#soon she can sit so safely on my shelf and I can protect at least the one little copy I HEART PATRICK

[cloneboywonder]

I HEART BIG GIRL JOB MONEY <33333 BABYGIRL COME HOME AND ALSOOOOO I FINALLY WENT TO MY BIG CAVE !!!!! It was very scary I was crying in this image :-( my brothers friends had to like practically hand hold or straight up grab and carry me 😭 dear god I wish I could be the big caver I want so desperately to be 😭😭😭

[witchthewriter]

Ok ok ok omg how about the knights (well, maybe at least Gwaine, Lancelot, and Leon 😂) with a pregnant s/o AND/OR them as dads !!! 😍 also. Can I just say? I’m quaking to discover you write smut for this show.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  

𝑆𝑖𝑟 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙🌿

⭑ The Careful Dad™

⭑ Baby proofs the house as soon as he knows you’re pregnant. 

   “My love where is my sewing kit?”

“On the top shelf,” Percival replied, his back toward you as he rubbed his chin in thought. 

     “But I can’t reach it?” 

“Good. Then the baby will definitely not be able to.”

⭑ Holds the baby like he’ll break it like a porcelain vase. 

⭑ 100x more gentle than usual whenever the baby is around. When you were pregnant he barely touched you because he was so scared he would hurt you and the baby. 

⭑ Always sensitive to the baby’s cries and is the first one out of bed to check. 

⭑ Cried the first time he held his daughter. Percival thought she was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. 

⭑ After a while he calms down, knowing that accidents happen and you can only do what you can. 

𝑆𝑖𝑟 𝐸𝑙𝑦𝑎𝑛🌳

⭑ The Protective Dad™

⭑ Doesn’t want just anyone to be around the baby. He needs to know who they are and how they’re family/friends. 

 “Elyan, that was my childhood friend!” You scolded, holding the babe to your chest. 

   “And how would I know that? He could have been a kidnapper for all I know!” 

⭑ Oh god he’s stressed. Elyan is constantly making sure that your baby is healthy. He definitely goes to Gaius and tells him of all the rashes, fevers, etc., Gaius nearly always tells him that it’s normal, but Elyan keeps a watchful eye.

⭑ He’s very hands-on. Changing nappies, taking the babe to family members - he wants to make sure you and the baby are safe. 

⭑ Guinevere helps with the child a lot. Baby-sitting, or simply being around you a lot. Having another person just... there ... eases the stress. 

⭑ You’re usually the one to calm Elyan down

     “He’s fine. It’s alright. Gwaine didn’t drop him-”

“He could have. I’m never letting him hold my son again.”

𝑆𝑖𝑟 𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑛🥀

⭑The Proud Dad™

⭑ “Did you see that? Did you see what she just did?!” Leon bellowed, the biggest smile on his face. 

   “Yes honey, she’s been doing that for months now.”

“I know. But it’s just so - so impressive!” 

⭑ Talks everyone’s ear off about how amazing his kid is. If phones existed back then, he’d have hundreds of videos and photos of your child doing normal things. And harass anyone; 

  “Look at my daughter, isn’t she talented?”

“She’s picking her nose...”  

      “And doing a great job at it!!!” 

⭑ It brings a smile to your face - you thought giving Leon a girl would bring shame. But he hates that mindset. He doesn’t care what the sex of the baby is - as long as it can breathe, he’s happy. 

⭑ I feel like he’s the dad of the knights as well, so he would adopt random kids throughout Camelot. Like invite them for dinner, or make sure they’re safe. 

⭑ Your house would never be quiet. And although it may be stressful at times, you know that Leon does it because he has such a good heart. 

𝑆𝑖𝑟 𝐺𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒🌷

⭑The Fun Dad™

⭑ “Sweetheart, I’m just taking Finn to the pub,” Gwaine called from the front door. 

    “The pub? THE PUB?” Your voice grew louder with realization. 

“He’s not going to have a drink-”

      “I GAVE BIRTH TWO WEEKS AGO GWAINE.”

⭑ You just know every kid is going to be jealous of yours. Gwaine would always be the life of the kid’s party. And would definitely play with all the children. Imagine them climbing all over your husband, him pretend screaming and absolute shrieks of laughter from the little ones. 

⭑ Would want to have a whole army of children. He gets along better with kids than most adults. 

⭑ Gwaine would most definitely embarrass your child. But not on purpose though. He’s just a friendly, loud man that is practically shameless. 

⭑ Hasn’t got a single clue how to be a father but does the best he can. One thing he does know is that the most important thing is to be present in his child’s life. 

⭑ You know that Gwaine secretly worries about you and his children all the time. 

𝑆𝑖𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑡🍂

⭑ The Doting Dad™

⭑ “I love you so much,” Lancelot cooed to the little bundle in his arms. The baby babbled incoherently in response. 

     “Oh, you love me too. Well, I love you more-” 

⭑ Never leaves without planting a firm kiss on the baby’s head. 

⭑ Has written many letters just in case he doesn’t return from a quest or a battle. He wants his baby to know him, but most of all, who he wants his child to grow into. 

⭑Lancelot wants his child to know that they are loved, no matter what they do, where they go, or who they’re with. His love will never fade away. 

⭑ He’s never judgemental and will always hear the new opinions your child has. Lancelot has an open mind and wants your child to have as many opportunities for education, to learn, and to grow as a person. 

⭑ Lancelot is eternally grateful to the fates for giving him such a beautiful family. He thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world. 

[bokunosimpfiction]

Demon!Dimitrescux Reader

Synopsis: Lady Dimitrescu reveals herself as a demon that has made it her personal mission to guard you after what you believe is the case of worst/best timing of your entire life. No trigger warnings. 1.6k words.

A/N: This took me less than two hours to write/publish this. I needed this out of my system ASAP

             The black Toyota Corolla had to look strangely familiar your first pass down the street. It reminded you of your boyfriend’s car, and you swore that the digits of the license plate must have been one or two off his, and the generic pine tree air freshener must have been a different color. Not to mention the woman in the backseat with a cocktail dress on.

             You chose not to think about it as you walked into the 7-11 in nothing but your pajamas and the pair of crocs you haven’t worn since being on the college swim team. It wasn’t hard to decide what to grab off the shelves. A bag of chips store brand sour patch kids and gummy worms, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a bottle of wine too big for one person. The cashier looked just as tired as you did, and you understood what it was like, barely, time is a social construct that distanced you deeply from the night shifts you pulled at this same store while in college. Nine to five shifts (Dolly Parton shifts, your coworker would call them with a smile) were only better because you could sit down and have a stable sleep schedule. It was the same grueling work, and in your case, you had to deal with the same shitty people that complained about things you can’t control.

             His droning voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. “The total is forty-eight fifty-seven.” He was either crying in the backroom while you were picking out your chips or hit a massive dab, you weren’t sure, but his red eyes made either option feasible. You didn’t comment on it, only handing him two twenties and a ten and taking the change back before walking out the door. You didn’t say anything to him, and vice versa, which you appreciated because you didn’t have the energy to deal with a chatty Kathy right now. And as you pull yourself down the street, your bag of crap from 7-11 in your hand, you pass that same deja-vu-mobile and look at the stickers on the back.

             The same I love my dog and proud cat-dad stickers in the exact same place, the dent on the right side of the bumper, and the license plate that was in fact, one hundred percent his. Which begs the question, who was the girl in the cocktail dress, and what was she doing in the backseat? The question didn’t matter for long because the car promptly burst into flames. Oh well. Wait.

The.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

             It’s your boyfriend’s car.

Your

Boyfriends.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

             You wipe out your phone to call the fire department when you see the girl in the same cocktail dress crawl out of the car, dress pulled up to her waist, barefoot and mascara streaming down her face. She’s violently beating his clutch against the ground, desperate to put out the flames while your boyfriend slams the door open on the other side and throws himself out full force onto the asphalt of the busy street. He looks up and sees the anger in your eyes.

             “Hey, babe.”

             “I-I-can-” he stutters violently. His face was red in anger and blood dripping from his nose due to the face-first collision with the freshly paved street.

             “We’re over.”

             You do him the favor of calling the fire department for his car and walk off as soon as you hear the sirens of the firetruck. You didn’t have anything to do with it. No need to watch the fallout when you had nothing to do with the disaster. Besides, your soda’s getting cold, you wanted to drink that before it got Luke-warm. You ended up dropping off the crap and walking to the 24-7 grocery store a little farther in the other direction to get ice cream. Standing in the frozen aisle, in nothing but your pajamas, bright red crocs, and moist eyes, you try and decide between the weird, nuanced flavors that all taste like vanilla anyhow.

             You look up towards the top shelf when you notice the woman leaning over you. She’s deathly pale, skin as pale as paper and lipstick so red it glowed compared to everything else. Her huge hat would make a shadow on her face if it weren’t propped right above her hairline.

             “So, did you enjoy the show sweet-heart,” she whispers in your ear. You feel her breath on your neck and her gaze freezes your heart. “You didn’t think that his car catching on fire was a happy accident now did you?”

             You turn around, only not to see her behind you, but on the fogged-up glass doors on the other side of the aisle. “Did you really think that I’d be standing right behind you?” Her question is almost taunting.

             “Who are you?”

             She breathes into her elegant pipe only to blow out to re-fog the glass before staring dead into your eyes and saying the words that changed your life forever. “I’m your guardian demon.”

             You honestly thought you were losing your mind, seeing this woman in the glass, telling you she was a demon who set your ex’s car on fire. (It felt odd to call him that, you had been dating him for three years). Her elegant leg steps through the glass, her dress riding up to just below her knee before it hit the ground and the rest of her flowed into our realm as smoothly as her dress swayed when she walked over to you.

             She was almost twice your height, and the view from where she stood in front of you made her feel even more so tall. “So mortal, what do you have to say, knowing that you have a five-hundred-year-old all-powerful demon protecting you?”

             “What happened to my guardian angel?”

             She scoffs. “You never had one. Most people nowadays have guardian angels, in fact, I’ve only heard of one other mortal who hasn’t had one that’s alive right now.”

             “What do you mean?” You can’t help but ask. There’s an entire world of things you didn’t understand. Angels. Demons. Hell, even bigfoot could be real for all you know.

             “Well, darling, there is a very simple answer to that question: there are only so many angels for so many mortals, and so sometimes a few slip through the cracks of the system, and that’s where we step in.” She moves around to the refrigerator next to you and inspects the sorbets. “Despite what the church tells you, us demons love humans. They’re a claim to social status. You bring a human home, and you’re viewed as wealthy, famous even.”

             “So that’s what you get out of taking a person’s soul in a deal.”

             She turns to you. “When I what now?”

             “Ya’ know,” you say, “a person makes a deal with a demon in exchange for money or fame, and when they die their soul belongs to the demon and they’re doomed to eternal hell yada-yada-yada.”

             “Is that what they’re teaching you, now.”

             “At least that’s what my mother says. I didn’t really believe in any of this stuff till you stepped out of the door and said you set my ex’s car on fire.”

             “I would have done it sooner, but you looked so happy with him, it was difficult to pull that away from you,” she sighs before standing up to her full height, “that woman he was with was going to give you HPV and I’d prefer the human I fought tooth and nail over to not get an STD. I would never have let that stupid-man-thing touch you had I known he would cheat on you with a mortal so… infected.” What an interesting word to decide to land on.

             She turns and waltzes back across the aisle with a grace that has long been lost to time. “And besides, you’re better off without him, with him off your mind you’ll be able to take that new project on at work and get that raise you’ve been needing so badly.”

             You’re still trying to process this. “You mentioned that you only heard of one other mortal with a demon guardian. Who is he?”

             “His name doesn’t matter, all I really care about is that damn man-child, Heisenberg, is watching him, which means he won’t be alive much longer.”

             “Do you kill us?”

             She puts her hand to her chest and looks genuinely offended before her features soften when she realizes you had never met a demon in your entire life not to mention even believing in them. “We would never. Our humans are like our children, and while we may not be able to subtle pull strings to protect those that we watch over, we do have our more… direct ways of protecting them.”

             “Like setting his car on fire.”

             “I’ve done worse things to keep you safe.”

             Your face pales, but your curiosity brightens your eyes. “Like what?”

             “Your so demand, child, but remember when lightning struck the tree in your backyard, and it fell and landed on your neighbor fifteen or so years ago?”

             You can’t formulate words.

             “Or how your car broke down on the side of the road so you couldn’t reach the hotel you booked?”

             “You did that!”

             “They were going to steal your luggage!” She scoffs before taking a long drag from her pipe. “Anymore, questions?”

             “Is Jesus real?”

             “I wasn’t there for that, and if he was, he hasn’t left his fluffy little sky bed since being nailed to that goddamn cross.”

             “One more.”

             “It better not be stupid, darling.”

             “What ice cream should I get?”

             Her soft smile returns. “Get the java-chip, but the one right behind the front one, there’s a little extra than usual in that container.”

[drabbles-mc]

“I Like This”

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager)

Request by @adela-topaz-caelon: Was re-reading the Kozik fic with the hickey, and I was reading the part where it said "fell into place", so I was wondering if we could get a prequel to that (The original fic can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Relationship build-ups are my jam! Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @garbinge @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @everyhowlmarksthedead @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @mayans-mc @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

She let out a deep sigh as she cleaned up a few stray bottles that were scattered across the bar and tables. Part of her wanted to leave it to be someone else’s problem, but the other part of her knew that even if she went home, she’d probably be awake and cleaning there too. She tossed the bottles into the garbage bin before beginning to wipe everything down.

The clubhouse had never been so quiet—the music was off, the guys had all either gone home or back to their dorms, and she was the only one left and it made the clubhouse seem five times larger than usual.

The silence was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps. Turning around, she saw Kozik coming into the bar area. He looked exhausted and like his hangover was already starting. She chuckled quietly as he walked behind the bar and looked for something in particular.

“I don’t think it counts as hair of the dog until morning,” she said with a quiet laugh.

He shook his head, chuckling, “Believe it or not, I’m just looking for a bottle of water.”

She laughed, motioning under the bar, “Left cabinet, bottom shelf.”

“We don’t have any that are refrigerated?”

“You think anyone comes here to drink water?” she shot back with a laugh.

He smiled as he twisted the top off, “That’s fair,” he took a long drink and looked back over to her, finally realizing what she was doing. He shook his head slightly, “You don’t gotta be doing all of that, T. Let the prospects handle it in the morning.”

She shook her head, “I’m almost done here anyway. Let them take credit for it, though,” she smiled.

“The guys would never let them.”

She chuckled, “True,” she tossed the rag onto the surface of the bar, “Alright. Well, I’m outta here,” she went and grabbed her purse, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yea I’m, I’m not going anywhere.”

She flashed him a smile, “Nice to know you’re back for good.”

She started making her way towards the door before he could try to come up with any kind of response at all, let alone one that would make him sound smooth. He let out a quiet sigh as he watched her walk out the door of the clubhouse. She was the last woman in the world that he should spend his time thinking about or talking to, but something inside him said that that fact wasn’t going to matter anymore, especially if he was sticking around.

Over the next couple of days, the two of them would exchange quick hellos and goodbyes when they crossed paths. Before he’d seen her after hours at the clubhouse, Kozik never actually realized just how often Tig’s daughter was at the clubhouse and T-M. She pitched in and helped Gemma when necessary, and growing up as Tig’s daughter meant that she knew her way around bikes and cars well enough to be helpful at the shop.

Kozik saw her getting her things together at the end of the day and made his way over to her. She heard his footsteps and turned around, smiling when she saw him. He tucked his hands into his pockets, “You gonna be around later?” he nodded towards the clubhouse.

She laughed, shaking her head, “No, not this time. Got other plans. You boys will have to clean up your own beer bottles tonight.”

He chuckled, “You know it’ll never get done.”

She smiled, “I know. Have a good—”

“He bothering you, Tawnie?” Tig walked up, positioning himself between the two of them.

She huffed, rolling her eyes as she shook her head, “I’m fine, Dad. “

He looked from her over to Kozik, eyes narrowing, “Don’t you have other shit you should be doing? Like not talking to or making eye contact with my daughter?”

“Dad—”

Kozik spoke up before the situation got any worse, “My bad,” he held his hands up in surrender before turning and walking away.

When he was out of earshot, Tawnie gave her father a good shove, “Why do you need to be such a dick?”

“All these guys know you’re off-limits. But him especially,” Tig saw the way that she rolled her eyes and he pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, “You know I love you, T.”

“I love you too,” she grumbled before stepping back, “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright. Drive safe, baby,” he watched her walk towards her car for a moment before turning back around. He saw the way that Kozik was also watching her and shook his head. He was about to walk up to him when he heard Clay calling for him from the clubhouse. With a sigh, Tig turned around and made his way over, granting Kozik another day without getting chewed out by him.

The last thing that Kozik wanted was more issues with Tig. The man had had it out for him for years and getting involved with his daughter wasn’t going to make that situation get any better. He told himself that he was going to try and stay away from Tawnie when he could—not go out of his way to talk to her and just hope that she would return the favor.

At the end of the work day, she was trying to pull the garage door down for one of the work bays—the wiring in it went weeks beforehand and no one had gotten around to fixing it yet so it only lowered it about a quarter of the way, leaving it mere inches out of her reach.

With a heavy sigh, she called over to the other side of the shop, “Hey, Kozik?”

He turned around as he finished wiping off his hands, “Yea?”

“Can you…?” she pointed up at the door, “I can’t reach it,” she had to laugh.

He chuckled as he made his way over, “Yea, of course.”

She watched him as he reached up and pulled the door down the rest of the way with ease, “I swear I’m just gonna start wearing heels to work so I can reach shit.”

He smiled, trying to stifle his laughter a little, “I’m not sure if that’s the most practical solution to your problem. But,” he let himself meet her gaze, “I’m not going to try and tell you not to.”

She laughed, “Probably better that way. I’m not the kind of person people usually win arguments against.”

“Must be a Trager thing,” he chuckled.

“Well,” she laughed as she let her hair down out of its ponytail, “I’m at least a much more graceful winner than my father.”

“I think that’s a low bar to set, T.”

She chuckled as the two of them made their way towards the door of the garage, “Maybe.”

Kozik stood by while he watched her lock the door to the garage, trying not to be obvious about the fact that he was staring at her, “Are you…are you coming by for the party tonight?”

She shrugged, flashing him a smile, “I was thinking about it, why?”

“Just wondering,” he didn’t want to sound like he was being nosey or pushy.

She started walking towards her car, motioning for him to follow her, “Club events are always, uh, hit or miss, for me,” she laughed, “I wanna have fun but it’s difficult when Tig doesn’t want anyone to, you know, look at me,” she looked over at Kozik and heard the nervous chuckle slip past his lips, “I’m sorry about all that shit before, by the way.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.”

“Well in that case,” she smiled as she dug her keys out of her purse, “I’m even more sorry,” she laughed.

“I’ll see you later?” he gave it one last shot as she climbed into her car.

She smiled at him, “Maybe. Try to stay outta trouble, alright?”

He gave her a smile and a nod before she turned the key in the ignition and took off out of the compound. Letting out a deep breath, he walked towards the clubhouse to get ready for church before the party that night.

“Hey,” she called out over the noise of the party that was well underway, “Kozik!”

He turned his head in the direction of his name, eyebrows raising in surprise when he saw who was calling for him. He quickly made his way over to her, watching as she carried a case of beer inside. He offered to take it from her but she shook her head at him.

“Got three more outside. Help me grab those? Put those muscles to some good use?”

He laughed as he walked back the way she came in, “Yes ma’am.”

She walked by him as he carried two cases and she chuckled, “Show-off.”

“I left the last one for you,” he smiled.

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

That was the last exchange they had for the rest of the party. Kozik got swept up in the antics with his MC brothers, and Tawnie was content to sit back and keep an eye on everything. She was always ready to jump in and run interference between anyone—she and her father had that in common. She was better at keeping her temper in check but she was just as protective as he was. She never let anything shady slip by her if she could help it.

Luckily, it was a relatively uneventful night. Aside from a few of the Cara Cara girls drinking too much and needing to be driven home, everyone was on their best behavior, whatever that meant for them. Soon enough they were all riding off on their bikes or safely passed out in their dorms. This time, though, Kozik didn’t even bother disappearing back to his room at the end of the night, he just hung back and waited for everyone else to clear out.

“So,” Tawnie was making her rounds and collecting beer bottles again, “is 2AM the optimal time to try and talk to you?”

“Without me running the risk of getting murdered by your dad, yea,” he laughed as he sat down at the bar.

“Ah,” she threw the bottles away and grabbed fresh ones for each of them, popping the tops off before hopping up and sitting on the bar, “So it’s strategic.”

“Something like that,” he took a swig of his beer, “Or maybe I just want all of your attention.”

She chuckled, “Well, you certainly have it now,” she gently nudged his knee with her foot, “So what can I do for you, hm?”

“Keeping me company at 2AM is more than enough.”

“Mm,” she hummed with a laugh, “Talk about low bars.”

That became their new routine. In the small, quiet hours of the morning after everyone else was gone or passed out, the two of them had their time. Sometimes it was only a few minutes, other times it was a few hours. There came a point where both of them recognized that it was much more than just keeping each other company, but neither of them wanted to say anything and run the risk of ruining it.

The two of them were sitting at the picnic table outside the clubhouse. Everything was quiet, everyone had long since disappeared and gone to bed. Kozik sat next to her on the same side of the bench, the outside of his leg pressing lightly up against hers as she toyed with the beer bottle in her hands.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked over at him.

He tilted his head in confusion, “For what?”

“For always staying. I know that you’d probably rather be sleeping right now, like most people would at 3AM,” she laughed, “But I like…this.”

“This?” a smile passed over his features.

She laughed, “Yea. This.”

He leaned forward onto the table, his forearm resting right next to hers, “I like this too.”

There were a few seconds of silence before she turned to face him again, waiting for him to do the same. He felt her eyes on him and when he looked over and saw the way her lips were slowly curling up into a smile, it was hard to take his eyes off of her. He nervously drummed his fingers on the side of his beer bottle as he tried to figure out what he was going to say or do next, but it was hard to think underneath the weight of her gaze.

She reached over and put her hand on top of his, gently taking it off the bottle and resting it on top of the table so she could lock her fingers with his. He watched her every move, heart pounding quickly inside his chest.

She tugged him closer to her and he gave in with ho hesitation, leaning in as her hands rested on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Despite the shock coursing through his system he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pulled tight as her fingers found their way up into his hair.

Weeks of late nights and whispered conversations all came together as he focused on the way that her lips moved against his. She let out a quiet moan as his fingers gripped onto her sides a little tighter, and for a moment he thought he was going to melt completely into her.

When she pulled away, trying to catch her breath as she felt her cheeks heating up, she couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh. Her let her hands lightly slide down his shoulders and arms until they interlocked with his.

“I think,” she looked at him, a playful light in her eyes, “we should definitely keep doing this.”

He couldn’t help but to laugh, pulling her in for a quick kiss, “Definitely.”

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Route Unlocked: Phil

Chapter Four: First Lesson

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

Click here for story description

Warnings: cursing, fainting

4.4k words

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Y/n stepped down the stairs on the porch, they decided on going to go find Phil because they were eager to ask him all about magic. As they walked down the last step, Wilbur hopped up with the guitar in hand and a big smile when he saw them.

“Hey! Uh Y/n, good morning, I was going to ask if you could help teach me guitar?” He held the instrument up in his hands, gently like he was afraid to break it. “You seem like you’d be a good teacher.”

“Oh, yeah, I can teach you sometime. I’m going to go find where Phil went off to, but there are music books on the shelf if you want to get started!” They smiled at him, his face falling a little and shoulders lowering before a small smile returned and he stood, looking a little too tense.

“Of course! Of course… have fun Y/n.”

They waved to him as they walked away, feeling a little guilty to leave him like that, but brushed it off as they approached the tree line and heard soft humming from within the trees.

“Why in the world does he have to be all the way in the woods- hey, Phil?” They stopped before the grass was taller and waited to see if they would get a response, but they got nothing. Right as they stepped forward to walk into the taller brush, a flicker of blue light illuminated from farther in the trees. “Using magic instead of words… of course.” They couldn’t help but smile and scoffed but continued forward into the forest.

