the wedding.  (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3)

As much as this Author positively loathes to gloat, there comes a time when even the most modest among us must utter those four words everyone hates to hear: I told you so.

Both the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire emerged from their duel with not a scratch upon them and with the Marquess sworn to uphold the honor of Mr. Grantaire’s sister and rectify the situation he caused by joining her in matrimony. As befits the magnitude of the scandal, a special license has been purchased – for who knows what sum – so that the whole affair can be concluded before the Dowager Marchioness even has a chance to book a carriage out to the country to meet her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Much to the relief of both the Marquess and his fiancée, this Author presumes. 

Still, a wedding may signal an end to impropriety, but scandals are wont to continue of their own accord, especially when one can hardly imagine the Marquess settling quickly or quietly into married life. A storm is brewing, one way or another, but rest assured, Dear Reader – this Author will be here to cover whatever may come next. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 MAY 1831

Enjolras hated to admit it, but he was nervous.

He really hadn’t thought he was going to be, but as he stood at the front of the small, unassuming chapel dressed in the best clothes he could purchase on a moment’s notice from the village, his stomach felt like it was doing somersaults somewhere around his knees, and his palms were sweating so much that he was tempted to wipe them on his trousers.

Perhaps nerves were to be expected. After all, it wasn’t everyday that he got married.

Granted, the wedding itself was going to be a simple affair, just Enjolras with Madame Hucheloup in front of the vicar, whom Enjolras had met once, briefly, the prior day and who had been as drunk as Grantaire had promised, so much so that when Grantaire told him that Enjolras would be marrying his sister, the man did not even hesitate, despite presiding over her burial some two decades prior. He seemed equally drunk that morning, swaying slightly as he hummed off-key, waiting for the ceremony to start.

Joining Enjolras and his not-so-blushing fake bride would be Grantaire and Le Cabuc as witnesses, with only the four of them any wiser to the fact that the entire thing was a farce. Then the only final piece of the puzzle was getting a suitable dowry from Grantaire to give to his mother, and then, finally, Enjolras would be free.

Well, free until such a time came as when he would need to ‘bury’ his fake wife, but that was a future problem, and one he was not inclined to think too closely about at the moment.

Especially when he had much bigger concerns: particularly, the fact that Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup were running late.

He glanced over at Le Cabuc, who looked almost bored, and chanced a look back at the vicar, who didn’t seem at all concerned with the fact that time was stretching on and there was no sight of either of them. Enjolras was just about to excuse himself to go track down Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup himself when the woman in question appeared in the back of the parish, out of breath and – far more concerning – dressed in her usual clothes and not the wedding dress that Enjolras had dutifully purchased to continue the façade, clutching a valise assumedly containing other clothes.

Enjolras frowned and hurried to intercept her. “Beg pardon,” she said breathlessly, her face flushed red as if she had run the entire way from the house. “But there’s been a change.”

“A change?” Enjolras repeated, stupidly. “What kind of change?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Himself is on his way, he’ll explain everything.”

Enjolras would have much preferred that she explain, but given that she looked like she was about to topple over at any given moment, he supposed the polite thing to do was to walk her to a seat before heading to the back of the chapel to await Grantaire and whatever explanation he brought.

So he did just that, depositing her in a chair before hurrying to the chapel door to intercept Grantaire and find out just what explanation he could possibly—

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Grantaire hurrying towards him, dressed not in his Sunday best as was anticipated but rather wearing, of all the garments in the world, the wedding dress.

Enjolras was certain his mouth fell open as he stared at Grantaire, temporarily unable to speak. There was a very small, distracted part of his brain that noticed that despite the dress not having been tailored for him by any stretch, it somehow fit Grantaire rather pleasingly.

He shook his head to clear it of that thought and wrenched his mouth open. “What in the bloody hell—”

“Language,” Grantaire chided, sounding stressed as he finally arrived at the door. “We are on consecrated ground, after all.”

It was a patently absurd thing to say, and accounted for Enjolras spluttering in response, “Yes, we are, so perhaps you can explain what in God’s name you’re wearing?!”

Grantaire drew himself up to his full height and scowled at Enjolras. “I’m wearing a wedding dress,” he said. “As for the reason I am wearing said wedding dress, which I believe is more to the point of what you’re asking, you should know. You’re the one who helped pass the damned thing.” Enjolras stared blankly and Grantaire elaborated, “The law was updated recently, requiring one male and one female witness for any nuptial ceremony.”

