#they’ve been brothers for a thousand years I expect them to be doing much worse

[worstloki]

Thor and Loki sharing a plate and everyone thinks it’s so weird but they are ignorant of the truth. The brothers are avoiding the need to do dishes after every meal as they can now alternate the washing

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[astaroth1357]

Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work. 

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise. 

Mammon 

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan 

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan 

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus 

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor 

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged… 

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

[frostahesmegabite]

DWC Day 1 - Reunion - Daily Writing Challenge Entry - Mega Goes Home

[ This scene takes place after a two year storyline between the FBC Guild that I’m the GM of and a personal storyline between Megahes and his Fiance, Naturasu. During this time, Megahes was cursed by a Cultist to slowly die from an agonizingly painful hex that was slowly killing him and all hope of its curing/removal was stripped away when this Cultist was killed during the conflicts. Ammaelin came to save Megahes (and acquired some ‘favors’ along the way) by using fractured shards of a Naa'ru to force Megahes into becoming Light Forged in a sense. This process took several years thanks to the manipulation of time via magic and while Mega felt the strain of three-four years of work, for everyone else it was roughly eight to ten weeks before his return. ] The Zeppelin ride to Orgrimmar was agonizingly slow, probably more than any other ride Mega had ever had on one before in his entire life. It was enough to drive him mad and the longer it took in combination with the closer it got to taking him home to Naturasu the worse it became. The goblin fidgeted, tugging at his clothes and making sure all the buttons on his shirt were done properly. His sleeves still crisp and the ironed lined still present. Hell, he even fought with the rolled up sleeves and their buttons that kept them pulled up to his biceps. The wait on returning home was killing him. What was Nat going to say when he walked in the door? This reunion between her and him played in his head a thousand times just today alone, he couldn’t even count the amount of times that he played out similar scenarios while he was away. “Nervousness does not become you Mister Frostbite.” The voice was formal and flat, its source coming from a blinding armor clad Blood Elf that stood several feet higher than himself. Crimson red hair blowing in the breeze thanks to their mode of transportation. Ammaelin, the Blood Knight who was responsible for the absence that proved to be a miraculous, and most likely a very heretical, healing process. If one could butter their bread with his smugness, one’d choke on it just from looking at him. “I’m aware, but that doesn’t make it any less. I been gone for three years now.” He quickly brings up a hand to stop the Elf, they’ve had this conversation several times before already. “And I know, I know. Months for her, for everyone else. Years only for You, Me and the others. But still years for me…” “We did what needed to be done, especially in regards to our agreement. You would have surely died otherwise.” Ammaelin’s head turns if but barely, just enough to cast a glance down upon the golden metal that was imprisoned into Mega’s flesh near his wrists. “You are lucky that you had those shards hidden away. Had any other Paladin known you held those, my brother's curse would have been the least of your concerns. I have no doubt the Church or the Draenei would have come marching on your doorstep…” Megahes’ face contorts as draws upon sarcasm to mock the Elf. “I have no doubt…” Mega blows a massive raspberry in the Paladins direction, which causes him to turn and look back upon the horizon, not giving in to Mega’s provocations. “Look. I know how risky tha thing was and I appreciate what you did and I get that I owe ya. But… all’a that aside. I’m just nervous man. What if…” He just stops and breathes, voice quivering a bit as his eyes begin to moisten, forcing him to stop and look back over the side of the Zeppelin once again. “If she doesn’t approve or she’s moved on due to thinking you dead or not coming back?” “I mean, I could have put that in better words, but yeah.” “I think perhaps you worry too much.” Megahes grumbles and sighs, running his hands up and down his face several times before they slide into his hair, where he just grabs hold of himself and pulls out of frustration only to realize he’d fucked it all up. His head shakes and he sets out to fix his hair as best he can, a nervous tick, to be sure. Mega was about to open his mouth to retort, but the Paladin stopped him by pointing to the horizon. Pandaria’s Jade

Forest. Pillars of tall stone began to rise and fall down into gorgeous forests, rolling hillsides and lily and reed filled rivers. The air was crisp and something about it just filled one's body with a rejuvenating sense of purpose and peace. “We’ll be at your domancile shortly, Mister Frostbite. I suggest you gather your things and we’ll drop you off directly.” If Mega wasn’t nervous before this, he sure as hell is now! His nearly trips… Well, he does actually, right over his own two feet and in a fluster, he looks about for something that wasn’t there before he speedily heads towards the cabins to gather his bag. He’d had this ready hours ago. It wasn’t much, he had no time to prepare for this little ‘retreat’ of his, which he was thankful for now as he threw it over his shoulder. He pauses and looks over at Ammaelin. “For as big of a pain in tha ass ya have been these past couple of years, thank ya. Truly. If it wasn’t for you and them Priests, I wouldn’t be makin’ this trip back.” Ammaelins’ face during this brief statement was a rollercoaster! Disdain and irritation appearing quickly was soon replaced with an oddly peaceful smile by the end of it. “Our time has taught us much, Mister Frostbite, about a great many topics. It has been… enlightening.” His choice of words being an intended pun and irony placed upon Mega. There were no hugs, no great exchanges of physical emotion. The two just look at one another before Mega turns and descends into the bowels of the Zeppelin so he can board the loading platform and get lowered down to his home. Their home. Gold, this was excruciating. The platform lowers slowly, painfully so, at least to him. Each inch makes Mega’s ears pound so hard that he can hear them in his ears and if it got any higher in his throat, he’d choke. “I’m gettin all nervous for nothin’, she probably ain’t even home. Probably in Orgrimmar havin’ some drinks or workin’ at the Knot.” He blows through his lips with enough strength to cause a slight whistle. Stress and worry, all self-induced of course, at how this was going to go. He was happy, no doubt, but worry came natural. The lift jerks as the ground makes contact, nearly sending him sprawling down to the floor of it just for him to look up in utter irritation, sending up a solid middle finger at the crew whether they could see it or not. “Ain’t no wonder these things fall out of tha fuckin sky so much…” He grumbles, straightening himself and clambering off before they end up actually managing to kill him somehow. Once off, the Zeppelin began to hoist the platform once more as it turned to head off towards its next stop. Mega’s red eyes watch it drift off for a moment, offering an overhead wave in case Ammaelin was on deck and looking down upon him. Given time, Mega turns away from it, looking at his pandaren styled home. The smell of the Arboretum orchids wafting through the air hit his senses and caused him to smile and for a moment, peace was welcome until he began to pick up his feet, swearing they are encased in lead the closer to home he became. Much like a scene from one of those cheesy romance books he kept hearing people go on about, he freezes at the door, hand up and ready to knock but nothing comes. No, instead he pats himself down and takes the key out of his shirt pocket and uses that instead. Quietly, creeping open the door slowly as if he expected to walk in and find his place full of cobwebs and everything cold and abandoned. The sight he gets is quite the opposite. Everything was nearly just as he left it. Albeit, more golden now. Naturasu loved her gold and it was a miracle that everything they owned wasn’t gold or khorium at this point in some facet or another. The sight brings a small smile to his face, sucking him into the house where he quietly closes the door behind him, fingers tracing over chairs and couch arms before he lets his pack slide down into the floor where it was quickly abandoned. Quietly, he walks through the house, almost scared to break the silence just to realize that that’s all there’d be

but a sudden clattering coming from the kitchen broke what he hadn’t dared. “Oh gold… what is she remodelling in there now?” It was a good question to ask! Not one that he had malice towards however, as the modifications they’d made thus far were phenomenal. His feet take him into the doorway where Nat can be seen in her usual home attire of thigh-high socks and underwear along with a set of tools, some powered and some not, as she was working on some of their retractable steps that allowed the two of them to cook shoulder to shoulder despite their obvious size differences. And it was this image that made him choke in silence and just stare at her. She was still here and all of his fears, irrational or not, just vanished and all he’s left being able to do is croak out a cough and throat clear. Nat’s voice calls out in irritation as the work clearly wasn’t going as planned. “Just leave tha rollers and frames there on the floor Sugah, thanks.” She must have thought he was someone from the Contingents Engineering or Supply Staff. Had this been any other time, Mega probably would have played into this mistake and taken up the chance to pretend to be said person and elicit some lewd scene, but, no, not today… Well, at least not right -now-. “Sorry, I uhh… must have forgotten them back at tha office. I can go back and get them if ya like.” Mega’s voice quivered in a nervousness that refused to leave his bones that were joining with both excitement and happiness. Naturasu on the other hand, froze entirely just to drop the wrench that was in her hand to the floor. Slowly, she wheeled about, perhaps not sure if she heard the voice correctly or if it was just her senses fucking with her. Whatever her reasoning, the moment her copper colored eyes hit Mega’s own crimson hues, time stood still for them both. No words came, they didn’t need them. Naturasu hit her knees and before she could even get her arms outstretched entirely, Mega was across the room, pinning himself to her and locking his own behind her in an embrace so strong that Titan Steel couldn’t have broken it if it tried. The two remained conjoined and just wept. [ Thank you again for reading my entry to the @daily-writing-challenge ! This is Day One (09/19/2021) and today's words were #Reunion and #Afterlife. I had the choice of using one or both, but decided to run with only Reunion today just in case I decide to pull out some deathly stuff later in the month. ] [ Edit Addition: I apologize if there's some formatting issues. I tried to implant a couple of images to help convey things but Tumblr just wasn't having it, so I had to remove them. I've tried to correct the errors I did find, but I may not have gotten them all. ]

[sequinsmile-x]

Empty Nest

A follow up to Full House .

Summary: Emily & Aaron raised their girls to be independent. They just wished they hadn't taken them quite so seriously.

Words: 3,140 

Read here on ao3

It was harder than she expected it to be.

Audrey had spent years talking about going to Oxford for college. Initially Emily and Aaron had thought it was just a fantasy of hers, that when the time came she would pick somewhere slightly closer to home.

Then she applied. Without telling them.

The first they knew of her application was when she got in. A scream coming from her bedroom that Emily swore shortened her life by a couple of years, indicating something had happened. Emily remembered running in, thinking she was going to find her daughter hurt or worse, and instead Audrey was crying and clearly delighted. She had thrown herself into her mothers arms and cried into her shoulder that she had got in.

Emily remembers being grateful that Audrey hadn’t been looking at her at the time, her face pressed into her shoulder instead, because it took longer than it should have for the shock to wear off. She had fixed her expression by the time Audrey pulled away, a smile on her face as her daughter excitedly said she wanted to tell Aaron.

Emily had never been so grateful for growing up in the political arena. Ever since that moment she felt as if she was barely holding herself together, different scenarios of what could happen to her daughter when she was across an ocean, thousands of miles away, but she never let it show. Until she was alone with her husband.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of Audrey. She was so proud that she could burst. She just wished that her daughter hadn’t taken the independence they had tried to instill in all of them all the way to it’s limit.

It’s how Emily finds herself in her bedroom, packing a suitcase for her and her husband as they prepare to take Audrey to England the following day. She stands, holding a shirt in her hands, as she thinks about when Audrey was small and refused to leave her side. Practically glued to her mother as often as she could be, tiny fingers digging into hair and clothing so she couldn’t be removed from Emily's embrace.

“Em?”

She turns to find Aaron standing behind her, a concerned look on his face. She folds the shirt in her hands and averts her gaze, looking at the suitcase on their bed. “Yes?”

“Are you ok?”

She throws the shirt into the suitcase. “Of course I’m not. She’s going to London.”

“Technically, she’s going to Oxford.”

“Aaron.”

He grimaces at the tone in her voice, and he knows that his attempt at humour has failed. So he goes for a different tactic. He walks over to her, wraps his arms around her waist from behind, and she automatically covers the hand he places on her hip with her own. He presses a kiss to her temple.

“She’s just like you, Em. They all are. Independent, brave. Wilful.” She pinches his hand for that, making him smile and kiss the side of her head again. “You almost went to London once.”

She narrows her eyes and turns in his arms, knowing they are about to have a conversation they’d had countless times over the years. She puts her arms around his neck. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“You would have gone if you weren’t pregnant with Ivy.”

She smiles at her husband, places a hand on his cheek. “I don’t like it when you say it that way, it makes it sound like I wouldn’t have stayed for you.”

He hums. “I don’t think Clyde has ever forgiven me for knocking you up.”

“Oh honey.” She pats his cheek, turns back to the suitcase she was packing. “He’s never forgiven you for threatening him during the Doyle situation. Me being pregnant and turning down the Interpol job was the icing on the cake.” ___________

“You guys really don’t have to come.” Audrey says, watching as Aaron checks they’ve all got their passports for the third time in five minutes. She looks to Emily, a pleading look in her eyes, and sighs when she sees the adoring amusement on her mothers face.

“Sorry sweetie, we’re coming with you.” Emily says, placing her hand on her husband’s arm to stop him checking they had all their documents yet again. “Now say goodbye to your brother and sisters.”

Emily watches as Audrey gives each of the twins a hug, promising she’ll FaceTime them as soon as she can. Cora and Hazel both hold on to their older sister tightly, their apparent aloofness towards the whole situation melting away now that Audrey was actually leaving. She moves on to Ivy, the most free with her emotions, tears streaming down her face as she hugs her sister.

She takes in a deep breath as Jack, who had come over specifically to say goodbye to his sister, hugs Audrey tightly enough to lift her off the ground. Emily was determined to not let her emotions show yet, so she clears her throat, tries to push them back down into her chest where they were blooming from. She feels Aaron’s hand press to her lower back, a silent show of comfort in front of their children.

“We’ve got to go, or we’ll be late to the airport.” Aaron says, a hesitancy to his voice she hasn’t heard from him in years.

Emily pulls Jack into a hug, and smiles when he hugs her back just as tightly. “It will be fine, Emily.” He gives her another squeeze before letting go. “And I’ll be here to make sure these two,” he says pointing at the twins, “Don’t give Ivy any trouble when you are gone.”

Ivy laughs, punching her eldest brother in the arm. She was back from college for the summer, about to go back to Harvard for her final year. “I can handle Cori and Haze.” She says looking at the twins. “Because I have dirt on them both.”

Cora and Hazel roll their eyes at the same time. “Of course you do.”

“Ok.” Emily laughs, stepping forward to hug Ivy. “We really do need to go.”

She hugs the twins at the same time, both of them wrapping an arm tightly behind her back. “Behave for your brother and sister, ok?”

“Yes, Mom.” Hazel says as she pulls back, a curious look in her eye. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

Aaron says his goodbyes too, his parting words with the twins a little more stern than hers had been, and as the front door closes behind them Emily feels like things might never be the same. ___________

Audrey holds it together the entire flight to London, and the journey to Oxford from there. Her excitement comes off of her in waves and she gasps when she sees the campus for the first time. They spend a day together, just the three of them, and they explore the place their daughter will live for the next three years.

It takes until it is time for them to say goodbye for their daughter to start to crack. The nervousness they had both seen, but dutifully ignored, under the surface starts to seep out in her fathers arms. The place she had always found solace in since she was a little girl.

He stands back and watches as Audrey and Emily hold each other tightly, neither of them seemingly willing to be the first one to let go. Eventually, Emily takes a step back from their daughter and places a hand on each of her shoulders.

“You can call anytime. I don’t care what time it is back home, just call.” She says, repeating what Aaron had said only moments before when she watched him hug their daughter goodbye. She cups Audrey’s cheek, wipes a stray tear away. “If you ever need me I’ll be on the first flight here. I’ll even use the jet from work.”

Audrey laughs through her tears, throws a look at Aaron over Emily’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow before hugs her mother tightly again. Arms wrapped around her neck in a way she hadn’t done since she was a little girl. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Emily replies, kissing the side of Audrey’s head.

They say their final goodbyes, and Emily manages to hold it together until after the door to Audrey’s dorm room closes. The sound of their daughter crying on the other side is the thing that finally pushes her over the edge after days of just about holding it together.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and maneuvers her out of the building, exchanging knowing looks with other parents as he passes them by. Mothers of other teenagers being dropped off giving Emily sympathetic looks.

He wondered how many of them were dropping off their child a whole ocean away from where they lived.

Aaron holds her in his arms the entire journey to the airport, letting her cry into his jacket as he wipes his own tears from his face.

He tips the taxi driver an extra £20 for not mentioning any of the wrought emotions he had witnessed in his backseat. _________

They get home the following day before the twins get home from school. Ivy draws both of her parents into a hug, lingering in the embrace with her mother when she sees that her eyes are slightly swollen. She keeps her sister’s occupied when they get home from school, helping them with their chemistry homework whilst her parents unpack and try to pull themselves together.

Later that evening Emily is sitting on the couch, Aaron in his study doing some paperwork that had been ignored in favour of taking Audrey to England. The TV is on, some reality tv show that she isn’t paying attention to playing in the background.

“Mom?”

She turns to see Cora standing there, a cup of what Emily assumes is hot chocolate in each hand. “Hey, honey.”

“Can I join you?”

“Of course you can.” It feels ridiculous, Emily thinks, to be so excited at the prospect of her youngest’s company. The years had gone by so quickly, melting away until she suddenly had no little ones to look after. All of her daughters, and Jack, no longer needed her so intensely, and it still made her chest ache when she thought about it too much.

Cora smiles at her, rounds the couch quickly and hands Emily one of the cups before settling next to her. Pressing up against her in a way she hadn’t since she discovered liking your parents wasn’t cool. Sneaking under the blanket Emily had over her lap so they could share it.

Emily smiles, wrapping an arm around her daughter and pulling her closer, enjoying the closeness her 15 year old will allow her for now, memories of her as a little girl who once refused to sleep anywhere except pressed up against her mothers side.