A few paces in and they spotted him sitting in a clearing they were sure wasn’t there before, just watching a floating blue light right above the palm of his hand. There was a thin line of blue light that shone dimly around the area of the clearing. He almost seemed to be actively ignoring their presence until they took a step into the circle and he turned to them just before they tripped on seemingly nothing. Losing all sense of balance in an instant, they fell forward flat on the ground. They slowly opened their eyes up, groaning softly, but quickly realizing they weren’t in the forest anymore. The circle he had been sitting in had turned into a pasture on a small hill that overlooked an overgrown piece of land and instead of being morning, it was night now. Crickets sang softly and lightning bugs glittered the area and even the air smelt of dew and coldness of the night.

“What the hell…” They got to their feet slowly, looking around in awe while Phil watched in silence. They walked forward but stopped at the softly glowing, blue circle that seemed to be the same area of the clearing they saw before stepping in. “What is this… Phil?” Turning to him, they watched his hand enclose around the blue light he was holding, and it burst into little blue embers before disappearing before he stood up to join them at the edge of the circle.

“Peaceful isn’t it?” He spoke softly so as not to disturb the quietness around them both. “It’s magic in case you couldn’t tell, I’m surprised you couldn’t feel it before you stepped in.” He said with a little laugh, quietly surveying the area with a smile.

“What do you mean?

“Hm?”

They gestured aimlessly with their hands.”What you just said- the.. ‘couldn’t feel it’ bit. What does that mean?”

“Oh! Right, my bad mate” He laughed at himself, taking a moment to sit down again though beside them this time before he explained. “Let’s see, how can I explain this in a way that would make sense… so magic has a feeling when your soul is in tune to it, you’ll have a sixth sense in a way once you work on being able to feel it. When you get close to a magical area or even a person that uses magic, your soul will react.” Y/n looked at him like he was crazy when he said that but his smile just grew wider. “It feels warm like you’re standing near a fire on a cool summer night. I’m sure you’ll get a hang of the feeling quickly though so don’t worry. You know what! Let’s start on that now.”

He turned himself to face them and crossed his legs, patting the area in front of himself as he looked up at them to urge them to sit. They took another look out at the millions of fireflies that simply mesmerized them before sitting in front of him with their legs crossed as well. He reached over and took both of their hands in his and held them gently. Y/n just watched, confused but incredibly interested. They didn’t say a word and just watched him. 

Phil closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out. Slowly, his hands began to emit a gentle yellow that glowed the brightest in his veins nearest to his hands. The color started to crawl onto their hands around where he held onto them like it was a tiny fire spreading from his hands onto theirs. As his light grew slightly brighter, they felt a comforting warmth begin to bloom in their chest. Just like Phil described, it was like a fire was surrounding their chest but it didn’t burn it just protected and warmed.

“Do you feel it yet?” He opened one eye at them while they stared back, eyes wide and gleaming from the dim magic.

“You feel this all the time?”

“Not all the time, just sometimes. Like when we first met you, you were very warm, I could sense the magic from your home before you even opened the door. I swore you’d be able to feel my magic too, but I guess it makes more sense now that you couldn’t.” He slowly let their hands go, the glow falling away from their hands as well as his shortly after. “Is the warmth gone yet?”

They put a hand on their chest, watching it while they focused on their chest for the feeling, but it was long gone. It saddened them a little, but they looked back up to Phil and nodded. “Yeah, it went away as soon as you let go. How did you do that? What did you do?” 

“I condensed a lot of magic into my hands and boosted your aura with it. That’s the little thing surrounding your soul that lets you sense that magic, we’ll have to train yours if you want to sense magic on your own. Though…” He trailed off, holding their gaze a moment before he looked over at the star-littered sky. “That may take a while. As much as I want to encourage you to have time to spend with my sons and bond with them, this is an important part of learning. I’d have to ask you to spend most of your days with me until we’ve mastered this.”

“That’s fine!” They replied immediately, startling him as they leaned forward in excitement. “I want to learn! I’ll gladly give you all my time, I want to learn as much as I can. Like… like how to do this.” They said, gesturing to the projected area around them. “And… I don’t know, how to turn people into pigs or something.”

Phil burst out laughing which carried over to Y/n, making them giggle along with him. “Who are you? Circe?” He joked but they just ended up looking at him with confusion. “She’s a goddess who is well known for turning men to swine. Though… in all honesty, you do kind of remind me of her now that I’ve connected the dots. At least from what I have read of her.”

He left the topic on that note, not giving any indication of explaining his thoughts either. He taught them, quietly, in ways to feel natural magic. He explained to them the ways this earth held its own magic and if you were in tune with your soul, you could feel it in strong magical areas. There was even a promise to show them what he meant once they could feel his magic without aid.

Time passed while they sat together within the realm he made. It could have been hours and Y/n could have never been able to tell as the moment they were living in under the moonlight never seemed to end. The peace was everlasting and they couldn’t complain, this was the first time they have felt so at peace and safe with another person in years. Phil was patient with them in their confusion with this magic he was clearly well versed in, he calmly eased their mind when they grew frustrated and offered a new way to try and learn their soul. 

When they finally began to feel dim warmth in their chest again, he seemed much more excited over it than they were even when he was just teaching them. He questioned them on how it felt and if they could enhance the feeling along with other questions that made no sense to them as he used words that held no meaning in their mind.

“You made a lot of progress today, I’m proud of you. I think you need a well-deserved break though, we’ve been at this for quite a while.” He said to them while getting up slowly to stretch his legs and even his wings as he unfurled them, stretching them out for a moment before pulling them in to offer Y/n his hand to help them up.

They took his hand, standing up slowly as their legs ache from sitting in the same position for so long. “It feels like we’ve been here for hours.” They complained, looking up at him. “ How long… have we been in here?”

“I’d say it’s been all day.”

“Wha- hold on, all day!? Oh no, I told Wilbur I’d teach him guitar!" Y/n ripped their hand away from Phil’s when they ran to run out of the magic domain and apologize to Wilbur. They had no intention of stopping until Phil yelled out in a panic.

“No, wait- Circe!” It was too late by the time they heard him as they were already halfway out of the illusion, but as soon as they felt the chilled air on the other side, their vision darkened. The last thing they could feel was their fall being stopped by hands grabbing their arms and holding them most steadily by the waist. It didn’t seem to take too long for them to regain consciousness as their eyes settled on the treetops around them, hardly outlined against the night sky.

“Hey there, are you with me?” They turned their vision to beside them, being met with Phil’s face. He smiled at them despite the worry that was prevalent in his expression. The pounding in their head hit shortly after, holding their forehead with one hand as they groaned softly as they were pushed up into a sitting position though Phil kept his arm on their shoulders for support.

“What just happened?” Y/n mumbled out, tears were starting to prick their eyes from the pain. Phil ran a hand over their head to smooth out their hair, tending to them in a caring manner. “I assume… I shouldn’t have tried to leave that fast huh.” The realization had come slowly and he laughed softly at them, now holding their gaze.

“It was a bit too strong for you, that would be my fault. I should have warned you much earlier about that, the drastic change in magic around all around you to nothing but small traces of natural magic is enough to take anyone down especially after being surrounded by it for so long like we were.” He got his feet under him and stood up but kept a slight lean as he held both hands out to help them up. It took quite the effort to pull them up since their body still felt weak and their legs were jello, but they were standing at least with the help of holding onto Phil for dear life. “Wanna head back to the house? I’m sure Will has already started cooking and we can get you some medicine.”

They sighed, dropping their head onto his chest. “Yeah… that’s fine. I need a minute though.” Each time they moved so they could adjust their position, their legs nearly gave out so they didn’t want to risk collapsing on the way.

“Do you need me to carry you?” He offered, leaning his head to the side to see their face but they just laughed.

“No, no I’m fine.”

A couple of moments passed by and he started to push them off of him but consoled them quickly when they started to panic. “You’re fine, just let me pick you up okay?” He waited until they nodded that it was okay and slowly scooped them up into his arms since it was the easiest way to carry them other than on his back as his wings made that a bit difficult. They kept an arm around his neck to feel more secure and leaned into him a little, head resting on their arm over his shoulder. He didn’t prompt them to talk since they were visibly tired so that gave them time to just think while he made his way through the brush and trees.

They hummed softly before muttering. “Phil?”

“Yeah mate?”

“Why did you call me Circe?”

“Oh, yeah I guess I did huh?” He chuckled at his carelessness and glanced down at them though they only matched his gaze last second before he looked away to watch where he was going. “I’m sorry about that, I’ve been thinking about you and your resemblance to her since I mentioned it. I guess it fits you better than expected so I felt compelled to call you it.” He trailed off, the silence being filled with the crunching of sticks and leaves still on the ground from autumn that hasn’t had time to decompose since that year’s winter had come on too fast. They had begun to space out but snapped back when hearing him whisper to them. “I won’t make the mistake again, don’t worry.”

“Actually… it’s okay.” They moved their head a bit to watch the scenery pass as Phil walked, finally getting past the treeline “It’s endearing.”

Phil looked down at them and laughed softly. “You like it?” They nodded their head, not being able to help a smile. “Hm… I might just continue to use it then how’s that sound-” Right as he finished his sentence they both were startled by the door of the house being slammed open. They looked toward the sound to see Technoblade standing there with a hand on the wide-open door, looking slightly disheveled and worried.

“Phil! There you are!” Techno ran down the stairs and to the two, grasping Phil’s shoulders and checking him over feverishly while Phil watched amusingly. He looked Y/n over once he was sure Phil was okay. “I didn’t know where you two were, I was worried and- why do you both reek of magic? Did something happen? Are you okay? Why are you carryi-”

Phil cut him off “Hey hey, mate we’re fine! We are both okay, calm down.” He tenses up his wings and gives them a little shake before relaxing them again. “I was just teaching them and they left my realm illusion a little too fast and they aren’t used to strong magic changes like that.” He adjusted them in his arms and glanced at them. “They are just a little weak. If you want to help though, can you carry them into their room for me? I might be strong enough to carry them, but not for a long time.”

Techno took Y/n from Phil quickly and without a word, letting them get comfortable in his arms like they were with Phil. He waited to head toward the house until Phil started walking and made sure to keep to his side, he was acting just like a dog who hasn’t seen his owner for a little too long. He asked little questions on what the two were practicing and listening intently to Phil as he explained, though Y/n had to close their eyes at this point as a wave of drowsiness washed over them as they listened to the two talking. The deep rumble in Techno’s chest every time he spoke was oddly comforting, almost equivalent to that of a cat purring.

It seemed they dozed off because they were being gently laid on their bed the next thing they knew. The pillows had already been propped up so they could sit up easier. They sat back and looked at Techno once he had set them down. He gave them a light smile, patting them on the head to mess their hair up a little.

“Phil’s gonna be back soon, he’s getting you something to eat.” He said before turning away to talk out the door.

“Uh- Technoblade? Could you tell Wilbur to come here for me?” They sat up straight, waiting for a reply as he looked back at them. With a little laugh, he gave them a thumbs up and left the room with a small wave to them.

A few moments passed by while they waited, in that time Poppy raced into their room to offer nuzzles and lay on them to make everything better. They had become so focused on the cat and giving her attention that they didn’t notice Wilbur in the doorway until he knocked. Looking up at him in surprise, he waved with a smile and slowly walked over to their side with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, I heard from dad what happened. How are you feeling?”

“Tired?” They laughed, watching as he sat on the side of the bed while they spoke. “I’m doing okay, I’m sure I’ll be fine by morning. Speaking of, Will I’m so sorry. I meant to come and help you learn guitar today but Phil kept me so busy that by the time he said to stop, it was night.” They leaned forward to emphasize their seriousness. “Tomorrow, bright and early, We’ll go down in the basement and I’ll help teach you okay?”

“Only if you’re feeling up to it alright?” He reached over, petting Poppy and making the cat lean into his hand and roll over to get more pets. “I don’t think anyone here wants you overdoing it.”

“I will and I promise, we can spend the whole day if you want.” They told him, glancing up when they noticed movement by the doorway again and seeing Phil with a bowl and a piece of bread.

He walked over and set it on the night table which was on the opposite side of the bed that Wilbur was on. “All day?” He asked, looking at Y/n who turned to him.

“Is that alright?”

“Hm..” Phil put his hands on his hips, dramatically taking his time to think. “I guess so, you probably want to have a day to recover from this huh.” With a small laugh, he rubbed their back lightly before heading out of the room. “Eat up and both of you sleep soon, it’s late.”

“Goodnight Phil!”

“Goodnight!” Wilbur echoed, watching him go before he looked back to Y/n. He looked like he had something he wanted to say but took a deep breath and smiled at them, getting up off the bed. “Hey you better enjoy the soup, I made it. And if I do say so myself, I did a great job on it.” They giggled a bit at him and he sighed with a little shake of his head. “You’re a really great person… I’m glad we met you. Ahem! Good night dearest Y/n and I’ll reconvene with you in the morning!” Making a show of bowing to them and standing up tall with his hands behind his back, he saluted before sharply turning and walking out the door.

They called after him with a laugh. “Sleep well, Wilbur!” Watching him go, they smiled to themself and with a few pets for Poppy they focused on eating so they could sleep and be ready for the day tomorrow.

-

“Now Y/n remember, I’m sure you won’t be using any magic but be wary alright?” Phil stood in front of them, holding intense eye contact before looking down at the eye of ender around their neck. He brought a hand up to hold it and examine it while they watched him. “I’ve been worried about this and I don’t know exactly how it’s going to affect you once we start playing with magic more. I could feel it sapping my magic from me yesterday…” He shook his head and let go of it, holding their arms. “Just… come to me if you feel off, okay? I’ll be right in my room with Techno.”

He sent them off with that, heading to his room where they assumed Techno was waiting for him. Wilbur was outside with Tommy since he demanded Wilbur come to see the sheep he has made friends with since everyone but him had seen. Y/n had Tommy tag along that morning when they went to feed the animals and he excitedly showed them how close he had gotten with some of the sheep and even a couple of the chickens. It warmed their heart to know he had something to fill the childish part of him that he wasn’t able to express when training to be in the guard.

They headed down into the basement to wait for Wilbur and decided to catch up on some reading. All of the talk of magic with Phil brought back their interest in it big time. They searched through the shelves, trying to find one that seemed like it had a lot of useful information that could help when Phil was teaching them. Standing against the bookshelf, they flipped through a book, stopping to read a page or two every once in a while until the front door closed and there were hurried steps down the stairs.

“Sorry for being so late, Tommy was telling me the names of all the sheep he named- I hope you didn’t already have names for them because he is all about this one being named Karen,” Wilbur said with a laugh as he got down the basement and looked up at Y/n who had the book in their hand, watching him. “Heh, uh hope I didn’t disturb your reading.”

They snickered, closing the book with a thump and sliding it back into its place on the shelf. “Oh, not at all.” Walking up behind one of the two plush chairs they had, crossed their arms on the back and looked up at Wilbur. “So, what all did you learn yesterday?”

“Oh! Well uh…” He grabbed the guitar up from beside the bookshelves opposite of Y/n where they kept the music books and sat over on the bottom step of the stairs. It took him a few moments of remembering out how to hold the instrument again, but once he had that down he strummed a few chords out of place before playing the standard ‘hot cross buns’ and after getting praise from Y/n he played ‘mary had a little lamb’ and ‘good king wenceslas’ which was a favorite of Y/n’s when it came to easier tunes to play.

“How did I do? That’s all I got to teach myself yesterday.”

Y/n walked over to him and knelt down where they adjusted how he held his fingers on the strings. “It’s easier to play and better on your hands this way. I think you did really well, better than I was and I learned just by listening to someone play and watching how they did it.”

He perked up at that, seeming to forget they knew how to play despite wanting them to teach him so desperately. “Do you want to play something? I’d love to see you play.” He offered the guitar to them to which they looked at it, seeming hesitant.

“Oh I don’t know, at this point, I think you’re better than me. It’s been a long time since I’ve played.” They touched the wood of the guitar, thinking back on when they last played. “I stopped making time for it when the hunters got bad. I guess I just fell out of it after that.”

“Well… maybe you can try again?” He met their eyes and pushed the guitar towards them again. “I know you’re learning new magic things, so maybe you can do something cool with that.” They took a moment to think about what he said and looked back at the instrument. Finally, they reached to take it from his hands and he seemed eager to give it up, pushing it onto them as soon as they had it.

They couldn’t help but laugh and sat back on the ground and crossed their legs as they situated the guitar, strumming a few chords and getting comfortable with the feel of it again. “Hm.. let’s see what I can remember here.” They strummed a few chords until something finally came to them. “Oh! I’ve got one, okay… I’m not sure how good this will be but…”

Humming softly as they started, they bounced their foot a little to keep time. They had to restart once with a small grumble but seemed to get the hang of it better with the second start. “Alright, so I think it goes a little bit like… I can feel it on my tongue. Brick and mortar, as thick as scripture. Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders, as tall as towers. I babble on until my voice is gone.” They sang, getting a feel for the music more as they went through as soon as they were singing the next verses they felt eyes on them. Other than Wilbur’s of course. They glanced up past him to see Phil, leaning against the doorway on the top floor of the house just listening. When realizing they were looking at him, he just smiled and waved a little before giving a gesture to tell them to continue playing. They smiled a little and gave a glance back at Wilbur then to their hands as they focused on playing.

“‘Cause like constellations a million years away, every good intention…”

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[misterewrites]

Intro to Caitlyn 101 (Mirror’s Edge)

Summary:  Caitlyn is a thief looking for the next big score. Used to taking wristwatches and wallets from rich folk, she's aiming to take down bigger game as she discovers the hidden magical world within her hometown. Her first mark is an unassuming shopkeeper and his collect of ancient relics. All set with a plan, Caitlyn makes her move. Though plans rarely go off without a hitch.

Hello everyone! E here, hoping you are all well and staying safe. So the next chapter of my little side project is here! Honestly wasn't planning on getting back to this so soon but I was having fun worldbuilding and character creating and here we are. You can blame my friend @hains-mae for enabling me.

Right so the next thing I write will probably be the part two to this then the next chapter of the Underground. Umm that's really it for me so have a great week, be safe, wear your mask, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Please feel free to reblog, share, leave kudos or leave comments with things you liked or feedback if you read it on a03. I promised I'd try to promote myself more and it feels weird haha.

E is out, have a great one everyone! and here’s the link to the doobly do 

---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/76014323

There was an arrogance that seemed deeply etched into every aspect of the magical world. She stood among valuable, ancient relics from throughout human history: Vases from Greece lined the shelf above her. A row of Roman gladius blades in various states of decay with only a flimsy glass case between them and Caitlyn’s pocket. Tarnished Victorian era slivered lockets left about like loose change.

Millions dollars worth of the past and she, a stranger, was left unattended with it all.

Technically she wasn’t supposed to be in here with the locked door and close sign but the fact in the 5 minutes it took her to pick the lock and scout the first floor without a single soul attempting to stop her really was a testimony to the haughtiness of the ‘shopkeeper’.

It had been only few months since she saw past the false reality that was superimposed onto hers and she was still readjusting: Magic was real. Elves, dwarves, little halfing folk? Real. People shooting bolts of lightning and flames while riding storm clouds? Real. The guy who kept awkwardly hitting on her every time she tried to get a hotdog from the cart at the corner? Just a regular creep BUT could’ve been magical.

Even their currency was a show of their excessive wealth: Sliver, gold, platinum coins Actual platinum traded away like it was nothing! People starving and helpless on the streets and these bastards just walked with some of the rarest metal on the planet in their pockets like chump change.

Anger bubbled within her stomach along with self righteousness and a bit of her breakfast but she took a deep calming breath, closing her bluish gray eyes. ‘Calm down Cait’ she scolded herself ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen excessive wealth squandered and wasted. You’re here for a job so do it and never come back.’

She glanced around the waiting room she found herself in. It was off to the side of the shopping front andthere were very few things of interest in the tiny room: Some old, tattered chairs that had seen better days. A very, very tacky abstract painting hung over a bricked up fireplace. There was a scattering of magazines older than her with loose stables and free roaming pages everywhere.

A place of show and very little use.

“Hello my angel.”

Caitlyn seized up. She had been so caught up in her rage she hadn’t been paying attention to anyone coming down the stairs. Three stories with a handful of people about and nary a sound could heard. Must be some sort of magic.

She shook herself out of her stupor, slowly exhaling to calm her nerves. She forced her lips to curve into the cutest, lost smile she could muster. She opened her purple jacket a bit further so the guy could get a clearer view of her tight white tank top and running shorts.

“Helpless. Remember you’re helpless.” She whispered to herself before whirling about, her long black hair with dyed purple coloring flowed behind her gracefully as if she was an actress in those stupid hair product commercials.

“Oh!” she spoke with mock surprise, scrunching her face cutely as possible “I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m lost and the door was open and sorry!”

She leaned forward, sheepishly scratching the back of her neck as she gave whoever it was a better view of her outfit.

Hook, line and sinker.

“No problem sweetie. No need to lie to me.”

Hook, line and sunk apparently.

She blinked, unsure if she heard what she thought she heard. She glanced up to find a strangely dressed man with the goofiest grin.

He was cute in a ‘I dress as an obscure, indie character for cosplay’kind of way: His messy, unkempt black hair sat under a black fedora. He wore a long black trench coat that had seen better days. At least he preferred more colors than black on black. His collared shirt was a nice baby blue with an equally nice light brown vest. Black dress pants because men’s fashion is incredibly boring and shiny loafers to completed the look. Whatever the look was.

She expected him to be taking a good look at her attire.

What she found was him staring at her.

His warm dark brown eyes were soft, gentle and he refused to break his gaze from her bluish grays even though there were more tempting sights on offer.

She was on the back foot. No wandering glances, no self pleasured smiles. Not even a creepy chuckle. Just a strangely dressed, inch shorter guy looking like he just found the love of his life in this moment.

“I…” she cleared her throat “Umm….did you hear me?”

He gave a quick nod “Yeah. You broke in and you were trying to cover your tracks.”

It wasn’t that he guessed correctly what was she up to that threw her off. It was how casually he said it. More discussing the weather than committing a felony.

She raised an eyebrow, not sure how to proceed from whatever this was. There were always some people who caught on about her intentions fairly quickly but no one had ever been so….indifferent about it.

“I don’t work here.” the man offered, slowly closing the distance between them but leaving the doorframe wide open “I really don’t care that you’re here to rob the place.”

This has to be a trap. This had to be. No one was ever this….laidback. Were the other goons on the side waiting to jump her when she bolted? Was she on camera and he was letting her go knowing full well he had all the evidence he needed to track her down?

Or maybe he really didn’t care. He seemed more interested in talking than stopping her and there was this strange presence about him. A calm she’d never felt before even when her parents were alive. It was odd and foreign to her but she felt safe. Protected.

She shook her head, slowly inching closer to the doorway. The man made no attempt stop her. He just stood there, smiling, hands in his pocket.

The rational part of her brain said to run. This whole thing was botched and it was better to cut her losses than find out first hand what magical creatures could do to her. The less rational side of her head told her to wait, to talk this guy. Lying was obviously pointless but she had a feeling he would answer any questions she’d had and she had plenty.

“So…” she rose a suspicious eyebrow “Not gonna stop me?”

He shook his head “I wish you’d stay but I understand if you don’t want to be found in Andor’s shop. He’s one of those new elves. Less honor more power.”

She blinked. He said elves right? Just threw it out there like it was an everyday matter of fact and not a deeply held secret of her hometown.

“Elves aren’t real.’ Caitlyn said matter of fact.

“We both know better than that.” The man gave a bright smile.

“What do you want?”

The words spilled out of her mouth despite her best attempts but this guy was throwing her off so badly she forgot how to function.

“Talk to you of course.”

The worst kind of people were the sincere ones. They were sappy and gooey. They just so happy it was sickening. They had to be up to something. They had to some scheme or scam or something they were waiting to drop on you. No one was that happy, that purely honest. They were the liars who were so good they convinced themselves they were good people. No one was good and everyone had a dark corner in their soul they hid from the world.