Enjolras had a sudden, horrible memory of celebrating a law passed through the House of Lords that was meant to help keep young women from being forced into marriage with their father and brother as the sole witnesses, an all-too-common occurrence. Granted, the efficacy of the law remained to be seen, since too many mothers were frequently willing to go along with such plans, but it was a start, and—

He shook his head to clear it. “And so Madame Hucheloup needs to be one of the witnesses,” he said instead, finally putting together the pieces to which Grantaire had been alluding in his usual, maddening way.

“Well, I thought about simply making up a woman’s name and forging the signature on the certificate,” Grantaire said, “but seeing as how I rather suspect that this particular marriage certificate will face more scrutiny than most, it didn’t seem a particularly wise course of action.”

Grantaire was almost certainly correct about that, but still Enjolras felt something like despair. “Was there no other woman that you could get to be a witness?” he asked, a bit desperately.

“Another woman whom I trust with my reputation, and far more importantly, with yours?” Grantaire asked, arching an eyebrow. “At this late of date?”

“Then someone who would pretend to be a bride for the day?”

Enjolras knew it was an idiotic question the moment he blurted it, and the look Grantaire gave him reinforced as such. “If I would not trust them to be a witness, what makes you think I would trust them to exchange marriage vows with you? Even if using a false name, I know not the legal ramifications and I would not have someone trying to take you for all your worth.” Enjolras blinked, fleetingly touched by the lengths to which Grantaire seemed determine to go to protect him – or at the very least, to protect his estate. “No, that was not an option. Meaning the only option available to us—”

“—Is you wearing the dress and pretending to be the bride.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “Personally, I think it looks quite fetching on me.”

As if to illustrate his point, he ran a hand down the bodice of the gown, a hand that Enjolras could not help but follow with his eyes as it skimmed the creamy fabric that dipped and clung in all the right places— “That is hardly the point,” he snapped, tearing his eyes away.

“No, the point is that the vicar, drunk though he inevitably is, will start asking questions soon, so it’s best we get this over with as soon as possible,” Grantaire said bluntly, his smile disappearing.

When he later thought about it, Enjolras could come up with no rational explanation for what possessed him to say it, but somehow, he found himself scoffing, “Quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Romance?” he repeated, exasperated. “Is now really—” He broke off without warning, and Enjolras was surprised to see his expression soften as he looked up at Enjolras. “Enjolras,” Grantaire said quietly, the exasperation gone from his voice and replaced by something gentle, something entirely unfamiliar that Enjolras could not quite put a name to. “What there is between us is the stuff of fairytales, of legend. What Helen felt for Paris, or Samson for Delilah, pales in comparison to the depths of my feelings for you, and were I to search every corner of this world I know that there is no one with whom I would rather share the remainder of my days. Will you do me the honor of joining me at the altar and becoming my husband?”

Enjolras couldn’t help himself – he snorted a laugh. “Very well, I suppose I deserved that,” he said briskly. “But I do hope you manage to find some actual sincerity when saying your vows, or even the vicar might realize this is a farce.”

He offered his arm to Grantaire, who took it after settling his veil over his face so that not even Enjolras could read his expression. “I’m beginning to think you wouldn’t know sincerity if it were to bite you in the—”

“Shh,” Enjolras hissed, and for once in his life, Grantaire fell silent as the two of them traversed the short aisle to take their place at the front of the chapel.

“Ah,” the vicar said, smiling at them both. “Welcome, welcome. We are gathered here today, in the sight of God and—” The vicar let out a loud hiccup and Enjolras bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood to keep from laughing. He glanced sideways at Grantaire, but couldn’t tell if the man was as amused as he. “—and the witnesses gathered here,” the vicar continued, “to watch as the Marquess of Enjolras and the, er, the…”

He trailed off, clearly casting about for the proper title for Grantaire’s sister, and even though he could not see Grantaire’s face, Enjolras could clearly tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Mistress,” Enjolras supplied helpfully, as it seemed the most appropriate title.

“Yes, that,” the vicar said, nodding at him, continuing without pause, “and Grantaire join together in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. You may face each other and recite your vows.”

Enjolras obediently turned to face Grantaire, hesitating before reaching forward to lift the veil from Grantaire’s face as was tradition. After all, with the vicar no longer facing him head on, it seemed doubtful he would notice that the features underneath were decidedly male.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow as Enjolras lifted his veil, but luckily, made no comment, simply reaching out with his lace gloved hands to take Enjolras’s in his own.