She shakes her head at herself, as if to physically get rid of the sadness that had settled over her since they had left Audrey in another country. It doesn’t work, so instead she sits with Cora and snuggles a little closer. They sit in silence, both watching the tv, sipping their hot chocolates and enjoying each other’s company.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I promise I won’t go so far away when I go to college.” She presses her cheek into Emily’s shoulder as she speaks, seeking comfort from her mother.

“Cora.” She turns to look at her, sees the unshed tears in her daughter’s eyes. She knows she’ll never say it, the twins were both closely guarded with their feelings, but she can see how much she will miss her big sister. “You need to do what’s right for you.”

Cora sniffs. “I don’t want to make you sad.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” Emily says, the moniker she hadn’t used since Cora had been a tiny little thing, scraped knees from a day in the park and tears in her eyes as she tried to be brave, slipping out without thought. “I’m your mom, no matter what happens I’ll be sad when you move out. But I’ll also be so proud.”

Cora frowns, a look on her face she knows Aaron will say is all her. She opens her mouth to speak, to argue with her mother in a way that only a teenager could, when Hazel’s voice rings out from behind them.

“Damn it, Cori.” They both snap to look at her, and she is standing there also with two mugs steaming in her hands. “I thought we said I’d do it tonight.”

Emily raises her eyebrows and looks between her two daughters, a smile appearing on her face. “What, are you two taking it in shifts to cheer me up or something?”

The twins exchange a look that they perfected years ago, wide eyes at each other as they realise they’ve been caught out in their mischief. Hazel walks over to the couch, sits next to Emily on her other side and hands her the hot chocolate.

“You were just so sad, Mom.” She says, narrowing her eyes at her twin. “We thought we would try and make it better.”

“That’s very sweet.” She pauses for a moment. “Now you’re both here, why don’t we watch a movie or something?”

They put on a Disney film, something the twins had been obsessed with when they were small and Emily had always insisted she would never watch again.

When Aaron leaves his study later in search of his girls, he finds them on the couch all fast asleep, Ivy sat on the armchair near them with an amused smile on her face. Emily was sitting sandwiched in between the twins, head resting on top of Hazel’s. Both girls curled around against Emily’s sides, their heads on her shoulders and arms wrapped around one of hers. Their dark hair all blurring into one. He sees the credits of an old favourite rolling on the tv and he turns it off before the sound of the next movie lined up would shock them awake.

He takes a couple photos of them, shoots one off to Audrey who he knows would get a kick out of it. Adds it to the favourites folder on his phone so he can treasure it.

“Mom will kill you for that.” Ivy whispers, before taking a photo on her own phone. Aaron raises an eyebrow at her. “What? It’s cute.”

It doesn’t hurt that it would also make for great blackmail material the next time one of the twins pushed the boundaries. ______________

Emily stares at a photo from their wedding day she keeps on her nightstand as Aaron gets ready for bed. It was her favourite from the day, taken by Penelope after they exchanged their vows in Dave’s backyard. Emily had a 9 month old Ivy in her arms, and Aaron had his arm around both of them. Jack was standing in front of them both, wearing a tux that matches Aaron’s, a wide grin on his face.

She smiles at the photo and thinks of how much their family had grown since then. Audrey was not planned yet, the drama of Ivy’s birth still sharp in both their minds. The twins not even an idea they had considered, the best and most welcome surprise of their lives.

“You ok?” His voice is soft as he climbs into bed, drawing an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

She sighs, cuddling into his side. “I don’t know. She texted earlier saying she missed us. It’s just...so far away.” She doesn’t miss how his hold on her tightens. “How about you?”

He hums, presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’m ok. I just want to make sure you are.”

“Aaron.” She pulls away from him, placing a hand on his neck as she does so, her thumb tracing his jaw. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve just been looking after me this whole time.” She smiles fondly at him. “It’s very sweet, and I love you for it, but she’s your little girl too.”

He sighs at that, closes his eyes as he presses his forehead against hers. “Did we have to raise them to be quite so independent?”

She laughs at that, but it catches on a sob in her chest. “Damn our superior parenting skills. Raising all these amazing, intelligent kids.”

“I know.” He replies, hand coming up to tangle in the back of her hair. “We suck.” He pulls back to look at her, sees the same watery smile on her face he knows matches his.

“We really do.”

“What if she finds some amazing English guy and falls in love with him, Em? I can’t threaten someone over there. I have no jurisdiction.”

She laughs at that, fully belly laughs and she kisses him. She doesn’t mention that he has no jurisdiction here either, since he had retired a few years ago. “God I love you. So much.” She wipes a tear away from her cheek. “She’s been there two days days, honey. Let's take it one step at a time, ok?”

“Ok.” He kisses her again. “One day it will be just the two of us.”

Her smile trembles at that, the idea of the twins being out in the world too almost too much to bear in the moment. “Let’s not worry about that yet, ok? I’m sure when the time comes we’ll think of ways to keep ourselves occupied.”

The suggestive look on her face makes him raise an eyebrow. “Are you propositioning me, Mrs Hotchner?”

She leans in, stops just far enough away from his lips to speak. “Always.” ____________

Three years later they stand proudly as Audrey graduates from Oxford. Her things were all packed up in their hotel suite so she can fly home and do her postgrad at Georgetown. Emily still remembers the relief that flooded her system when she told them of her plans to come back to the states.

They go for dinner afterwards, the whole family having flown out for the ceremony, including Jack’s fiancée. Emily looks round the table, all of her children now grown up. Cora and Hazel were due to go to college in the fall, the later going off to California, and it felt like it never got any easier.

Aaron grabs her hand under the table, linking their fingers together to get her attention. “You ok?”

She nods at him. “I’m ok. I’ve got you.” She kisses him quickly, only to be met with a chorus of disgust from her children. She pulls back and smirks at her husband

Maybe having the house to themselves for the first time wouldn’t be all bad.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 47

Title:  Truth

Warnings: profanity, slight angst, mentions of suicide attempt, depression,  mental health issues

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip​

“Esme told me. About your so-called girls trip. That it was nothing but bullshit.”

Sighing heavily, Riley leans back against one of the panes of glass; legs stretched out in front of her, arms folded across her chest. She’d only arrived an hour ago, and the initial joy and excitement of being rushed by a horde of children had been quickly replaced by frazzled nerves and nibbles of anxiety. The moment he’d approached when she’d been alone in the kitchen, she’d known it wasn’t with good intentions; the deep rumble of his voice, the tense shoulders and jaw, the increasing darkness taking over his eyes. And she’d barely gotten words of acknowledgment and acceptance out of her mouth when his fingers had curled around her upper arm and she found herself being manipulated her towards the sunroom. The door closing behind them and her brother in planting his large, strong frame directly in front of it.

She’s been witness to his ire; possessing a hair-trigger temper that’s been unleashed many times in her presence. Unsuspecting motorists in town that have come too close to his kids while in the crosswalk; profanities hurled in their direction, objects thrown at the car, a foot put through a headlight or front grill more than once. Overzealous parents at the soccer park or lacrosse field that believe their eight year old is the next athletic superstar; pacing the sidelines while screaming insults at teenaged referees and freaking out over poor play of their own kid or others on the field. Only to have a tattooed, six foot three, ‘built like a brick shit house’ coach storm across the grass to confront them on their bullshit; quietly yet intently calling them out and often physically escorting them away from the game. Or men that have the audacity to not just check his wife out, but make lewd remarks about her to their buddies or even attempt to follow her while making suggestive and highly sexualized comments. Never imagining that her husband is either just feet in front or behind her, or even across the street waiting to meet up with her. 

They always regret their decision when they see him happen upon the scene; casually and calmly greeting her with a warm -albeit brief- embrace and a chaste kiss to the lips before turning his attention to the culprits. While some will put up a good fight and try to defend their egos and their masculinity by arguing with him, most attempt to apologize their way out of the mess they created. Stammering and stumbling over their words; frazzled and intimidated and even visibly shaking from the fear of getting their asses handed to them.

She’s even unintentionally wandered into the house while Tyler and Esme have been engrossed in a blow out themselves. Shortly after his release from the hospital; the horrific and constant pain and the frustration of slower than expected healing getting the better of him and causing to snap. Nothing too serious; raised voices and cupboards being slammed and plates and utensils being angrily tossed into the sink. By BOTH parties.

While seeing the actual explosion of his temper is bad enough, it’s the lead up that tends to be the scarier. The darkening of the eyes and the cold, fixed glare. The way his shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. The visible throbbing of the vein his neck; surgically repaired twelve and a half years after a teenager’s bullet that sliced through it and nearly taken his life. And while his height and his powerful build and the myriad of tattoos and scars are intimidating to most that come in contact with him, Tyler is not a threatening person. At least not intentionally. He’s normally quiet and reserved; taking the time to sit back and watch and listen to the people and the activity around him. Thoroughly analyzing and calculating every move they make and the words that come out of their mouths; assessing whether they both pose a threat and if they can be trusted and allowed into his extremely small, tight circle. Once you get to know him, you realize that while he’s a big man, he has an even bigger heart; compassionate and patient and possessing so much love and adoration for his wife and his children. Enormously protective; wanting nothing more for them to be happy and safe. And willing to do anything and everything to keep them that way.

She has never been on THIS side of the fence; the one being targeted by that intense and unwavering gaze. Not once getting on her brother in law’s bad side; enjoying the teasing and light hearted bickering and the backhanded compliments that their relationship has been built upon. Knowing what subjects to never broach and what lines to never -under any circumstances- cross; acknowledging and respecting his triggers and always doing her best to steer clear from them. A mutual respect exists between them; Tyler grateful for the never ending support that Riley provides her sister with, and Riley ever thankful for the world that he’s created for her sister. A man that loves her so profoundly and unconditionally; making her the centre of his universe and putting everything he has and everything he is into giving her a good life. Making her a mother; something she’d wanted for years and had given up hope on when things between her and Mark had gone so wrong. A hands-on father and a partner in every possible way; devoting every spare minute he has to her and his kids and doing whatever he can to make amazing memories for all of them to carry into adulthood. She’s never seen Esme THAT happy; peaceful and content despite all of the issues that have plagued them and the rocky terrain they’ve covered together and the scarier than hell situations they’ve gone through. Somehow making her even stronger than before; resilient and phenomenally patient, yet ferociously protective when need be.

“I told her she needed to tell you,” Riley says, and nervously drums the fingernails on her right hand against the wine glass clutched tightly in her right. “That it had gone on long enough; her keeping that a secret. That you had the right to know and…”

“I had a right to know WHEN it happened,” Tyler interjects. “What I can’t figure out is why no one realized that then. Why you didn’t tell me. Why you kept it a secret.”

“She asked me not to. Said that it was better if you didn’t know. She was worried what it would do to you; putting that kind of extra worry and stress on you when you were already going through your own shit.”

“And you agreed with her?”

“No. I didn’t. I argued against it, actually. Right away I told her that it was a bad idea; keeping that kind of thing from you.”

“But....”

“But when Esme gets something into her head, it’s hard to sway her from it. You know that better than anyone. You don’t easily change her mind when it’s dead set on something. She was convinced it would be bad for you. That hearing something like that could trigger you and bring on an episode and…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“She was worried, Tyler. About the issues it might cause. And I told her that you were a lot stronger than she was giving you credit for; you were more than capable of taking care of your shit AND hers. But she was adamant to do things her way and I didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. I didn’t want to make her worse.”

“You should have called me. Right after you got off the phone with her. As soon as she told you how she was feeling, you should have hung and got a hold of me and told me what was going on.”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her, and I did. I went over to the house and I stayed with her and the kids. I did everything I could to calm her down and talk her off the edge…”

“That should have been MY job. I should have been the one to do all of that.”

“Well you weren’t exactly around, were you. You were thousands of miles away. On a job. A lot of good you could have done being all the way in Brazil. Instead of home with your family.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn this around on me. What I do for a living and how I provide for my family is none of your business. I’m not the same guy I was when I met your sister. I’m not that deep in it anymore.”

“You run a mercenary business. You may not be the one going out there and putting your ass on the line and killing people, but you’re still sending other guys to do it. Your hands aren’t clean, Tyler. Don’t pretend they are. I don’t care what you do or what you used to do. I don’t care how many lives you’ve taken or HOW you took them. But don’t act like you’re innocent. Not with your track record.”

“This isn’t about me or what I do for a living or what I send other people to do. None of that matters. That’s business. It has no bearing on my personal life. I’m not the same guy when I’m working as I am when I’m at home. When I’m a husband and a father. That’s the only thing you should give a shit about. How I treat your sister. And I love her and I will do anything to protect her.”

“You wouldn’t have to do that if you didn’t do what you do,” Riley counters. “ Do you ever stop and think about that? How you wouldn’t have this fear of something happening to her or someone hurting her if you weren’t who you are?”

“I wouldn’t have met Esme if I wasn’t who I am. You seem to forget that part. That she was in it just as much as I was. That she was working WITH me. She’d been in the game for a while; before she ever met me. So she’s not entirely innocent herself, is she. If she had been, she never would have shown up on my doorstep that day. I never would have laid eyes on her. There’d be no us and there’d be no kids. And your sister and those kids? Best damn things that ever happened to me.”

“I don’t deny that. Same way I don’t deny how much you love her. Or that you’d do anything for her. But she asked me to keep it a secret. She wanted to protect you.”

“And you just went along with it.”

“Against my better judgement, yeah, I did. I didn’t call you because I didn’t need your help. I had it under control. I got her calm and off the ledge and…”

“I should have been the one doing all of that. And if you’d just called me…”

“And what? What would you have done? What could you have possibly said that would have been any better than what came out of my mouth? Look, I understand; I get why you’re pissed. She shouldn’t have lied to you. And I told her that.”

“ You should have never kept that from me. You should have told me what happened. The things that she said. That she was that bad off. That she was going to hurt herself.”

“I don’t think she was going to do it. I think she was anxious and panicking and scared and,...”

“It doesn’t matter if she was going to do it or not!” he argues. “The fact she even said it is bad enough. And you should have told her you weren’t going to lie for her. You should have told her to fuck off when she even brought up this bullshit of wanting to protect me. And you should have called me and told me and I would have come home. Right away.”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her and keep it a secret and I did. Because she’s my sister.”

“She’s my wife!” he snarls. “The mother of my children. And I’m sorry if it pisses you off that both those things trump her being your sister. Don’t even compare the two. I’m her husband. I had every goddamn right to know what happened!”

“You did,” Riley admits. “But I’ll hold firm that it wasn’t my place to tell you.”

“My wife tells you that she wants to kill herself and you don’t think it’s your place to tell me that? What if you weren’t around, Riley? What if you didn’t live right next door? Or even in Australia.? What if she hadn’t been able to call you for help?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because I DO live there.”

“It fucking matters to me. What if she’d tried to call you and couldn’t get a hold of you? What then? What if she had decided to go through with it? You know what have happened? One of my kids would have found her. They would have wondered why mummy wasn’t up in the morning to make them breakfast and get them off to school. And they would have gone in there and found her. Dead. Kids, Riley. MY kids.”

“I never thought of that. I never…”

“Do you know what that would have done to them? Finding their mother like that? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up for the rest of their life? If they’d seen that?”

Struggling to hold back a flood of tears, she takes a swallow of wine in an attempt to wash away the lump of emotion threatening to choke her. “I just never considered all of that.”

“I know what it’s like to lose your mother. At a really young age. It screwed me up. And it continues to screw me up; everything that came after it and all the bullshit I went through because of my father. And the way I lost her? That was bad enough. But it would have been nowhere like how my kids would have lost their mother.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I never…”

“I had a right to know. As soon as she told you how she felt and what was going through her head? You should have called me. I would have been on the next plane home. There is nothing in this world that is more important than her. Nothing.”

“I know that. I know how you feel about her. I see it every time you look at her. The way you smile at her and always find little ways to touch her. The way you watch her when she talks. I’ve always seen that. And you’re right; I should have called you. But my main concern was taking care of her. Making sure SHE was okay. I did what she asked.”

“What stopped you from telling me after you got her settled? Once you realized she was going to be okay. What stopped you from calling me? Some stupid fucking promise you made to her?”

“It wasn’t a stupid fucking promise. She was trying to protect you. She didn’t want to put it on you. Didn’t want to take the risk of it causing you issues. And I have to say, I agreed with her. To an extent.”

“I’m not some fragile fucking piece of china you have to coddle and keep away from everyone. I’m a grown ass man. And I may be messed up and have mountains of shit I deal with every day, but I am more than capable of taking care of your sister. Of my wife.”

“I know. I know you are. And I’m sorry that it came out this way. That she waited this long to tell you. I’m sorry that…”

“Don’t.” Tyler holds up a hand to silence her.. “Don’t do that. Don’t put all the blame on her. I get where she’s coming from; she’s neurotic and she worries about me and she’s got it in her head that she needs to protect me the same way I do her. Doesn’t matter how many times I tell her I don’t need it or that I don’t want her doing it; she’s going to go ahead with it anyway. But you? Going along with that? When you know what she means to me? How can you stand here and defend this? Act like it’s no big deal that you kept this from me? What the fuck, Riley?”

“I said I was sorry. That you had to find out this way. That it took this long. What more do you want from me?”

“How about admitting you fucked up? That you never should have gone along with it. That you should have called me. How about admitting all THAT?”

“Let’s get something straight, Tyler. You’re not my boss. I’m not one of your ‘guys’. You don’t dictate how I do things. You don’t question my decisions. You don’t chastise me for ‘bad behaviour’. I love you. I think you’re a great guy. In the same way I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Me-Me. I think you’re an amazing husband and an even better father. But you’re my brother in law. That’s it. I have no ties to you other than through my sister and my nieces and nephews. My loyalty lies with Esme. First and foremost. And I’m sorry that you think this is some horrible betrayal. I did what my sister asked. That’s it.”