Caitlyn knew she had plenty in whatever was left of her ratty soul.

“And if we talk? Will you let me go?”

The man nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Caitlyn licked her lips anxiously “Promise?”

Promise? What was she 12? No one kept their promises. Not even her.

He placed his hand over his heart “Cross my heart.”

“Let’s talk,”

He jerked his head towards the door “Outside. Don’t want you to ruin your heist.”

-----

Today was not going how she was expecting. She was thought she was going to break into an elf ran front, scout the area and come back in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been expecting to have coffee and bread with a random stranger on the street.

Well she had coffee, mystery man opted for hot chocolate.

They stood in a strangely comfortable silence a block from Andor’s. The man offered to pay for whatever she wanted and she took him up on it. Couple of baked goods, a sandwich for lunch, some water and of course her cup of wake up juice. If he was mad at her for her splurging at his expense, he hid it well. He just took his coco and some fancy elvish bread. Looked good but Caitlyn wasn’t up for trying other beings food. She didn’t know how it would sit with her stomach.

The elf who ran the cart, a few months ago human to her, waved goodbye to the pair as he counted the human cash the man gave him.

The trench coat cosplay stood patiently, sipping his drink and waited for her to break the silence.

She refused to break the silence first. Not wanting to sound too eager. Eagerness was a weakness and this guy was already throwing her off her rhythm.

“I’m Finnrick by the way.”

She turned to him, unsure if he was messing with her or not.

He gave her the same goofy smile “Finnrick Drift, private investigator.”

“Ah huh.” She nodded slowly “So you’re a magical P.I.? Like elves cheating on their wives, dwarves dodging their taxes P.I.?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders “Ironically elves like dodging on their taxes more than dwarves.”

“Right.”

“You’re new to the whole other side of Newton Haven huh?”

She glanced at her coffee “Lived here my whole life. Really makes me wonder if I lost my mind.”

“Don’t worry, we’re all mad here Alice.”

Why was she talking to him? Why was she being honest? This was weirder and getting weirder every passing second.

Finnrick changed subject “So, robbing Andor? Any particular loot you are after?”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes “Trying to fish something out of me Finny?”

“Guilty as charged” He beamed with pure happiness “Don’t want you wasting your time on shiny trinkets he cares nothing about.”

Caitlyn remained silent. She wasn’t used to such transparency. Normally this would be the point where the guy would lie or pretend to not have heard or awkwardly switch the subject but Finnrick answered openly and honestly. So far.

“So” Caitlyn straightened up, pulling her jacket wide open “What do you think? Great outfit right?”

Finnrick turned to her with a grin, his cheeks turning a pinkish hue as his eyes locked onto hers “Your body is absolutely lovely but your eyes even more so.”

Caitlyn could feel the flush coming. She coughed loudly, focusing on her drink as she willed the embarrassment away.

Finnrick chuckled lightly but returned to his drink. The silence returned, still comfortable as before.

This is was bad whatever this was. She needed to regain some level of control and stop acting like a teenage girl on her first garbage fire of a date.

“So” she cleared her throat “Mister P.I. what would you recommend taking if not all those millions of dollars of historical items he leaves about?”

Finnrick crushed the foam cup effortlessly as he gestured to the third floor of the shop “His office has a pretty simple safe. He keeps loads of paperwork. His various contracts, accounts, treasure hoards”

Caitlyn scoffed in disbelief even though her eyes shone with excitement “Treasure hoards? Elves? I thought dragons were the hoarders. Weren’t elves supposed to be above all that lovely corruption?”

“No one is above corruption.’ Finnrick answered “Elves are just like everyone else.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and leaned back with a cocky swagger “And why, pray tell, would I care about boring paperwork?”

“Because it really hurt him in the pride.”

Damn Finnrick was good. Not only she was eager to learn more, she could already feel the smug satisfaction of bringing a powerful prick down a peg fill her cause.

Finnrick seemed to notice this because he went on “Andor is a young elf. 100 years give or take.”

“A hundred years is young?”

“When you live a thousand years every other race is a child to you. Andor’s old man is a swell guy. He’s one of those good elves you see in Tolkien.”

“Tolkien?” Caitlyn furrowed her brow “He wrote the books that those Lord of the Rings films are based on right?”

“Yeah actually.”

“Oh and the Hob…”

“We don’t talk about that.” Finnrick quickly added “But see the problem is Andor’s old man doesn’t know his son has become the small time crime lord. Thinks he’s running an antique business selling off old junk that was gathering dust in the family’s attic.”

Something clicked into place for Caitlyn “Wait. Junk from the attic? You mean all those relics on the shop floor?! THAT’S OLD JUNK!?”

Finnrick gave a casual shrug “Elves are weird. Andor don’t know shit about selling, all his money comes from his illegal business practices. That’s how he keeps the shop afloat.”

“I see” Caitlyn spoke, her bluish grays sparkling with mischievous intent “If those records disappeared, his shop sinks and he has to run back home to daddy.”

“And out of the city” Finnrick finished with a smile “And those records are pretty valuable to loads of people. Easier to fence and less messy to explain than a long lost Greek vase showing up in someone’s private collection. You’d get good prices for those hoard locations alone. Better than trying to carry tons of stolen and lost treasure back to your house.”

Caitlyn eyed Finnrick carefully “And you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart? Trying to do your ‘civic’ duty to our fair city?”

“Among other things” Finnrick admitted “But mostly for the greater good.”

“Pfft, greater good? Yeah sure buddy. Like you know what’s the greater good.”

“Will you do it?”

Caitlyn paused, allowing all this information sink in. It was much better than she had planned and while she wasn’t sure of Finnrick’s angle, he seemed honest enough. Of course everyone seems honest enough the first time you meet them.

“Let’s say I do” she spoke, placing her hands on her hips to play the part “What’s in it for you?”

“A favor” He replied simply.

She rose a curious eyebrow “A favor? It’s not date with me, is it?”

“No, I plan to earn that one myself.” Finnrick answered cheerfully.

Caitlyn coughed “Fine, good. Not a date. Least you’re not a creep. But a favor is pretty vague.”

“It’ll be simple I promise.”

Caitlyn narrowed her gaze suspiciously “You promise?”

Finnrick put his hand over his heart again “Cross my heart.”

Caitlyn took a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.

Caitlyn offered her hand towards the trench coat cosplayer “You got yourself a deal.”

He gently took her hand in his own and gave it a firm shake. She was surprised when, as he pulled back, she felt a strange metallic item left behind.

She looked at the crystal butterfly hair clip he placed in her hand: It was a beautiful with sliver hues and multi-colored shards of glass across its wings.

“What’s this?”

“A gift.”

Caitlyn felt uneasy with the ornament in her palm: It felt cold and distant like it was feeling her out and wasn’t liking what it found.

“It’s attuning to you.” Finnrick explained “It’s syncing up to your whole aura.”

“Aura?” Caitlyn shot him a glare of disbelief “This isn’t one of those new age hippie things is it?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s a magical item. Yours specifically. Everything alive has a deep and very convoluted to explain connection to this plane. The hairclip is trying to match yours so you and only you can use it.”

“It feels wrong.”

“Because it doesn’t know you yet. It will.”

Caitlyn felt unease about whatever this was. Part of her wanted to toss it as far as she could. The worst part was she felt the item probing at her, changing temperatures as if trying find a comfortable setting for both of them. Burning one moment and too cold the next. This was magic and it made her felt like she knew nothing.

But part of her felt it slowly and subtly trying to match her, focusing on her and on her place in the universe. It felt more natural each passing moment and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious what mister detective over here was letting her borrow.

Caitlyn blew a strand of hair out of her face “How long does this usually take?”

“An hour.” Finnrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone “Oh shoot I have a meeting to get to.”

He turned to leave and suddenly Caitlyn felt alone. Awkward just standing in the street without someone to talk to.

“Wait!” She reached for him but quickly pulled back when he faced her “….any advice?”

Finnrick scratched his chin for a moment “Red tiles. Avoid them or they’ll blast you off the roof.”

“G-gotcha.” Caitlyn didn’t want to know what blast off the roof was code for “A-and the hairclip? What’s it do?”

Finnrick gave a cheeky grin and Caitlyn could feel her face flush “I guess you’ll have to find out angel. Bye for now. May we meet again soon.”

And like that, he was off. Strolling down the straight with a bounce in his step and humming a tune.

Caitlyn glanced at the ornate hairclip in her hand.

Turns out there was a lot more to this magical world than she thought.

[elisaphoenix13]

Delusional (Ch.2)

He wished that he never went to Afghanistan. His brief trip turned into a three month nightmare, which he only escaped because of Scott. His kid was the sole reason he survived and he had been determined to get home. Thanks to Yinsen, he had been able to achieve his freedom, but it was at the cost of the other man's life. Even if he wanted to die to rejoin his family, it still weighed on Tony and gave his determination to get home to Scott a bigger boost.

By some miracle, Rhodey and a team were flying around looking for him in the middle of the desert and he was home within 24 hours. Of course he cleaned up a bit. He knew Scott would be waiting on the tarmac for him and didn't want his kid to see him beaten, bleeding, and bruised. The electromagnet in his chest would be bad enough.

"How is he?" Tony asks as the plane starts it's landing. "How's my kid?"

"Scott was…inconsolable for the first month." Rhodey answers. "Then suddenly, one day, he hunkered down in the lab and hacked everything he could think of to find you. I had to pull a lot of strings to keep him out of trouble...but he helped find you."

Tony nods. "Scotty's a force to be reckoned with. It's a good thing he doesn't like violence or the rest of the world would be in trouble."

"Speaking of, can you please tell him to stop changing the nuclear codes?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. He has the right idea. I should be taking a page out of his book for once."

Once the plane lands, Rhodey helps him to his feet as the ramp lowers, and then down to the tarmac where Happy, Pepper, and Scott are waiting. He saw Scott's disappointed look when Tony refused the gurney they had rolled over, but Tony didn't care. He walked straight over to the younger man and pulled him into a tight hug, sighing with relief. He never took Scott for granted, but he still missed the ridiculous cowlick in his hair and the way he smelled of oranges and...candy? Something told Tony that Scott's diet largely consisted of candy at least in the past few weeks.

"You smell like you could go for a cheeseburger too." Tony finally says and Scott looks at him incredulously.

"You've been missing for three months, assumed dead, and that's the first thing you say to me?" Scott frowns.

"What? You want me to drop to my knees and sob overdramatically about how much I missed you?" Tony asks and Scott makes a face. "Yeah. I didn't think so. So a cheeseburger and a press conference."

"A press conference?" Pepper asks, surprised as she gets in the car with the men. "You should go to the hospital-"

"Cheeseburger. And a press conference." Tony repeats firmly.

He left no room for argument and Pepper eventually relented and called whoever she needed to to get the press conference to happen. In the meantime, Tony wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulders and pulled him close, needing him to stay nearby. He needed the closeness, and for now he needed Scott to stay where he could see him. At least just for now. That was when Scott noticed the faint glow through his shirt and he sat up a little.

"Dad? What's that?" Scott reaches out and unbuttons the first few buttons before Tony can stop him and the younger male stares.

"I'll explain later alright? When we get home."

Fortunately, Scott nodded and let the subject drop and soon enough, Happy was passing a bag of Burger King back to them. Scott barely opened it and handed one to Tony before he was practically inhaling it, so his son decided to hand him his second one before getting his own. Tony was just opening his second one as the car pulled up to the building and Happy gets out and rounds the car to let them out. Everything up to the point of his announcement was a bit of a blur after that. He was tired, he hurt, and honestly he wanted to go home and fall into bed for a couple of days.

Seeing the look on Scott's face though? It made Tony absolutely sure of his decision to shut down the weapons department. They would find a new way for the company to thrive. And Tony was going to take a page from Scott's book like he should have the moment Stark Industries was his.

The Merchant of Death was no more.

======

One of the first things Tony did after he slept for 18 hours was go down to his lab and make an upgraded version of his mini arc reactor. Something more reliable that wasn't made from parts found in a cave and wouldn't remind him of the pain and torture he endured in those three months. It didn't take long for him to finish, but once he got himself hooked up to an EKG and sat himself in a chair, he realized his newest predicament.

His hands were too big.

"JARVIS? Where's Scott?" Tony asks. "Nevermind." He grabs his phone and video calls Scott. When the younger man answers, he sees him eating a sandwich. "Two things. Bring me a sandwich and come help me real quick."

"Sure."

The video call abruptly ends and in just a few minutes, Scott walks down to the lab with Tony's sandwich and walks over to him. He looks at all of the equipment around his father and then at the new arc reactor as he sets the plate down.

"You're not doing surgery on yourself are you?" Scott asks.

"Nope. You are." Tony says and Scott pales. "I'm kidding. Sort of. Let me see your hands."

Scott holds up his hands and Tony nods. They were definitely smaller than his. Small enough at least.

"Perfect. You're helping me replace this." Tony takes the old piece out of his chest and Scott watches in trepidation.

"What do you want me to do?" Scott asks.

"There's an exposed wire which is why I needed to replace it. Need you to pull it out without touching...just treat it like Operation. You liked that game."

"Yeah, when I was four and not pulling weird things out of my dad." Scott moves closer and reaches in anyway, making a face when his fingers squelch in the plasma. "Oh god. This is so gross and smells-"

"Yeah it does." Tony says with humor in his voice.

He tried warning Scott about the magnet at the end, but it was pulled out before he could finish his sentence and the machine beside him beeps in warning. Scott startles and looks at it, but Tony manages to get his attention again.

"Hey, don't worry about the machines. Put that down and take this." Tony says, giving Scott the new piece once his son puts the old one down. "Connect it to the plate-there you go." Tony praises and helps lock it into place. "All done. You did great. Thanks."

Scott grimaces and wipes his hands on a nearby rag. "Never ask me to do that again. Ask someone else to do it."

"I only have you kiddo." Tony says seriously and Scott looks at him before sighing and picking up the old arc reactor.

"What should I do with this?"

"Get rid of it. Destroy it... whatever." Tony shrugs and grabs his sandwich after pulling his shirt back on.

"You might need it for parts." Scott says and takes it over to an iron shelf to place with other discarded projects. "You'll thank me later."

"I doubt it."

Scott rolls his eyes and follows Tony over to his desk where he sits down and starts scrolling through some files until sending one over to the holotable. Blueprints of the iron suit he had made and escaped in. Ever since he got back, all he could think about was keeping Scott safe. And he figured he could do that with the suit. A properly upgraded one that wasn't clunky...but this would be for him. He was serious when he said he was shutting down the weapons department of the company, but he couldn't just sit back with this idea in his lap.

"What's that?" Scott asks.

"This," Tony starts, trashing parts of the blueprint in the Holo trash can. "Is how I escaped."

"Shall I upload this to the company server Sir?" JARVIS asks.

"No. Keep it in my private server. I don't know who I can trust right now."

"Not Obie." Scott grumbles and Tony looks over at him.

"What? Why?"

Scott shrugs. "I don't know. He was weirdly calm while you were missing...and he tried to give me a cheeseburger." When Tony gives him a confused look, he clarifies. "The bun had sesame seeds on it."

"He probably forgot or didn't realize." Tony says and looks back at the suit. "But noted."

He didn't want Scott to think he was brushing him off.

"Why are you making adjustments to that?" Scott asks, watching his father work.

"I'm making this for myself...and you in a way. It will give me peace of mind to know I have a way to protect you." Tony trashes another part and opens the arms of the suit.

"Dad-"

"Please." Tony says, stopping and looking at Scott again. "I'm not making weapons for the rest of the world anymore, but you can be damn well sure that I'm going to make armor to protect what's important to me."

Scott didn't argue further. Maybe because he realized how much Tony needed this. And even more surprising? He actually helped. Over the next week, he helped write the code JARVIS would need when they integrated him into the suit, and helped find screwdrivers that Tony misplaced. Tony liked having a project to do with Scott. It used to be cars since Scott refused to work with weapons, but now they had the suit.

And on some occasions Scott had to console DUM-E. Especially after Tony called him a tragedy. It wasn't his fault DUM-E couldn't follow simple directions.

Okay, maybe it was...a little.

"Okay. Got the camera rolling?" Tony asks Scott as he steps onto the testing area wearing the flight pieces of his suit.

"Yup...and DUM-E has the fire extinguisher as always." Scott answers and looks up from the camera.

"Alright." Tony readies his stance. "We'll start off with 10% thrust capacity and see if it gets us off the ground."

The whirring grows louder and then Tony starts his countdown from three. The moment he hits one, he presses the handheld switches, immediately getting thrown up and backwards. He hits the low ceiling before crumpling to the floor and DUM-E turns to him and sprays him with the fire extinguisher as Scott runs over to him. The second the younger realizes he's generally okay, he bites his lip and starts to turn red.

Probably from trying not to laugh.

"If I hear a snicker from you, I will ground you forever. No oranges or lollipops."

Scott bursts into laughter a moment later and Tony sighs and holds up his arm.

"Help me up you brat."

"I think it's safe to say that 10% gets you off the ground." Scott snickers once he gets himself under control, and reaches down to help him to his feet.

"Ahahaha, so funny." Tony takes off the suit pieces with Scott's help and walks over to the workbench.

"It was. And now we will forever have a record of it." Scott smiles and watches Tony start designing the arms of the suit.

"I'd delete it but I'm sure you'll find a way to restore it and squirrel it away somewhere."

Scott only confirms his theory with a laugh and they both look over to the door when it hisses open. Pepper walks in and approaches them after setting some paperwork down.

"Didn't you hear the intercom? I've been buzzing you. Obadiah's upstairs." She tells them and Scott scrunches his nose.

"What? Oh, right. I'll be right up." He pulls his arm and the bones of the suit's arm from the stand with it.

"I thought you were done making weapons."

"He is." Scott answers. "That's a flight stabilizer."

"Completely harmless." Tony adds.

He powers it up and activates it, sending things - and himself - flying. Unfortunately his landing pad had been Scott, who was standing behind him when he shot the stabilizer and Tony immediately rolled off of him. Scott groans and holds the back of his head as he sits up and Pepper looks down at both of them incredulously.

"Seriously, how is he still alive?" Pepper asks.

"In my defense, I didn't expect that." Tony says and gets up with Scott's help once the younger recovers.

"You say that more than you think." Pepper says. "Brought paperwork for you to look at and sign. Obie is upstairs. Scott? Are you okay sweetie?"

"Still better than an asthma attack." Scott answers.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to come down here and find you both dead." Pepper sighs.

"It's plausible." Tony says and starts for the stairs.

Pepper only scoffs.

[samstrugglingwithlife]

S/O Has An Anxiety Attack

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Character: Daichi

Warning: Anxiety symptoms

A/n: I hope you enjoy this! I really have a soft spot for people who suffer from anxiety and or depression, mainly because I myself have severe anxiety and depression and I want nothing more than to want to protect everyone feeling down.

DAICHI

If Daichi could rip out his heart from his chest and give it to you, he would've done that the day you agreed to be his girlfriend. You were the epitome of happiness and radiance, you brought out the side of him he didn't know existed. He felt young when he was around you, he felt his age, as if all the burdens and responsibilities that came with his position all washed away. Daichi had never seen you feeling anything but happiness. Even when you were quiet, you had a content expression on your face, a gentle smile playing at your lips. You would always hop around and interact so youthfully with everyone round that as far as Daichi could observe, there was not a single person who disliked you. Even that stingy Tsukishima was powerless before your charm. "Daichi, babe can you pass me the mirin from the top cabinet?" you ask your boyfriend, pointing at the top shelf of the pantry cabinet. It was a cold winter night, and the two of you were in your house making dinner while your mom and dad were away on a trip. He handed you the bottle and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder, watching you stir the ingredients in the pot. "What time did they say they were gonna come back?" he asked. You looked at the wall clock and blinked, "They should be home by now," you say, feeling just a tiny bit worried. "I should call them." Daichi took the ladle from your hand and continued stirring as you reach for your mobile phone. You tapped on your mom's contact and pressed the phone to your ear. With every ring, your heart grew more and more anxious until your mother finally picked up, "Hello?" you breathed a sigh of relief as soon as you heard her voice. "Mom, where are you? You guys have me worried sick!" You hear crackling on the other side, "Sorry sweetie, it started snowing, and the roads are kinda slippery, so we're driving slow. It's gonna take us a while. You should eat dinner and go to bed." You gasp, "It's snowing?! Get off the road then! You shouldn't be driving in this weather!" "Your voice is cutting up. We'll see you at home," with that your mom hung up. "Mom? Mom!" you called into the receiver, but she had already hung up. Your hands began to tremble, and your vision got blurry with tears, you were starting to feel anxious for your parents' safety. Within seconds, Daichi was by your side. "Y/n? what's wrong? Is everything okay?" "It's snowing, and my parents are on the road," your voice trembles with every word. "Daichi, I'm worried!" you whimper. His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw how distraught you were. You were whimpering and trembling, your breathing was ragged, and tears were streaming down your face, your face was dreadfully pale. This was the first time he had seen you like this, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, "Y/n, it's gonna be okay. Your dad is an awesome driver, they'll get home safe. I promise," he kept on rambling reassurances but to no avail. Your condition kept getting worse, Daichi had to hold you up, otherwise, you'd sink to the floor. "Y/n tell me what to do?" he begged. "I want to help, make you feel better." "The-" you took several deep breaths so you could speak. "The cabinet in my bathroom," you begin. "Look for the bottle w-with (your prescribed medication formula) written on it. Brin-bring me that." Daichi swallows and nods, he sits you on the couch and runs to your bathroom, he locates the medication and runs back into the kitchen to get you a glass of water. He puts the tablet on your hand, you place it in your mouth and helps you drink water to swallow it. Soon, you start to calm down. Daichi was sat beside you, brows furrowed with worry, as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. "You good?" he asks. You nod in reply, "But I'm still worried..." He hugged you close, "Everything will be fine. Your parents will be fine," he reassures you. "I'm sorry for worrying you like that," you apologise. Daichi pulls back and looks down at you, "Y/n, don't apologise. In fact, I should be the one apologising to you. If only I had known what to do, I could've helped you sooner..." he says, guilt evident in his eyes. You smile up at him, "At least you didn't run away." He gives you a sweet look, "How could I ever run away from you." He leans forward and captures your lips in a sweet and loving kiss, you sigh through your nostrils, wrapping your arms around his neck. Speaking of nostrils, you sniff, still tangling your lips with his. You immediately pull back. "D-did you turn off the stove?" you ask. Daichi stares at you wide-eyed, "Shit!" the two of you immediately scramble to your feet and rush into the kitchen. The stew you were cooking had completely burnt black, Daichi immediately turned off the heat and quite literally hurled the pot into the sink and turned the water on. The pot sizzled as steam rose up, you stepped on a chair to turn off the fire alarm. The two of you stared owlishly at each other, "So..." Daichi begins. "What's for dinner?"

[tiarnanabhfainni]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Characters: Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester Additional Tags: Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Mary Winchester, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Banshees, Celtic Mythology & Folklore,Fire,Pre-Stanford Era (Supernatural), look fair warning there's a description of mary winchester dying in this fic so keep that in mind!, ghost mary who haunts her family, is something i hold very dear to my heart, also this started as a tumblr post but i have not got the strength to go looking for it on my blog,just know that it was basically just an outline of this, also finally i write something where sam actually gets to feature, bean sí is just the irish for banshee btw its pronounced the same

As the moon at midnight moves through the starry sky Out there in the bog land the Banshee's shrill cry The one seldom heard and that human eyes cannot see Some say the ghost of one who died in agony.

- The Cry Of The Banshee By: Francis Duggan.

For the Prompt: AU on Day 2 of @spnwomenweek

Fire. She is burning and it is pain like she has never felt. Her body is not her own, it is stiff, unable to even react to the agony. Strapped to the ceiling. The smell of her own burning flesh overpowers her. The pain from the wound in her stomach pales in comparison to the feeling of eyeballs boiling in her skull and the skin sloughing off her bones.