The detour from traditional vows had been Enjolras’s only insistence when planning the ceremony, and he was doubly glad he had insisted on it now, since he was not certain that he would make it through if he had to make the usual promises of honoring and cherishing to Grantaire, especially with Grantaire looking at him like that. Instead, he had opted for seven simple words borrowed from the rather utilitarian vows made by some medieval French men upon joining their households in common purpose with each other.

“Un pain, un vin, et une bourse,” Enjolras said, the meaning as simple as the words themselves: one bread, one wine, and one purse, the three things he and Grantaire would now share, bonded as they were by this ceremony.

Grantaire tilted his head slightly, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He had told the vicar that his sister would opt for equally simple vows, and had assured Enjolras that Madame Hucheloup would not surprise him. But Madame Hucheloup did not stand across from him now, and Enjolras knew without any doubt that Grantaire was going to say something else entirely, and he half-dreaded what words would possibly come out of Grantaire’s mouth. “Une vie et un amour,” Grantaire pronounced, and Enjolras was surprised that the breath seemed to catch in his throat at the simple words, an answer and a challenge to his own.

One life and one love.

Well, he had been the idiot who had asked for some semblance of romance.

The vicar was saying something else, but Enjolras seemed to have temporarily lost his ability to hear, staring still at Grantaire, at that small smile still on his face, trying to figure out why or how he suddenly had the urge to lean in and kiss that smile off of his face.

Without warning, the vicar cleared his throat loudly and Enjolras jumped before glancing almost guiltily back at him, but if the vicar noticed, he gave no indication of it, simply intoning, “What the Lord has brought together, let no man tear asunder. By the power vested in me by the King and by the Lord our God, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss—” 

The words weren’t even out of his mouth before Enjolras had leaned in to press his lips against Grantaire’s.

It was over almost as quickly as it had happened, Enjolras pulling away before his brain had time to process what had just happened, or what he had just done, and he felt stricken as he scanned Grantaire’s face, looking for some reassurance that he had not made a grave error.

But Grantaire’s face was entirely unreadable as he reached up to again cover his face with his veil before turning back to the vicar, who was smiling at them both in a sort of genial, patronizing way that for some inexplicable reason infuriated Enjolras. Or perhaps it was just that Grantaire had dropped his hands and turned away.

Either way, as the vicar completed his benediction, Grantaire finally turned back to Enjolras, leaning in to tell him in an undertone, “Madame Hucheloup brought some clothes for me. I’m going to change and then we can return home.”

Enjolras nodded dumbly, tempted to ask how they would explain the sudden disappearance of Enjolras’s bride to any onlookers or the vicar himself, but decided it was not worth it. Especially since the vicar took his leave immediately upon the conclusion of the ceremony, mumbling something about being thirsty as he staggered past Enjolras and Grantaire, assumedly heading back to the rectory.

 As Grantaire disappeared somewhere to assumedly change, Enjolras felt slightly aimless, milling about the chapel with nothing really to do besides sign the paperwork, which took about twenty seconds. Without any better option, he approached Madame Hucheloup, whom he reasoned had undoubtedly seen her share of weddings. “I beg your pardon for not asking sooner,” he started, “but is there something I’m meant to be doing for this?”

“Other than standing up at the altar as you just did?” she asked with a smile. “No, m’lord. Ordinarily you’d be greeting guests and such, and overseeing – which is to say, and begging your pardon for wording it such, paying for – the wedding feast, but seeing as how you’ll not be having any festivities…” She trailed off and shrugged. “Other than that, you’d be planning the honeymoon trip, I suppose, but again, I’m not sure what you and Himself have got planned there.”

She gave Enjolras a look that he couldn’t quite interpret and he shrugged as well. “Nor do I, I suppose,” he told her with a tight smile. “Very well. Thank you for your help. You and Le Cabuc can return to the manor if you’d like – Grantaire and I will be along soon enough.”

Enjolras wasn’t entirely sure he had any real authority to give orders to Grantaire’s household staff, but neither Madame Hucheloup nor Le Cabuc complained at the dismissal, simply taking their leave – and leaving Enjolras by himself and feeling, quite possibly, more aimless than before.

While his nerves earlier had been expected, this inexplicable feeling of being unmoored was not. Frankly, as the marriage and the wedding to precede it were both shams, he hadn’t expected to feel anything more than slightly embarrassed at the whole process. But embarrassment was really the furthest thing from his mind as he thought about how he had felt standing in front of the vicar with Grantaire.

It should have felt even more of a farce than just the fake wedding itself, exchanging wedding vows with a man. At the very least, he was fairly certain it was a sacrilege, or making a mockery of the sacrament itself.