“What you did was wrong. And you fucking know it. We aren’t just talking about some girl, Riley. We’re talking about my wife. The mother of my children. My SEVEN children. The woman that I love more than anything in this world. Who I love more than I ever thought I could love another human being. Who saved my life. And if you can’t understand why you should have told me…”

A knock comes to the door, followed by the rattling of the handle .“Dad?” TJ’s voice from the other side. “Can I come in?”

“Not right now, mate. Auntie Riley and I are talking about some stuff. That little ears don’t need to hear.”

“Mum wanted me to check on you. To make sure you were alright. You’ve been a little...off...for a few days.”

“Tell your mum I’m okay. That there’s nothing for her to worry about.”

“Yeah...right…” TJ scoffs. “This is mum we’re talking about. She worries no matter what. You think you’d be used to it by now. You’ve only been married to her for like a hundred years.”

“Twelve,” he informs his son. “In October. Feels like it’s been a hundred years some days.”

“I won’t tell her you said that. I know how much you hate sleeping on the couch. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Teej. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Go and get washed up for dinner, okay? Make sure your brothers and sisters do too. Food will be here soon.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“You’re gettin’ as bad as your mum. I’m fine. Everything’s good. Go and do as I said. Tell mum I won’t be much longer.”

“Alright,” TJ reluctantly agrees, and Tyler waits until he hears him walk away; heavy, stomping footsteps across the kitchen floor as he shouts the information from one end of the house to the other.

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree when it comes to this,” Riley says, and downs the remains of her wine. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you. That my main priority was my sister and not calling you.”

“For the last time, your sister is my wife. And my main priority is her. Twelve and half years. That’s how long I’ve been with her. That’s how long I’ve been going through hell and back with her. FOR her. You don’t even know the half of what we’ve been through together. The crap that we’ve dealt with. I’m the one that’s been there; by her side through every fucking shitty thing that’s been thrown us. I’m the one that’s gotten her through a lot of hard times. The one that’s talked her down and kept her calm. Who’s been stepping up and being there for her no matter what I’m going through. So don’t you stand here and tell me that I couldn’t have done a better job than you when it comes to taking care of MY wife .”

“I could have been there for her too, you know. And I would have been had you NOT moved her all the way to the other side of the goddamn world.”

“You know who you sound like right now? When you say that? I’ll give you three guesses but you’re only going to need one.”

Riley scowls. “Don’t you even go there. I am nothing like her. I’m the one that accepted you into the family. I’m the one that saw how good you were with her. FOR her. I’ve always been on your side, Tyler. Even when everyone else was against you and I ended up getting alienated for it. Kicked out of my own family because I always defended you. Because Esme was happy and in love with you and I could tell you felt the same way about her.”

“So you were on my side. So what? You want some kind of award for it? A fucking cookie? You were a kid, Riley. You weren’t even a senior in high school when we moved to Colorado. You had no clue what happened. Why we had to leave Australia, how we were broke as fuck and ended up living in your folks’ basement. It broke your sister’s heart to leave. We didn’t have much, but we were happy there. Happier than either of us had been in a long time. She had someone that loved her and a beautiful baby girl and she didn’t want much more than that.”

“You’re right. I don’t know the details. I don’t know the reason you guys came back. I WAS a kid. And totally absorbed in my own world. But it didn’t mean that I didn’t care about my sister. Or miss her. That I wasn’t glad she was back.”

“She never wanted to go back to Colorado. That was all me. All my idea. And she went along with it and she tried to make the best of it and it nearly fucking destroyed us. You have no clue how bad things got. The issues that being there caused. How close we came to ending everything. All she ever wanted was to be back in Australia. She would cry about it at night; tell me that she wasn’t happy and that she was worried being back in the States was going to destroy us. And it came close. So fucking close.”

“I didn’t know that. I know that you had some problems. That you started drinking again and got back into the job and the pills and…”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know. That we’ve kept back. From everyone connected to her family. I didn’t just move your sister to the other side of the world. I gave her what she wanted. I busted my ass to make it happen; to get her back there. To get her home. Because that’s where she wanted to be. So don’t fucking pretend you know what we went through and don’t ever accuse me of taking her away from you. Because that’s not what happened. That’s just what you’ve been told.”

“It is,” she admits. “That’s exactly what I was told. I mean, I knew most of it wasn’t true. I knew you weren’t controlling or abusive and that you didn’t force her to go back. I knew you weren’t that kind of guy. But I WAS a kid. And still stupid enough to believe most of the bullshit that was being fed to me.”

“When I say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your sister, I mean it. They aren’t just empty words. I’m not just saying it to hear myself talk or to make her feel better. I say it because it’s one hundred percent true. And had you called me, I would have been on the first flight home. I would have said ‘fuck the job’ and got on the next plane out of there. So I could help my wife.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I SHOULD have called you. But I was so worried about her and I thought what I was doing was right for her.”

“You played a really dangerous game with my wife’s life. Do you realize that? How badly it all could have backfired on you? How one little thing could have set her off? If you’d just called me, I could have talked her down. I could have gotten her off that ledge. A lot easier and a lot quicker than you did.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t…”

“I DO know that. Because I’m the one that she needed. I’ve always been the one she’s needed. And that’s not just going to stop. Not until I’m dead and buried and I can’t do it anymore. What she wanted at that time and what was best for her, were two totally different things. And the fact you didn’t realize that? That you played this fucking game with her life?”

“That’s not what I was trying to do. At all. I thought I was doing what was best for Esme. That’s what we both want, right? To do what’s best for her?”

“That wasn’t what was best for her. That was possibly the WORST thing for her. I know she’s your sister, but I’ve shared a life with her for more than a decade now. I think I know her a hell of a lot better than you do.”

“Of course you do. What the two of you have? That love? That bond? That’s way more than she’s ever had before. With anyone.”

“Don’t ever play a game like that again, Not when it comes to Esme. You have no idea what it would do to me to lose her. What it would do to my kids. HER kids. So don’t you ever again underestimate my ability to take care of my wife. Don’t you EVER get in between me and her again.”

Riley approaches him; slowly and cautiously, palms raised in both surrender and a plea for calm. “That is NOT what I meant to do. I would NEVER do that. I wasn’t trying to cause issues between the two of you. I was trying to help her. That’s it.”

“Well you almost made an even bigger mess, so…” his words trails off and he takes a step back when she attempts to embrace him. “...don’t do that. Don’t touch me. We’re not back at that point. We won’t be for a while. I’m not the kind of guy that just hugs it out, you know?”

“I’m trying here, Tyler. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. For the lie to get as far as it did. I told her to tell you. I told her…”

“Oh my god…” he chuckles and shakes his head incredulously. “...you just don’t get it. You either didn’t listen to a goddamn word I said or you don’t give a fuck. You never should have went along with it. It’s as simple as that. You should have called me. So I could take care of my wife. But you didn’t. You fucked up. You caused all of this. Don’t put all the blame on her. I won’t let you do that.”

“Can we at least agree that we both want what’s best for her? That even if we DO make mistakes, all that we really want is what’s best for Esme?”

“I think that’s one thing we CAN agree on.”

“And can we go out there and at least pretend to be friends? I don’t want to make things worse on her. You know she’s struggling. That she’s having a really hard time right now. Can we at least do our best to not make things harder for her?”

“Yeah…” he nods. “...I can do that.”

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t think things through better. But I really did think I was handling it fine. That I was doing what was best for her. For my sister.”

“I know what’s best for her. For my wife. Even more than she does. So I appreciate your help, but I think you need to step back and realize that you don’t know shit. Not when it comes to this kind of thing. Next time...and I hope to hell there isn’t a next time...you call me. Regardless of what she says.”

“I will,” she promises. “I definitely will.”

“This ends here. What we talked about, the things that were said. She doesn’t need to know. It’s better if she doesn’t. If she asks, we had a heated discussion and disagreed on a lot but we got through it. What really happened doesn’t go further from this room. Understand me?”

Riley nods.

“Don’t you ever question my loyalty or my ability to take care of my wife,” he warns, then turns on his heel and heads for the door.

*****

It’s shortly after midnight when she hears his footfalls on the stairs. The sound familiar and comforting; the slight drag of the right leg, the soft creaks as wood shifts and flexes under his weight. Three hours ago he’d gone upstairs to tend to the kids’ bedtime routines; keeping the older yet easily distracted ones on track, giving the littlest their baths and combing out the girls’ hair and helping them into their pyjamas. Since her confession earlier in the day, he’s been even more hands on and attentive than usual. Practically glued to her side and quick with the affection; spontaneous hugs or arms wrapped tightly around her from behind, gentle fingers combing through her hair and tucking it behind her ears, kisses pressed to her forehead or temple or corners of her mouth. Insisting on either helping her with things around the house or refusing to do anything at all; ordering to sit back and relax and let him and the kids take care of her for a change.

While it had been both welcome and appreciated, she’d also been well aware that he’d been overcompensating. Her admittance to thoughts of self harm and suicide not doubt a kick to the gut; opening his eyes to just to the depths and the extent of her own issues, and feeding into his number one fears. It’s always been his worst nightmare; losing her unexpectedly and to something he could have controlled, or at least prevented. Illness and an accident on the road are horrific in their own way; a disease that eats away at her and eventually kills her, or something that suddenly and unexpectedly occurs and snatches her out of his life. But to lose her to something he could have stepped in and stopped is completely unacceptable in his eyes. An assailant he could have fought off or at least prevented from getting closer to her. An action by her own hand would be something he’d never considered. In twelve and a half years she’s never spoken of harming herself; the one who’d had to stop him from taking his own life.

It had definitely blindsided him; how close he’d come to losing her and never even realizing there’d ever been the potential of it. And not being told sooner had devastated him. She’d seen the pain in his eyes; the hurt and the anger and the feeling of betrayal. He’s always stepped up and taken care of her regardless of his own issues and suffering; pushing everything aside to focus solely on her and what she needs.

Her not relying on him in the moment had done more damage than actually carrying on the lie. HE should have been the one she called. Confident he would have been able to calm her down and talk her off the ledge; giving him the time to get home and concentrate on her problems and her needs. And he would have done it; abandoned the job in favour of returning to Australia and focusing solely on her. But she hadn’t been in her right frame of mind; immediately believed that she had to protect HIM.

She definitely regrets THAT decision. And for keeping it a secret as long as she did.

“Hey,” she greets, looking up from the tablet resting on her thighs as he reaches the bottom landing. Clad in a pair of shorts made from cut up sweats and an old and tattered muscle shirt; the fabric littered with messes composed of dried paint, tiny hand prints infused with glitter, and stains made by various baby ‘accidents’ over the years. Hair messy and sticking up in several different directions; a pout curving his lips and the heels of his palms pressing into his weary eyes.

Twelve and half years later and he still brings about so many emotions and reactions. From lust to adoration to love and even melting because of moments of sheer adorableness; this big -and often intimidating- heavily tattooed man that possesses the strength and know how to kill with his bare hands often so cute and pure that her heart -and her hormones- can barely handle it.

“Hey,” Tyler says in return, pausing to lock the front door and set the alarm before switching off the foyer light and padding into the living room. “You’re awake.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you. You’ve been up there for a hell of a long time. I wasn’t sure if you’d crashed hard or been abducted by aliens. Or if you were just avoiding me. Like the plague.”

“Well I’m happy to report that no aliens showed up and anally probed me.”

“Your worst nightmare,” she grins. “Anyone getting anywhere near your ass.”

“I let you near my ass.”

“Let me rephrase it. Anyone exploring your ass with more than a finger.”

“First off, you’re disturbing. Second, I had three little ones fall asleep on me. Before that, one story turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into a dozen. Can you maybe burn all the copies of Goodnight Moon? Can they mysteriously disappear? Because I have been reading that damn thing almost every night for almost twelve years. What’s left of my sanity can’t take it anymore.”

“You know, instead of resorting to burning books, you could always say no to your children.”

"Yeah, not gonna happen.” He drops down heavily beside her. “I did crash, by the way. In Addie’s bed. I just woke up about ten minutes ago. She kicked me right in the nuts. Good thing you don’t want anymore kids.”

“There’s something so cute about that.”

He frowns. “About her kicking me in the balls?”

“No. About you falling asleep there. This big, burly guy with all his tattoos and scars totally crashed in a frilly canopy bed fit for a princess. I would have LOVED a picture of that.”

“Sorry to disappoint. None exist. You don’t get a chance to publicly humiliate me on social media. Not on this night, anyway.” Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, then stretches out his legs and places his bare feet on the coffee table. “And why would I have been avoiding you? What would be the reason for that?”

“Well I did fuck up. HUGE. And I did hurt your feelings. And offend you. All at once.”

“We talked about it. We said shit we needed to say. It’s done. Over with. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and slides closer to him on the couch; tucking her feet under her body as she snuggles into his side. “Let’s.”

Wrapping an arm around her petite frame, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What are you doing?”

“Looking up ideas for the backyard.” She holds the tablet up for him to see; an image of a tiny cottage made of distressed white wood and boasting a shingled roof and a sunlight and pink shutters on the windows. “We finally have the opportunity to totally concentrate on it. All the renos out of the way, all the garages and the granny flat are built, the pool house has been redone. Now we can work on other things. What do you think? It’s a she shed. I would LOVE a she shed.”

“That’s what they’re actually called? I’ve been calling them bitch barns.”

“You would,” she frowns, and he chuckles when she digs an elbow into his ribs. “Think you could build it?”

“Shouldn’t be hard. I’ve built a lot more complicated. And if you really DO want one, I’ll get on it. Soon as we get home.”

“I really do. Want one.”

“Then a bitch barn you shall have.”

She scowls.

“She shed,” he quickly corrects. “A SHE SHED you shall have.”

“And I was thinking a fire bowl. For the corner of the first floor deck. Closest to the pool. One of those propane ones. With the coloured glass stones. We could build a seating area around it, maybe get another swing to hang near it.”

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. Just buy what you need or give me a list and I’ll take care of it. You know I really don’t care about this kind of stuff. I mean, it’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I trust you and you always pick out nice shit and it always looks great when it’s done.”

“You really ARE the best husband on earth,” Esme declares, and presses a kiss to the side of his neck; lips covering the scar long ago left behind by Farhad’s bullet and the surgery to repair the vein.

Smiling, he gives her hip a gentle squeeze and then runs her palm over her ribs and up onto her arm. Tightly clasping her shoulder as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I try. All I wanna do is make my girl happy. And if what makes her happy is making the house look nice and wanting it to be beautiful and comfortable for all of us, then I’ll do whatever she needs me to do to make that all happen.”

“You DO trust me,” she chides, and leans forward to set the tablet on the coffee table before once more snuggling into him; arms circling his waist and her head resting on his chest. “How do you know I’m not going to buy stuff you’ll hate? That I’m not going to go crazy with the pastels? Or pink? Addie would LOVE that. We do share a favourite color, after all.”

“First of all, I know how much you love colour. The brighter the better. Second, you’d never do that; just buy stuff that you’ll like. You’ve NEVER done it. Not once in the past twelve and a half years. If you know I’ll hate, you won’t do it. That’s just not how you work.”

“Damn it,” she grumbles, and playfully pinches the sensitive area below his right ribcage. “That’s what I get for being so predictable.”

“It’s not that you’re predictable. It’s just that I know you. Very well. Better than you know yourself sometimes. Isn’t that kind of our ‘thing?’. Knowing one another better than we know ourselves?”

“Been our thing since almost day one. It’s kind of weird, don’t you think? As screwed up and as damaged as we were, we just...I don’t know...took to each other.”

“Is that before or after I tried to choke you out?” he chides.

“It was almost like we’d known each other for years. We knew what the other was thinking, we could express things to one another without even using words. We trusted each other. And it’s not like trust came easily to either of us. But for some reason, we knew we could. We had faith in one another.”

“My instincts told me you were good people. That I COULD trust you. And what do you always say? About how good my instincts are?”

“You have incredible instincts. They’ve never lied to you. At least not as long as I’ve known you. I have to say…” she grins up at him “...I’m quite happy that they thought I was good people.”

“It’s pretty safe to say I’m happy about that too.” Giving her shoulder another squeeze, Tyler slides his arm further up and wraps it around her neck, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her. Nothing urgent nor intense; fingertips and the pad of his thumb repeatedly grazing along her jaw as his lips move slowly and sinuously against hers. Her eyes still closed when he pulls away; the bridge of her nose wrinkling when he presses a kiss to the tip of it. “I feel like ice cream,” he announces. “Want some ice cream?”

“Hmmm…” She tilts her head to the side, crinkles on the bridge of nose deepening as she considers it. “...cheese toast.”

“And ice cream?”

“Why not? You only live once. Do you think we could have sex afterwards? My cramps went away and my period isn’t due for two weeks, so…”

“We can have sex first and then cheese toast and ice cream?”

She frowns. “Naww. Cheese toast first.”

“Are you telling me you’re picking cheese toast over having sex with your husband? Do you realize how hurtful that is? How offended I am?”

“I’m sorry! You know there’s anything in this world that’s better than sex with you. Nothing. But I’m hungry. And...well...this is cheese toast we’re talking about. You know how much I love cheese toast.”

“You claim to love ME, but I dunno…”

Her fingers fidget with loose strands of thread on the neckline of his tank. “Don’t be like that. You damn well know that I love you. Don’t want me at full strength? You don’t want me running on an empty tank do you? Because then I’ll get tired easily and I won’t be at my best and…”

“Won’t bother me. Your best is only at a B plus.”