She should have known. Hunting is a black hole - an inexorable votex. How could she have ever thought she could escape? Even as her nerve endings fry and her limbs screech in agony, she finds it within herself to hope that at least her family might survive her.

The pain fades away, exceeding the limits of human comprehension. A single-minded purpose takes its place in her consciousness. Her sacrifice will be worth it if it protects her family, if her two beautiful boys never live the life that she has. The deal is done, the demon should have no more business with her family. In her death she can make sure they are safe.

The last thing Mary sees is the horror on John’s face.

------------------------------------------------------

There has always been a ghost in Sam’s life. A woman who exists in the corner of his eyes and flickers when he shakes his head. Her haunting screams are as familiar to him as led zeppelin tapes crackling through the car radio. Together they form the soundtrack of his childhood.

She is pale. Completely washed of colour. Limp grey hair frames her wan face and there’s a suspicious darkness that stains the front of her long white nightgown.

When he was younger he couldn’t understand her erratic and ever changing moods. She seems to flip between disinterested floating to terrified wails between breaths and he can find no rhyme or reason.

Sam would ask his brother if he knew the reason but Dean cannot see her. No one can. He tried to tell Dean - once - after the woman kept him from sleeping for eight hours straight with screams. The response kept him from ever bringing her up again. Shut up Sammy. There’s no one there. You’re imagining things. Don’t tell dad. I mean it Sammy. Keep your mouth shut.

Eventually Sam finds a pattern for himself. His teachers always tell him that he’s clever. She only ever appears when his father is gone on one of his trips.

-----------------------------------------

When Dean finally caves and tells him about the monsters, Sam finally understands the insistence on keeping the woman a secret from their dad. As a ghost she is a part of the supernatural that his father fights.

And since Sam is the only one that can see her then that means - What does it mean?

As soon as the library opens again after the holidays he’s straight in the door and into the folklore section. He needs to understand what (who) this spectre is. After hours of research, there is only one real conclusion to be made. She must be a banshee. A death omen.

Armed with the truth of his dad’s trips, he makes the inevitable connection. She is a banshee and she screams when Sam’s dad is gone. And yet his dad is not yet dead. She has to be screaming for the monsters at the other end of the knife.

An uncomfortable thought drifts into view. If she screams for monsters and he's the only one who can hear her then does that mean that-? No. He slams the book closed and shoves his pile haphazardly back onto the shelf. Dean is expecting home in an hour.

But even as these fevered thoughts rattle through Sam’s brain on the walk home, he still never connects this woman to the other ghost that haunts their family. Mother Mary. Patron Saint of the Winchesters. The spectre that pushes all of them forward on this reckless self-destructive odyssey of vengeance.

She is so changed after death as to be unrecognisable even to one raised on her legend.

------------------------------------------

Sam is relentless now. He sneaks off to study whenever he gets a minute to himself between hunting, training and research. No time to sleep - he just reads. Textbook after textbook until all he sees are diagrams and his dreams are drafted in legalese. Over dinner he scrawls as many practice essays as he can for his final exams and attempts to ignore the sniping from his dad

It’s a struggle to keep his grades up as he moves from school to school across state lines and curriculums and sometimes it’s all Sam can do not to cry. He knows his dad is annoyed that he hasn’t dropped out yet. Like Dean. That he wants a high-school diploma and not just a GED.

Sam doesn’t care. The banshee appears more often to him now. She stands in his line of sight and blocks his view of his family when they hunt. She screams and screams and drowns out all of his doubts. God only knows how his eardrums remain intact.

He knows more now than he did on that first day in the library. Has been on a million hunts. With enough time and research he could probably find her bones and shut her up for good. Salt and Burn. He never does. She is a reminder of all he wants to escape. An omen his dad cannot tell him to ignore.

--------------------------------------

Sam sits on the edge of his bed with his law school acceptance letter in his hands. He’d picked it up from the post office earlier that day. Compulsively, he smoothes the creases over and over again, listening with half an ear to his family clattering around downstairs.

This is a good day. Dad is cheerful. The case had been a simple one - a poltergeist - easy to get rid off. Another suburban home rid of the monster. Dean is happy too. He’s been talking all day about the steaks he’d picked up in the bargain section of the supermarket. Now they can have a small celebration before moving out to a new town.

Sam looks down at the letter and knows that he won’t be going with them.

-----------------------------------------

The fight is world-ending. Of cataclysmic proportions. Sam’s never seen his dad so angry in his life.

He sits on the lonely greyhound bus to California, his only possessions in the bag he’s clutching to his chest. His lungs are still burning, hours after the argument and he can’t tell whether it’s anger or choked back tears or if it even matters.

But even here, alone on the bus, his clearest memory is that of blessed silence as he walked out the door. The woman standing stock still in his path.

She made no sound.

Instead. For the first and only time that he can remember.  She smiled.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Hand in the Matter

Ch7: Adventures in Interior Decorating

Tina eyed Gavin suspiciously as she leaned on the bar. Normally they would be doing this on a Friday rather than a Wednesday, but for once Gavin had plans for the weekend. So it was either move the "gays night out" as Tina called it up a bit, or not have one this week. Tina was not exactly pleased with the change of plans since she was working early the next day. Setting her beer glass down she spoke.

"So let me get this straight," she started and leaned into Gavin, not even laughing at what would normally be a joke between them. "You moved our night out up two fucking nights into the work week because you're going to spend the weekend with some guy named Richard. Helping him remodel his apartment or whatever, but you're not sleeping with him."

"Tina, my answer isn't going to have changed from the last three fucking times you asked me," Gavin replied with an exasperated sigh. "We aren't sleeping together. He's just a friend."

"So was Allen. Until he wasnt," she said sitting back like she had made some kind of point.

Gavin rolled his eyes, "Richard is different, its not like that with him. I see him a bit like I see you."

"That's a lie. You've never adjusted your schedule to help me remodel."

"Tina, you haven't remodeled anything." Gavin pointed out, "I think you've had enough for the night, let's settle the tab and call it."

Tina seemed like she was going to argue for a moment before she nodded. She stood, needing a moment to regain her footing before walking to the end of the bar to pay. Gavin followed suit.

When they were outside the bar waiting on their respective rides. Tina for her girlfriend and Gavin for his Uber.

Tina took a deep steadying breath before speaking, "just... be careful okay? I know I don't know him, but I just don't want to risk seeing you back in a place like you were after Allen."

"I know T." Gavin said straightening up off the wall, "you're just looking out for me. I respect that."

She nodded as a familiar car pulled up to the curb and she lifted a hand to wave at him, "Good night Gav."

"Yeah, you too." He returned the wave and watched her go.

She had always been that way, looking out for him and at least trying to protect him. He understood the warning. The no feelings involved arrangement with Allen had collapsed in on itself when Gavin went ahead and caught feelings, and Allen hadn't. The fight that happened after ended their friendship and left Gavin in a bad way for quite a while. Tina had been left to pick up the pieces and be damage control. Her suspicion of Richard, although misplaced in Gavin's opinion, came from a well meaning place.

The weekend crept up on Gavin, and it was Friday afternoon before he knew it. He was running around his apartment like a madman, packing all of the things he might need for a weekend at Richard's place. It would be his first time there since Richard's panic attack as well as his first time there as an invited guest. Tina would come by twice a day to check on Frankie. The cat in mention was watching him from her cat tower. He reached up to pet the mildly overweight black feline.

"I'll be back in a couple days," he said in a voice one might use for children, "be good for your aunt Tina okay?"

She leaned into his hand before he pulled away and picked up the duffle bag. He made sure he had his keys and his phone before heading down to the parking lot. This weekend was kind of a big deal for Richard as well. He'd never had anyone stay over at his apartment before, and on top of that they would be remodeling it. Trying to make it into a place that Richard could feel at home in rather than trapped. When Gavin arrived at his bike he sent Richard a text.

Gavin: Getting ready to head your way. Need me to pick anything up on my way over?

Tall Phcker from Psych: No. Not that I can think of.

Gavin: Alright, see you soon.

He strapped his bag to his bike, with it situated safely he put his helmet on and got on the bike himself. He left the complex and made his way to Richard's. He was looking forward to the weekend, hanging out with Richard was always a good time. Something that was as important to Richard as this was bound to be the same. Gavin parked as close to the building as he could. He still had to go up the stairs to get to Nines's apartment, he was not packing his bag across a fucking parking lot on top of all that.

Gavin got off the bike, took his helmet off and unclipped the duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. He sent another text before heading up.

Gavin: on my way up to you

Tall Phcker from Psych: ok. The door is unlocked.

Gavin tucked his phone away and began his treck up the stairs. It probably would have been smarter to use the elevator, but Gavin only knew how to find the apartment from the stairs. It was the fifth unit from the end on the left from this direction, and he didn't know how many from the elevator it was. Like last time, Gavin was fighting for his breath when he got to the top.

Gavin opened the door and took his shoes off, putting them on the bottom shelf of the slate grey shoe rack Richard had bought online. It was the first personal touch he'd added to the place, and the thing that had started all of this. Straightening up he smiled at Richard.

"Where do you want this?" He asked gesturing to the bag on his shoulder.

Richard looked up from where he was getting something out of the fridge and pointed to the couch. Gavin made his way to the couch and set the bag down, he stretched before squatting down and digging through it. He made a sound of victory when he came away what he was looking for, he smiled and hid the small box behind his back as he walked back toward the kitchen. On the counter were two glass bottles of old fashioned soda, the same kind that Gavin usually had at his place.

"Thanks." Gavin said accepting the bottle that was slid across the island toward him, "I got you something, a bit of a housewarming gift."

Gavin set the hastily wrapped gift on the island and slid it toward Richard. He grabbed the bottle and popped the cap off with practiced ease. Richard was careful as he unwrapped his gift, looking like he was trying to avoid tearing the wrapping paper. He got to the nondescript box and looked at it for a long moment before opening it just as carefully. He took out the white porcelain mug, turning it over in his hands until he got to the text. 'Silence is Golden' was printed in light blue cursive script. He set the mug down carefully, looking at him with one of the biggest smiles Gavin had ever seen on him.

'Thank You.' He signed, 'I Love It.'

"I'm glad," Gavin took a drink from the cool soda, finding refreshing after his trip up the stairs. "I saw it in the campus bookstore and thought you might like it."

Richard took a drink from his own bottle while Gavin picked up the trash from the counter trying to minimize the clutter. He left the mug alone, Richard could decided what he wanted to do with it.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Gavin asked heading for the livingroom figuring Richard would follow him to the couch, "online shopping, actual shopping, relaxing, or getting started on changing around the place?"

Richard sat beside him on the couch in his usual proper posture, stiff and rigid in comparison to Gavin who looked like he'd been poured onto it. Richard tapped his fingers along the bottle in his hands as he thought about it. This whole thing was a big decision for him. Gavin would give him as much time as he needed for his choice.

Eventually Richard set his bottle down and began signing, stopping then restarting several times before letting out an annoyed sigh. He picked up his phone choosing to type out his thoughts instead. Gavin's signing was slowly getting better, but he wasn't fluent and his understanding was hit and miss still.

Tall Phcker from Psych: could we stay in tonight? Relax and maybe look at things online?

Tall Phcker from Psych: I don't think I'm ready to do much else yet.

"That's perfectly fine." He turned on the TV switching it over to something they didn't have to invest much attention in, "we'll only do what you're comfortable with."

That was how they spent the afternoon, scrolling through online furniture stores. Richard made a list of what he wanted to get and colors he hoped to find them in. It was hours later when they were pulled from the moment by Gavin's empty stomach growling out its discontent.

'Food?' Richard signed with an amused shine to his eyes.

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea." Gavin said with a chuckle of his own, one hand pressed firmly over his abdomen to muffle any further noises, "you in the mood to cook or is it a take out kind of night?"

Richard answered by pulling up a deliver app on his phone. He picked an Italian place, put in his order before handing the phone off to Gavin. He looked over the menu ordering food for himself and passing the phone back to Richard so he could add something else if he wanted before placing the order.

They took a break when the food arrived, setting it up on the coffee table. It was nice and comfortable, like the evenings they sometimes spent at Gavin's place. This was a nice feeling. They stayed like that well into the night. Passing notes like little kids until it was late enough in the that Gavin felt like he was going to collapse into the coffee table from his place on the floor. He yawned so widely that his jaw cracked and spoke aloud for the first time in hours.

"So how are we doing this Nines?" He rubbed at his face to try and wake up more, considering as conversations tended to require more brain power than he currently possessed.

'You Take Couch. I Take Bed.' Came the reply before Richard began cleaning up the coffee table. Right, they still had to move that.

Gavin helped as well, throwing out the garbage while Richard packed up and put away the left over food. Despite it being Richard's livingroom rather than Gavin's, they still moved as a unit to clear the living room for the pull out bed. When that was done, Richard stepped back observing the room, this was another change for him, but from what Gavin could see he was taking it well.

They took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. When Gavin finally got to bed he pulled put his phone to check his messages. He had a few from Tina.

Pocket Police: we could be out drinking now but you have other friends apparently

Pocket Police: don't do anything we wouldn't do

Pocket Police: Frankie misses you

Gavin: we'll have the normal schedule back soon. You know I still love you

Gavin: we won't. I miss Frankie too

Gavin: good night T

Pocket Police: night Gav

He set his phone on the armrest and rolled onto his side. The excitement of the day had drained him and sleep was quick to pull him under. Gavin slept soundly and well into the morning. Waking only when he heard movement from the kitchen. Whoever was there was trying to keep quiet.

It took Gavin's slowly waking brain a long moment to recognize he wasn't in his own apartment. He sat up and stretched, after rubbing the sleep from his eyes he made his way into the kitchen. Slowly being coaxed to life by the smell of coffee. A good way to start a busy weekend, or, any weekend really.

"Good morning Richard," Gavin mumbled around a yawn. "How did you sleep?"

'Good Morning,' he signed back. 'I Slept Fine.'

They were pleasantly quiet after that. Gavin wasn't exactly much of a talker or much of a functioning human before his first cup of coffee. He wasn't grumpy, he just wasn't talkative because it was too much effort. Last night they had come up with a plan of attack for the weekend. Today was a shopping day, and tomorrow they would get things set up.

When the coffee finished brewing Richard reached up into the cabinet grabbing a mug for Gavin, and took the one Gavin had brought him yesterday for himself. Gavin was happy to see him use it. Richard poured Gavin's first, sliding it to him and then pointing to the fridge. Gavin nodded his thanks and stepped that way, setting his mig down on the counter beside it. He opened the door doing a bit of digging around before he came away with what he was looking for: Carmel flavored coffee creamer. He was being silently judged by Richard as he added what his counterpart referred to as a criminal amount of cream to his coffee before returning the bottle to the fridge. He took a long drink as he turned to face Richard.

"That's some good coffee," Gavin joked, grinning when he saw Richard wrinkle his nose in disgust.

'You Monster,' was signed back at him, though there was no heat to it.

The easy silence settled over them again as they drank their coffee. Richard was looking out the livingroom window, and Gavin was looking over what he could see of the apartment from his place by the fridge. Having the pull out bed open helped the place look more lived in. It felt more alive, the way a home should.

When they were ready to go they met in the entry way, grabbing what they would need before heading out. They would be taking Richard's car because heavy shopping and motorcycles didn't mix well. Gavin in all honesty was pretty excited. He'd never gotten to see Richard in an environment that one if not both of them had some control over. This would be a learning experience for the both of them.

Richard's car was a light grey Toyota model that Gavin didn't recognize. The inside, as he expected, was spotless. Richard played music from his phone as they drive toward the shopping district. Richard had a system in place, specific stores he wanted to look at. Gavin was coming along to translate as needed and for moral support. Even though he was more or less just along for the ride, he was still looking forward to it. They arrived at the first store on the list and Richard found a place to park turning off the car.

'Ready?' Richard signed at him.

"Yeah," Gavin unbuckled and got out of the car, "are you?"

Richard nodded and got out as well. They walked into the store, it had a relatively open floor plan. One half was furniture and the other half was trinkets and decorations meant for livening up they came to call home. Richard wandered through the store to satisfy his curiosity. He picked things out as he went, some from the list, some not. Gavin grabbed a few things as well, for his place and Richard's. Every stop they made went in similar fashion, Richard roaming for curiosities sake and picking things up as he went. There was one more place they wanted to stop at, to see if it had the specific set of shelves that had been alluding them all day. Richard had picked out two similar ones for the office, but wanted this specific one for his room. They had it bookmarked online in case they couldn't find it while they were out.

The building was massive. Gavin would be surprised if they didn't have what Richard was after. They wandered around, not quite aimlessly, but it didn't seem like they would find what they were after here either unfortunately. Gavin was about to voice as much and suggest they call it a day, when someone spoke up from the other side of Richard. It scared them both, though Gavin was the only one to jump.

"Can I help you and your..." the sales clerk paused, searching for her words as she looked between Gavin and Richard, "partner find anything specific?"

Richard froze for a long while, seeming like he was trying to compose himself. Genuinely confused. He picked his hands up to sign, restarting a number of times before giving up altogether and shooting Gavin a desperate pleading look.

"Oh, uh. No. We're alright thanks." Gavin stumbled over his words in his flustered rush to get them out. It seemed to do the trick though since the sales clerk retreated and they were once again left on their own.

They just stared at each other for a long while. Gavin cracked first, smiling and then breaking into laughter when the awkwardness passed leaving only amused embarrassment in its wake. Richard was smiling, amusement shining in his eyes. What a fucking day.

"Let's head back." Gavin suggested when he had enough control over his air intake to talk again, "we can pick up some food on the way back. Then order the shelves when we get back to your place."

Despite the laugh they'd had about it earlier, Gavin found himself paying more attention to his proximity to Richard the rest of the day. They had a good laugh about it again over dinner, Richard delighting in it now that the initial awkwardness had passed. Gavin did as well, it was funny looking back. That was how the evening went. The two of them talking and having a good time until they were too tired to keep up right.

'Okay,' Richard signed as he stood. 'Bed Time.'

They had been smart enough to clean uo their dinner mess beforehand this time. After Gavin finished his nightly routine he laid down and pulled out his phone to check in with Tina.

Gavin: you'll never guess what happened today!

Pocket Police: something funny i take it

Gavin: Richard and I got mistaken for a couple today

Pocket Police: how did that go

Gavin: we've been having a good laugh about it

Gavin: just thought I'd let you know

Gavin: night T

Pocket Police: sleep well

Once again Gavin woke up to Richard in the kitchen and roused with less confusion than the day before. He stretched and made his way to the kitchen, following the smell off coffee. The same mugs as yesterday were out on the counter, clean and ready to be used.

"Morning." Gavin mumbled, just this side of coherent as he leaned against the counter, "today's the day. Are you excited?"

'Morning,' Richard parroted with a smile. Ever the fucking morning person. He nodded in answer to Gavin's question knowing that this would be the extent of the conversation until he got coffee into his system.

They didn't have as solid of a plan of attack for today, no lists to follow, just the general goal of getting the place into a state Richard was comfortable living in. Gavin's first order of business after he'd gotten coffee into his system was to clean up the livingroom since it had been his home the past couple of days. After that he would go wherever Richard needed him.

The coffee finished and like yesterday Richard poured both mugs then slid Gavin's toward him. Gavin added cream to it and then took a drink letting out a content hum. Richard let out an amused sound and rolled his eyes lifting his mug in a mock toast.

"Look. One of us can't function before eleven in the morning." Gavin complained between drinks of coffee, "its not my fault you can't wake up at a normal time."

'Waking Up Afternoon Not Normal.' Richard signed, and then had the nerve to fucking wink. God damn morning person.

"Richard. Its the weekend." Gavin remarked, gesturing with his free hand, "its practically against the law to wake up early on the weekend."

'Yet Here You Are,' he signed like he was making a point. 'Awake Early Sunday Morning.'

"Okay, no need to be so damn smug," Gavin said with a tired laugh, "you've made your point."

'Have I?' He signed with a faint smile along with a raised eyebrow.

Gavin flipped him off for lack of a better argument. Richard rolled his eyes again, but they were alight with amusement, and Gavin had a smile of his own to match. After he finished his coffee he cleaned his cup out and set it on the dish mat to dry.

"Alright, I'm going to start by cleaning up my shit from the livingroom," Gavin gestured in the direction of the couch. "Then where do you want me?"

'My Room.' Richard responded, finishing his own coffee and going through the same motions as Gavin.

Gavin made his way to the livingroom, packing up his mess and putting his things back into his duffle bag. Next he took the sheets and blanket off the pull out and stepped into the bathroom with the bundle of fabric. He set it down and opened the washing machine, he untangled the mass of blankets and loaded them into the machine. With that done he went back out to the livingroom and set about putting away the pull out bed. Doing it by himself wasn't a pleasant experience, but Richard was busy and Gavin didn't want to bother him. With the bed finally tucked away and the couch cushions back in place, the last thing that needed to be replaced was the coffee table which he handled with ease.

Having finished in the livingroom he turned and headed down the hall, stopping in the bathroom to check the laundry he had set to run. Making his way to Richard's he knocked on the doorframe before stepping inside.

"What," Gavin started from a few feet into the room, "are you doing?"

Gavin felt that it was an appropriate question since he'd come in to find one of Richard's closet doors halfway disconnected from the frame with said man sitting on the floor presumably trying to finish the job. Richard looked over his shoulder at Gavin and seemed quite proud of himself. He freed a hand from whatever he was doing to the bottom of the door and gestured to the whole of it like that somehow explained everything.

"Okay," Gavin continued, acting as though he understood this impromptu round of charades, "and you're taking the door off its hinges because why exactly?"

Richard let out a sigh that was just this side of annoyed. He moved so that he was facing Gavin, 'I Do Not Like Noise They Make. Help Me.' He emphasized the last bit by pointing at Gavin and then to the remaining door.

"You have a plan of what you're gonna do once they're off?" Gavin asked moving to the other door, he leaned against it and looked at his companion.

'No,' he paused to consider something, 'Do Not Want Them Here.'

"We'll figure it out I guess," he straightened up, "you got anything to make this easier or are we just gonna brute force it."

Richard reached back behind himself and came away with a screwdriver that he held out to Gavin. He took it with a nod of thanks, and turned to get to get to work assuming Richard was doing the same. He'd figured they'd get to this eventually, but if he had known they'd be doing this today he would have asked Tina if he could borrow her truck instead of bringing his bike over. But it was what it was, he could always ask her later.

The doors took a bit of time to get off the frame, and with no way to remove them from the apartment they settled for putting them away in the bathroom closet for the time being. While he was in there Gavin switched the laundry over. The shelves they had ordered wouldn't arrive for another week or so but they got everything else for Richard's room set up.

The room came away with a color palette of bright light blue and a dark matte grey. Gavin liked how it came out, it suited Nines pretty well in his opinion. They moved on to the office next, adding the shelf sets that Richard had picked out. One became designated for books and paperwork, and the other for office supplies and a couple of decorative trinkets. One of those being a porcelain statue of Lucky Cat that Gavin had picked out.

He let Richard do the bathroom himself. The livingroom came next and was by far the most fun. They'd bought some decorative pillows for the couch but apparently decided that a pillow fight would make better use of them. Which was how Gavin found himself backed against the wall with Richard throwing pillows at him with a surprising amount of strength.

"Okay! Okay!" Gavin called in surrender between bouts of laughter, "I'm sorry for smacking you with that pillow, even if you deserved it."

Richard finally relented, accepting Gavin's albeit shitty apology. Gavin began picking up the pillows on the floor around him placing them on the couch. Adding the one he had bought that had "fuck off" stitched into it in cursive purple thread to a spot where it could easily be seen as a finishing touch.

"There, its perfect." Gavin said looking over at Richard with a satisfied smile, "home sweet home."

Richard was wearing his equivalent of Gavin's smile, just smaller but no less genuine, 'Home Sweet Home.'

[nothinbutblueskieshere]

Panic

TW: Past abuse

Grayson and you are at the beach when you run into your ex-boyfriend, who is the cause of all of your past trauma.