And yet, it hadn’t felt that way.

Enjolras had never pondered his nuptials save as a thing to be dreaded, had never pictured himself facing some faceless woman and binding himself to her, so he had no frame of reference for how others might have anticipated feeling, but he wondered if others also discovered upon their wedding day that it just felt...right. Like something he was meant to do.

Were he more inclined toward the philosophical, he might’ve wondered if there was a deeper meaning he should be reading into that, or if this should inspire some deeper questions about fate or predestination, but Enjolras had never been one for such discussions, preferring to focus on the here and now, the tangible ways in which he could affect change. And he did not dwell on them now, instead shaking his head once more to clear it of errant thoughts before going to find Grantaire to see what could possibly be taking him so long to get changed.

He did not find him at all in the chapel and was about to give up and head back to the house alone when he caught sight of a lone figure standing out in the small cemetery next to the chapel. Even without being able to make out any of his features, he could tell it was Grantaire, and he frowned slightly before heading over to join him.

“Grantaire?” he called when he finally drew close, and Grantaire looked up, startled.

“My apologies,” he said, something like guilt flashing across his face. “I completely forgot I had offered to walk back up with you.”

Enjolras’s frown deepened, because something about Grantaire seemed off. Not just that he was back in his usual clothes, though that was certainly a brief disappointment to Enjolras, but something about the set of his shoulders and the tired look on his face. He glanced at the small, unadorned stone Grantaire stood in front of, sudden realization hitting as he read the name: Adélaïde Grantaire.

“My sister,” Grantaire said, unnecessarily. “I just wanted a moment with her. She—” His voice broke and he coughed, once, as if to try to hide it. “She would have been greatly amused by today, I think.”

“The idea of you in a wedding dress?” Enjolras guessed, aiming for levity.

But Grantaire shook his head. “The idea of me getting married at all, really,” he said with a short, dry laugh. “We used to joke about it, her and I, when we were small. She told me that a handsome prince would come along and save her from her suffering, and I would tease that I would marry a handsome prince, too, and we would be princesses together.” He shook his head again, but fondly this time. “Hence why she would get great amusement at my marrying a Marquess in her name.” His smile faded. “Sadly, there was no prince in this or any land who could have saved her, no matter how many stars she wished upon.”

Enjolras bowed his head in understanding. “May I ask how she died?” he asked quietly, hoping Grantaire would not think he was intruding. He had refused to talk about his sister earlier, but Enjolras felt like something had changed between them and he might be willing to say a bit more.

Grantaire just shrugged. “She was very ill for much of our childhood,” he said matter-of-factly. “She and my mother were stricken with fever at her birth – my mother succumbed to it. Adélaïde got better, so to speak, but she was never truly healthy. Then when she was nine…” He trailed off before taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It was quick, at least, in the end. Which was a comfort in its own way.”

Enjolras wished he had some eloquent words of comfort to offer, but he felt tongue-tied instead. So in lieu of words, he reached out and gently rested his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder, squeezing it once before letting it fall back to his side. Then he cleared his throat. “So she wanted to be saved from illness...what did you hope your handsome prince would save you from?”

“My father.” Grantaire flinched, whether from the words or from the memories they stirred. “He...he did not like me much. He was mostly indifferent to Adélaïde, but he seemed to find fault with everything I did.”

“He beat you.”

Enjolras said the words evenly, but his vision seemed to flash red in front of his eyes at the thought. Any parent hitting their child was a heinous thought, but for some reason, the idea of Grantaire as a child making desperate wishes to escape with his ill sister made his blood boil.

“Well, he rarely carried it out himself, but yes,” Grantaire said, his tone turning matter-of-fact again “And after she died, it got worse. Thankfully, when I went off to school, he was stationed abroad, and has never returned.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “God only knows how disappointed he would be if he could see me today, but I think he and I are both content to pretend the other does not exist.”

Enjolras was not so content, knowing that there was a man out there somewhere with such little regard for his own son, and it took him a moment before he could manage a response. “If he ever comes back, I’ll kill him.”

Grantaire looked sharply at him, searching his expression for a moment before his own softened. “A noble offer, but I don’t think we’re in much danger of that happening.” He nudged Enjolras lightly with his elbow. “Thank you, though.”

“It is the least I can do...as your husband.” Grantaire laughed and Enjolras hesitated before adding, “I promise this arrangement involving your sister, and now you, I suppose, will be only temporary. As soon as everything is handled with my mother, I will find us both a way out of this so that you can return to your memories of her in peace.”