“B plus! You asshole!” She aggressively ruffles his hair, then laughs when he curls an arm around her waist and dumps her onto her back. “You’re mean,” she dramatically pouts, as he places a foot on the floor and a knee on the couch beside her; palms above her head and pressed flat against the cushion as he looms over her.

“The meanest. But you know what?” He places a small peck on each corner of her mouth, then her lips. “I will still make you your goddamn cheese toast.”

“I knew you loved me,” she says, and then curls two fingers around the chain that dangles around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Long and deep and intense; legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles locking together at the small of his back.

He grins down at her. “So is this a yes to having sex BEFORE cheese toast and ice cream?”

“It’s a promise to have sex with you AFTER cheese toast and ice cream.”

“Don't do me any favours,” he grumbles playfully, kissing her a final time before reaching around to pry her ankles apart. “You know….” he grimaces at the stiffness in the small of his back as he stands. “...you’re damn lucky you’re so cute. That I love you as much as I do.”

“Yes. Yes I am,” she agrees, and slides off the couch and follows him through the living and dining rooms and into the kitchen. Lending a hand by gathering bowls and spoons from the drainboard next to the sink; carrying them to the island and then perching on the edge of one of the barstools. “They’re all asleep? All the beasts?”

“Every last one. Even Millie and Alannah crashed earlier than usual. That’s a nice change; none of their bloody laughing and raiding the fridge and waking me up at three am.”

“We’re going to have to think about where she is going to go when we get back home. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to keep those two in the same room. I would like to have some semblance of sleep. All the square footage we added and all the rooms we made, and suddenly there is no room at the inn.”

“Could always clean out the garage and make another bedroom in there. It’s only going to be temporary, yeah? She’s not staying with us forever. I hope. I love the kid, but…”

“What about the granny flat? We added one above the new gym but it hasn’t been used yet. Could put her in there.”

“She’s eleven. We are NOT giving an eleven year old her own apartment.”

“What about the den? Downstairs. It WAS a guest room at one point in time. That’s where you stayed. After Dhaka Part Two.”

“I kind of already told Tanner he could use that for his science experiments.” He gives her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“We could always put Brookie in with Addie. I’d say the other way around, but Addie will not give up her princess room. For ANYONE. I don’t even want to attempt trying to convince her to. Brookie won’t give a shit. She’s not attached to things like Addie is. She’d sleep out on the hammock every night if we let her.”

“She’d also do anything for Addie. She told me that Peanut’s her best friend. That that’s why she even agreed to tag along to the American Girl thing. Because Addie is her bestie and she asked Brookie to go with her.”

“One upside to having them close together. Friends for life. Unless one of them turns into a total dick head and completely ruins things.”

“I highly doubt either of our girls are going to turn into ‘he who shall not be named’. Things were always toxic when you were growing up. Our kids aren’t in that same kind of environment. We’re making damn sure of it. We aren’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but…”

“But we aren’t totally fucking up our children. We’re actually giving them a good home. A healthy one. Which is kind of surprising considering most behaviour is learned and neither of us grew up with the healthiest of parent child relationships.”

“We just went the opposite way. Instead of turning out like what we knew, we made sure we didn’t.”

“A lot of people aren’t that lucky, you know. A lot fall into the same patterns. Repeat the same mistakes.”

“Well we aren’t a lot of people, are we. I think we’ve shown that a time or two.”

“Do you remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can’t come together and make a whole?”

Tyler frowns. “I try NOT to remember anything he said.”

“He said that they’d only make things worse. Make EACH OTHER worse. I like to think he was wrong.”

“He was wrong about a lot of things. Not just that. Take it from the source, babe. Don’t take anything he said to heart.”

“He seemed a little too invested in what was going on between us. What was it to him? What did it matter whether we were hooking up or not?”

“He was just worried I’d get distracted. That I’d let my feelings take over and forget everything else.”

“More like he was worried your dick would run the show. Not your head. And that would be dangerous.”

“Something like that.”

Popping two pieces of bread into the toaster, he pushes down the level and then turns his back towards it; facing his wife as he leans back against the counter. He’ll never tell her the whole truth; Gaspar attempting to convince him that she was simply using him as a way out of Dhaka. That ‘putting out’, showering a profoundly damaged and lonely man with affection and want, and promising an attempt at a future would guarantee her his full attention ; that he’d stop at nothing to make sure she survived the ordeal. Even before Gaspar had shown all his cards and brought up the ten million dollar deal, Tyler hadn’t believed a word of what he was saying. He hadn’t been in that cramped and squalid hotel room. He didn’t hear the deep and intense conversations that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning; the confessions made and the fears talked about and the tears shed. It hadn’t been just sex. A connection had been made and a foundation laid down. Wrong place, wrong time. Perhaps a little too quick by society’s standards. But it had been nothing like Tyler had ever experienced. And he’d felt no need to either explain that to Gaspar, or defend it.

“Did he say anything to you? About me?”

“Other than he thought I was thinking with the wrong head? No. Not a damn thing.”

“Just the offer.”

Tyler nods.

“He didn’t say anything about me? Even leading up to that? Seems weird. That he’d just bring the offer up out of nowhere.”

“What does it matter? It’s almost thirteen years ago. Why are we even talking about it? About HIM? None of that should matter anymore.

“Just some things made me think about it. Shit that he said to me. When he cornered me in the upstairs. I don’t know what brought it up. Sometimes it happens; it hits me out of nowhere. But you’re right…” She sighs heavily and manages a smile. “...it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it makes you a little testy. Even now. What he did.”

“He’s dead. That’s what he deserved. Makes no sense to go back and dig him up.”

“It doesn’t,” she agrees, and then thankfully changes the subject. “You know, I really need to get my shit together. We go back home in five days and I have done nothing to prepare for it. I’m usually so far ahead of the game by now. Do you realize how much has to be packed away? Things I need to box up and have shipped because we won’t be able to take everything on the plane?”

“Do you realize you’re not the only adult in the house and there’s someone fully prepared to help out? WE have a lot to do. Not just you. We’ll start today.”

“You have your little shopping trip with Desi today,” she reminds him. “No way are you skipping out on that. He’s been going on and on about it for DAYS. He will legit ugly cry if you bail on him.”

“Then we start when I get back. Doubt I’ll be gone that long. You’ve gone shopping with me. In and out in half an hour.”

“You are in for a rude awakening. Going shopping with Desi is a whole other experience in itself. That man LOVES his fashion and his bling and he doesn’t go home until he’s exhausted every square inch of his favourite stores. Takes him half an hour just to decide what side of the store to start on first.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“He wants to play dress up with you. Use you as his little doll. He sees the potential. He’s going to get you into some three thousand dollar suits and some skinny jeans and…”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I wear skinny jeans. What is wrong with the way I dress?”

“Nothing. I don’t care what you wear. You look good in whatever you put on. That being said, I prefer when you’re taking your clothes OFF…”

“I don’t want to be his little plaything. His science experiment. Why can’t I just be who I am? Why do I have to change? As long as you’re not complaining…”

“Like I said, I don’t care what you wear. You always look good. But Desi wants to do this with you. He wants to dress you up and make you look good. Fashionable. He wants to see you in some Huge Boss and some Gucci and some Tom Ford.”

“I’m more comfortable in shit from Target.”

“Just humour him. He’s got amazing fashion sense. It won’t hurt to have a few of Desi’s staples and favourites in your closet. And personally? I’d kill to see you in a pair of skinny jeans. They’d make your ass look incredible. Or even more incredible than it already is. Not to mention you’ve got those crazy, long ass legs.”

“Why don’t you just cut to the chase and say you want me to buy a pair? Because if you want me to…”

“Nope. Has to be your decision. I’m not telling you what to do. But I will say the thought of you in skinny jeans? Totally makes me hot for you. Hotter than you usually make me, And that’s pretty damn hot.”

He stares at her pointedly, then returns to spreading thick layers of Cheese Whiz on two pieces of toast.

“Just saying. They would. Did I not go out and buy TWO sexy outfits for you? To wear on New Year's Eve? Not just one, babe. TWO. And believe me, they are way out of my comfort zone. But it’s what you wanted so I went and found ones I thought you’d find incredibly hot. And just might make you self combust in record time.”

“I’m not supposed to do that until AFTER I get you out of the outfits.”

“You said sexy, so I got sexy. And think about it. Think about how hot you make me on a regular basis. Extremely hot, right? So if I say you in skinny jeans would make me even MORE hot…”

“So if I put them on whenever I want sex, I’ll immediately get it?”

Esme nods. “More than likely.”

“And if I want to add to my mile high club points, I just need to wear them on the plane?”

“If your children aren’t there, yup.”

“Fine.” He sets the plate of toast down in front of her. “I’ll get the damn skinny jeans. But I don’t ever want to hear you say I never do anything nice for you.”

“I never say that to begin with, so…” she tilts her face up towards him, hand on his hip as he leans down to peck her lips.

She never tires of it. The random embraces; wrapping his arms around her from behind while she stands at the stove or the washing machine or while standing in front of the bathroom sink brushing her teeth. Curling an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly into his side during their walks on the beach or always taking her hand while strolling through town. The little unexpected kisses; placed up on her temples or cheeks or the corners of her mouth or dropped onto the top of her head. Even at the dinner table or while sitting on the couch he always finds a way to maintain physical contact; sides of thighs touching or a foot resting against hers, shoulders or elbows lightly pressed together. It had taken years for him to open up to both accepting and giving affection; a childhood wracked with horrendous abuse and no love shown, a first marriage whose novelty had worn off quick and gone cold and stale, years building up walls around his heart to avoid connecting with anyone and therefore preventing the brutal sting of loss.

Out of nowhere it had all come together, and the change in him was like night and day. He didn’t initially stiffen up when embraced and became quick with the touches and the hugs and the kisses. Suddenly comfortable with both verbal and physical expressions of adoration and love. Now she cherishes every single moment of it. Knowing how far he’s come and how hard he’s had to work; so willing to sacrifice personal comfort to be the kind of man he felt she wanted, needed, AND deserved.

“You’re kinda cute, you know that,” she comments, biting into a slice of toast as she watches him; the way the muscles in his arms bulge and twist with even the simple task of scooping ice cream. It never gets old. Seeing the way his body moves and how it feels under her fingertips; hard muscle and smooth skin that boosts a handful of scars of various shapes and sizes.

He casts a grin over his shoulder. “Just kinda?”

“Very cute,” she declares. “And hot. And sexy. And oh so fuckable.”

“All those things rolled into one, huh?”

“You’re quite the catch,” she says, leaning back against him when he stands behind her stool; tilting her head back and smiling up at him as he reaches past her body to set the bowls on the counter. “I lucked out. I knew you had potential. The day I met you in your little shack. I knew a good thing when I saw it.”

“I was half in the bag and feeling pretty damn good from Oxy. Hardly a good thing.”

“Please, you looked so freaking hot. With that shirt tight around your arms and your kick ass haircut and your blue eyes and your nice butt. You know what was REALLY sexy? When your hair would fall across your forehead. That did funny things to my insides.”

“Just back then or…?”

“Still does it to me even now.” She reaches up to push the wayward tresses off her forehead, smiling when he presses a line of kisses down the bridge of her nose. “And I don’t care what you say. You ARE cute. We’re going to forever agree to disagree on this one, But I did, you know. See the potential in you.”

“Let me guess. It was all in my eyes?”

“And your smile. The way you smiled at me was...I don’t know...different. Than the way anyone else ever smiled at me.”

He sidles up beside her, snagging one of the spoons and digging into his ice cream. “Something tells me you’ve had a lot of guys smile at you.”

“Not a lot. A few. But none of them have ever smiled at me the way you do.”

“That’s because they don’t love you. I do.”

“You didn’t love me when you first smiled at me. It was still a different kind of smile.”

“That was a ‘damn she’s cute, I wouldn’t mind banging her’ smile.”

She gives a derisive snort.

“What? You WERE cute. In those little shorts and that tank top and your piercings and your ink. I was impressed. And for the record, I DID want to bang you. Right away. You were fresh meat.”

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes and tears a piece of toast off with her teeth.

“You were. I’d never seen you before. You just showed up on my doorstep. Like this little present being delivered just for me. And I hadn’t sex in four months, so….”

“Poor baby. My heart bleeds for you.”

“You were a new face, had a wicked little body on you, a tongue ring. Is it any wonder why I wanted to rail you?”

“That’s all I was to you. Fresh meat. A new piece of ass.”

“At first. But then I got to know you and everything changed. Very quickly, I might add.”

“It was rather quick,” Esme admits. “Do you ever regret it? How quickly it DID happen?”

“What guy in their right mind is going to regret banging you?”

“I don’t mean the sex. I mean everything else. The whole quiet stuff afterwards. The cuddling and…”

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight. You cuddled up to me.”

“Tyler, give it a rest. It’s been twelve and a half years. I’ve known for a long time that you actually enjoy cuddling. And you’re a master at it. You enjoyed it that first night. You hung back a bit, but you gave in pretty quick.”

“I don’t know…” he shrugs, and a slight blush creeps into his cheeks and the tips of ears. “...I was comfortable with you. It felt...nice.”

“Are you blushing? You are! Baby…” she stands on the bottom rung of the stool and presses a kiss to his temple. “...you’re so freaking adorable.”

He frowns, gently using his elbow to push her away. “Stop it.”

“Blushing. With your wife. Who you’ve known for more than a decade. Who is the last person you should get embarrassed in front of.”

“Esme…”

“Why would you be embarrassed? Tae…” she nuzzles his cheek with the tip of her nose, then sits back down on the stool. “...God I love you.”

“I don’t like talking about this stuff. The...I don’t know...emotional stuff. I can talk about sex all day, every day. But THAT? The other stuff that went down between us?”

“That other stuff was amazing and beautiful. And totally not what I expected from you. That’s what made it so great. This big, muscly, tattooed and scarred up mercenary being so cuddly and spilling his guts and crying to me and…”

“Oh fuck…” he groans. “....can we not do this? Talk about this stuff? Please?”

“I’m just saying that the after stuff? That was pretty amazing too. And you don’t need to be embarrassed about it. I mean, you ended up marrying the person you did all that stuff with. You’ve had kids with her. Seven of them. You don’t have to be embarrassed about that stuff. About anything, actually.”

“It’s just not who I am. Even now. I don’t talk about that stuff. I’m not comfortable with it.”

“Even with me?”

“It’s nothing to do with you. I just get..I don’t know...weirded out. I liked it, alright. Being like that with you. It had been a long time since I’d done anything even remotely like that. And it felt good. It felt right. YOU felt right.”

“Strange, huh? Totally wrong place, totally wrong time. But it felt so good.”

“It did,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.. “And I don’t regret a damn thing about it. About you. About us.”

Smiling, she curls an arm around his waist and leans into him; hand repeatedly stroking his lower back as she takes turns delving into her ice cream and enjoying the cheese toast. The silence between them has never been awkward; neither ever feeling the need to fill the minutes with mindless chit chat. It’s companionable and it’s relaxing; the close proximity of their bodies and their familiar smells is its own form of intimacy. It’s the comfortableness that exists between two people that have seen each other at every stage of their lives. The lowest of the lowest and the highest of the highs . Grieving AND celebrating. Bloodied, battered and broken and in near perfect health. Who’ve experienced the miracle of birth and the devastation of loss. Who had seen each other at their very worst right at the start, yet still chose one another. And STILL keep choosing each other. Every day. Regardless of the pain and obstacles thrown in their direction.

*****

“It’s weird that Riley and Sheana left so soon after dinner,” Esme breaks the silence, pushing her empty plate away; using the spoon to swirl now melting ice cream around in the bowl. “I thought they’d stay longer. They usually do.”

“Probably just tired. It’s a long flight. Sometimes we handle it well, other times we feel like complete and utter shit for a couple days.”

“Is it wrong that I’m glad they decided to stay at a hotel this time? I love my sister. And Shaena. Dearly. But I can not handle any more extra people in this house. Not when we’ve got so much to do and Ovi’s wedding is right around the corner. House guests are the last thing I need to be dealing with.”

“I was thinking I’m more glad they chose the hotel because I didn’t want to hear them getting busy. Weird, considering the kind of porn I used to watch. When I was single and having to tend to my own business all the time.”

“Oh please. You probably had all kinds of Sheilas on speed dial. And USED to watch? You STILL watch that stuff.”

“I’ll have you know, that I haven’t watched any that doesn’t involve me and you….or just you...in years. Why do I need to? I’m married to a goddess. Why watch fake shit when I watch the real stuff? It’s got the most beautiful girl in the world in it. The woman I love. What’s hotter than that?”

‘“You have issues, you know that?”

“If my issue is that I love and lust you, then yeah. I guess I do. I DO have issues. And trust me, babe. Those videos? Fucking amazing. Gets the job done. In record time.”

“Oh God,” Esme groans. “I do NOT need to hear this.”

He leans into her, playfully nudging her with his elbow. “Do you want to watch them with me? Tonight? Get you in the mood?”

“You think that’s what it takes for me to get in the mood?”

“No. I know it doesn’t take much for me to get you there. It would just be really hot. Watching them with you. Do something nice for me.”

“I do plenty of nice things for you. Who went from once a year butt stuff to near daily?”

“But you like that though. That’s why you give it up more. Just watch it with me. Just one of them. And then we’ll make another one. On New Year's Eve.”

Sighing heavily, she shakes her head. “Remind me again why I married you?”

“Because I dick you down like no one else ever has. And because of my eyes. And my butt. Probably my voice too.”

“The whole trifecta. Eyes, butt, voice.”

“And because you love me,” he adds, and lightly and teasingly ruffles her hair. “That’s the main reason.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I DO love you. Despite what’s in my best interests. And you’re right; Shaena and Riley DO get a little...wild.”

“And loud. Very loud.”