Grayson stands in the doorway of your shared bathroom watching lovingly as you dance to Harry Styles and finish getting ready for the day. You, completely oblivious to your gorgeous boyfriend standing five feet away, sing into the end of your hairbrush, acting as though it were a microphone. Grayson loves watching you do some of the random things you do when you think no one is watching, such as this. Most of these little things he notices you do are little dances when you are doing just about anything, especially when you are cooking or brushing your teeth. 

You finally notice your boyfriend standing there when you turn to put your things back on the shelf next to you. “Hello, beautiful”, he says, reaching for you to come close to him. His hands take your waist in them and pull you into his chest. You reach your arms around his neck and kiss him gently. “I was just coming to ask you if you wanted to come with E, Kristina, and I to the beach for a couple of hours.” 

“I would love to! Just let me get dressed real quick and I’ll be ready.” He gives you another brief kiss before releasing you from his hold, allowing you to go and change out of your sweatpants and into something more suitable for the beach. You end up deciding to wear a pair of your flowy shorts and a black tank top over one of your bikinis, wanting to wear something simple and easy to dry if Gray decides to pull a prank like he usually does. 

You walk into the living room to see Ethan and Kristina sitting on the couch, leaning into each other and Gray leaning against the wall, waiting for you. A wide smile forms on his face as he looks up to see you approaching. He looks delicious in his swim trunks and black t-shirt. You snuggle into his side and breath in deep, taking in the moment.

“Ready to go?” Ethan asks, taking Kristina’s hand in his, pulling her up from her spot on the couch. She lets go of his hand quickly and runs over to you, pulling you in for a warm embrace.

“Good morning, girly!” Ever since she has arrived, Ethan has been happier than you’ve ever seen him. She is a light and not only are you super grateful that Ethan has her, but that you now have a new friend who you get to live with and pick on the twins with. 

The two of you continue to chat about how weird it is to live in a new place, considering you had just moved to California with Grayson only a few months before she came to be with Ethan. That is one thing the two of you bonded over very quickly since she has been here. It has also been nice for you to have another girl in the house, seeing as the majority of the people who come over are guys and you have pretty bad social anxiety around new people, which makes it harder to make new friends. Gray and E follow the two of you and meet you at the car, where you head to the beach from there.

--

At the beach, you and Kristina go back and forth between laying in the sun, swimming in the ocean, and trying to catch the football that Grayson and Ethan have been throwing around for the last thirty minutes, in an attempt to steal it and run. You were successful only a few times, seeing as neither Ethan or Grayson would let you take it easily. 

“Pass it over here!” You yell to Ethan, clapping your hands together in an attempt to gain his attention and catch the ball. He merely chuckles at your excitement and throws the ball in your direction. As you caught it, though, a large force runs into your side and plows you into the sand. You would have been more concerned if it weren’t for the loud roar of Grayson’s laugh above you. “Get off of me, you dick!” You laugh as you playfully shove him away from you. 

“But I loooveee you, babyyy.” His words are long and drawn out while he continues to hold you close to him and sprinkle little kisses all over your face. 

“I love you, too, but get your big, sweaty butt off of me.” Grayson laughs loudly and shakes his sandy hair onto you before lifting himself off of you and pulling you up with him. He pulls you into his arms sweetly and kisses you passionately. “Well, damn,” you say, out of breath as he pulls away, “that’s my favorite kind of apology. I am gonna run to the bathroom. You almost knocked the pee right out of me.” 

Grayson kisses you one more time before letting you out of his arms, allowing you to head towards the bathroom, not without a smack on the ass first, though. On your way to the bathroom, you get knocked to the ground, a soccer ball hitting you square in the head. Laughing it off, you pick up the ball and look around, in search of where the ball came from. Suddenly, and without warning, panic starts to rise and your body begins to shake in fear, memories flooding back from the man who is walking toward you.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?”  He said, pushing you back toward the corner of the room, where you had previously been hiding yourself from him. “You actually think it’s okay to go be a whore and wear that out when you have a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head back and forth, quickly, scared of the reaction you will receive if you say nothing at all. “Matt, please, I didn’t do anything. I was with (Y/F/N) and all we did was drive around and get smoothies. I promise, Matt. I love you. I would never do that to you.” 

Thinking he believed you, you stepped closer to him, reaching out to grab his hand. Without warning, his fist collides with your right eye, sending you right to the ground, quivering away from him in fear. “(Y/N), baby. You know I love you and I would never want to hurt you, but you have to learn how to act properly.”

Shuddering at one of the many memories between you and your ex-boyfriend, a ton of thoughts run through your head. ‘Why is he in California?’ ‘Did he move here?’ ‘Is he going to recognize me?’ After you told your parents the dangers you were in in your relationship, they had allowed you to move back in with them, wanting you to be safe from any harm that Matt wanted to come your way. You had moved in with them in California, leaving college and Ohio behind -- leaving your abusive ex behind. About ten months after that - and a lot of really helpful counseling - you had met Grayson, who showed you what it really meant to love someone. He had worked so hard to help you learn to trust him, move forward, and promised to love you with kindness, and to never raise a hand at you. 

“Hey! I’m sorry that our ball hit you!” As he gets closer, you begin to think of all the ways you have changed your appearance since you broke up with him. You had stopped dying your hair and it was back to its natural light brown color, you had lost about forty-five pounds, stopped biting your nails, and started presenting yourself in a much better manner than before. You were hoping that would be enough to protect you. “Wait. (Y/N)? Oh my goodness, how are you? You look great! How long have you been here? I wasn’t able to keep track of you after you left Ohio.” 

Although his tone is friendly, his eyes are not. He’s angry. He’s clearly still good at hiding his true colors, though, because his friend who is next to him is not aware at all that he is putting up this facade. “Uh, yeah. I’m good. I am here with my boyfriend and friends.” He nods his head, trying to come up with feelings about the situation. 

“Aw, I am so glad to hear that. Hey, man, can you give us a minute? We grew up together.” He asked his friend, who nods and says a quick goodbye. As soon as he leaves, Matt’s smile disappears, facing you with a look you are all too familiar with. “I’m not surprised, I have to admit. You, here, wearing a bikini like that, with a boyfriend. You always have been such a slut.” 

You move to turn away from him, figuring out if you are closer to the bathroom or closer to Grayson. After determining you were closer to Gray, that is where you decide to head. Before you can, though, Matt grabs onto your wrist with a grip that you have not felt in years. “Let. Me. Go.” You grit out. You never would have talked to him like that before, but now you were angry. 

“What’s the matter, (Y/N)? I figured if you’re walking around like this now you definitely want me, too.” 

Angry tears are streaming down your face, trying to get out of his grip. Trying to assess the situation, you know that you would lose the physical fight every single time. He has at least 150 pounds on you. “(Y/N)! We thought you fell in! You’ve been gone for a while,” Kristina says as she approaches you and Matt with caution. “Are you okay?” She asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I am fine. Can you tell Gray I’ll be back in just a minute, I am just chatting with my friend from high school, Matt.” You make sure to tell her his name, knowing that Grayson will recognize the name as soon as he hears it. She rushes back over to the boys, aware that something is wrong with the situation. 

“She’s cute. Do you think she’d want my number?” Matt asks, watching her walk away.

“Ew. Are you actually asking me if my friend wants to fuck you when you are literally trying to get me to sleep with you again? Why would I expose the sweetest girl alive to the monster that you are?” 

The anger in his eyes is replaced by rage as he raises his hand and, like many times before, connects his fist with my right eye. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You hear Grayson yell as he shoves Matt away from you. You curl into a ball after you scoot away from them. Your back hits a person, which causes you to flinch and look up to see Kristina wrap her arms around you, letting you cry. You look to see Ethan trying to break up the fight that is going on between Grayson and Matt. “If I ever see you again- If I ever hear that you hurt (Y/N) again, I promise you will not like the outcome.” Matt moves away from Grayson quickly, too much of a coward to own up to his actions, just as he always had been. 

“Gray,” E says, trying to calm down your shaking boyfriend, “go be with her. She needs you to be with her, not focusing on him.” 

Grayson nods, rushing to you, replacing Kristina’s embrace with his. “It’s okay, baby. He’s gone. I won’t let him touch you again.” He doesn’t let you go for a while. Ethan and Kristina pack up your stuff as Grayson sits you down on his lap in the car, allowing you to cry, shake, and grieve for all the nightmares to come from this. Grayson is clearly heartbroken that he didn’t notice in time, wishing that he could do something to take away the pain that you feel. 

He does what he can for the rest of the day. He puts ice on your eye and wrist, trying to at least alleviate the physical pain you are feeling, calls your mom to let her know what happened, and holds you close to him, even after you fall asleep, trying to do what he can, which is bring you comfort with him, your best friend and rock. “I love you, (Y/N),” he whispers as you drift into unconsciousness, knowing that at least when you wake up, he’ll be there.

[sheerfreesia007]

Scaredy Cats

Title: Scaredy Cats

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 1,974

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing (I checked it but I couldn’t find any but I’m exhausted right now so I’m just gonna put this here as a catch all. Y’all should know by now that I curse.)

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Teen Wolf Tag List: @linkpk88​, @pure-ghost​, @awkwardnesshabitat​

Author Notes: This was super cute to write and I had originally planned it going a different way but alas, my mind has been uncooperative lately so it went a totally different way. But I love it! I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.

Gif Credit: Google

It was finally Halloween and you were excited for the Halloween party that Lydia was throwing for the pack. It was Friday night and you were excited to let loose with your friends. Beacon Hills had been relatively safe for the month of October and the pack had been able to relax a little bit, so of course Lydia had decided that a party was in store.

         You had volunteered to drive her up to the lake house ahead of everyone else to be able to help her set up for the party. On the way there the two of you had stopped at a store to pick up even more Halloween decorations than what she had at the lake house. That’s where the two of you were now roaming the aisles of the holiday section of the store as you peruse their selection of decorations.

         “So I’m thinking maybe these little ghost lights to hang in the front windows.” Lydia said as she picked up two boxes of ghost lights and set them in the cart that you were pushing around.

         “Oooohhh, I’ll get this and we can make that bubbling witches brew drink for the pack.” you said excitedly as you held up a black plastic cauldron meant to hold punch.

         “That’s a great idea!” Lydia said as she moved to walk next to you as the two of you continued to shop. “You think they’d all want to do party games or just hang out?” she asked curiously.

         “I think Isaac said that they were planning on bringing horror movies for us all to watch.” you said with a grimace on your face. Lydia looked over at you with a sympathetic look. You shrugged before continuing. “They did a vote and the majority was for the horror movies.” 

         “Well I voted no.” she said as she shook her head and you grinned over at her before leaning into her side.

         “I know you, me and Stiles voted no.” you said softly. “Though I’m surprised you voted no, you normally don’t have an issue with the horror movies.” you said as you looked over at her, her only response being a shrug of her shoulders. The two of you continued walking down the aisle and browsing whatever else decoration you could pick up for the lake house.

         “You know maybe we could use this to your advantage.” she said slyly as she held up a creepy old looking lantern before placing it back on the shelf. You tilted your head curiously as you placed a package of fake spider webs in the cart.

         “What do you mean?” you asked, distracted as you shopped. You didn’t see Lydia look over and smile widely at you.

         “I mean with your little crush.” she teased and you choked on air before turning around to glare at her. That’s why she voted no, she didn’t want to single you and Stiles out.

         “You said you wouldn’t talk about it.” you hissed quietly as your eyes darted around the aisle. Thankfully only the two of you were there.

         “I said I wouldn’t talk about it around any of the pack.” Lydia reminded you as she flung her arms out from her body to indicate there were no pack members around. You sighed softly and nodded at her to continue. “You should sit next to Stiles and whenever a scary part comes on you can inch closer and closer to him.” You laughed softly at her advice and shook your head.

         “Lyds, he doesn’t see me that way and he’d probably be just as scared as me during the movie. I’d have to protect him.” you said shaking your head. Lydia looked contemplative for a minute before nodding her head.

         “You’re right you’d be the knight in shining armor and he’d be the damsel.” she said giggling brightly. “That’d be a sight to see.” You both laughed happily imaging Stiles as a princess and you as a knight while you checked out at the register.

           It was hours later when you and Lydia were just finishing up setting out the snacks for the halloween party. The pack was due to arrive soon and the two of you had managed to get up all the decorations that you bought to make the room look festive. You were standing in the large kitchen filling the cauldron with the smoky punch you had made when you heard the rest of the pack arrive. Looking up you smiled brightly when Kira squealed and rushed over to you giving you a warm tight hug. Malia was next as she sauntered into the room with a slight scowl on her face.

         “I don’t like halloween.” she said testily and you smiled as you wrapped your arms around her.

         “Well you’ll enjoy the horror movies at least. It’s all blood and gore and scary things.” you told her as you pulled away and saw her grin.

         “Yeah Isaac said that he picked out the really scary ones for us to watch.” she said happily. You laughed along with Kira as you shook your head. Your eyes darted over to the doorway when you heard a commotion and saw Stiles and Scott bringing in bags filled with the take out that you had all decided to order. 

         Scott sent you a grin and a nod while Stiles walked over to wrap you in a warm hug. You felt your body begin to melt against him as you returned the hug. It was always like this with Stiles, so easy and familiar. And he was always giving out hugs. You had once told Lydia that hugs from Stiles were the best because it seemed as if his whole body curved around you keeping you in a warm protective little bubble.

         “Wanna be my movie buddy tonight?” he asked softly into your ear making you shiver. You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, so that we can get through this together. You know everyone else is alright with the scary movies.” He tried to explain as you kept looking at him. A soft smile then fell onto your lips.

         “What about Lydia?” you asked him and he looked down at you confused.

         “What about her?” he asked in his confusion.

         “She voted no on the movies too. Why don’t you be her movie buddy?” you asked a little unsure of yourself. You wanted to be his movie buddy but he had had a crush on Lydia for years and you didn’t want to be his second choice if Lydia had already told him no.

         “Lydia only voted no because she didn’t want to go with the rest of the pack. You know she doesn't’ have a problem with scary movies.” he answered easily. “Besides she’d pick on me if I got scared next to her. You don’t make fun of me, at least not too much.” You laughed brightly at his words and smirked over at him.

         “I can’t help it when you make it too easy.” you teased him and he grinned down at you before nudging your hip with his.

         “Yeah well, what do you say? Suffer through the movies together with me?” he asked softly. You grinned up at him and nodded your head.

         “I’d be delighted to.” you answered. Neither one of you noticed the six pairs of eyes watching you both with a knowing look in them.

           You couldn’t see anything but you could hear all of it. All of the screaming and the squelching noises of death. The body that was tightly wrapped around you in fear kept jerking whenever a new sound would resonate from the speakers of the tv.

         “Don’t look, it sounds horrible.” Stiles muttered into your ear as he tugged you tighter against him while he buried his face in your neck and hair. The two of you had commandeered the love seat in the living room as your own stating that no one would want to sit with the two scaredy cats of the group anyway since there’d be a lot of flying limbs. Shifting against him you curled further into his chest as his longer legs lay on either side of you on the sofa. Stiles had his back to the armrest of the sofa and had easily placed you in between his open legs when he had sat down. You had at first been shocked and embarrassed but when Lydia, Kira and Malia had each sent you a knowing look you had known your face was heated for a completely different reason. Thankfully none of the boys had looked at you or you’d probably be even more embarrassed.

         “Geeze Stiles why don’t you let the poor girl breathe.” Liam said teasingly and you peeked over Stiles’ arm that was wrapped tightly around you. He was grinning over at the two of you from his spot on the floor next to Malia. 

         “Yeah it looks like you’re trying to smother her.” Malia said with a wink shot your way and you huffed softly at her. You felt Stiles’ arms loosen around you and you got a full look at the tv screen in front of you. Blood, gore and death was depicted as the killer came at one of the victims with a large blade.

         “Nope, nope, nope.” you said quickly and completely turned into Stiles’ body so that your face was now pressed into his neck so you didn’t have to watch the movie. Stiles chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around you again.

         “You okay?” he asked softly into your ear as you got situated comfortably against him.

         “Don’t listen to the newbs on the floor.” you said adamantly and felt Stiles’ chuckle vibrate against you.

         “Noted.” he responded and you easily fell into a lulled state of content as the movie continued playing.

           You slowly felt yourself coming up from your deep sleep when you heard whispered hurried voices around you.

         “You think we should wake them?” came a soft voice that you knew was Kira.

         “They look so cute together. You’d think he’d finally make a move on her.” Lydia said softly and you heard the shutter click of a photo being taken.

         “He doesn’t get it that she’s into him too.” Scott responded. “He’s cautious, doesn’t want to get his heart broken.”

         “Well then maybe I’ll make a move, I think she’s cute.” Liam said brightly and suddenly you felt Stiles move from underneath you. You had obviously fallen asleep on the boy and he hadn’t moved you an inch, probably too comfortable himself as body heat the two of you had created was quickly lulling you back into a sleepy daze.

         “You even try to and I’ll bury you in wolfbane where no one will find you.” Stiles threatened sleepily and you shifted against him when you heard the raspiness of his voice. The pack all waited as you pretended to fall back asleep on him before the pack laughed softly at his words.

         “You wanna head up to bed or stay here with her?” Scott asked Stiles softly.

         “Stay here. If she wakes up I’ll help her up to bed.” Stiles responded and you felt your heart begin to pick up in your chest. You heard the movements of the pack as they all left to head up to bed and you shifted against Stiles again. “How much of that did you hear?” he asked softly and you grinned as you nuzzled against his neck feeling him shiver against you.

         “Make a move on me Stilinski.” you whispered in his ear and heard his sharp intake of breath. When you pulled away to blink dreamily up him he cupped your face and pulled you into a soft sweet kiss.

         “Gladly.” he responded after pulling away.

[windup-dragoon]

【Ｇｏｄｄｅｓｓ】

Word Count: 5033

Hien x Kiri 

[[ Water Goddess AU ]] 

Waterlilies 

Drifting. Silence. Shadows. 

She hates it here. It feels empty yet her stomach churns and her heart aches. 

Helpless. Lost. Alone. 

She yearns for the days of color. The sounds of daily life to fill her ears. A sweet song she wasn’t aware existed ‘til now. 

This world, so bleak and abysmal. It would swallow her one day but she prays that it will not be so soon. She begs the powers that be to listen to her silent plea. To rescue her from the darkness that stretches so eagerly towards her. Reaching, always searching. 

And then there is light. Strings that glitter and ripple; a web of fractured light and curtains falling across her face in swaths of warmth and life. She recognizes the patterns and is filled with relief. 

Drifting. Silence. Light. Hope. 

She exists beneath the waves, the womb of all life. It is here that she feels safe and yet her heart yearns for more. The ocean is vast and full of life... yet she is alone. Beneath the tides, between worlds of light and darkness, life and death... she mourns her loss. 

It was beginning to feel as if the young prince may never see his goddess again. Hours gave way to full night and day rotations, so many that he dare not ask again for a count or suffer more ache in his chest than he could bear. Soroban, the Kojin who haunted the sunken library was his only form of company and even then the grand old tortoise mused at how impatient men could be. And while he did make an effort to speak with Leviathan, the great beast only spoke in a melody he was unable to comprehend and the occasional unsatisfied hiss. 

“It is bewildering,” Remarked the prince one afternoon (or perhaps morning?) while thumbing through pages of century old books, taking pause to admire drawings or squinting at passages his eyes could not make heads nor tails of. “Why would a goddess have need for such a collection?” 

Soroban, nose buried in a book of his own choosing, chuckled. “Collection?” 

“Aye,” He nods in affirmation, his jaw set while re-shelving the old leather bound tome where he had found it. “While most, or at least a grand majority, belong to this forgotten civilization; written in a language I do not recognize, there are still few that I can discern. Children’s books of fairy tales and ship logs. Are these all belongings she has plundered?” 

Upon his first evening spent in the library, when Soroban ushered him to a bedroom to rest, he had made his first of many discoveries about the sea goddess. The bedroom, perhaps once a study room for scholars to read in peace, had been decorated with tattered but fine silk curtains; the bedding salvaged pelts most certainly crafted from creatures on land and not of the sea. Even the garments he was gifted to replace his water logged garb seemed out of place. A collection of lost treasure. 

Night after night he returned to rest among the familiarity of land culture, comforted by the portraits of long since gone people, staring up at a ceiling which had been decorated with jewels that mimicked a night sky when the candles burned low. And when he roused from slumber, the anxious feeling in his stomach waking him with concern for the goddess, he found ways to distract himself, namely picking through a personal shelf of assorted books and regarding their contents. 

He had half expected the written text to be in a language he did not know, as all the other tomes that filled the library, but to his surprise, the prince was greeted with characters he could recognize at a mere glance! Small books, the leather soft from usage, were often ship logs or other such documents. Occasionally he stumbled across books with only beautiful ink drawings on each gilded page. All spanning from depictions of a ships mechanism to more fanciful things like pixies dancing, painted in the most vivid colors he had ever seen. 

But only one book in particular caught his attention. After discovering it, tucked away beneath the bedding he had slept upon, he could only laugh. A book on how to dance. He found it humorous that it had taken several nights and several days to realize just who the bedroom belonged to. 

“As a prince, ya’ have’ta attend parties, yea?” She had inquired one evening after swearing an oath to him. He remembered it so well, the night sky caught in her eyes as the ship cut silently through the still tide. 

The question had taken him by surprise but he answered with a grin. “Aye. Lavish parties with horribly uncomfortable attires and even worse company. It’s all formality and severely unappealing. Why do you ask?” 

“Parties are suppose’ta be fun. Ya’ must be doin’ it wrong.” The goddess laughed but not her typical bark of laughter. This was soft, amused and interested. 

Hien leaned further on the banister and tilted his head in hopes of catching a glimpse of her smile. “Oh? And what part do you believe should be fun? Sure, the wine and food are not always bad but beyond that, I am afraid I do not see what fun there is to be had.” 

It was then that she turned to him, stars aglow in her eyes and moonlight tangled in her hair. All at once he had forgotten that the woman standing before him was a Goddess; she almost seemed childlike as she graced him with a smile. “What ‘bout dancin’? And the music!” 

If only he had been wiser, he thought now with a chuckle. He might have noticed sooner her deep seeded curiosity for the world outside her own. 

Soroban, setting aside his book at long last, lifted darkened eyes to the young prince. Beside him sat a heap of untouched books, taken from various nooks and levels of the library; Hien had witnessed it himself as Soroban climbed creaky wooden ladders to pluck books at random from their shelves and bring them here to add to his growing collection. It was from this very pile that the Kojin now sifted through. 

Hien curiously turned to watch, abandoning whatever spine of a tome he had been trying to pronounce for the last couple minutes. A soft hum and a nod later Soroban offers the prince a plain looking book. The cover had been lost or removed, now bound only with corded leather, the pages soft from wear. 

“I pray I can read this,” Hien mused with a chuckle as he graciously accepted the book. It was small in size and only a couple dozen pages long. 

“Perhaps if you try hard enough?” Soroban returned with a laugh of his own. Hien couldn’t help but to feel this was a ruse to keep the prince busy so the Kojin could continue his studies in peace. “Take a candle with you, there’s an alcove on the first floor with another book for you to reference there.” 

The prince smiled and thanked Soroban with a bow before doing as he was directed. He was most certainly being gotten rid of. 

For all the days spent wandering the library with Soroban, Hien could still only scarcely manage the vast layout of the building. Several floors high it rose, a literal tower on the ocean floor. Each tier circled around the entrance, overlooking the fountain and the glittering jeweled motifs of Leviathan. Every floor had its own small pocket chambers; some filled with long since withered plants, perhaps a garden for scholars to read within? Others, Hien had discovered out of pure curiosity, had been repurposed for various reasons; more hidden treasures like scavenged ballgowns and small ornate chests filled with romantic jewelry for high class citizens; another a storage for spices plundered from trading ships. But none had been the alcove Soroban made mention of. But then again... 

Hien leaned on the marble banister, unafraid of the dust that now caked the front pocket of his borrowed clothing; he was still three floors too high. His legs ached from trudging down staircase after staircase, in some cases having to shimmy across broken ledges where wooden stairs had rotted away from the moisture. Giving himself a moment of peace, the prince looked once more to the foyer of the library, sunken as it was. 