Grantaire shook his head. “I rather wish you wouldn’t,” he said, as if confessing a secret. “It’s been surprisingly pleasant, sharing a devious plot with you. And...sharing this part of myself with someone as well.” He gestured towards his sister’s grave before giving Enjolras a hesitant smile. “Besides, I’m certain our friends would hate for us to return to our usual animosity.”

“Our friends can adjust,” Enjolras muttered.

Grantaire laughed again. “Even so,” he said, before adding, with a beatific smile and a fluttering of his eyelashes in what he clearly deemed an alluring way, “Besides, you can’t be rid of me so quickly. After all, we haven’t even had a chance to have our wedding night yet.” Enjolras blanched and Grantaire laughed once more. “Now come, it’s time we returned to the house before Madame Hucheloup sends a search party after us.”

They started off together, silence stretching between them for a few minutes before Enjolras remarked, off-handedly, “Do you know, I believe that was the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

Grantaire frowned. “When?”

“When you were doing your little mocking proposal.” Enjolras gave him a look. “Normally you call me ‘my lord’ or ‘Apollo’ or some other asinine nickname.”

“I’m sure I have called you by your name before,” Grantaire scoffed, but he didn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes when he said it.

Enjolras wanted to counter that, and drag the matter into their usual bickering as a way to pass the time, but something caused him to hold his tongue. And as they made their way back up to the manor, he could not help but notice that the time passed just as easily in companionable silence, and that their hands kept brushing against each other as they walked.

[dykeseinfeld]

u asked someone to remind you to post about your pjo dual protagonist thalia/bianca au and i am SO intrigued by this idea please say more

anon asked: hey queen hope your homework went good yesterday 🌸…now what were you saying about thalia and bianca 😳 ?

ok y’all i’m here...the moment almost none of y’all have been waiting for....bianca/thalia protagonists with alternating pov’s au

warning it’s kind of super long and may or may not read like a 2nd grader’s semi-coherent game of pretend so under the cut it goes!

so the main things you need to know about this au are 1. thalia survives and 2. annabeth’s + luke’s ages are a lil diff bc canon is my sandbox 3. i can’t decide if percy exists in this au or not (maybe y’all can help me decide?)

so the first book:

would start a few months after grover brought thalia (12), luke (13), and annabeth (10, not 7)  to camp half blood. they were chased by monsters sent by hades on the way, and thalia almost didn’t survive, but ultimately she got lucky and managed to send a bolt of lightning through her spear for the first time and they made it into camp

it’s been some time so annabeth is happy as a clam in the athena cabin doing her 10-year-old-with-severe-mommy-issues thing and luke is actually pretty popular with the hermes cabin bc he actually Met Their Dad Holy Shit and also he’s getting pretty good with a sword

at the same time, thalia is alone in the zeus cabin. everyone has been freaking out bc they all saw the huge bolt of lightning that incinerated a couple hellhounds as they made their grand entrance and What The Fuck Child Of The Big Three???

she’s also further isolated because chiron will take her for private training sessions sometimes, since she is clearly really powerful already and also Hades Himself was trying to kill her (chiron told her the reason was the big three’s pledge not to have kids, and maybe about the great prophecy? if he tells her that then she’s sworn to secrecy)

once grover leaves on another protector assignment, thalia mostly hangs out with luke, and annabeth. luke + annabeth both will try to eat meals with her at the zeus table but annabeth doesn’t want to get in trouble and luke is genuinely making friends in the hermes cabin so thalia will feel bad sometimes and send him back

kronos, seeing this bitter isolated child of the big three’s dreams: it’s free real estate

MEANWHILE

hades is Pissed that thalia survived and zeus got to break their oath And get the glory of a prophecy child

so he sends someone to take bianca (12) and nico (10) out of the lotus hotel and casino a little early.

grover is still their protector, but since the Stirring hasn’t begun in earnest yet and hades is lowkey determined to keep them safe, they make it back to camp half blood with no escort/incident

bianca + nico are put into the hermes cabin, and luke kinda takes them under his wing bc while he’s not bitter he still needs therapy bc this 14 year old has never met a pre-teen he couldn’t try to parent

luke introduces nico and annabeth since they’re the same age and they become really good friends!! she Loves mythomagic and he thinks her dagger is super cool and they’re both just really excited about camp <3

bianca is more reserved and resistant to the whole thing, and she wanders around alone exploring and runs into thalia in the zeus cabin

at this first meeting they get into a bit of a fight bc bianca is still in shock/denial about the gods being real, but thalia at this point has zero patience for this

anyway after that and maybe another scuffle during capture the flag or something they hit it off and become best friends in the way girls can, especially bonding over how they’ve both had to take on raising annabeth and nico basically on their own at the age of 12