“You realize we do too, right? That we can be insanely loud.”

“No. YOU can be insanely loud. You’re the loud one.”

“Yeah, you’re the groaner and the growler and the swearer, I forgot.” She spoons the remains of the ice cream into her mouth. “I still think they left way too early. Totally uncharacteristic of them. Did everything go okay? When you talked to her?”

“Best as can be expected, I guess.”

“You totally lost your shit on her, didn’t you.”

“Did you hear me yelling?” He gathers up the empty bowls and carries them to the sink. “Throwing shit around?”

“You long ago mastered the art of losing your shit WITHOUT doing any of that.” She swivels her seat around; watching as he rinses the dishes and cutlery and then loads them into the dishwasher. “Tyler James…”

Smirking, he dries his palms on the thighs of his shorts. “Esme Michelle…”

“You did, didn’t you? Lost it.”

“I may have been a little harsh. No more than she was.”

“Riley harsh? Never.”

Leaning back against the dishwasher, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I said what I needed to say.”

“Which was?”

“I told her that you ‘fessed up. About the whole fake girls weekend thing. And I said I was pissed. That she didn’t call me. Let me know what was going on. That I had a right to know that my wife was in a crisis.”

“I wasn’t in a crisis. I was…”

“I had a right to know,” he forcibly repeats. “My wife calls her sister and says she wants to kill herself? That is definitely something I should have been told.”

“She only kept it quiet because I asked her to. I made her promise not to tell you. I was worried; I didn’t want you going off the deep end hearing something like that. I didn’t want you spiralling because I was.”

“You think I’m THAT weak? That I couldn’t handle hearing that?”

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. I’ve never thought that. You’re the strongest person I know. In every possible way. But I didn’t want to put something else on you. You were away on job. You needed to stay focused on it. It was your priority.”

“YOU’RE my priority,” he retorts. “ There’s not a job in this world that could EVER be more important. In fact, other than my kids? NOTHING is more important than you. You never should have asked Riley to lie for you. You shouldn’t have put that on her. That wasn’t fair to her.”

“I know,” Esme admits. “But I wasn’t exactly in my right mind, was I. And at that time, keeping it from you seemed like the best thing. For everyone. I didn’t want to add more to your plate. The business was just starting to really take off and things were crazy busy and you had a lot going on. I didn’t want to give you more to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You’re my wife. You could never be a burden. If you’d called me, I would have gotten on the next plane home. I would have talked you down and got you off that ledge and I would have come back to Australia. You know I would have.”

“I do know you would have. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want all that extra on you. You were busy and…”

“I am never too busy when it comes to my family,” he interjects. “You are the most important thing in my life. Nothing else comes close. And I know you think you need to protect me, but I am more than capable of handling things like this. When I have I not stepped up? When I have not shoved my own shit aside to take care of you? When have I not been there when you needed me?”

“You’ve always stepped up. You’ve always put everything aside for me. I’m not arguing that. I’m not saying you wouldn’t have come home or that you wouldn’t have dropped everything to get back to me. I KNOW you would have. But I wasn’t in my right mind. It was telling me I needed to keep it from you. For all the reasons I’ve told you over and over again. It wasn’t to hurt you, Tyler. I would never, EVER, hurt you.”

“Well it did hurt,” he confesses. “A lot. The fact you turned to her instead of me.”

“She was right next door. You were thousands of miles away,” Esme attempts to reason. “I needed help right there and then.”

“And I would have helped you. If you’d called. But you didn’t. You didn’t even give me the chance.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was scared and I was panicking and I just acted in the moment. That’s it. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I wasn’t thinking ‘hey, let’s find a way to hurt Tyler’s feelings’. Because I would never do that and you know it.”

“She should have called me. You might not have been in your right mind, but she was. And she should have gotten a hold of me. That’s what I told her.”

“And what did she say?”

“That she did what her sister asked. That that’s where her loyalty lies. With you. And I told her that you being my wife and the mother of my kids totally trumps the relationship she has with you. What if you’d never gotten a hold of her? What if that pushed you right over the edge and you had done something?”

“I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was freaking out and my brain was all messed up. I wasn’t thinking rationally.”

“One of our kids would have found you. And I can’t stop thinking about that. The fact you wouldn’t have been around in the morning and one of them would have went looking for you and they would have found you. Do you know what that would have done to them? Seeing that? That’s your kids. MY kids.”

“What do you want me to say, Tyler? I’ve already said I was sorry. Do you want to say it a million times more? Because I will. Yeah, I should have called. And when I WAS in the right frame of mind again, I realized how badly I fucked up. Because in the end, it was you that I wanted. It was you I wanted taking care of me. Not Riley. Not some stupid psychiatric hospital. YOU.”

“I can’t pretend that it didn’t bother me. That it didn’t hurt. The fact you didn’t trust me with it. With you.”

“You have that right. To be hurt. And I’m sorry. Because that is NOT what I meant to do. I would never pick anyone over you. EVER. And I’m sorry I did. If I could go back, I’d do everything differently. But I can’t. And I know you’re hurt and you’re pissed and you probably hate me right now…”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I love you. Which is I wanted to be the one to take care of you. Because I DO love you. We’re supposed to be a team, Esme. We’re supposed to be in this together. And sometimes….I don’t know...sometimes I don’t think you’re as invested in that part of things as I am.”

“That’s not fair. I have given everything to you. Right from the beginning. I was willing to give up my life for you. On that bridge. I gave up my family. Any friends I had. I moved to a country on the other side of the world. I started a whole new existence. For you.”

“I didn’t hold a gun to your head,” he reminds her. “ You made the decisions you did on your own.”

“Because I was in love with you. Because I wanted to be with you. But I still gave everything up. And I feel like I keep giving and giving and giving. And I’m scared one day there’s going to be nothing left to give. Then what? I won’t be of any use to you. Or our kids. “

“So somehow it’s my fault? That you keep giving and giving? Like you’re the only one that’s being doing that? I gave up things too. Most of them I needed to. The booze, the Oxy, the living in some crappy little shack in the outback. Those needed to go. But I also gave up everything I knew for you. I walked away from the job. TWICE. And I know I got sucked back in…”

“It wasn’t your fault. You had no control over that.”

“...but I started that business for you. Because you didn’t want me going out there anymore. You didn’t want me getting my hands dirty. Putting myself in the fire.”

“Do you blame me? Tyler, you have a wife. You have SEVEN kids! Why would you risk yourself when you have so much to lose? Especially when you’re not a hundred percent. You know damn well you’re not where you were thirteen years ago. You’ve admitted that yourself. Why would you go out there under those circumstances? Leave your family? People who love you? Why would you…?”

“Because I’m a selfish bastard, Esme. Just like everyone says I am. Have you ever thought maybe they’re right? That I really AM that person?”

“You’re not. You’re selfless, if anything. You’re not who they say you are. You never have been. Where is this coming from? I thought we were talking about Riley? How did it turn into being about us? Into a fight? How…?”

“I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m not.”

She valiantly holds back a flood of tears. “It sure as hell feels like you are.”

He finally approaches her. Crossing the room in two long strides and gathering her in his embrace; one hand resting on the small of her back and the other buried in her hair. “I’m sorry.” Gentle pressure draws her head into his chest; fingertips softly massaging her scalp. “I didn’t mean to take shit out on you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. But I was angry. I still am. More at her than you. You weren’t thinking right. She was. She knew better.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she turns her teary face up towards him. “She was just doing what I asked. And at the time it seemed like the right thing. I’d give anything to go back and do things differently.”

“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”

“I know I hurt you. I never meant to. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. For making you cry. I fucking HATE when you cry.”

“I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Crying. I think it’s my hormones. Oh God..." she chews anxiously on her bottom lip. "...maybe I’m starting menopause.”

“Or maybe you’re just married to a humongous asshole.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re not THAT big of an asshole.”

He stares down at her pointedly.

“You are a bit of one. You know you are. So don’t look at me like that.”

“Yet here you are,” he uses the front of his muscle to clear the tears off her cheeks and wipe her runny nose. “Twelve and a half years later. Putting up with it.”

“The sex is good. Really good. Really, really, REALLY good.”

“I knew it. Just using me for my body. And my dick.”

“That’s it,” she sniffles. “That’s all it’s ever been about. Your body and your penis.”

“You know, I’m just enough in love with you to accept that. And put up with it.”

“I love you. More than you could ever know. I love you more and more every day. Please tell me you never doubt that.”

“I don’t,” he assures her, then gently cradles her face in his palms and presses a tender kiss to her lips. “And I never will.”

[goodlucktai]

the ship sways but the heart is steady

chapter two: how the light gets in 

the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, lan zhan/wei ying word count: 3713 summary: Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying puts his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. To absolutely no one’s surprise except Wei Ying’s, his family goes with him. read on ao3

x

“We’re here,” Wen Qing says, bringing Jiang Cheng out of an involuntary doze. He realizes that the car has stopped.

He can’t see much of the estate through the glare on the windshield, so he glances into the backseat. Wei Ying is still very much dead to the world, and still sprawled against Lan Zhan, who is playing what sounds like Candy Crush on Wei Ying’s phone. Wen Ning is fast asleep on Lan Zhan’s opposite shoulder with the rabbit crate nestled safely in the loose loop of his arms.

It can’t possibly be comfortable for any of them, except maybe the rabbits.

“I’ll extract you in a sec,” Wen Qing says.

“Take your time,” Lan Zhan replies peacefully.

Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng drags himself out of the car. The dry heat smacks into him like a solid wall. Stretching stiff muscles, he gazes across the overgrown yard. It’s—alright, it’s a lot.

The whole property is clearly old farmland gone to seed. There’s some rusted equipment all choked through with weeds sitting off to one side of a dirt road, which wings around to a distant structure that must have once been a barn. Goldenrod is growing all over the place, and with the late afternoon sun baking overheard, it really adds to the illusion that everything has been bathed yellow.  

The villa itself is both better and worse than Jiang Cheng was expecting. It has exterior walls, at least. And most of a roof. Maybe once, it might have been someone’s pride and joy.

Wen Qing leaves the engine running, circling around the front of the car to stand next to Jiang Cheng. Her eyes look ancient with fear.

“I don’t know if we can do this,” she says. She’ll only say it now, where her brother and her best friend can’t hear. She’ll be strong all the rest of the time.

Jiang Cheng can’t begrudge her this important, much-needed moment of weakness. He bumps their shoulders together. He lets her lean on him for a bit. Jiang Cheng isn’t either of his siblings—he doesn’t know how to be a voice of comfort. The best he can do is just be here.

“What’s that stupid thing you and your siblings always say before you do something that almost gets you killed?” Wen Qing asks suddenly.

Immediately defensive, because he’s the one who started it back when he was like seven and Yanli and Wei Ying thought it was adorable and wouldn’t let it die, Jiang Cheng snaps, “It’s not stupid. It’s fucking—motivational.”

“It can be both. You’re living proof.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

She sighs, that familiar laughing sound that defangs Jiang Cheng in one fell swoop.

“‘Attempt the impossible,’” he recites grudgingly.

The sun is steadily sinking lower through the sky. All the daytime color is deep and rich now with the promise of evening, everything on the brink of shadow. A breeze rolls through the yard, catching Jiang Cheng’s hair and tossing it into his eyes. It carries smells he can’t recognize, smokey and woodsy, a little floral, clean.

There’s no smog, no oppressive diesel or baked garbage smell, no heavy industry works bleeding its fumes all over the place. It smells the way summer smelled in the books A-Li used to read to him.

He’ll get used to the heat, Jiang Cheng thinks. Summer has always been his favorite season. He doesn’t know if he’ll get used to the smell.

“Did you ever manage it?” Wen Qing asks quietly. “The impossible?”

Jiang Cheng can’t help but smile, half a dozen memories crowding forward in the space of a heartbeat. Him, and his brother, and his sister, always together. Never apart. Keeping each other safe, and even more importantly, keeping each other happy.

“All the time,” he says.

It must be the right thing to say. Wen Qing stands a little taller. Her expression goes so firm with resolve that Jiang Cheng would never have believed that she’d wavered if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

This was right, he realizes. It finally quiets the uncertain voice still loitering around in the back of his mind. Coming here for her was right.

#

Wei Ying is much more enthusiastic about the decrepit property than Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing combined, and for the life of him, Jiang Cheng can’t decide how much of it is an act to make the Wens feel better about their circumstances. It seems largely genuine.

“Can you believe how huge this house is?” Wei Ying says gleefully, somewhere in the middle of his third lap around the property. “Babe, the dining room is as big as our entire apartment!”

Lan Zhan smiles at him, likely just because he called him ‘babe’. Jiang Cheng is going to throw up on both of them at least once.

The inside is not actually quite as depressing as they feared. There’s old furniture stacked up in most of the rooms, each individual piece moldy and cobwebbed and not likely to support anyone’s weight without breaking in half, and collections of miscellaneous things, like ten-thousand stacks of newspapers in the study, and just as many empty wine bottles out on the back porch.

But there’s something to it, Jiang Cheng can’t deny that. Some sort of presence to it. A history, maybe, that haunts all these empty spaces that used to be full and busy and lived-in. It makes him linger over an old console table at the end of the second floor hallway, with a dusty jewelry box sitting on top. There are someone’s ruined treasures inside. This was someone’s home.

Maybe it could be that again.

“We’ll have to drive into town for dinner,” Wen Qing says, surveying their progress in the living room. They’ve set up camp there, since they’re losing too much light to do much else. “And flashlights. The electric company promised they’d have an inspector out here in the morning.”

Wei Ying collapses onto a dusty sofa, which is probably actively infested with something, or at the very least was at some point, and pats at the cushion next to him until Lan Zhan unfolds himself from his seat on a wine crate and joins him there.

“This place really isn’t that bad, A-Qing,” Wei Ying says. “You made it sound like they’d gutted it down to the studs.”

“That’s how it was described to me,” she says. She seems a lot firmer on her feet, now that she’s walked the length of the place and knows firsthand that it probably isn’t going to collapse on top of their heads at a moment’s notice. “What was it our cousin called it, A-Ning?”

“A rathole,” Wen Ning says helpfully, feeding the rabbits bits of dried rosemary out of his hands. “He said he was glad it was our problem and not his.”

“He’s probably just angry it wasn’t left to him in nainai’s will,” Wen Qing says.

“Is this your cousin who got kicked out of school for driving his professor’s car off a bridge or the one who was arrested for breaking and entering?” Wei Ying asks.

“Same cousin,” Wen Ning says. “He’s not very nice.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to asshole relatives, so he stands up and says, “Let’s get a move on. We’re already gonna be coming back in the dark. A-Ning, put the rabbits away. Lan Zhan, stop mooning over my brother.”

“If it’s gonna be dark by the time we get back anyway, there’s time for mooning,” Wei Ying grumbles.

He squeaks and scrambles over the back of the sofa when Jiang Cheng advances on him, and Wen Qing berates them for trying to break what little furniture they have three minutes after they fucking got here, and for a few minutes the old house is packed to the rafters with shouting and laughter as they jostle each other out the door.

It already feels a little fuller than it did when they arrived, in a way that has nothing to do with the suitcases stacked in the hall.

#

Jiang Cheng gets up the morning feeling unfairly jet-lagged. Everyone else is awake already, sitting on the floor of the kitchen, eating dry cereal because the fridge isn’t running yet and things like milk are still only a distant dream. They greet him with a round of sleepy but sincere hellos and Wei Ying passes him a box of Lucky Charms. 

Lan Zhan, who bought a camping generator and a power strip when they went to town the night before, holds his hand out for Jiang Cheng’s phone. Jiang Cheng surrenders it so it can be charged and refuses to admit out loud that he’s glad that Lan Zhan is marrying into his family.

By the time the inspector arrives, they’re picking their way through the junk in the kitchen. “Start with one room,” Wei Ying says, likely repeating the helpful Youtuber whose DIY videos he paid an obscene amount of his fiance’s money on the in-flight WiFi to watch. “Make it ours.”

So they’re clearing out cabinets and removing ancient rodent carcasses and sorting dusty glassware into possibly-salvageable and definitely-garbage piles when a loud knock draws their attention down the hall to the foyer where a friendly-looking, if bemused, man in a hard hat is standing on the threshold of the open front door.

Wen Qing shoves a blender into Jiang Cheng’s hands that probably hasn’t blended a damn thing in thirty years and pats as much dust off of her person as she can.

“You’ve got this,” Wei Ying says with enough belief to power a small aircraft. “And if you need me to flirt with him for any reason, just say the word. Lan Zhan will understand.”

Lan Zhan won’t understand, if Jiang Cheng is as good at reading his mico-expressions as he thinks he is. The inspector, who could clearly hear Wei Ying’s voice from like ten feet away, is already grinning when Wen Qing introduces herself.

Ultimately, after a walk around the house, the inspector has good news and bad news. He starts with the bad news.

“It could be a lot worse,” he says frankly. “But this building is practically an antique, and it hasn’t been upgraded in two decades, at least. We might be able to get away with a partial wiring, but anything less than a full one would leave you at a real risk of an electrical fire.”

Wen Qing’s whole body goes stiff. Wen Ning steps up beside her, taking her hand in one of his bandaged ones.

“A full rewiring then,” he says, firm in the way he only is when someone else needs him to be. “We’ll figure it out.”

Apparently sympathetic, the man nods. He imparts the good news. “We’ll get started on the repairs right away. I can probably get some guys out as early as this afternoon, and it shouldn’t take longer than a week.” After a beat, he adds, “We can arrange a payment plan when all’s said and done. I’m not going to hound you about a lump sum up front. We’re a pretty close-knit community out here, pretty neighborly. Don’t be surprised if you’ve got people poking their heads in at you soon.”