He often found himself staring at the fountain from which ever floor he currently resided on. Water still babbled from the statues vase, casting ripples across the water at her feet. No matter how he stared, no matter the angle or the distance between the fountain and himself, he still had yet to see the goddess sleeping beneath the surface, blanketed in lily pads and an array of colorful blossoming lilies. Some days he would count the hours sitting at the ledge, humming songs to comfort himself and the slumbering goddess. But his only audience, who did enjoy listening, was Leviathan. 

Even now, Hien glancing from the fountain to observe the snake like beast, Leviathan rested its massive head upon the broken stonework of the library floor. An eel peering out of its cavern. Beast or no, the prince couldn’t help but notice the almost melancholy air that it held as it stared unflinchingly at the fountain. 

“Your loyalty to her is admirable, my friend.” 

He could admit he felt the same. While Soroban was hopeful that she would awaken at any time, his own patience was wearing thin. He wanted to see her again. To hear her. Even if she was making demands of him or rolling with laughter; anything to fill this deafening silence. 

His heart ached in his chest, hollow and cold at rising thoughts of what might yet come. She may never wake. And if that were to happen, what next? Would the crowned prince of Garlemald be announced as victorious? Or his female companion? Ah, the world has he knew it would be in trouble if Garlemald had some how possessed her powers over the sea. 

Ice shot through his veins. His country, his people, without their prince, what would become of them? Trapped in this library beneath the sea until his dying hours; forsaking the very thing he sought to protect with the blessing of the goddess. His throat tightened, mouth dry. So much to worry about, yet here he was, following orders from a tortoise. 

“...A good read should clear my head....” 

- - - 

Once upon a time, there was a city on the cliffs by the sea. The people of this city, so fond of the sea, swore loyalty to the tide mother; she who controlled the oceans with a sigh. To the goddess they prayed for safe voyages, for loved ones to return home safely, and for a bountiful catch that would sustain throughout their days. Together the goddess and her people lived in harmony. 

But one day a man arrived to the small town. He spoke of inventions and curious things! Metal shaped by fire! Ships that sailed among the clouds and birds! The town folk were enchanted by such curiosities. While they still cherished their goddess, the man began to spill poison in their ears. 

‘What of this unseen goddess? Has none seen her? Do any commune with her? If she exists, would she not want to smile upon her loyal followers?’ 

It took time and careful wording, but the poison the man brought with him began to spread. 

‘You pray that ships return safely, yet not all come home! Your goddess is no more than a fickle witch toying with you!’ 

In time her statues were torn down and cast into the sea. Saddened by her peoples distrust, the goddess wept. A full year passed with naught but storms and angry currents, true to the goddess’ pain. 

The poisonous man angry at the goddess for slowing his products arriving to town with her tantrum, spoke up once more. 

‘This is no more than curse upon your city. How could a loving goddess hurt you all so?’ 

The towns folk murmured, once again shunning their goddess. How could she have forsaken them? 

Angry, the goddess did as the poisonous snake suggested. With her powers she gave the town a curse. Second born daughters would be born in her image, as she was the second goddess given form. The city would look upon their daughters and see her in them. 

She would not be forgotten. 

- - - 

Water arched around her as she broke the surface, shimmering diamonds falling against torchlight. She parted her lips, sucking in stale but familiar air, filling her senses with the scent of the library. It was as if returning home at long last, warmth filling her chest to near bursting. Beads of water caught in her eyelashes, cascading down the crest of her cheekbones. Eyes of scarlet and sapphire opened at long last, greeted by a rainbow of lilies. 

She was alive. 

A delighted sound echoed around her in the cavernous library entrance. The sound mimicked that of whales singing in the depths, low pitched to high in a single breath. It was a melody she would recognize anywhere and had her eyes shooting up from the fountain’s water in a heartbeat. 

“Levi, did’ja miss me?” She called in return while leaning on the lip of the stonework fountain. Yalms separated them, but it was hard to miss the tilt in Leviathan’s head or the glossy admiration that filled his massive scarlet eyes. Another song graced the foyer, echoing softly off the stone walls and rising all the way to the top tier of the library. Still singing, Leviathan sunk beneath the water and out of sight of the goddess, no doubt eager to stretch now that his master was sorted out. 

She gave a lazy wave goodbye, regardless of the fact that Levi had already departed, then laid her cheek to the cold stone that returned her life. 

“Missed you too, ya’ overgrown noodle.” 

- - - 

“Soroban? Where in the hells are ya’?” Her voice filled the corridors as she barked the Kojin’s name again and again. It had been a trial in of itself to rise from her watery bed, her body aching in places that shouldn’t even exist. And then there was the added weight that slowed her down. 

It came as a distinct slapping of something wet against stone. Kiri, Goddess of the Ocean, had emerged from her pool reborn. With her ruined and bloody attire abandoned at the fountain she strode forth, her goddess form nearly luminescent in the unlit spots of the library.  Her flesh shimmered with an opalescence unlike any time before, a faint shimmering of scales that traced her curved outline. If one did not look closely, it could easily have been mistaken for powder worn by prosperous women looking to catch eyes. Her hair tumbled down beyond her shoulders, spilling to the floor in a curtain of moonlight silver. Like a slug she left behind a trail of water, not only still pouring off from such long locks, but from a tail too long and heavy for her to hold up off the floor while out of water. 

“Soroban???” She called again, a slight growl rising in her tone. 

Many questions had begun to bubble in her mind now that she was awake and conscious enough to consider them. How many days had passed? Had anything else happened while she was away? And what of the prince? Or those goons who hunted her like prey? But oh... the thought of a certain young man had caused her questions to halt abruptly. 

She recalled the pained look on his face as she laughed her injury off as if it were merely a scratch. That golden ichor hadn’t poured from beneath her rib and stained her coat. It felt like only moments had truly passed since then; his voice still rough in her ear as he begged her to stay awake. The drumming of his heart pounding against her temple.... 

Kiri blinked when she realized she had completely stopped walking, too absorbed in such a brief but intense memory. Her own heart was a flutter beneath her breast, oddly nervous and hesitant to continue on. 

What of the prince? Did he return to the surface? To his countrymen? 

Surely he must have. Only an idiot would stay when you had a kingdom waiting for you. 

... So why did it hurt? Who now would she ask about the world on land? Who should tell her the way a garden smells after a spring rain? Or how birds sing in choirs in the forest when the air is gently sweeping the boughs. Her chest tightened and eyes began to sting. 

“Soroban!!” 

“Kiri?” 

A voice echoed from the corridor she had yet to traverse. Her eyes wide and hands trembling, she spied a flicker of light and chased it. She needed reality more than ever now. She needed Soroban’s guidance and wisdom to remind her that the thing beating in her chest wasn’t to be trusted. That as a goddess, such treasured feelings should be discarded. A grim reminder that the ocean floor is desolate and lonely; and it was her kingdom. 

Light began to flood the corridor, her own radiance growing as she ran. 

The alcove with a candlelight flicker came into view and she came to a sudden stop, narrowly avoiding slipping on her own two feet. 

Miscolored eyes searched the alcove, narrowing at the sight that greeted her. “Soroban, the hells-” 

There was a clatter in the alcove; a book falling to the floor with a definite thump against the stone. 

Soroban chuckled, sitting at a small desk inside the carved out nook and paging through a time worn journal. “Oh dear,” 

But it wasn’t Soroban that had the goddess cursing. 

An awestruck prince, not even aware that he had dropped his book, gaped at the goddess with a slack jaw and warm eyes wide. 

Her heart swelled and sang and thundered in her chest all at once, only visible by a small twitch at the corner of her lips. Yet she managed to compose herself, completely disregarding her lack of attire at the given moment. “What’s he doin’ here?” She demanded with a cocked brow. 

Soroban hummed as he shrugged. “It would seem he is gawking.” 

“I-I am most certainly not gawking!” Hien stammered with averted eyes, kneeling now to fetch his discarded book. 

“Catfish got’cha tongue, pretty boy?” Kiri mused and crossed her arms with a definitely-not-on-purpose sway of her hips. 

“T-Tch! I thought you dead yet you rise to mock me.” 

The goddess flashed a grin, proud to recognize the color blossoming along his cheekbones. 

“And with added accessories, I should note.” Allowing himself a moments glance, Hien gestured vaguely to the goddess and her current form. 

Her tail, mostly hidden beneath a waterfall of silvery hair, slapped the stone with a wet smack. The small fins along her hips and ears fanned out, stretching and collapsing against her skin. Having such attachments had often been a burden to her in the past; she resembled no ancestry that walked the land, making it difficult to hide on the very rare occasions she met with sailors before they washed ashore from a shipwreck. But seeing the prince have such a reaction, his failed attempt not to look, made her grin a cheshire’s grin. 

“Part of the job. I get submerged in sea water, this is the end result.” As if to punctuate this fact, she lifted her tail once more to slap the floor at her feet. 

“Mayhap the boy is frightened.” Soroban chimed in without looking up from his book. 

“Frightened? Of such beauty? Hardly.” There was confidence in his as he addressed Soroban. 

Kiri felt her heart skip a beat. A wave of heat touched her cheeks. Hien offered her a smile and her heart ruptured with butterflies. What a feeling of elation! To hear he did not fear her in this form but found her stunning? But the goddess struggled to find a proper reaction for this foreign feeling welling in her. 

“S-Stop starin’!”  

- - - 

“Can ya’ help me...?” 

Hien found himself fidgeting ever since the goddess had awaken. He had expected some grand show, a spectacle or miracle when she would finally rise up from her watery confinement. Yet instead with unceremonious grace, he was greeted by a naked woman with aquatic appendages decorating her body. While her scales were a thing of beauty, he had never seen such colors, there was little magic in the moment as she scolded him. 

Even now, standing with his face buried against a pillow in her bedchamber, he felt as if he had missed some wondrous display of revival magic. What it must have been like to see her emerge from a bed of waterlilies! Unable to tell where her long hair stopped and water began. To have been able to say ‘good morning’ when she first woke up.... 

“Oi, Prince! I ask’cha ta’ help!” 

“You said I wasn’t allowed to look.” He returned, albeit muffled by the pillow against his lips. 

“I’m decent now, look all ya’ want.” She blew out a sigh. 

Pillow aside, the prince looked up to view the goddess as directed. He half expected a return of her usual clothing; a stolen coat and trousers with thick boots. But his jaw slacked at the sight before him. 

Her human form had yet to return, thus her choice in clothing had been limited. Instead of sailors clothing fabric hung from sparkling gold chains at her throat and around her waist; maroon colored silk draped her chest just enough to be considered decent, a cut of the same fabric a loincloth starting at the flat of her stomach and pooling on the floor at her feet. Bangles and more golden chains glittered from her wrists and even strung on the quills of her fins like jewelry. 

“...Yer starin’ again.” 

Hien coughed, sheepishly clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to stand beside her. “Your sense of fashion is astonishing is all.” 

“Oi,” 

Yet before she could continue, he smiled. “What did you need help with?” 

Her hand extended to offer him an item. He reached out in return to accept, until he caught a spark of light dancing on the blades edge. 

“A knife?” Dumbfounded again, he raised a brow. “Please do not ask me to descale-” 

“No! Wait, what?? No!!!” Her cheeks puffed. Kiri reached for her hair, bundling it and draping it across her shoulder. It was still slick and dripping; a trail of water a new track of hers. “Cut it for me?” 

He couldn’t help the tilt of his head as she asked so softly such a harmless request. “But you at last have hair longer than mine. Surely you don’t wish to cut all of it?” 

“I do, actually. Hate havin’ it long like this.” 

Without further argument and the knife now in his hands, Kiri twirled on her heel, her hair once again falling down the curve of her back. 

Such long, silken hair. She could have easily worn it to cover herself. Dragging his fingertips through it, Hien leaned a bit closer to the Goddess. He could smell the ocean on her; the sea during a storm with rain and salty winds. 

“Kirishimi....?” His voice dropped, his eyes tracing the outline of her shoulders and recognizing touches of scarred flesh peppering her skin just as much as dark and light freckles dusted her shoulders. 

He was reminded in that moment of her beauty. Of her power and strength. So what then, had caused her scars? 

Kiri shivered, his breath hot at the nape of her neck. “Yes...?” 

The prince held the knife tightly just above his other hand still knotted in her hair. The blade’s edge skimmed her flesh which drew a subtle inhale from the goddess. 

“What happened to the town you cursed?” 

- - - 

Silence filled the room. She felt him, so near that she felt the heat radiating from him. His breath a near whisper in her ear, his voice level as he delivered such a heavy question. 

“So that’s what’cha were readin’...” Although the accent still came through, she did her best to imitate music. A siren could lure men into a false sense of comfort, why couldn’t she? 

His hand tangled in her hair tightened its grip, pulling her slightly closer. “No games, Kiri. I want the truth. You’re still bound to me, are you not?” 

Although armed with a weapon as he was, he had yet to directly threaten her with it. It did little to stop the rabbit like heartbeat in her chest, a mixture of hurt, annoyance, and a touch of panic. But yet his hand relaxed and soon she heard the blade gliding through her hair. 

“Bound ta’ ya’ doesn’t mean I gotta spill all my secrets.” She replied in earnest. Her contract with the prince had plainly showed a lack of interest of either parties history. But when he inhaled sharply, the goddess sighed. 

- - - 

“First, I want’cha ta’ know, ya’ should’ve finished the book before accusin’ me of anythin’.” 

Hien didn’t respond. Instead his mind replayed the moment; the book he had been engaged with falling from his hands at the sight of her. Heat returned to his cheeks but full glad was he that her back was to him. 

“As for the curse.... I didn’t curse anyone. That was the original Tide Mother. The first Sea Goddess. Her grief and pain swelled into a mighty storm in her heart and clouded her eyes. Girls were born to look like her with and without her scales and tails. They were blessed by the Goddess but it frightened the towns folk.” 

There was a sorrow to her voice that made the prince loosen his grip on her hair, even halting his cutting of her hair as he listened. Part of him had believed the story was a fairy tale written by mortals. A retelling of something the Goddess had done, good or bad. 

“Scared people are easy to trick... And a man knew just how to talk to a crowd. He convinced them, every single one of them, that their daughters were to be sacrificed to the Goddess. Ta’ show her, ta’ put her in her place. Ta’ defy the very goddess whom they had loved so dearly before.” 

Even though he couldn’t confirm it himself, Hien knew the goddess before him was struggling not to burst into tears. And who wouldn’t? The idea of it... His stomach churned as cogs began turning in his mind. 

“You said she was the first,” He started slowly, “does that make you...the second...?” 

“Aye.” 

“Kiri....” 

“She was disgusted by mortals. How could they? How could they be so cruel?!” Her shoulders shook. Hien couldn’t tell if it was because she was crying or shaking with fury. Or maybe it was a mixture of both. “Those mothers and fathers looked at us and smiled, convinced it was the right thing to do! The only option they had! Bloody cowards is what they were!” 

With a twist of his wrist the remainder of her hair was cut through, the floor length locks shifting to salt water and landing on the stone with a splash at his feet. The knife clattered to the floor alongside the puddle, discarded so he could take her into his arms and hold her against his chest. 

The goddess, so powerful and courageous, trembled in his arms; tears stained the front of his tunic when she curled into him. 

“... When she tried ta’ stop them,” Kiri began again, a hiccup interrupting her, “the man attacked her with strange weapons. She was severely injured and in her rage and sorrow... She sunk the city. Brought the whole cliffs down and buried it beneath the ocean.” 

“I’m sorry,” Hien found himself whispering it over and over again, a mantra that was some how supposed to help her feel better. At least her trembling had subsided. 

“... I was the only one that survived. The Tide Mother was dying inside and out... but she saved me from drownin’ like the others... and passed it all ta’ me.” 

More cogs began to stir. “That must be why Zenos and that Octavia woman were after you. The man in the story must have been Garlean. Perhaps someone survived and lived to tell the tale....” But when Kiri gave no answer, Hien dropped the subject. She was in no mood or condition to talk about her own death. Instead he drew her closer still, the scent of the ocean still stormy on her. 

“The book you were readin’... Soroban found it in his travels before meetin’ me.” 

“Speaking of which... Why the library? This whole sunken city, this library... It is the one she buried, right?” 

Kiri gave a nod against his chest and sniffled. “The library was the only place they were allowed to worship her in secrecy. A few folk tried to expose it, so they destroyed the goddess’ face on the fountain. Anyone who questioned the library was then lead to believe that Leviathan was the one they prayed to.” 

“...So why sink it at all?” 

The goddess lifted herself from his chest, her eyes rimmed red with tears and mismatched eyes like jewels. “So no one would ever remember her... or me.”

Clearly the original Goddess hadn’t expected survivors of the tragedy. How else had he known the legend of the Ocean Goddess? Or the prince of Garlemald that seemed so determined to capture her? 

Hien scrunched his nose and bid the thoughts leave him; at least for the moment. With all his heart, all he wanted to do now was hold her. A kingdom all her own, built upon the jealousy and hatred of a goddess and a single man. One she had to endure alone at the bottom of the sea...  

[amyscascadingtabs]

look now, the sky is gold

He wants this, has longed for this, and he already can’t wait to meet whoever’s growing in there, but he’s scared, too. There’s no turning back now. His world is about to be forever changed, and it will never be just him and Amy again. There will be someone else depending on them, always another person in the back of their heads, and it's slowly hitting Jake that he's about to get onto what is sure to be simultaneously the best and most terrifying rollercoaster of his life.

or, the jake peralta way of dealing with the news that you're going to be a dad. 

read on ao3

(thank you to my love @johnny-and-dora for cheering me on about this and major thanks to @amydancepants-peralta for reading through it for me!!) 

____________________________________________________

During the months they were trying, Jake pictured his reaction to a positive pregnancy test many times. 

Each time Amy took one, he’d either sat with her and held her hand, or waited outside the bathroom quietly twiddling his thumbs. Each month, he’d thought of what his reaction would be if the test came back with the two lines meaning pregnant. Maybe he’d laugh, or kiss her, or make a dope sextape joke that she'd punch him in the arm for. There were plenty of options, yet he never considered the reaction that occurs when Amy does fish the familiar white and pink plastic stick out of the pocket of her hoodie.

First, there's the surprise, the realization that this test has two lines and not one.

Then, there's the piecing together, looking from the test to Amy's tear-filled eyes and nervous smile in sheer disbelief.

Then it's the part where even though he thinks he understands, he asks to make sure, and his voice trembles when he says the word baby? and Amy confirms it and suddenly he's tearing up, too, giving in to the sudden need to wrap her in a tight hug.

 “Is this real?” He whispers as she sniffles into his hoodie. “You're… this is really happening?”

“I think it is,” she laughs, a little timid, and he wants to hug her even tighter. Then he wonders if he's supposed to be extra careful with his wife now when she’s carrying the beginning of a brand new person inside of her, and stops himself.

“You did it,” he says instead, and she nods. His shirt is becoming wet from her crying, but he doesn’t mind it. He's missed her happy tears. “You did it, Ames.”

“We did it,” she mumbles, and Jake thinks about holding her hand at the doctor’s appointment, sitting there listening to the fertility consultant explain what medications she needed to take. He’d felt useless, not knowing how to help except staying by her side. “Me and you together.”

Mostly you, he wants to say, because it was always hardest on her, but she pulls away from him smiling so wide, and he nods.

“Okay. Me and you.”

Amy claims she’s exhausted, so they go to bed early even though neither has work tomorrow. Jake finishes the game - he loses, but it’s okay because he's untouchable right now and Wario cheats anyway - and then crawls down under his side of the comforter, waiting for his wife.

  Amy comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and underwear, and he’s mesmerized by her as he watches her pull the familiar blue NYPD t-shirt over her head, fabric sliding over the still mostly flat stomach.

He thinks about how this body he knows so well and loves so much is carrying the beginning of another life inside of it. It's hard to understand how it can still look the same, no obvious changes in its appearance, when it must be changing more than ever on the inside. He wonders how long it'll be before the outside catches up. Part of him can’t wait for it to; maybe it'll feel more real then, once he can see it happening. Plus, he's already certain Amy’s going to look cute as hell with a real baby bump. He’s excited.

  “I'm too tired for sex,” she warns him when she catches him staring, and he holds up his hands, feigning innocence.

“No worries. I mean, we don't even have any pressure now, right? Already made the baby,” he points out, and she chuckles as she gets under the covers.

“We did. Without a war-room calendar and everything.”

“Just love,” he muses.

“And a little bit of hormones, possibly.”

“Love and a little bit of hormones, title of our sextape.”

“I love you,” she whispers, and he can't stop himself from pulling her closer, making her giggle as he presses feather-light kisses to her neck. “I can't believe this is real life.”

“We're having a real-life baby.”

“Hopefully.” Amy bites her lip. “I mean, it's still early. We shouldn't be telling people for another month or two, in case something happens.” Her voice shakes on the last word, but Jake hushes her.

“Let's not think about that, okay? Let's just be happy for right now.”

She gives him another faint smile. “Okay. Right now.”

“And right now you're pregnant.”

“Right now I'm pregnant.” Her eyes gleam. “Holy fuck.”

“Woah, using foul language in front of our unborn child? Shame on you, Santiago - shame.”

“They're a five-week embryo. They don't have ears yet.”

“Right, right. But they exist,” he says, still trying to comprehend it. “Because we're having a baby.”

“We are,” she nods, and this time the smile on her face is radiant, making up for every instance he’s seen her crying in the last months.

  He’s not sure what time he wakes up the next morning, but Amy's not awake yet, so he figures it must be early. She's drifted away from him during the night, and he moves closer, aching to be near her.

She’s sleeping on her right side with her mouth open slightly and her hair spread out on the pillow, and Jake wonders if it’s possible pregnancy is making her glow already. He reaches out to wrap an arm around her, but is stopped in his tracks when he notices that her left hand is resting on her stomach as if to protect the tiny life growing in there.

He has to swallow hard to keep himself from crying again. This is not the time to have a breakdown, because his wife is finally pregnant and he has to keep it together for her sake, but with the boundless happiness has come an edge of fear and something else.

  It’s a feeling he can’t put words on yet, but it’s spreading from deep in his heart to every capillary in his body, filling him with an immediate, acute awareness that he would do anything in the world to make sure the child growing in there is safe. The thought of something happening to Amy has been his worst fear for a long time, ever since he had to leave his post in Texas so she could do her job without him hovering over her and being worried sick, but this feels different. This is instinctual. Jake doesn’t know anything about this child yet, isn’t sure if what he feels for them counts as love when it’s so new and uncertain, but he knows deep in his soul that he’d give up everything to keep them safe.

  Carefully, as to not wake his soundly sleeping wife, he lifts the comforter and leans down so he’s facing her stomach. He presses a kiss to her hand, and then lets his rest on top of hers, linking their fingers together. Amy smiles in her sleep. Jake allows himself another moment of just watching her, wondering how on Earth he got so lucky, before he gets out of bed and pads into the bathroom.

  He’s washing his hands when he notices the pregnancy test still resting on the counter next to the sink. Amy threw away all the negative ones, and he’s taken aback by seeing this one on full display before realizing it makes total sense for her to want to save it. He wonders where they’ll put it - it seems weird to make a shrine for a piece of plastic someone’s peed on, but it also feels wrong to leave the first evidence of the existence of their child forgotten in a drawer somewhere. He picks it up for a second and balances it in his hand. The two lines are as clear as they were yesterday, and just looking at them makes him jittery with excitement and a little bit of nerves.

He wants this, has longed for this, and he already can’t wait to meet whoever’s growing in there, but he’s scared, too. There’s no turning back now. His world is about to be forever changed, and it will never be just him and Amy again. There will be someone else depending on them, always another person in the back of their heads, and it's slowly hitting Jake that he's about to get onto what is sure to be simultaneously the best and most terrifying rollercoaster of his life.