~QUEST TIME~

thalia is given a quest for [unspecific reason] and chooses bianca and luke, they go off leaving annabeth and nico frustrated at home

quest hijinks etc, bianca is trying to figure out her parentage + her weird mysterious powers? and thalia is arguing with luke because he’s settling into camp/hero life really well actually but she’s getting progressively angrier with the gods for trying to kill her and also keeps getting dreams from kronos and doesn’t get why he doesn’t seem to remember all of the shit that the gods have put him through

bianca + thalia have las-vegas-style-heart-to-hearts where thalia shares her tragic backstory about her mother and her brother and how hades tried to kill her and even about the great prophecy and how she’s trying on this quest bc of that and her dad but at the same time these dreams are making her suspicious that he might’ve been responsible for her mom’s death.

bianca then shares her own stuff, about how terrified she was being on her own with nico having to protect him but also not remembering most of her childhood and not remembering her parents or how she ended up in the care of this lawyer and just the absolute mindfuckery that her memories/past are

luke is asleep in those scenes i guess lol 🧍‍♂️

anyway eventually they finish their quest in this massive climactic battle where bianca discovers her powers in a huge-showy-”i’m the ghost prince”-way and is formally claimed by hades which thalia sees as this Massive Betrayal obviously and bianca is horrified too because she knows what hades did to thalia but at the same time she’s just so happy to finally understand at least part of her past

thalia just reaches a breaking point though because everyone around her just doesn’t understand her anger and just when she thought she had found another sympathetic person who understood what she was going through she joins hades??? no. no fucking way. kronos reveals that he’s the one who has been sending her dreams, prob by sending some messenger who he possesses or smthing and when he offers thalia the chance to join him? she does (dun dun dun)

main beats of the rest of the series:

thalia and bianca on opposite sides of the war training to be the prophecy child, they come together a Lot and have like melodramatic fight scenes where they talk out their anger and try to get the other to join them bc they don’t want to kill each other

luke is extremely conflicted/betrayed and there’s a titan’s curse moment prob towards the end of the third book where they’re fighting and thalia is trying to get her to go with him but here he actually does go to join her (gasp!!) and is evil for at least one book but his heart’s not in it and he goes back to the good side eventually

by the point of luke’s betrayal, annabeth and nico are growing and developing and old enough to go on quests w bianca and by the last book they’re a main trio of sorts and their hypothetical character development is already making me emotional

there’s just a lot of general sexiness with foils and inner conflicts and bianca doesn’t even want to be the prophecy child but she needs to for the fate of the world and bianca is so angry at thalia bc thalia is a daughter of zeus and could control her powers and is perfect and just meant to be the prophecy kid, not some daughter of hades who they didn’t even have a cabin for before

hm maybe by either the last or second-to-last book thalia + bianca are close to reconciling or at least their interests are aligned for the moment and they read the text of the prophecy together and things go Wild bc they both think “single choice shall end his days” either is about luke or nico and it turns up the gas to their fighting both of them care about both of them and yeah

and then i can’t decide if there’s romantic arcs at all but if there were it would go like this:

just a dash of thaluke where at first it was luke having a one-sided crush but thalia misses him a Lot after she goes to kronos and wonders if it’s that she misses him or if it’s something More until to get him to defect there’s like a melodramatic moment in the fight where thalia kisses him and they go off to be Evil Together but it ends bc luke doesn’t believe in the cause and only joined her in hopes of getting thalia back to his side

once luke leaves/is kicked out thalia realizes that she didn’t love luke she just wanted a family and also in the second half of the series she realizes she’s a lesbian as a parallel to her redemption arc

bianca meanwhile is unconcerned w romance until she has her botl-hoe-moment where within one book she 1. runs into the hunters on a quest and has a thing with zoe nightshade who tries to get her to join plus tells her about that time she met thalia, 2. she goes to calypso’s island and falls in love w her in the moonlight or w/e and has her what-if moment, and 3. when they meet up that book thalia somehow knew abt zoe + calypso and seems almost angrier abt them  than the war?? weird bc bianca knows that thalia is Totally Straight right??

my main point is that bianca/thalia is our friends-to-enemies-to-lovers endgame thank you i will take my pulitzer now