Wen Qing, who grew up in LA, seems to need a minute to digest that. Wen Ning seems automatically delighted.

“Hey, thanks for everything,” Wei Ying says when the inspector starts to head back to his truck.

The inspector grins and taps his hard hat in reply, looking amused. Jiang Cheng doesn’t have to search farther than two inches past Wei Ying’s shoulder to find out why.

“Jesus Christ, Lan Zhan, they’re not going to elope,” Jiang Cheng says, shoving him back towards the kitchen. “Wei Ying has literally never looked at another human being since the first time he looked at you.”

“Aww,” Wen Ning says.

“Shut up, that wasn’t—it’s annoying! Not cute!”

“It can be both things,” Wen Qing says dryly. She’s smiling.

#

Through some grace of god, the plumbing is sound. Unlike the wiring, the pipes were replaced recently enough that they’re not made of lead or polybutylene or anything else that will make them violently sick from bathing or drinking out of the tap.

This leads Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying on an expedition to the basement in search of the hot water heater. Jiang Cheng could fucking cry when they find out it’s one of those huge gas-powered tanks. Wei Ying looks up how to turn the gas on without exploding the place into tiny pieces, because of course he has data out here even though no one else does, and it’s as simple as turning a valve they find in the middle of some big fuck-off spiderwebs.

“Hot showers tonight!” Wei Ying sings when they make it back upstairs, significantly more dusty than they were when they descended. Wen Ning gazes at them with such open admiration that Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to admit there was literally no skill involved in the process at all.

The electricity inspector is proven right about curious visitors exactly four hours after he said it, as a warbling little voice calls, “Hello?” from the front porch.

The kitchen is in the middle of a thorough scrubbing, and Wen Ning isn’t allowed to put his hands anywhere near chemicals or heat or anything, really, aside from the lazy rabbits, so he pops up to his feet and scurries to the front of the house in a desperate bid to do something productive.

“A-jie,” he calls a moment later, in a tone that gets Wen Qing’s attention faster than a fucking lightning bolt from the sky probably would have. Her urgency is distracting. The rest of them don’t want to keep cleaning cabinets while Something Is Happening, so Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up and follow after a minute of pretending to work.

There’s a little old woman, probably well into her seventies, holding one of each of the Wen siblings’ hands and talking warmly. A little boy is clinging to her leg, peering up at them with wide eyes.

Granny, as she insists they call her, has lived in this town her whole life, and was a close friend of Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s grandparents.

“I heard about the fire,” she says, clutching their hands, “and I want you to know that I’ll help you however I can. There’s not much heavy lifting I can do, really, but—cooking and cleaning, I am more than capable of!”

Jiang Cheng, who had respect for his elders literally beaten into him growing up, would sooner walk into traffic than he would let this kind old woman clean for him. The sentiment is clearly echoed on all of his friends’ faces, and his brother steps forward to look at her with big, liquid eyes.

“Granny, you’ll stay and keep us company even if we don’t have any interesting stuff for you to do, won’t you? Even if all you do is sit here in the shade and chat with us for a bit? It’ll break my heart if you don’t, it really will.”

This earns Wei Ying a fond pat on the cheek, as he’s adopted by Granny on the spot. She does stay for a few hours, and they make a meal out of some day-old donuts and chips and sunflower seeds. Jiang Cheng watches Granny visibly come to the conclusion that they’re all incapable of feeding themselves, and something needs to be done about it, even if she politely declines to say it out loud.

Her grandson, A-Yuan, has picked his way cautiously to the little makeshift enclosure they’ve constructed for the rabbits, and crouches next to it to look in at them with wide, wanting eyes.

“Do you want to pet them?” Wei Ying says. The answer is obviously yes, no matter that A-Yuan shyly ducks his head and doesn’t answer, so Wei Ying lifts the white rabbit out and places it carefully in the child’s lap. “This is Bao. She’s my favorite. Don’t tell Pidan.”

A-Yuan giggles, carefully petting Bao’s velvety ears with the tips of his fingers. Bao is content to just sit there and soak up the affection until the end of days, the most laid-back creature on the planet.

“Pidan?” A-Yuan asks, glancing inquisitively at the black rabbit, who is chewing noisily on a piece of cardboard.

“Her sister,” Wei Ying says, lifting the black rabbit out and putting it next to Bao. A-Yuan is laughing fully, now, gifted with too much rabbit for his tiny arms to contain. “She’s silly and annoying and a trouble-maker. For some reason, she’s Lan Zhan’s favorite. Don’t tell Bao.”

“For some reason,” Lan Zhan intones solemnly. He’s looking at Wei Ying the way he’s always looking at him.

“I can’t stand this,” Jiang Cheng says to Wen Qing. “There has to be something else for me to clean, far away from them.”

“Have you seen where you are? There’s a million things for you to clean.”

But she gets up when he does, and they wander through the mostly-clean kitchen and into the pantry, where the shelves are nearly fully-stocked with foods at least ten years past their expiration. Sighing, Wen Qing ties back her hair. The curve of her neck is disarmingly delicate.

Jiang Cheng glances away quickly and refuses to think about why.

#

There’s a spigot in the conservatory that refuses to work. There’s a wall dividing the dining room and the living room that just doesn’t make sense. There’s broken windows and holes in the roof. Wen Ning walks across the second floor balcony to release an angry squirrel that they found in a wardrobe and nearly falls over the edge when the wrought iron railing bends beneath his weight. The yard and the grounds are an outright disaster.

The plot on the west side of the house was once home to a small vineyard, which explains some of the tubing and big gallon buckets they found in the conservatory. The original owners must have made their own fruit wine. The land by the barn is fenced off in a way that suggests a vegetable garden, and the rest of the considerable acreage is eaten up by the edge of a big lake, the remains of a dock leaning out over the water.

It’s all neglected, overgrown, untamed.

But, Jiang Cheng thinks, almost a month after they arrived, it’s getting there.

The last time it rained, he and Wei Ying and Wen Ning ran through the house looking for leaks, and couldn’t find a single one. For some reason it was so fucking exciting to have a roof without holes that they called people about it.

Yanli was ecstatic. Lan Huan, who, Jiang Cheng thinks, still doesn’t fully understand why his brother and future brother-in-law disappeared to California to begin with, was bemused but very happy for them. Granny brought over a strawberry sponge cake in celebration.

She’s been spending more time at the villa, anyway. One of the guest rooms has become hers, for those nights that dinner runs late and Wei Ying employs his wide gray eyes and convinces her not to drive home in the dark. All of them are more than okay with it, because otherwise she would go home to an empty house with no one for company but a four-year-old, and that makes Jiang Cheng’s stomach feel sour.

Granny says that A-Yuan has gotten attached, but she doesn’t specify what he’s attached to. It could be the bunnies, it could be all the wide open space to run around in, and it could just as well could be Jiang Cheng’s idiot brother, who carries A-Yuan around on his shoulders or under his arm tirelessly and threatens to plant him with the radishes every time he misbehaves.

They returned the rental car because someone in town had an old truck they didn’t mind parting with. There’s no A/C, but it’s not exactly a hardship to crank the windows down and drive really fast instead. Jiang Cheng usually volunteers Wei Ying for trips into town with him, because, even though he would die before he’d admit it out loud, it’s nice to have his brother to himself for a change.

If Yanli were here, he thinks, trudging through the little grocery store and deflecting most of Wei Ying’s attempts to sneak stupid shit into their shopping cart, it would actually be perfect.

#

They’re piled on the new second-hand sofa and a couple salvaged leather armchairs in the living room, watching a Dreamworks movie with A-Yuan on the satellite TV that Lan Zhan’s fuck-off bank account secured for them, when Wei Ying’s phone rings.

Wei Ying is sharing one of the recliners with Lan Zhan, tucked into his fiance’s lap with his legs draped over the arm of the chair and his head tucked into Lan Zhan’s shoulder, and it looks as though it would take an act of god to move him.

“Here,” Wen Qing says, amused, and leans over to pass the phone to Jiang Cheng.

“What are you good for if you won’t even answer your own phone?” Jiang Cheng grumbles without heat.

“Eye-candy,” Wei Ying says shamelessly.

“Hello?” he says loudly into the phone so he won’t have to spend a second thinking about what his own brother just fucking said to him.

“A-Cheng,” Yanli says.

“Oh, A-Li,” Jiang Cheng says, smiling automatically. “You didn’t call this morning. I meant to call you after dinner, but my phone died, because someone hogged the charger to play Candy Crush all day.”

Lan Zhan gazes at him serenely.

“A-Cheng,” Yanli says again, very gently. “Are you with A-Ying?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jiang Cheng says. His smile is fading. After a life spent reading verbal cues from his siblings, something about Yanli’s tone has his stomach doing somersaults. “He’s right here. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wei Ying sitting up. A-Yuan’s bright little voice is asking what’s wrong, and Wen Ning is shushing him. Wen Qing’s hand covers Jiang Cheng’s free one, as light and insubstantial as a bird landing on a telephone wire, until the second he needs a firmer hold.

“Of course I am, I’m okay.”

“A-Li,” he says, feeling light-headed. “What’s wrong?”

With a deep, shuddering breath, she tells him.

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp This Is...Holiday Fic, Version 3.0

Hello, internet! It is December, and that means it is also time to regain our festive feelings through holiday-type fic. Of which I have written just...an absurd amount of. So, before we start slamming on some more keys with inevitable cliches and kissing (and the list of prompts I’m going to post later and maybe start writing tomorrow) here is a wholly self-indulgent, self-promotional list of the copious number of holiday stories I’ve written. Under the cut, because honestly it’s ridiculous. 

Multi Chapters

To Make the Season Bright Rating: M Words: 49,683 Chapters: 5

It's just one weekend. At Christmas. In New York. With everyone there. With Killian there. It's fine. Emma doesn't mind – he's always there and she wants him to be there and it'll be good. Great, even. Festive. She's looking forward to it. She just hopes she doesn't do something stupid. Like shout feelings in his face. That probably wouldn't be very festive.

The Gift Receipt Rating: M Words: 46,244 Chapters: 5

It genuinely makes sense in her head. After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works. Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously. That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.

Older Now, But Not Done Hoping Rating: T Words: 25,577 Chapters: 3

Killian Jones has lost his festive spirit. It's been forcibly removed by corporate America and private developers and how much alcohol the customers at his bar drink every night. Although, he supposes, that means he's making a profit, but that also feels a little Scrooge-esque and he doesn't have time for visits from ghosts. Because he's suddenly got a whole schedule in front of him, written out and planned by his roommate. To reclaim their mutual and collective festivity. Together. Oh, and he's in love with her. At Christmas. And all the time, really. This is going to be great.

It’s the Thought That Counts Rating: M Words: 27, 178 Chapters: 3

It was, in theory, a good idea. It was, in theory, an absolutely fantastic idea. Because there was still, sometimes, a crisis or two in Storybrooke and nothing would be more chaotic than trying to find a Christmas present on Main Street, while also trying to keep said Christmas present a secret. Ordering gifts on the internet makes sense. It's just a few clicks and online sales and the presents will be there in plenty of time for Christmas to be perfect. Emma and Killian are positive. Except then the presents don't show up and it's Christmas Eve and plan B isn't so much a plan as it is just a bit of pre-holiday desperation and the entire town knows what they're up to.

One Shots

The Best Laid Plains Rating: T Words: 4,040

Emma knows what she wants. And she remembers what the qualifications are. She just needs some help with them. Or: She and Killian once decided they'd only get married if one of them came out with an outlandish proposal.

Following the Recipe Rating: T Words: 3,802

Emma can't bake cookies. That doesn't stop her from engaging in cookie-baking competitions. At Christmas. And Killian is more than happy to help.

Grounded Rating: T Words: 6,064

Being stuck at the airport is the worst at normal times. At Christmas, it's at least ten-thousand times worse. Unless you manage to make friends with the vaguely attractive, frustratingly charming guy sitting next to you in the terminal.

Carol of the [Wedding] Bells Rating: T Words: 7,926

Going to Vegas with your friends for Christmas? Totally normal. Getting married to one of your friends while in Vegas at Christmas? Might take a bit more explaining. Especially when neither one of you can remember it.

More Than You Could Ever Know Rating: T Words: 5,040

It’s the perfect plan. So, she told the new guy at work that she was already married and couldn’t date him. Fine, no big deal. Emma has someone more than wiling to pretend to be her husband and a friend more than willing to do her pre-party hair. She’s certain everything will work out. The very last thing she expects is for Killian to be jealous. Because she might have picked the wrong Jones brother to play doting husband.

Once Again As in Olden Days Rating: T Words: 6,462

She’s absolutely freezing cold. It’s a dumb metaphor, one that only serves to make Emma even more pissed off than she already is. Because two hours ago it was summer. But a few more hours before that, she was also locked in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. And now she’s outside. With her kid. And a pirate that isn’t hers, explicitly, but keeps staring at her like he wouldn’t mind if he was. So maybe it’s not the worst. Maybe she’ll be able to get warm eventually.

Want Something That Will Last Forever Rating: T Words: 5,093

The weight in his jacket pocket is getting heavier. Burning a hole. A metaphorical one. Because a literal one would probably freak David out and David is already worried enough and Killian is a very good friend. Who is willing to help David plan his proposal to Mary Margaret. Even if it messes everything else up in the process.

A Fair, Even-Handed, Noble Adjustment of Things Rating: T Words: 9,267

Emma just wants to do something good. Give back. Maybe get a few bonus points. Metaphorically speaking. Not the last one. That defeats the purpose of all of this. But she can’t really think straight because he keeps humming and using nicknames and stealing all the flour. And she’d give up all the bonus points she’s, maybe, accumulated by, possibly, doing good if she could just remember what his name is. This is not going the way she planned. At all.

Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand Rating: T Words: 7,052

She was cold. She was tired. She did not want to be ice skating. She wasn’t really ice skating. She was just…kind of standing there – while getting yelled at by security guards and stared at by her boyfriend and they were being pushed off the ice. Not literally. And Emma knew she was being a Grinch or, maybe, just Max the Dog because she wasn’t in control enough to be a Grinch, but Killian wanted to go ice skating and well…fake it ‘til you make it festivity, right?

Kiss Her Once [For Me] Rating: T Words: 9,500

To say that the last year has been hectic would be the greatest understatement in the history of the modern world. Or, like, libel. In print, it’s libel. Because the last year has been filled with political promises and campaigns and far more press conferences than Emma realized were possible. And now, with Washington D.C. ahead of them, the only thing Emma really wants is to figure out how many boxes she��ll need to move all her stuff. That is, of course, until Killian finds her sitting in the middle of Regina’s hallway, a distinct lack of alcohol in her system, and the guarantee that he’s got a plan. For fun. Of the festive variety. It includes mistletoe.

Prompt: Santa!Con Rating: T Words: 2,444

Killian is very drunk. There are people dressed like Santa everywhere. And Emma isn't sure she heard the question correctly. She might be a little drunk too, honestly.

Prompt: Killian Wakes Up Without Any Blankets Rating: T Words: 2,444

He's freezing. Presumably because his wife — who he loves very much — has once again stolen all the blankets.

Tripping Over the Blue Line

A Few Days Off for Christmas Rating: T Words: 11,903

Matt's first Christmas at the brownstone means several things. Chinese food. Bad bread pudding. And unexpected guests.

A Chance of Snow Showers Rating: T Words: 3,372

Everything's a competition on this team. So no one is all that surprised when Killian agrees to race during family skate. Even with a baby strapped to his chest.

Dropping Gloves...In the Name of Festive Fashion Rating: T Words: 3,038

It’s probably one of the more ridiculous things any of them have ever done. It’s also one of the better ideas any of them has ever had – it’s festive and in the spirit and the fans will love it. And maybe it’s kind of fun because it ends with another win and some positive press before the break and Phillip’s jacket is really just…a work of fashion art.

All Knotted Up Rating: T Words: 2,188

He’s never actually done anything like this – brought a girl home for Christmas. No, not just a girl – Emma. Emma was coming to the brownstone for Christmas and the entire Vankald family would be there with traditions and bread pudding and there had to be gifts.

He needed to buy a gift. Or, at least, get a gift. And the list of people who wouldn’t laugh right in his face at the idea of Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, freaking out about that was growing more and more slim by the minute.

We’ll Take a Cup [Defense] Of Kindness Rating: M Words: 19,204 Chapters: 2

It's one night. New Year's Eve. And a whole list of rules. Because Regina might have actually lost her mind. Or maybe that's just Emma. Because they've played a million games in two days, or it's at least felt that way, and planning an outdoor practice a few weeks before the Olympics seemed like a good idea at one point. Now it just seems insane. So she's going to wear this dress and kiss her boyfriend. A lot. He's good. Better than good. Great. The greatest. It's New Year's Day and, yeah, sure it's freezing, but Killian hasn't actually tried to push Scarlet on the Subway tracks yet so that seems like a step in the right direction. So he's a little distracted a few weeks before the Olympics, but that's fine. It's good. Or it'll be good. Eventually. Soon. In the meantime he's probably just going to kiss his girlfriend. A lot.

First Line Center Rating: T Words: 9,508 Chapters: 2

She hadn’t read the invitation. It hadn’t changed in years, after all - a set of rules and expectations for a New Year’s party that they were all going to break anyway because the most traditional thing about this team was flouting tradition. So, Emma had mostly ignored it. Until. A shout and Killian refusing to wear a tie and something crashing in her kitchen, one kid worried about another and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. There was a joke about fresh ice to be made, she was sure.

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

It’s National Fairy Tale Day!