  He needs a distraction. Amy’s probably going to wake up soon, and he could always try to make them breakfast. This is something worth celebrating with real, unhealthy pancakes, served with an excessive amount of butter and syrup and possibly some strawberries if Amy forces him. Jake finds the pancake mix, hidden deep inside the cupboard still filled with gross healthy stuff like oat bran and sunflower seeds, and is about to get milk and an egg from the fridge when he notices something.

 On the second shelf in their fridge is a small piece of some weird, but surprisingly good, cheese Charles gave them. Next to it is a package of cream cheese, and next to that are two bags of mozzarella and a piece of regular gouda. Jake remembers reading somewhere about all this stuff you're not supposed to eat when you're pregnant, and he's almost certain the list included a bunch of cheeses. He can't remember which ones, but just to be certain, he throws out the one from Charles, the first of the mozzarella bags, and then he throws out the gouda and the cream cheese too just in case. He sees a packet of bacon and vaguely remembers something about deli meats being another no-no. He's not sure what counts as deli meats, but he throws out a packet of turkey lunch meat and the bacon as well. Surely, they can't be too safe, and he wants - needs - to protect his pregnant wife and their child in every possible way. He wants to do his best and he wants to start today. If throwing out all their cold cuts is one way, then Jake is doing it. Maybe he should pour out all their alcohol too, that he knows is dangerous, or at least hide it for the following nine months -

  “Babe, what are you doing?”

He freezes with the second bag of mozzarella still in his hand, turning around to meet the befuddled gaze of his wife.

“Uh -”

“Why are you throwing out everything in our fridge?” Amy has thrown on one of his hoodies and her hair’s in a messy top knot, but she still manages to give off one hell of an authoritative vibe when her brows furrow and she's looking at him like he just explained he was getting ready to compete in the next Summer Olympics.

“I thought…” He nods to her stomach and then to the cheese in his hand. “Pregnant people aren't supposed to eat a bunch of stuff, right? I’ve heard this stuff about cold cuts and cheeses, and then I wasn't sure which ones, so…”

“So you threw everything out?”

“Yeah,” he confesses, sheepishly. “Better safe than sorry?”’

Amy sighs. “Jake, you’re majorly overreacting.”

“I am?”

“The recommendations for cheese and deli meats are there to avoid getting listeria, which you’re more susceptible to in pregnancy, and which can also harm the baby. But pretty much everything is sprayed with food additives today, so the risk is low, and the bacteria dies if you heat it up. For cheese, you just have to avoid the unpasteurized ones.” She grabs the mozzarella from his hand, reading at the back. “This is pasteurized. Most cheeses are. So the only thing you’re doing is creating food waste.”

“I didn’t know for sure,” he shrugs, backing away and looking down at his feet as Amy puts back the cheese in their fridge before closing it. “I thought - I wanted to do this right.”

She squints. “What do you mean?”

“I have to start being a dad now, right? And I want to,” he rambles quickly. “Fuck, I can’t wait, okay? But…” He gestures to her stomach again, swallowing hard. “You’re doing everything, and I wanted to help. Start being a good dad right away.”

  There’s a moment’s silence. Amy bites her lip, her eyes narrowing again, and he realizes she’s tearing up.

“Oh, honey,” she sniffles, and then she throws her arms around him without warning and hugs him tight. Jake hugs her back, stroking her hair. She’s been crying so much lately, it’s becoming second nature, but this time she pulls back after a couple of seconds and wipes away the tears with the sleeves of the hoodie before looking him right in the eyes.

“Please listen to me when I say this. You are a good dad, okay? You’ll be amazing. I hate to tell you this, but you can’t exactly be pregnant for me.”

“I know that,” he scoffs, a little indignant. Amy shakes her head, holding her hands on his shoulders.

“This kid is the size of an apple seed right now. An apple seed. We haven’t even known about their existence for twenty-four hours yet. What I’m trying to say is we don't have to clean out our entire fridge yet, babe.”

“I want to protect them,” he mumbles. “Make sure they're safe. It feels like the closest thing to that I can do is try to protect you.”

“I’ll make sure we throw out all the stuff I can't have,” she promises him calmly. “I’ll make a list in the binder of what I can't eat or do and I’ll follow it to a T. But you have to trust me, Jake.”

“Of course I trust you. It's not that.” He grimaces, taking a deep breath. “I could never deal with anything happening to you. And now, if it does, it's also happening to our child, and that makes it worse, Ames! I’m just...”

“Feeling a little overprotective?”

“Yeah!”

She giggles, which makes him feel kind of stupid, but then she stands on the tip of her toes and kisses him something sweet and lingering, and he figures he can’t have made too detrimental of a mistake. She smiles as she pulls back, and it’s such a safe smile, one saying I know you and it will be okay all at once. It’s easy to return it.

  “Babe, I can protect myself. And until this child is born,” she says, moving her right hand to rest above his heart, “I promise to do everything in my power to protect them, too. I’ll go on desk duty, I won’t as much as touch a drop of alcohol, and I’ll try to stress less. Hell, I’ll drink decaf coffee for the next nine months for the sake of this baby.”

“Woah.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Save your applause. Point is, babe, I’ll keep them safe. Can you trust me to do that?”

 He doesn’t have to think about his answer for long. In the eleven years he’s known the woman standing in front of him, he’s learned a lot about her. She’s the best person he knows - smart, brave, motivated and hard-working as hell - and on top of that, she’s fiercely loyal. Amy cares for the people around her, genuinely cares in a way that goes much further than sending the whole precinct Christmas cards or remembering every single one of her nieces’ and nephews’ birthdays.

Amy cares, and a lucky selection of people, she loves. Jake’s always seen it as the greatest honor of his life to get to be loved so deeply by her, and much like he confessed a late evening on their honeymoon when they recited their actual vows to each other, he plans on spending every day of their lives together trying to be worthy of it.

Amy loves, and the people she loves, she would go to the ends of the Earth to protect. There’s not a sliver of doubt in his mind about it, and the longer he thinks about it, the more certain he feels about two things.

 First and foremost, that Amy will love their baby to pieces. If there’s one thing Jake’s looking forward to even more than meeting their baby himself, it’s getting to see the look in Amy’s eyes when she holds them for the first time. He already knows it will drive his heart crazy.

Secondly, he knows she’ll protect them. Amy’s a protector, always looking out for the people she loves, and even though she’ll roll her eyes at him when he does something decidedly harebrained, like hiding in a ceiling for a frivolous squad competition and breaking his ribs falling from it, she’s also the one insisting on driving him to the ER later. If she’s willing to love and look after him in that way, then Jake figures her level of commitment to protecting their child will be immeasurable.

  Jake trusts Amy to keep their baby safe. He trusts her so much, he’d be willing to bet their car and apartment and everything else Amy’s told him he’s absolutely forbidden to bet, on it. His insecurities are rooted in the fact that he wants to protect this child, too, but aside from protecting Amy, he has no idea how to go about it for the upcoming nine months.

  “I trust you,” he says, voice steadfast, and Amy looks pleased. “That's not the problem.”

“Good. So what is?”

“What should I do? Except wait impatiently for them to be born so I can help out?”

“Well,” she shrugs, “you could just keep doing what you're already doing.”

“What?”

“Being my partner,” Amy says calmly, eyes piercing into his. “Which you’re already great at. You can just be here, hug me when these crazy-ass hormones make me cry, listen and talk me down when I get anxious. All I want is for you to be by my side for this, as much as you can.”

“Hold your hair when you throw up, buy you a bunch of crazy food when you get cravings, always be available for sex whenever you reach the point in pregnancy when women get super horny?”

“Okay, slow down.” She rolls her eyes. “We don't know if any of that is going to happen yet. I haven't exactly done this before.”

“Point is I’ll do all of those things if you need me to,” he grins. “Of course I’ll be your partner, Ames. You don't have to ask. But I… I want to do everything I can for our baby.”

She strokes his cheek, reaching up to give him a chaste kiss. “Which is how I know you're going to make the greatest dad on Earth. But for now, babe, they don't need you yet.”

“Ouch.”

Amy laughs. “They’ll need you in nine months, and for the rest of their life after that. If you want to do what’s best for them, I’d suggest keeping yourself safe until then, and I’ll take care of us. Myself, and this wished-for, crazy loved little apple seed.”

He looks down at her stomach again as she says that, trying to imagine a tiny bump there. All he can procure in his head is the giant fake belly from her undercover mission in Texas, but he figures his frame of reference will grow soon enough.

  “And once they gain a sense of hearing”, Amy continues, “you can start talking to them if you want. If you do, the books say they’ll recognize your voice once they’re born. You can come with me to all the appointments, maybe read some parenting books, and I’ll let you order the Die Hard-onesie and baby sneakers I know you’ve been eyeing online. We’re doing this together. I’m just going to do a bit more of it in the beginning. Okay?”

He places his hand over the one that’s on his heart, moving them both to her lower abdomen and nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I love you,” she whispers, another tear already trailing down her cheek. Jake wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too.”

 They stand together for a moment, just hugging. It’s all he needs to feel a little more relaxed. He’s still certain he’s in for the wildest rollercoaster ride of his life, but Amy’s words and presence, the knowledge that he’s doing every step with her, is the over-the-shoulder harness to make sure he’s sitting safely for every second of it. The worry and fear of not doing enough is still there, but her trust in him makes it subdued.

 “How are you so chill about this?” He asks when they separate, Amy getting a glass of water for herself before taking a smaller one and extending it to him.“Oh my god, Ames - has having my genome inside of you corrupted you?”

Amy snorts with laughter, spitting out water over herself and the sink. “That is so not how any of this works,” she gets out, coughing slightly.

“It’s not?”

“Not by a long shot. Anyway - you want to know why I’m calm?” Jake nods.

“Because I’m with you. I mean,” she says, folding her hands together and focusing her gaze at them. “Also because it’s super early. Honestly, I’m not sure I trust that it’s happening yet. I guess I need to have blood work done to confirm it, and I don’t know if I’ll fully believe it until we have an ultrasound and we can hear a heartbeat, but… a lot of it is because I know I’m doing this with you.” She looks up at him, a careful but firm smile on her lips. “So I know that no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay. Somehow.”

“We’re having a baby,” he whispers, and her smile grows wider.

“We’re having a baby.”

 He’s not sure who closes the distance between them, or who kisses who first. All he knows is he lets himself get lost in it, immersing himself in the feeling of her lips on his, insistent and wanting, her arms around his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist when he lifts her so she’s sitting on the kitchen island. He pulls at the hem of her t-shirt, but she’s there before him, pulling it over her head and giving a meaning nod to signal at him to take off his own.

  They end up in the bedroom, because as useful as their kitchen island can be, it always gives one of them a backache the next day and the bedroom is easier, full stop. The bedroom lets him worship her in another way, lets him do it slowly, devote his entire focus to the sounds she’s making instead of worrying about losing his balance. And he wants to worship her; maybe now more than ever, because he’s still trying to make up for the disaster that was the end of those six months, but also because he’s never been so certain that his wife is magic. She’s doing something extraordinary, and he wants to show her how much he loves her for it, loves her for what she’s willing to go through to grow their family.

  He doesn’t know how much time passes - the duration slots on their war room calendars have become but a memory he’s happy to leave behind - but after, Amy curls into his side and rests her head on his arm. He plays with her hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of her forehead, and he can’t remember the last time he felt so at peace.

“Promise me one thing,” she mumbles in his ear, and he nods.

“Anything.”

“You are not allowed to become one of those men who become afraid to have sex with their pregnant wife because you think you’re going to poke the baby’s head.”

He gives her a haunted look. “I wasn’t going to until you pointed it out!”

“It’s not a thing! They’re well protected in there, and they won’t have a clue what’s happening anyway! So - not allowed.”

“Noted,” he mutters, trying to erase the picture from his head. Amy giggles, pecking his lips with a kiss.

“Great. So what are we doing today, to celebrate?”

“Well, I was trying to make pancakes, before I got distracted -”

“You want to go out to breakfast? As a family?”

The last word makes his heart flutter. “Okay.”

  They end up going out to their favorite diner. Jake can’t help but make note of how many parents with their kids are there. He wonders if it’s an unusual amount today, or if he just never made note of them before. It doesn’t matter, because they bring up the same thought anyway; how soon, the couple who are trying to make their toddlers look up from the iPad long enough to be fed bites of toast could be him and Amy, or even sooner, the couple who takes turns eating and exchanging a fussing infant between them.

In the booth opposite theirs, two women are having breakfast while a ginger baby in a baby chair happily plays with a paper straw. Just as Jake is starting to wonder if he’s creepy for not being able to look away, the kid makes eye contact with him, grins and waves the chewed-up straw at him. Jake picks up his own from his drink, waving it back. The kid laughs at him, and Jake feels his heart melt in a way it’s never done with a stranger’s baby before.

“I can’t wait to take our kid here,” he tells Amy as he’s pouring syrup over his pancakes, and she shoots him a smile over the edge of her decaf-coffee cup.

“Me either.”

  After breakfast, they stop at their neighborhood’s Target, because Amy wants the digital tests that say the word Pregnant and Jake wants to stock up on snacks so they can have a slug day with movies in bed. This time, the aisle of baby clothes doesn’t hurt to walk past, and after they’ve done so, he finds himself suggesting they’ll turn around.

  They browse through little onesies and pants and hats with ears on them, pointing out their finds to each other with equal excitement. Eventually, they settle on footed pajamas with a pattern of grey stars - gender-neutral, soft, and even tinier than he imagined they’d be - and Jake tries to picture their child wearing them. It doesn’t seem completely real to him yet, but he says it to Amy anyway, and then he has to hug her when she starts crying again.

“These are happy tears,” she whispers, clutching the item between them. “Stupid hormones.”

“I know,” he laughs, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay.”

 He still feels a little worthless thinking about everything his wife is going through, a little powerless and wishing there was more he could do, but he holds her as she’s crying in the baby clothing aisle of Target and thinks that if this is the best way he can protect her and their kid for now, he’ll gladly spend the rest of his days doing it.

  (A month later, when he’s holding the first sonogram picture of their fetus in his hand and the sound of their ticking heartbeat is forever imprinted in his head, he knows it for certain.)

~

[zahneundklauen-retired]

Symbiosis || Zinnia and Alcher

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @zinniarhee and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Alcher makes it to Zinnia’s. Zinnia makes a big decision. CONTENT: Blood, Body Horror mentions, Gore

The world passed by Alcher in a bleary haze. Water sopped from her body, matted fur bunched where blood still leaked from her wounds. She limped, scraping herself along. She could barely see, barely hear, barely walk. She wasn’t sure where her feet were taking her, her two back legs dragging behind her, broken and bruised. Her front paw still bleeding, trembling with each movement. Each moment of pressure. One ear broken, flopped and limp on her head. Even the stench of her own blood, muddled with salt and dirt, was too much for her own nose. Finally, her body collapsed. Get up, came Klaus’s voice, and it was dark and harsh. Get up, little sister. This isn’t the end. Alcher’s eyes flickered opened. In front of her blurry vision was a figure, crouching down to look at her. Get up! Klaus said again, and with a grunt of enormous effort, she hoisted herself back up and continued on. One small step after another. She had to make it. You have to make it. And at the end there, she was sure Klaus was lifting her and dragging her along farther, harder. Finally, a door. The bell jingled as she clawed it open. Collapsed to the floor, cool wood against her cheek. Something knocked over next to her as she tried to grip the shelf to keep herself standing. Her body groaned and creaked as it reformed back to human and when Alcher looked up at the second blurry figure in her vision, she understood where she’d brought herself. “Zinnia…” was all she was able to choke out.

The day had been fairly calm, though, Zinnia knew that it was a rare occurrence. Since she had involved herself in not only human affairs, but the affairs of those around her, it had become a little harder for her to retreat into herself. There were people, admittedly-- begrudgingly, that she cared for now. Though, she wasn’t sure if people was the right term. The sound of something jangling-- then something crashing, pulled Zinnia from her thoughts. Rushing into the foyer, she gaped at the sight of a very mutilated Alcher on her floor. She couldn’t sit and think, she had to act, and act fast. Zinnia kneeled down next to Alcher, her fingertips ghosting the space above Alcher’s body, as if she were tracing out the woman’s wounds. She was hardly recognizable. She bit back her questions, knowing well enough that the blonde probably would be unable to answer them anyways.

 “Stay still,” Zinnia said, her voice hardening. There was so much blood-- so much that she couldn’t be sure where it was coming from. Zinnia reached out, fingertips gently brushing aside the hair on Alcher’s forehead. “I’m going to take care of you.” She redirected her attention to the worst of the woman’s wounds and closed her eyes. She had already broken her pact-- with nobody other than herself, but it was still a pact, it still mattered to her. She focused her energy-- everything that she had, over the wounds that covered Alcher’s body. The glow that emitted from her palms pressed into the woman’s skin, and she could hear the bones begin to crack back into place. It was not a sound she was unfamiliar with, but it was still eerie nonetheless. She recalled her moments with Abel, hoping that she’d have more than enough energy to execute the full healing process, or at least enough to keep Alcher from dying. “Stay awake,” Zinnia said coarsely, pressing either of her hands into Alcher’s broken ankle. At the very least, she’d be able to heal any life threatening injuries, and then Alcher’s quick healing would do the rest-- or so she hoped. She didn’t know the extent of her abilities, didn’t know if even this would be enough. It had to be, though. There was no way she could take Alcher to somebody else.

“I’m s-sorry…” Alcher croaked out, still strewn on her side, wheezing with breath. Sputtered, spit out some blood. Zinnia’s hands were ghosting over her body and if it weren’t for the pain overwhelming her senses, she was sure she still would’ve felt them floating over her skin. Something was pressing into her, something warm and...soft. Like a blanket wrapping around the inside of her. Bones began cracking into place, a feeling she was overly familiar with. Even so, she whined in pain, hands clenching. An exhaustion like she’d never known was taking over her and the second, darker figure in her vision began to fade away. “Klaus…” she muttered subconsciously, the word more of a gurgle. Stay awake said a voice, but it wasn’t Klaus’s. It was Zinnia. Yes, right, she’d come to Zinnia’s. Somehow, she knew the other woman would help her. She was safe with her. Her eyes drooped closed a little, and despite the pain, smiled as much as her mangled jaw would let her. “I’m sorry,” she repeated quietly, “I b-broke my...p-promise…” 

There wasn’t much that could shake Zinnia. She had seen a lot in her 150 years, but there was something different about seeing somebody that she had come to care for, writhing in pain below her hands. She forced herself to focus. Feelings would do Alcher no good in this situation. Zinnia glanced at the blonde’s face, making sure that she was awake-- if her eyes were to close, there’d be no telling if Zinnia would be able to get them to open up again. Taking a deep breath, she streamed her energy into Alcher’s ankle, letting it splinter up the wolf’s leg. The bones continued to crack, cuts seemingly closing themselves shut. At the very least, she’d be able to make the healing process more comfortable. She had to. Alcher’s words brought a smile lifting at the corner of her lips. “Don’t,” She redirected her attention to Alcher’s face, looked in her eyes-- searched for something that’d tell her the woman meant it. She did. “This is going to hurt,” the brunette said quiet and quickly, pushing her now bloodied hands to secure the underside of Alcher’s jaw. She closed her eyes and poured in as much energy from her palms as possible. The snap of Alcher’s jaw was sickening, and even Zinnia winced at it. She could feel the exhaustion dipping into her shoulders-- the way it felt as though she’d sag at any moment into the ground. She couldn’t-- she’d have to give Alcher everything she could. Why? She was unsure to the fullest extent of her concerns with the wolf, but she knew that there was something-- something she had to protect. “Don’t do it again,” Zinnia muttered under her breath, closing a hand over Alcher’s ear, the glow of her hand illuminating the mangled skin. 

When Alcher managed to open her eyes again and see through the trail of blood down her forehead, Zinnia was closer to her than last time. Her leg, though still sore, didn’t burn the way it had when she’d used it to drag herself along. Whatever it was Zinnia was doing, it was healing her. She lifted her head weakly, but was only able to keep it lifted for a few seconds before it lolled back. But soft hands pressed gently around her chin, held it in place. Alcher didn’t have time to respond before pain blossomed through her jaw and down into her neck and back up again. She groaned loudly, tears mixing with blood, one hand reaching out and grabbing onto Zinnia’s arm, squeezing tightly. She barely even noticed, shaking with pain. But slowly, so slowly, her body was beginning to feel like it was her own again. Even if the silver still burned her skin. Another soft hand was placed over her ear and Alcher turned her head to look up at Zinnia. Vision was coming back, the black fading away. It was just them in the room now, too. Klaus was gone. “Stop,” she muttered when she felt the droop in Zinnia’s arms, “you’re doing...too much.” What had Alcher given Zinnia that she deserved this much in return? They were just friends, right? New friends, even. Though they seemed to share a bond that Alcher hadn’t found with anyone in a long time. She let go of Zinnia’s arm and reached a shaky hand up to her cheek, brushing fingers gently. “I’m better…” she huffed out, still exhausted, “...you can stop.”

The more Zinnia worked, the more exhausted she began to feel. She was grateful that the extent of the injuries she had been healing were broken bones and mild lacerations-- there wasn’t much of a reason for her to try and do much else. There were always people suffering, but people weren’t her problem-- they never had been, never would be. Alcher, on the other hand… Zinnia wasn’t sure where Alcher laid in the grand scheme of things. She was clearly not human, but if Zinnia were being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure that the woman could offer more than companionship. She was mortal, and would die off at some point-- what was the fun in that? Though, something kept her tied to the woman’s side, desperation in her fingertips as she pulled her hand away as soon as the bleeding in Alcher’s ear stopped. She looked down at the shaky hand on her arm, then into Alcher’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to let you die,” she said quietly. She reached out again, her fingertips brushing away the hair in her eyes. “Once you’re well enough, I will need a brief explanation as to why you’re showing up on my doorstep as if you’ve just leapt out of hell.” Zinnia gently removed Alcher’s hand from her arm before she got to her feet. Her own hands were bloodied, but she needn't worry about that, not yet. She walked to the closet at the end of the hallway pulling out a few towels and a bowl of water. Returning to where Alcher laid in her foyer, she sat down and began to wipe away the blood from her face. Zinnia wasn’t sure why she cared about this broken wolf, or why she was doing her best to save her. She had let others die before-- others who were inept at serving her a purpose, but this was different. Alcher was different. 

As a child, Alcher got into many accidents. Scrapes, bruises, broken bones. Her and her brothers would always get into trouble, tumble down hills together, wrestle and fight each other. And at the end of the day, they would always return home and have their wounds tended to. Sometimes, when their wounds were because of their own foolishness and they weren’t grievous, their father would refuse to let their mother patch them up. They needed to learn their lesson, after all, and make sure to not do it again. Alcher always thought she’d learned the lesson well, she rarely got herself into troublesome situations. Her wounds were mostly cuts and bruises from altercations with hunters or beasts in the woods. She never thought she’d have to fight a fae child, hellbent on avenging her hunter father. But, then again, White Crest had thrown so much at her already, hadn’t it? Alcher didn’t know how to respond to Zinnia’s quiet demand. She was not sure she would understand. But maybe Zinnia was the only one who would understand. When Zinnia left, Alcher let her eyes close, her body finally stable enough to relax. She could still smell the silver stuck in her cuts, and the salt water in her lungs and in her hair. And she could still taste the sweet fae blood in her mouth, as they tumbled from the cliff together. She startled slightly when Zinnia returned and began to wipe the blood from her face. With great effort, and a short groan, Alcher sat herself up, and looked into Zinnia’s eyes. “I don’t know what drove me to come here…” she murmured, arms shaking with the effort it took to sit up, “but I’m glad I did. Thank you…” 

She continued to work on the blood that was caked with-- well, Zinnia couldn’t be sure what it was. At Alcher’s sudden movements, Zinnia resisted the urge to push her back down. She looked the woman in the eyes, gaze searching for something, anything, that would tell her what had happened. Zinnia was a naturally curious person. It often showed itself in different ways, but this was one of those moments. The sunlight crept up behind Alcher, illuminating the space above her head, golden rays cascading down her shoulders-- a ghastly thing, mixed with blood and sweat, maybe mud. Zinnia forced her gaze away from the door, back to Alcher. “Maybe you knew I could help you.” She offered a small smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. It was dangerous to care about others, especially those who lived for such a short amount of time. Now wasn’t the time to have that war with herself, though-- Alcher had been seriously injured. All of Zinnia’s energy needed to be poured into that, and the fact that if she had been a little bit later, Alcher may not be sitting in front of her now. “No need to thank me.” Zinnia let the smile reach her eyes this time. Twisting around, she grabbed one of the towels and knelt up, draping it over Alcher’s shoulders. “Can you tell me where any of your residual pain is?” 