In honor of that, and TROPED MADNESS 2.0 starting on Monday, here’s some Bellamy-centric Canonverse Fairy Tale AUs from the Qualifying Round of Madness 1.0!

when the party's over by safeandsound13 @captaindaddykru (Rated T) [Bellamy & Octavia] || moodboard

Summary: Bellamy goes into the anomaly to save Octavia. What he finds, is a trail of bodies.

{Or a Canonverse take on Hansel & Gretel}

to dream about a life (where you’re the shining star) by ProbablyVoldemort @probably-voldemort (Rated T) [Bellamy x Murphy] || moodboard

Summary: Bellamy has been dreaming about going to the coalition’s annual Camp Rock since he was a kid. The chance to escape his life and his step-father and spend his days travelling between clans and singing. This year, he finally has a chance to go–as a chef.

Murphy hated what came of Clarke’s treaty with the Grounders, but even he knew it could’ve been worse. But that didn’t mean he wanted to spend his time performing for the people who had kidnapped and tortured him. He could do it, though. He could sing at whatever the fuck Camp Rock was, and he could help pick whichever winner the Grounders wanted him to pick. He could play nice. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

{or a Canonverse take on Cinderella}

don’t be who you were by sapphictomaz @lexasheart (Rated T) [Bellamy & Charmaine Diyoza]

Summary: Bellamy’s forced to stay in the bunker, alone, for six years. Diyoza trapped alone on her ship. They find a way to help each other survive, because that’s what they know how to do.

{or a Canonverse take on Rapunzel}

Straight On Until Morning by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold (Rated G) [Bellamy & Kane] || moodboard

Summary: Bellamy and his unruly band of Delinquents have been living life as they wish. Their days are filled with games and exploring while their nights are spent coordinating attacks against the dreaded Wanheda and her Mountain Men. It’s all fun and games in a world where no one gets older.

But then a strange man appears one day and Marcus Kane provides a reality check to Bellamy that he’s not prepared to accept.

{or a Canonverse take on Peter Pan}

Where is the path to Wonderland? by sparklyfairymira @sparklyfairymira (Rated T) [Bellamy x Clarke]

Summary: Separated from their friends in the Anomaly, Clarke and Bellamy find themselves lost in a world so different from their own.

{or a Canonverse take on Alice In Wonderland}

The Storyteller by thelittlefanpire @thelittlefanpire (Rated T) [Bellamy x Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: A heartbroken Commander, betrayed by her beloved, vows to slay each and every one of her future lovers after they’ve spent their first night together.

Bellamy Blake, the latest to be taken into the Commander of Death’s chambers, will try to save his life by weaving a succession of tales to the woman that lasts for one thousand and one nights.

{or a Canonverse take on 1001 Nights}

Brother Knows Best by Dylanobrienisbatman @dylanobrienisbatman (Rated G) [Bellamy & Octavia] || moodboard

Summary: Octavia grew up in a cave, hidden from the world, with only her brother to care for her. He kept her safe, safe from a world where people like her, where nightbloods, were hunted and slaughtered.

But even with so much danger, she longs to see the world, so when a handsome stranger stumbles into their cave, she makes her escape to spend one night out under the stars.

But in just one night, she begins to wonder if everything she’d grown up believing was true after all.

{or a Canonverse take on Rapunzel}

The Sixth Bride by Shen_Gong_Oops @shen-gong-oops (Rated M) [Bellamy x Roan] || moodboard

Summary: For their wedding, Roan gifted him an antique skeleton key attached to a thin, leather cord. Rough, callous fingertips grazed the base of his neck as they secured the necklace in place. While his husband allowed him full reign of the tower, the key provided access to the only room he barred Bellamy from entering. He was never to set foot in the sole room on the highest floor. Into Roan’s private reprieve from the world.

And to be fair, Bellamy respected Roan’s right to privacy - for a while.

{or a Canonverse take on Bluebeard}

Gunning for Glory by teeandrainbows @reggieshamster (Rated T) [Bellamy x Gina] || moodboard

Summary: While on a routine mission for Kane, Bellamy comes across a mystery girl who points him towards a treasure trove that might prove useful for Arkadia, but danger lurks up every spiraling staircase. It may just be the distraction he needs, though, to get over Clarke leaving.

{or a Canonverse take on Jack and the Beanstalk}

On the Ground and What Bellamy Found There by elle_stone @kinetic-elaboration (Rated G) [General] || moodboard

Summary: Bellamy has a prophetic dream.

{or a Canonverse take on Alice in Wonderland}

There’s Gonna Be a Party When the Wolf Comes Home by kuklash @kuklash (Rated T) [General] || moodboard

Summary: “Dante?” she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and surprise.

Bellamy straightens the nameplate on his desk, and the gold plaque reflects the dim fluorescent lights above him. He taps it twice, drawing her attention to the words “Dante Wallace” written in a fancy script.

“That’s what they call me.”

{or a Canonverse take on Little Red Riding Hood}

No Ordinary Apple by andthelightbulbclicks @andthelightbulbclicks (Rated T) [Bellamy & Josephine] || moodboard

Summary: When Josephine awakens in Clarke Griffin’s body, she has no reason to believe anything about her reincarnation is anything out of the ordinary.

Then she learns that Clarke was far from a willing host and meets Bellamy Blake.

She doesn’t expect to become invested in their love story, and she certainly doesn’t plan on risking her own like to make things right.

And yet, here she is. All in the name of true love.

{or a Canonverse take on Snow White}

seeds in silence (exploded in riot) by justbecauseyoubelievesomething @justbecauseyoubelievesomething (Rated T) [Bellamy & Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: Seeds. Not the modified seeds Farm Station constantly churns out in unending batches. Genuine seeds. Earth seeds.

The kind of seeds that the scientists from Alpha will sell their souls for.

Doctor Griffin talks a lot about genetics and lost patterns, but Bellamy’s mind is a million miles away. He can get anything he wants for Octavia and his mom. He can make it so Octavia doesn’t have to live in hiding. He can bring the chancellor himself to his knees, if he’s careful enough.

{or a Canonverse take on Jack and the Beanstalk}

2199 Nights by Mobi_On_A_Mission @mobi-on-a-mission (Rated M) [Bellamy x Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: Every day, the Commander Bellamy took a new wife and executed her the next morning, until one day his fleimkepa’s daughter volunteered. She kept him entertained with tales of far-off places, sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…

{or a Canonverse take on 1001 Nights}

i’ve got a heart in me (i swear) by hopskipaway @hopskipaway (Rating T) [Bellamy x Murphy] || moodboard

Summary: Belonging was not a familiar word in the Book of John Murphy.

That was a fact that seemed grounded in concrete; what he wouldn’t give to stumble upon a sledgehammer someday and be reunited with his bruised and feeble, but still beating, heart.

{or a Canonverse take on The Ugly Duckling}

we’d up and fly (if there were wings for flying) by the_most_beautiful_broom @the-most-beautiful-broom (Rated G) [Bellamy x Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: Bellamy and Wells are held captive and interrogated by the Grounders, and when he returns to Arkadia, Bellamy finds some things have changed.

{or a Canonverse take on Robin Hood}

How to Kill a Two-Headed Turkey by vmreed @vmreed (Rated T) [Bellamy & Octavia] || moodboard

Summary: After everyone at camp collapses from a mysterious illness (thanks Murphy), Bellamy and Octavia are sent to hunt enough food for 100 sick teenagers. When they find themselves lost, far from camp, what else can they do but move forward? Thankfully, a kind woman took them in, but all is not as it seems. Anya’s been waiting to meet these Skaikru…

{or a Canonverse take on Hansel & Gretel}

simmer, simmer, simmer by Pawprinter @pawprinterfanfic (Rated M) [Bellamy x Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: When Sanctum falls to starvation, it is up to Bellamy and Clarke to find a solution. They aren’t prepared for the horrors beyond the Sanctum barrier.

{or a Canonverse take on Hansel & Gretel}

So Familiar a Gleam by Anonymous (Rated T) [Bellamy x Clarke]

Summary: When the dropship first lands, Bellamy is hopeful.

It doesn't last.

After all, the humans who were left behind, they've been on there own for a while.

Things have changed.

{or a Canonverse take on Sleeping Beauty}

deep end of our little ocean by Pawprinter @pawprinterfanfic (Rated T) [Bellamy x Clarke] || moodboard

Summary: Most people look at their soulmarks and see hope, and life, and love.

Bellamy looks at his and sees a death sentence.

With his birthday quickly approaching and no hope for finding his soulmate, he resigns himself to living out the last of his days with his sister on an oil rig at sea.

And then he meets Clarke.

or, five times Bellamy saves Clarke and the one time she saves him.

{or a Canonverse take on The Little Mermaid}

———

Enjoy all the fics, and who knows...maybe you’ll see something similar in our next competition! TROPED MADNESS 2.0 Starts March 1st! More information can be found here and sign-up to compete here!

[comeonpeters]

i never forgot

bobby/trevor wilson-centric; mild angst fic / a conversation he’d never thought he would get to have. 

Rose wouldn’t want him to come and accost her daughter with his presence, but he has to know. Rose was his friend, Rose saved his goddamn life, but the three of them, they were his- he knows the look of his- of the- of those boys. He knows what he saw. He knows. There’s a glowing light outside in the studio and he goes to it, knocks on the studio door, doesn’t let himself hesitate. Julie looks at him with tears in her eyes. He doesn’t know why. There’s no one else in the studio with her. He wishes there were. 

“Mister Wilson?” 

“Julie, you know you can call me- Trevor. Even if you and Carrie haven’t spoken lately, you can still call me Trevor,” he says, tripping over a name that he hasn’t been called since he was seventeen. She invites him into the studio with trepidation as if he hasn’t been there a thousand times, as if he didn’t used to own the place, as if he didn’t used to- as if it wasn’t his once. As if it wasn't theirs once. Even walking in here feels like twenty five years of grief is pressing down around him, but he walks in anyway. He doesn’t let his jaw shake, no matter how much it would like to. He does not let himself get angry, or sad, or small, no matter how much he would like to. Even thinking of- it makes him feel young. Seventeen. He misses Rose. He misses-. He can’t think. 

“I saw you at the show. Thank you for coming. It was really nice of you to be there,” Julie says, trying to break the tension that has settled now between them. He doesn’t know how to broach the topic he needs to. How does he- there’s no way to accuse your dead friend’s daughter of playing in a band made up of your dead family is there? 

“Of course I did. How could I not come and see you and the boys play?” is what he says, nonsensical and not what he meant, and he has been so collected since he picked himself up out of the gutter he threw himself into twenty five years ago, and he’s not handling this well. He needs to meditate. Or call his therapist. Or do any one of the thousand coping mechanisms that he’s learned over decades of therapy, but none of them come to mind, of course, because he’s looking his friend’s daughter in the eye as she flounders like a fish. 

“The boys? Yeah, everyone is super impressed by the hologram band thing, right?! It’s, uh, it was really nice of you to come all this way, but it’s getting late, isn’t it?” Julie tries, and he should let her, he really should. 

“Julie... are they ghosts?” he asks, again not exactly what he meant, and yet what he needs to know. She looks at him, alarmed. Then, a notebook, Luke’s fucking notebook, falls off of the piano, and the question might as well be answered for her. 

“Oh, come on, guys, you couldn’t have kept it together until I got him out of here?” Julie says to someone he can’t see, and his heart shatters, just a little bit. Why can she see them? Why can’t he? Why couldn’t he ever see them? He had always- he had tried- why couldn’t he ever- his chest hurts. He wants to be sitting down, so he moves over to Luke’s couch (he remembers helping Luke carry it into the studio, they stole it off of the curb when some guy was just gonna throw it out, what a mensch) and he slumps down. They’re here. He just can’t see them. 

“They’re here?” he asks, just to confirm. Julie nods. “I know they have things to say. They’ve never been the quietest bunch. What have they got?” He hasn’t done anything perfectly (save Carrie), and if anyone is gonna fight him tooth and nail on everything, it’s Luke Patterson. 

“Well, a lot. Reggie’s first question, when they first found out who you were, was why you didn’t share anything with their families, and Luke wanted to know why you didn’t share the credit,” Julie says, looking at specific areas of air where he can guess the boys are. He wishes he could see them. He puts away the notion to sob, and laughs instead. He laughs because he can’t fucking imagine wanting to share anything with Luke and Reggie and Alex’s fucking families, can’t imagine wanting them to be able to look at the songs Luke wrote and think- wanting them to- fuck. 

“Share with your families?” he says, speaking directly to the boys for the first time in twenty years, because he had done it a lot right after they died, and yet stopped when his therapist told him that it probably wasn’t helping. “Was I supposed to give money to Alex’s parents, who fucking kicked him out for being gay? Or Luke’s, who never believed in him, in us, in Sunset Curve, or the dream, or music? Or Reggie’s? How was I supposed to share with Reggie’s family when I knew how little he slept in that house? I was the last person left who loved every single part of all three of you, and I wasn’t going to give anything to anybody who ever made you feel- who ever- it’s been twenty five years, you’d think I would be ready for this conversation.” 

“And what about the credit?” Julie asks, looking as if she wants to linger on previous parts of what he said, but Luke is definitely getting her to get him to move on. He appreciates that, snorting. 

“I was 21 and my three best friends had been dead for four years. Rose... Rose convinced me to start making music again. She told me that I should pick out some of your unfinished songs, finish them up if I could, and see if I could make it big myself. I decided on Crooked Teeth because it was about Reggie, and My Name is Luke because it was about you, and Long Weekend because it was about Alex, I know it was, and Get Lost because it was about all of us. I figured... recording My Name is Luke, it was pretty obvious who it was by. Anybody could figure out who I was, that I used to be a member of Sunset Curve, that band that- yeah. You were dead, Lu. I didn’t. I didn’t expect to get you back.” He still doesn’t get to get him back, but this conversation, it’s more than he expected to have. 

Julie clears her throat. He has to shake his head to return himself fully to the present. He hadn’t realized he had left it. 

“Alex wants to know how you just... left them behind. It seems like after a certain point you just... moved on. You just forgot them,” Julie says, her tone reluctant. He knows her, and he knows that Alex must have insisted if she’s taking that tone; it’s the one she used to get when Carrie would convince her to do something not so straight laced and goodie two shoes. He shakes his head again. 

“My daughter. Carrie. They’ve seen her, right?” he asks, wanting to get a confirmation from Julie. Julie snorts. 

“They’re familiar, yes.” 

“I was... spiraling. Before she was born. I wasn’t meant to be famous without the three of you. Everything was too much and not enough and there were so many people and none of them were the three of you, and you were dead. My family. All three of you stayed in my garage, and I don’t think you ever questioned why nobody ever asked questions about that. No one was around to. My parents were always gone, one business trip or another, one affair or another, and after I got on the road, it just got worse. Nothing real, nothing tangible. When I found out Carrie’s mom was pregnant, I had to beg her to keep the baby, and pay her through the nose besides. Carrie and Rose, after Carrie was born and I didn’t know how to take care of a baby, saved my life. And Julie. Do you know what Carrie’s full name is?” he asks, because he knows that she knows, and he nudges her with his shoulder just a bit like he used to do when she was younger. She gives him a ghost of the smile she used to have when she was younger too. 

“Carrie Sunset Wilson,” she says, barely above a whisper. He nods. 

“It was the only way to name her after all three of them. Named my little girl after all three of my brothers. And she saved my life,” he says again, because she did. She’s the best thing that ever happened to him, his little girl. He stopped making music entirely when she was born, road the money and went to gender inclusive Mommy and Mes and bought a big house where she could make friends (she already had a built in best friend, because Julie is three months older than her, they all lost Rose together, they’ll come back together), he does everything for her, still. He’s lost in his head again. 

“What about-” 

“He’s had enough,” a new voice says, a terrifyingly familiar voice says, and there’s a hand on his shoulder that wasn’t there before and he looks up and Reggie Peters is there. He’s just standing there, like he’s allowed to just stand there, like he’s not dead, like he hasn’t been dead for longer than he was alive, and a sob breaks out of Robert Trevor Wilson’s chest before he can contain it. He stands up and he wraps himself around a seventeen year old boy that he hasn’t seen since he himself was seventeen, and he feels like he’s going to crack apart. Reggie. His brother. His best friend. His family. His family. His family. Another body wraps around his back and he knows Luke’s stupid sleeveless fucking shirts even against his back and twenty five years late and he sobs some more. Alex hugs him too and he breaks into full fledged tears. Everything is okay. Nothing is okay. 

“I never forgot. I never ever forgot. I would never forget you,” he says it like a mantra, and everyone knows it’s true. 

[wormstacheangel]

Since your last post implied it I would love to know about your AU recommendations ❤ I am obsessed too!! Thanks in advance 🙏🏻

hello! I hope you don’t mind if I just make a basic list of some of the AU stories I have read or want to read. Not in any order I just went through my bookmarks on AO3 :) Also I need to read more...Under the cut because it got too long! 

Angel's Wild (not gonna lie this is my favorite fic. I have read this almost a dozen times now)

Summary: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. 

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? 

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Checked Out

Summary:  Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

A Ghost Story

Summary:  Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Patient Love

Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. How do you deal with losing half of yourself when your whole life always revolved around the two of you, like yin and yang and black and white? How do you deal with a broken soul and old demons looming over you with no one to hold you back anymore?

After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator and more than a dozen deployments in both Afghanistan and Iraq, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. When he learns about his friend Jimmy’s death, Dean makes his way back to Kansas with his heart in his throat and broken pieces at his feet.

Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Unbroken

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

While You Were Sleeping

Summary:  A Destiel version of While You Were Sleeping! Castiel is alone and floundering. He has a crush on one of the passengers who passes through his subway station every morning. When the man gets pushed onto the tracks, Cas saves him. But when they get to the hospital there's a mix up and Cas finds himself engaged to a complete stranger. Enter, the rest of the family, including big brother Dean. How will Cas navigate the relationship with his supposed future in-laws? What will he do when Sam finally wakes up? And why can't he stop thinking about Dean?