Alcher gave a gentle smile, crinkling the edges of her eyes and the dry blood still stuck to her face. “I think you might be right,” she said with a weary breath. She always felt the weariness of the transformation, but this ache was much different. She hadn’t felt this weakness in a long time. And she’d been so lucky. Even as waves crashed her against the rocks and the shore line, she had been lucky. Claws scrabbling at rocks and pulling her free of the waters. She’d been lucky no hunters were lurking about near the beach, and that no hunters found her as she dragged herself towards the city. And she had been lucky, that Zinnia had been here, and that the woman valued her enough to use up all her energy to heal her. “I think I did know that,” she said softly, “you helped Stark, after all.” She pulled the draped towel around her shoulder a bit tighter, eyes still drooping with her exhaustion. “Unfortunately,” she breathed, her words slower, “I hurt most everywhere still. But I am okay,” gave a mirrored smile back to her, “I just need to sleep it off.”

Despite Alcher’s words, Zinnia would not feel at ease until she saw the woman’s usual demeanor return. She hadn’t known the blonde for long, but there was something different about her now. It was more vulnerable than she had seen anyone act in her presence, except for maybe Kaden. She dropped the bloodied rag between them and nodded. “You can sleep in my bed. The other rooms do not have beds, and my couch…” She thought for a moment. “It’s not comfortable.” Even she could admit that. There was no reason to have furniture in her guest rooms-- after all, she had no reason to invite another individual over, not until now. Zinnia got to her feet, then began to help Alcher up, too. “I don’t believe you’ll fit in my clothes, but I do have something that you can wear, I’m sure.” Zinnia had only put effort into her outfits that dealt with the clinic, wanting to fit in as much as possible. She liked the idea of looking expensive, even if she didn’t value vanity all that much. It came in the world of being a doctor, she guessed. All of the television shows she had watched in the quiet nights alone had taught her that. She knew she shouldn’t trust them, though-- especially not Private Practice. “Can you stand?” She asked. 

It didn’t quite occur to Alcher that not having another bed in a house lived in by one person was a strange thing. She had never truly owned a place to live, not like this. She lived wherever she could find shelter, and that was it. She watched the other woman stand, noticed the heaviness in her movements-- whatever she had done to heal Alcher had left her tired as well. Alcher reached out shaky arms to hold onto Zinnia and anything else stable next to her. “I can stand,” she replied quietly, “but I left my prosthetic out in the forest, so walking might be...difficult.” More difficult, really. Since her leg still shook and burned with pain. Usually, she was able to hide her clothes in a bush or under some roots, but the hunter child had stumbled upon her before she’d had a chance. She could only hope it would all still be there when she returned. She’d need to go before night, and also hope the fae child didn’t circle back, either. If she was even still alive. She did not know the extent to which fae could heal, but Alcher had barely survived their tumble herself, her thick fur and hide her only saving grace. The fae had little else. “I am lucky to have met you…” she said as they hobbled towards the bedroom, “I don’t know how to repay your kindness.”

Zinnia did her best at appearing bright eyed as she looked at Alcher. “We can find it,” she said without missing a beat, “when you’re healed.” Zinnia supported the blonde as she guided the way towards the bedroom. It was large, a small wardrobe in the corner-- old wood, of what tree, Zinnia was unsure. There was a vase of fresh flowers in the corner on the vanity table. The only pop of color, aside from the off-white sheets that as they approached, Zinnia began to peel back with one hand. She helped Alcher sit on the edge of the bed before she took a step back. “You don’t need to, really.” She gave the woman a smile before she glanced towards the hallway. She hadn’t thought about them, mostly due to the urgency of the situation-- but her cats were nowhere to be found. It was possible that the smell of wolf had made them cower. She could hear her dogs barking in the backyard, and Zinnia made a note to ensure to clean the hallway before she let them back in. They’d need to stay in one of the spare rooms tonight, but they’d fare well enough. “I’m going to go get you water.” Zinnia was quick, grabbing a glass of water, bringing the pitcher along with her back into the bedroom. She perched herself next to the blonde and extended the glass out to her before putting the pitcher on the side table. “You need rest. If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.” 

Alcher didn’t speak for a while. She glanced once around Zinnia’s room, her eyes falling to the fresh flowers on the bedside table. They smelled refreshing, wiping the scent of blood and silver from her head for a moment, reminding her that she was safe here. Here, she did not have to be on alert. That was...a rare feeling. While Alcher was not often worried for herself-- she was strong and experienced and didn’t back down from a fight-- she knew that she could never let her guard down. But right now, she felt as if she no longer needed to hold onto that thought. Zinnia left to get her some water and when Alcher looked towards the doorway, she saw Klaus standing in it. He looked tired, too. She’s not one of us, he said. Alcher didn’t respond. “You’re not real,” she muttered, and when she glanced over again he was sitting next to her on the bed. This isn’t what I saved you for. But before she could respond, Zinnia was back and she sat where Klaus had just been. Alcher blinked, rubbed her eyes. She was losing it, wasn’t she? “Thank you,” took the glass gratefully and had a long sip of it. She was quiet for a long moment again. “I have to go back out tonight,” she murmured, the glass still in her hand, “I won’t stay here and put you and yours in danger.”

“Of course.” Zinnia looked at Alcher, her brows furrowed. She wasn’t sure how much she could care for this woman before it became too real, too dangerous. Zinnia didn’t often worry about herself, but she was sure to protect herself, and others like her, over those who were not like her. She was playing a dangerous game now, letting Alcher into her life. She wasn’t stupid enough to ask the question of what could go wrong, but she was hyperaware of what could go wrong at all times-- always prepared for the downfall. “Tonight?” Zinnia asked, concern coloring her voice. She looked over Alcher, then remembered the way that the moon hung in the sky entirely too long in White Crest. “It’s not over, is it?” Zinnia clasped her hands together and began to dig her thumb into her cuticle. “Are you going to put yourself in the same position?” She asked with a tilt of her head. “Like how you showed up this morning.” 

“Yes, tonight,” Alcher confirmed quietly. She was quickly losing her energy to stay sitting up, but it didn’t seem as if this talk was over. Alcher had been burned time and time again when trying to care about people. Her family, her sister pack in Poland, the pack in Canada. Her hand shook and she lowered her gaze a moment. “And the next night, too,” she muttered. She had never feared the change, not even as a child, and perhaps feared wasn’t the correct word, but Alcher felt, in the moment, as if she did not want to change tonight. She didn’t have the strength to fight a hunter if they came along, she knew that much. She glanced over and noticed Zinnia’s clasped hands, nails digging into cuticles. How long had it been since someone worried for Alcher this way? Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand over Zinnia’s clasped ones. “I can’t promise that,” she said truthfully. They’d already established a pact of honesty, she would not go back on that, “but...what happened was...unusual, even for me. I can...if something happens, I can go somewhere else. I don’t want to put this all on you.” 

The next night, too. Zinnia let out a breath, then forced a smile. She could see the exhaustion in Alcher’s eyes, in the set of her shoulders. Zinnia knew that if she was going to have the chance at surviving whatever had happened tonight again, she would need all of the rest she could get. It took Zinnia a moment to recognize the feeling of Alcher’s hands on her. It took everything in her not to flinch away. It had been a long time since she had been touched, even in such a way that had no reason to seem concerning. She looked down at Alcher’s blood smeared hand that covered her own, then looked back up at the woman in front of her. “Ah, that’s how it works, right?” She tilted her head to the side, a flicker of a memory stirring in the back of her mind. She pushed it away. Not now. “Don’t--” She shook her head, “don’t promise me something you’re unable to follow through with, but at least try to stay safe.” She wasn’t familiar with wolves and their habits on a full moon. She had healed one years ago, albeit it was the repayment of a debt overlooked for far too long. Now, it seemed as though this would be her side gig. “You know where I am, should you need me.” Zinnia twisted her hand and took hold of Alcher’s ring and index finger, smoothing her thumb over it. “Just… be as careful as you can be.” 

“Right.” Her mother had once told Alcher that she carried a gentleness in her that she wished she would nurture more often. Her father often reinforced in her, her more hard, leader-like attributes-- but in quiet moments alone, there was a softness Alcher had that her father never understood. She would soothe her little brothers when they cried, she was always quick to calm arguments down, and she was always good at comforting others. After she’d let out her anger and found herself alone, for so many years she’d searched for the softness her mother had spoke of. She found it, again, when she found her first broken pack in Southern England. And every time she left, it got harder and harder to find that softness again. Until she’d been sure it was gone. But something-- someone, perhaps-- in White Crest seemed to be changing her mind. “And if I don’t need you?” she asked quietly after a long moment. “Can I still come back?”

Zinnia swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to look in Alcher’s eyes. “Of course.” She smiled at the blonde. There were still streaks of blood on her face, over her arms, down her chest. “Of course you can.” It was the first time that she had ever let anybody into her home, and the first time she had ever invited them back. She almost forgot what it was like to have a household with another voice. “Let me get you a shirt.” Zinnia gently removed her hand from Alcher’s grip as she got off of the bed, wandering to the wardrobe. She found a shirt that would fit Alcher before she returned to her. “Do you need--?” She asked, holding it towards her. “Do you need my help?” 

It was only when Alcher noticed Zinnia’s eyes jumping from blood patch to blood path that Alcher realized she was still caked in mud and blood and sea salt. Zinnia stood and found a shirt for her, but she didn’t reach out to take it yet. “I’d hate to bloody your shirt…” she murmured, glancing from her hands up to Zinnia’s eyes, “even if neither of us really...value human things…” she gave a soft smile, and while her body felt exhausted beyond its breaking point, she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “I’d hate to ask more of you, but...maybe a shower might do me good.” She scraped some dried blood from her arm. “Normally I’d just bathe in the river but...I don’t think that’s an option right now.” 

“It’s fine,” Zinnia assured her. Maybe the reason she cared was because Alcher was like her-- not truly like her, but they had similar mindsets. Zinnia hoped that the wolf before her wouldn’t cloud her judgement, that if it came down to it, she would still know what decisions she needed to make. For now, she would allow herself the simplicity of helping Alcher-- of helping another being like her, who was in need. This was more than helping somebody, though, and Zinnia felt that both of them knew that. This was an entirely different level of trust. “Oh. Yes, of course.” Zinnia had gone to sleep many nights covered in blood. She hadn’t thought of Alcher’s need for a shower. “I can get it ready for you.” She offered the blonde a smile before laying the shirt down on the bed, retreating into the bathroom down the hall. Even though it was Alcher who had shown up injured and battered, Zinnia felt as if it were her who had been showing her underbelly. 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Dazed and Confused (Part 7)

Summary: Dean Winchester grew up wanting to be a cop. When he gets kicked out of the police academy on a fluke though, he turns to a life of crime. After breaking up with Dean and seeing him committing a crime in the act, the reader becomes an officer herself and eventually a detective. Four years after that day, the reader is sent undercover to figure out what Dean is up to. Only she has no idea how far Dean is willing to go to keep her from finding out the truth…

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, scary situations, violence, murder, etc.

A/N: This series has been on Ao3 only for awhile now and I am finally reposting here as well. It’s not new but it may be new to you. Please enjoy!...

______

When you got to the hospital, the entire department was there, lingering around the hallways, the side eyed glances you’d gotten just days earlier when people came to visit you all but gone, replaced with apologetic looks.

“Someone is targeting my people,” said John, speaking to the most senior members of the department. “I want everyone on high alert and…Y/N. Sam.”

“Hey dad,” said Sam, John pulling him into a hug, Sam tense at the contact but he could easily pass it off as being worried for his friend. “I heard about Jack.”

“He had an Uncle listed as his emergency contact but we haven’t been able to get in touch with him yet,” said John. “I don’t think the kid has much in the way of family.”

“Yeah he does,” you said, glancing around, John nodding. “What happened?”

“We got a call about an unconscious stabbing vic just down the street from his apartment from a neighbor coming home around 8. He lost a lot of blood. Serious injuries. He might not wake up,” said John, glancing toward the room down the hall.

“Can I see him?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, waving Sam along with you. “Just be prepared.”

You grimaced when you turned the corner into his room, seeing Jack hooked up to a million different machines, bandages everywhere on his body.

“Y/N, you have no clue how those drugs got in your system. Someone nearly killed Jack tonight,” said John, turning to Sam. “If you see or hear from your brother, you call the police immediately, understand? Someone is attacking officers and we just helped a federal investigation on him. I can’t think of anyone else that would-”

“Fuck you,” said Sam, storming off down the hall, John going after him. You sighed, knowing Sam was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, no matter how pissed John got him.

“Hey, Jack,” you said quietly, walking over beside the bed, doing your best to think of him as a vic and not a friend. As soon as you got that perspective, you nearly lost it.

His injuries were identical to those on Mary. Maybe the cuts hadn’t been as deep. Maybe John didn’t have time to finish what he started but it didn’t matter. You’d stared at her file enough the past day that you knew whoever attacked Jack killed Mary.

“Hang in there, Jackie,” you said, patting the top of his head. “We’re going to get him. I promise.”

Out in the hall, Sam looked like he’d settled down, John looking calmer as they spoke quietly.

“Everything alright out here?” you said.

“Dean is our number one suspect. I’d like if you were on protective duty for Sam,” said John, Sam rolling his eyes. “Something you want to say, Sam?”

“No, sir,” muttered Sam, glancing at you and then the ground.

“Keep him in your sight at all times,” said John. “Please.”

“What are you going to do?” you asked.

“Bobby and the senior boys will work the scene. Everyone else we’ll send out on a manhunt. Check old buildings, out buildings, abandoned businesses...Dean’s got to be around here somewhere,” said John.

“I’ll keep Sam safe,” you said.

“Take him back to your apartment. Sam, you do exactly what Y/N says, got it?” asked John.

“Yes, sir,” said Sam, walking towards the elevators without you, John scoffing.

“He has no idea how hard this is for me. He just thinks I hate his brother,” said John. “I’m only trying to keep him and everyone else safe.”

“I’ll talk to him,” you said, John nodding his head. “Can you post someone here at the hospital? For Jack?”

“Yeah,” said John. “We’ll make sure whoever did that doesn’t come back.”

“Thanks,” you said, meeting Sam at the elevator, Sam shaking when the doors were shut.

“Y/N,” said Sam with a croak.

“We’ll stop your dad, I promise,” you said.

“What if Jack dies?” he said in a whisper. “He should have been with us. The runt was no match for dad. Hell, our dad killed his dad.”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand. “I need you to calm down for me. The doctor’s will do what they can for Jack and he’s tough. We need to stay focused, keep ourselves safe and give Dean a heads up to find a better hiding place.”

“How are you so calm?” asked Sam.

“I’m going to take care of you, that’s why,” you said, Sam taking a few deep breaths. “We aren’t going back to my apartment Sam. Your dad must have gotten the knife to go after Jack with.”

“We know exactly where it is,” said Sam. “But wouldn’t he have made it look like Dean did it?”

“Yeah, which is why we need that knife. If he doesn’t have it, he can’t incriminate Dean,” you said. “At least not concretely.”

“How do we stop dad?” asked Sam.

“One problem at a time, Sam,” you said. “Now buck up. We got a job to do still.”

“Where the hell is it?” asked Sam, both of you staring dumbfounded at Dean’s room.

“I don’t…” you said, the sound of a door opening downstairs shutting you both up.

“It’s me,” said Dean, holding up his hands as you went to the top of the stairs. He lowered them when he saw you cocking your head. “Dad’s not going to check his own house for me.”

“Go to my apartment,” you said. “Hide out there. It’s safer.”

“Any luck finding it?” asked Dean.

“No. He might have it on him still. Go now Dean. We’ll do one last check and meet you there,” you said. Dean was out of the house quickly, Sam sighing as he lay on Dean’s old bed. “Sammy, we should get going soon too.”

“We both know Dad was after me. You could walk away from this,” said Sam, sitting up with a short smile. “Just go and be safe from our crap.”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand, pulling him to his feet. “I got crap too. I’m not leaving my boys.”

“Do you have a father that murdered your mother? Tried to murder you?” asked Sam with a scoff.

“Actually, yeah,” you said. Sam blinked down at you, shaking his head. “Not the time or place but yes Sam. I understand. Now let’s go.”

Sam was quiet the whole way back to your apartment, Dean poking his head out from your bedroom with a tiny wave when you got there.

“Your apartment’s nice,” said Dean.

“You climb up the fire escape?” you asked. Dean nodded, Sam going straight for your liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle. “Easy Sammy. We’re still on red alert.”

“Did she tell you her dad’s a psycho too?” said Sam, Dean pursing his lips.

“A while ago, yeah,” said Dean. “I told you mom was your fault to keep you away. I told her the same thing pretty much.”

“Only difference is…” you said, reaching for the bottle, keeping it away from Sam.

“You don’t have to tell this story, Y/N,” said Dean.

“It’s Sam,” you said with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“So what did happen?” asked Sam, hopping up on your counter, watching you slide into a barstool, Dean doing the same.

“My dad just snapped one day. We never saw it coming. He brought us down to the basement, killed her, tried to kill me and...I killed him before he got the chance,” you said.

“You...you killed him?” asked Sam.

“I might have been just a kid but a gun’s a gun,” you said. “It was self-defense but...shit stays with you.”

“But you seem so...normal,” said Sam.

“I wasn’t going to let that asshole ruin my life,” you said. “You guys aren’t going to let your dad ruin yours either.”

“Sammy, get some rest,” said Dean, stealing his undrunk glass away.

“Dean,” he said, Dean pouring the alcohol back in the bottle, putting it on the shelf. “Dean.”

“No booze from anybody. We got to be sharp and that means rest. You two have barely slept in days,” said Dean, grabbing Sam by the arm and tugging him over to your couch.

“Seriously? Now you’re going big brother on me?” asked Sam.

“Yup,” said Dean, pushing Sam down on the couch, pulling off his shoes and tossing them by the front door. He grabbed a blanket from nearby, threw it over Sam and moved one of your kitchen chairs behind your door.

“Dean, come on, I’m-”

“Sleep, Sammy,” said Dean, ruffling his hair, shutting off the light. “Come on, Y/N. Your turn.”

“Night, Sam,” you said, walking down the hall to your room, Dean smiling at you. “I don’t need to get tucked into bed.”

“I was hoping you’d let me crash in here with you. I haven’t slept on a mattress in over a week,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, patting his old side of the bed before you moved around, shredding your clothes and throwing on your pajama shirt, Dean cocking his head when you spun around to find him in his boxers and shirt. “What?”

“Is that mine?” he asked.

“Your shirts were always comfy,” you said, crawling into bed, Dean laying on top of the covers. “Dude, get under.”

“Is that appropriate?” he asked.

“We used to have sex. All the time. We can sleep under the same covers, Dean,” you said. He shifted around until he was underneath, his leg brushing up against yours as he chuckled. He moved his foot on top of yours.

“Your feet are still freezing,” he said.

“Some things didn’t change,” you said. He nodded and pulled his foot away, sliding to the edge of the bed, turning his back to you. “I forgive you.”

“What?” he said, turning onto his back, twisting his head to face yours.

“I forgive you. For what you said. For what you did. I understand and I forgive you,” you said.

“I don’t accept,” said Dean, your hand catching his arm. “I’ll never forgive myself for destroying your lives.”

“If you’d never joined the FBI, Sam and I wouldn’t have done what we did. Your dad would have gotten away with what he did and maybe one day you’d wake up with Sam gone and your dad having pinned it all on you. What would we have done then?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” said Dean, staring up at the ceiling, quiet for a long time before he spoke again. “Why do you always have to do that? Make me feel better when I just want to feel like shit?”

“It’s a skill,” you said, finding his hand and interlacing your fingers with his. “This morning, before Jack showed up...I wanted to talk to you...about us.”

“What about us?” he asked, not bothering to look at you.

“Did you maybe want to try again?” you asked.

“You know the answer to that,” said Dean.

“I asked what you want,” you said.

“I told you,” he said.

“No you didn’t,” you said.

“I am not the same person I was,” he said.

“Neither am I,” you said.

“You don’t know me,” he said.

“Deep down I do,” you said.

“Do you have any idea how screwed up I am? I’m not normal anymore,” he said.

“When have any of us ever been normal? We fit because we aren’t normal. I can deal with your crap. You can deal with mine,” you said.

“I can’t protect you,” he said.

“It’s not your job,” you said.

“Yes, it is,” he said, finally twisting his head around. “No one ever protected you.”

“No one protected you,” you said. “Are we going to do this all night, Dean? I get it. You’re different. But why did you come to me in the first place? You trusted me. If you’re going to protect me, I’m going to protect you.”

“Jack’s dying in a hospital bed. Sammy’s on his hit list. You might be next. Sam was right. I never should have brought you into this,” said Dean, swallowing thickly. “Leave and be safe. I’ll take care of Sam. We’ll find a way to catch dad. It’s not your fight, Y/N.”

You flung yourself out of bed and went to your closet, Dean sitting up, probably half-hoping you were packing up a bag and leaving. Instead you pulled out a box you’d debated throwing away half a dozen times but never could. You tore off the lid, pulling out the envelope and letter on top, tossing them over at Dean.

“Do you remember that?” you asked, Dean squinting his eyes in the dim light.

“Where did you find this?” he asked, shoving the letter back in the envelope, handing it back over.

“You packed up so quickly you forgot about that,” you said, putting the letter back in its place. “I didn’t find it until a few months later when I moved out. It was behind your dresser.”

“It’s just a letter, Y/N,” said Dean.

“No. It’s not,” you said. “Why would you write a letter like that and hide it from me? You were never good at the big romantic speeches, that’s why. You had to write it down, cross things out, make it perfect until you had it memorized and could pull it out when you finally got up the courage to ask.”

“It’s been four years,” he said. “People change.”

“I bet you could recite it word for word right now,” you said.

“I’m not-”

“You were in love with me. You wanted to marry me. You wrote a damn speech, Dean. You’re right, it’s been years. All I am asking, all I want to know right now, is if you want to start over. Do you want to try and be happy again?” you asked.

He was rigid, eyes focused on his lap but the smallest nod of his head made you crawl back into bed with him.

“Alright,” you said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. He was like putty, the tension out of his body once and for all, his head resting on your pillow, nose brushed against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I know, baby,” you said, Dean wincing like the name burned him. “It’ll be okay.”

“We need to sleep,” he said, nuzzling his body closer to yours like he could hide away in it.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Except when you woke up about six hours later, Dean was shaking you awake, hands covered in blood.

“Y/N,” said Dean, voice trembling. “S-Sammy…”

You shot out of bed, Sam taking ragged breaths on your blood covered couch.

“C-Call the police,” said Dean, shoving your cell phone in your hands. “G-Get him s-safe.”

“What-”

“I heard, I thought S-Sammy was up, so I got up to check and I saw...it had to be dad. T-Through the fire escape. He took off,” said Dean, throwing on his clothes. “I gotta run. I gotta...I gotta stop dad. No matter what. I gotta stop him.”

“Dean,” you said, watching as he ran over to Sam, running a hand over his head.

“You’re gonna be okay, Sammy,” said Dean. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“You t-think I’m gonna d-die or something,” coughed out Sam with a smile. “Go. Y/N’s g-got this. You just stop…”

“I will,” said Dean. “Y/N. Watch your fucking back until I end this once and for all.”

“Dean. If you kill...you’re giving him what he wants…” you said.

“I’ll catch him. Call an ambulance. Now. I’ll...I’ll call you when I got him cornered.”

______

A/N: Read Part 8 here!