Purgatory, director's cut

Summary: this doesn’t have a summary but it is dean and cas in purgatory and it’s soooo cool! I promise it’s amazing and worth the read!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise

Summary: Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process.

But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

What Greater Gift

Summary: Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.

From a prompt found on Tumblr. Saw this and I couldn't resist a Destiel AU, and I've been wanting to write Witch!Cas for ages.

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Summary: Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

They end up going through a lot more than a case, unfolding feelings left untold for so long, discovering parts of each other they never intended to uncover.

But will the feelings raging inside them be enough to bring their walls down?

A Fish Out of Water

Summary: To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes.

It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things.

But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

Summary: Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

Just as lost as I

Summary: Dean's been in love with Castiel for centuries. He keeps it buried, never letting himself get too close, but when Castiel goes missing he doesn't hesitate. He's going to find him if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Love Bites

Summary: Cas Novak graduated with a 4.0 in Mathematics, but not even Naomi Novak’s money could help him at job interviews. Anxious and dissatisfied with life, at nearly thirty he’s still washing dishes in the back of his best friend Hannah’s café.Until one night when his cat drags an injured bat into his apartment.

Dean may be a vampire, but he’s not an asshole (well, not much.) He feels like he owes the awkward guy for rescuing him from the cat’s clutches, so he sets about changing Cas's life.

A silly story about families who aren’t quite what they seem, fake boyfriends, and falling in love with someone who’s never, technically, met you.

The Bad Cop, Worse Cop Adventures of Freckles and Feathers

Summary: Miami. A place with beaches, babes, palm trees, and a growing drug-fueled crime organization. To help combat the drugs littering the streets, Captain Singer puts together a Tactical Narcotics Team composed of Miami's two finest and fearless officers. Charming casanova Dean Winchester has fought tooth and nail, rising through the ranks for this position. Trench coat toting Castiel Novak knows more hand-to-hand combative techniques than he does people skills. Between Dean's big mouth and Castiel's take-no-shit attitude, their introductory meeting ends on a less than stellar note and a couple of hard to shake nicknames.

After six months of partnership, the nicknames have stuck and so has the sexual tension. When a murder in the middle of the night launches their biggest lead on a cleverly evasive drug lord, Dean is shocked to find Sam at the center of it. Sam comes clean with his involvement and Charlie, their witness, seeks revenge against the man responsible for killing her friend. As the stakes rise higher so do Dean’s feelings putting everything in jeopardy. Is a cop with everything to prove, a cop with everything to lose, one computer hacker witness, and a damn good ADA enough to save the day?

The Care and Feeding of Castiel

Summary: Dean’s quiet time in the bunker is interrupted by some stranger-than-usual behavior from his angel. Oh, and feathers...there are a lot of those, too.

First Gentleman Wanted

Summary:  President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

The Graveyard Shift

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

The Path of Fireflies

Summary: After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Summary: Heaven is white.Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.-Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Doing this made me realize I need to read more longer fics. I usually just read the short ficlets on tumblr but I need to broaden my horizon and read more. But yes! These are the AU’s currently in my bookmarks. Hope you find one to enjoy :)

[scoopsahoy]

i just read ur fic about getting pregnant with steve and was wondering if u could write one about the reader and steve struggling for a few years to get pregnant, and she has an emotional breakdown one night bc she doesn't feel like enough for him because it's been pushed on her that women's only jobs are to have kids and shes like "i cant even do that so how am i supposed to please you" and he comforts her and makes her feel better

ぺ  word count ⋰ 2.3k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

❍  cw ⋰ swearing, mentions of sex

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You sat on the toilet seat with your leg bouncing, anxiously waiting for the pregnancy test results to show up. This had become a new norm for you: getting pregnancy tests and anxiously awaiting the results. And you were sick of it.

It took a toll on you. Getting a negative result every single month for four years straight was stressful mentally and physically. You’d had a migraine for at least three and a half years, and no medicine helped. You were always nauseous and sick, which your gynecologist said was normal in your situation. You were always tired and sad, which affected your job and your relationship with Steve.

You knew he was just as tired of it as you were, and you knew he was probably exhausted from having to care for you all the time.

It had also taken a toll on your sex life. At this point, you two only had sex to reproduce. You rarely finished and always denied his offers to help you. You would always flip yourself upside down afterward to help the sperm enter your uterus.

You’d both been to the doctor multiple times to see which one of you was fertile. Steve was one hundred percent fertile, while you had less of a chance of getting pregnant that you should’ve had.

You’d been to multiple IVF appointments as well. It wasn’t Steve’s favorite thing in the world to go into a room alone and masturbate to porn to provide sperm samples.

At this point, he didn’t enjoy looking at other women to get off, so you had taken pictures of yourself to give him.

The first few times it was awkward for him afterward, but you assured him there was nothing uncomfortable about it.

You’d probably spent over ten thousand dollars on it, and it was heartbreaking each time it didn’t work.

At the end of the five minutes, you grabbed the test out of the sink, feeling a pain in your heart at the single line.

You tossed it back into the sink as you stood up, feeling tears slide down your face. Your back hit the wall and you slid down until you felt yourself land on your ass.

You pulled your knees into your chest, propped your elbows on them, and put your hands into your palms.

You couldn’t help but sob. You and Steve had been trying for four years to conceive. And, despite everything mentioned, none of it worked. This was one of your last straws, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You both desperately wanted kids, preferably two or three. But at this point, you’d be lucky to even have one.

Steve made it clear that in the end, if you couldn’t have children of your own, he’d be perfectly okay with adopting, or just not having any. And you agreed.

However, you had the longing to create your own child. Everything from the pregnancy, to giving birth, to raising that child from the moment they came out, until the moment they could care for themselves. You wanted that more than anything, but you’d be happy to adopt if you were infertile.

But sitting on the bathroom floor knowing that every effort you made — propping yourself upside down after sex, aforementioned IVF treatments, tracking your cycles, staying healthy, etc. — didn’t work, made your heart hurt.

You wondered if you were good enough for Steve, if you could really give him what he wanted. If he was genuinely happy with trying to have kids for years on end and being unsuccessful. You wondered if that was what he wanted, if he was still happy with you.

Your sobs filled the bathroom, making you glad Dustin wasn’t there.

Dustin was your younger brother, and currently, he was at the arcade. He knew about your struggle to have kids, and he usually tried to help, whether it was with the foods you ate, or getting you vitamins, making sure your mom didn’t keep her alcohol where you could get to it, etc.

You thought it was sweet how much he wanted a niece or nephew, always talking about babysitting them and allowing them into the party.

You always made sure he was gone when you took pregnancy tests. You loved him, but comfort wasn’t his strong suit. Sometimes it would work just because of the effort, but sometimes it would make you feel worse. So, you figured the easiest way to avoid that was to make sure he wasn’t there.

The rest of the party was also anticipating you getting pregnant. Max, Eleven, and Nancy all said they would help her with girl things like periods, dating, and other things boys didn’t understand.

And Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Jonathan all said they would indoctrinate him/her into their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

It made you cry the first time you found out how excited they were to have a new member of the family.

But you hated making them wait. Dustin and Robin were the only ones who knew how long you’d been trying, so the rest of them kept jokingly bugging you about them getting a new DnD member.

When Steve got home from work, he found you crying on the bathroom floor. He looked in the sink, seeing another negative test.

He sat on the toilet seat, placing his hands on your knees. He didn’t say anything, he let you talk at your own pace.

“Negative again,” you said, your voice stuffy.

He nodded. “I know.”

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Hey, look at me.”

You pulled your hands from your face, revealing your eyes bloodshot and puffy, your skin soaked in tears.

He stood up and held his hands out for you to take. You pulled yourself up and he cupped your face. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, before grabbing a dry cloth and cleaning your face completely.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a deep hug. You cried into his chest, leaving tear stains on his shirt. He gently pulled you to the bedroom a few seconds later. You sat against the headboard, resting your elbows on your knees. He sat across from you, only a few feet away.

He gripped your hands as you continued crying. It was silent for a few minutes before he continued the conversation.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why can’t I get pregnant?”

“You know that’s not your fault.”

“Is it enough for you? Am I enough for you?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“If I can’t give you a kid. If I can’t get pregnant, despite everything we’ve done, despite every effort we’ve made... will I be enough? Won’t you want more?”

“Don’t. Don’t even think like that. Don’t say that. Of course, you’ll still be enough for me.”

You softly shook your head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said that all you want in life is children. You want at least one son and one daughter. And you want to name one of them Dustin, and one of them Robin. And you’ve told me that you want to have a hundred grandkids so you can spoil all of them. And if I can’t give that to you-”

“Stop. Stop talking.” He gripped your hands tighter. “I don’t care. If you can’t give me that, that’s okay. More than anything, I want you. I want you, even if we don’t have a hundred grandkids.”

You felt more tears fall down your face, hitting your legs. He tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Why?” you asked.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why wouldn’t you want someone who could give you that?”

“Because I don’t want just anybody. I want you. I’d live a thousand lifetimes without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

“But you want a family.”

“Baby,” he chuckled. “We’re already a family. You and me, we are a family. We don’t need a child to be a family. Hell, we can adopt a dog or a cat if we wanted to. And that would still make us as much of a family as people with kids.”

“But we both want kids. I want kids. I want to be pregnant, I want to give birth, I want to hold the baby after they come out. I want to celebrate their first steps, their first words, their first birthday. I want to do that.” He didn’t say anything. “How am I supposed to please you if I can’t even get pregnant?” you mumbled.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I mean, we’ve always been taught that in marriages, in order to be a good wife and please your husband, you should have kids.”

“Who the hell taught you that?”

You raised your eyebrows. “School, my family, everyone. I’ve grown up hearing that in order to be a good wife to my husband, I have to give him kids and that’s how we’re supposed to please you.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been taught to only expect kids from my wife. They’ve been feeding you that bullshit?” You nodded. “For how long?”

“All my life.”

“I’ve grown up learning from my mom that, even if I don’t have kids with the person I marry, I should find someone that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

“Steve-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to bear a child to please me. I am so madly, deeply, stupidly in love with you. There is nothing you can do to make me not love you. You hear me?” You didn’t reply. “Why do you think I proposed to you and married you?”

“You wanted to start a family, but not outside of marriage. Isn’t that why every guy gets married?”

“Nope. Not even close. I mean, that’s a factor, but do you know the real reason I married you?” You still didn’t answer. “I married you to be with you,” he said as he poked you lightly on the chest. “I married you so I could spend the rest of my life with you. Obviously, I do want a family, but, like I said, I’d go a million years without kids if it meant I got to be with you.”

You were only crying harder now. “Steve-”

“I am so fucking in love with you, Y/N. Do you want to know how long it took me to get that ring-” He pointed to your engagement ring on your finger, which was joined by your wedding band, “after we started dating?” You shook your head. “Three days.”

Your eyes got wide. “What?”

“Yep. Three days into our relationship, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You know why I didn’t propose sooner?” You shook your head again. “We weren’t eighteen. That was the only thing holding me back. I had to wait two years to propose to you because we had to wait until we were adults.”

You looked down at your ring. “They let you buy an engagement ring at sixteen?” you chuckled.

“I guess so. I got it, didn’t I?”

You smiled. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too.” You squeezed his hands.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we take a break from trying? I mean, we’re only twenty-three. We have time. I know it’s stressing you out. Your head always hurts and you’re always sick. Let’s just wait a little while.”

You nodded. “That would actually be really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can have sex just to have sex, not to make a baby.”

“Absolutely.”

You looked at him and he gave you a small smile.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I think I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed softly. “And if we can’t have our own kids, we can adopt,” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“Take a kid or two out of the system.”

“Absolutely,” he repeated.

You got on your knees and hugged him, the two of you squeezing each other tightly.

“Did I mention that I love you?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Because I do.”

“I’m sure,” you giggled. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, he looked at you. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Seriously. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

You pulled him in for one last kiss before heading to the kitchen to start dinner.

—

You, Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Robin all sat in your dining room. For dinner, you made chicken burritos. The kids were all joking around and talking about the arcade when you decided to get their attention.

“So, me and Steve talked today,” you said, clearing your throat. They all looked at you. “I think... we’re gonna stop trying to have a kid for a little while.”

“What?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“We’ve been trying for four years. I mean, we’ve done IVF-”

“What’s IVF?” Mike asked.

“In vitro. It’s artificial insemination.”

“We’ve done that about six times,” Steve said. “And it hasn’t worked.”

“Nothing we’ve done has worked. So, for now, we’re gonna take a break. I mean, it takes a toll on us.”

They nodded. “Okay. Whenever you get pregnant, that just means we can have someone else to play games with and invite to the arcade,” Lucas said. “Even if we’re older.”

Steve rested his hand on your thigh.

—

Laying in bed and being Steve’s little spoon as he slept caused you to start thinking again.

You didn’t realize it before, but you were more okay with waiting than you thought you would be. Sure, you’d be slightly older when you were pregnant — if you wound up pregnant at all — but you were fine with it.

Knowing that you were with someone like Steve, who didn’t care if you couldn’t have kids, was a relief. You knew you married the right person, and you knew your kids would be right about you two being soulmates.

[the-end-of-art]

So why are we getting bullied into opening?

“I’m sorry, but it’s a fantasy” by Jeff Gregorich, Arizona school superintendent at The Washington Post

This is my choice, but I’m starting to wish that it wasn’t. I don’t feel qualified. I’ve been a superintendent for 20 years, so I guess I should be used to making decisions, but I keep getting lost in my head. I’ll be in my office looking at a blank computer screen, and then all of the sudden I realize a whole hour’s gone by. I’m worried. I’m worried about everything. Each possibility I come up with is a bad one.

The governor has told us we have to open our schools to students on August 17th, or else we miss out on five percent of our funding. I run a high-needs district in middle-of-nowhere Arizona. We’re 90 percent Hispanic and more than 90 percent free-and-reduced lunch. These kids need every dollar we can get. But covid is spreading all over this area and hitting my staff, and now it feels like there’s a gun to my head. I already lost one teacher to this virus. Do I risk opening back up even if it’s going to cost us more lives? Or do we run school remotely and end up depriving these kids?

This is your classic one-horse town. Picture John Wayne riding through cactuses and all that. I’m superintendent, high school principal and sometimes the basketball referee during recess. This is a skeleton staff, and we pay an average salary of about 40,000 a year. I’ve got nothing to cut. We’re buying new programs for virtual learning and trying to get hotspots and iPads for all our kids. Five percent of our budget is hundreds of thousands of dollars. Where’s that going to come from? I might lose teaching positions or basic curriculum unless we somehow get up and running.

I’ve been in the building every day, sanitizing doors and measuring out space in classrooms. We still haven’t received our order of Plexiglas barriers, so we’re cutting up shower curtains and trying to make do with that. It’s one obstacle after the next. Just last week I found out we had another staff member who tested positive, so I went through the guidance from OSHA and the CDC and tried to figure out the protocols. I’m not an expert at any of this, but I did my best with the contact tracing. I called 10 people on staff and told them they’d had a possible exposure. I arranged separate cars and got us all to the testing site. Some of my staff members were crying. They’ve seen what can happen, and they’re coming to me with questions I can’t always answer. “Does my whole family need to get tested?” “How long do I have to quarantine?” “What if this virus hits me like it did Mrs. Byrd?”

We got back two of those tests already — both positive. We’re still waiting on eight more. That makes 11 percent of my staff that’s gotten covid, and we haven’t had a single student in our buildings since March. Part of our facility is closed down for decontamination, but we don’t have anyone left to decontaminate it unless I want to put on my hazmat suit and go in there. We’ve seen the impacts of this virus on our maintenance department, on transportation, on food service, on faculty. It’s like this district is shutting down case by case. I don’t understand how anyone could expect us to reopen the building this month in a way that feels safe. It’s like they’re telling us: “Okay. Summer’s over. It’s been long enough. Time to get back to normal.” But since when has this virus operated on our schedule?

I dream about going back to normal. I’d love to be open. These kids are hurting right now. I don’t need a politician to tell me that. We only have 300 students in this district, and they’re like family. My wife is a teacher here, and we had four kids go through these schools. I know whose parents are laid off from the copper mine and who doesn’t have enough to eat. We delivered breakfast and lunches this summer, and we gave out more meals each day than we have students. I get phone calls from families dealing with poverty issues, depression, loneliness, boredom. Some of these kids are out in the wilderness right now, and school is the best place for them. We all agree on that. But every time I start to play out what that looks like on August 17th, I get sick to my stomach. More than a quarter of our students live with grandparents. These kids could very easily catch this virus, spread it and bring it back home. It’s not safe. There’s no way it can be safe.

If you think anything else, I’m sorry, but it’s a fantasy. Kids will get sick, or worse. Family members will die. Teachers will die.

Jeff Gregorich, superintendent of schools at Hayden Winkelman Unified School District in Arizona, shows results of a district survey. (Photos by Caitlin O’Hara for The Washington Post)

Mrs. Byrd did everything right. She followed all the protocols. If there’s such a thing as a safe, controlled environment inside a classroom during a pandemic, that was it. We had three teachers sharing a room so they could teach a virtual summer school. They were so careful. This was back in June, when cases here were starting to spike. The kids were at home, but the teachers wanted to be together in the classroom so they could team up on the new technology. I thought that was a good idea. It’s a big room. They could watch and learn from each other. Mrs. Byrd was a master teacher. She’d been here since 1982, and she was always coming up with creative ideas. They delivered care packages to the elementary students so they could sprout beans for something hands-on at home, and then the teachers all took turns in front of the camera. All three of them wore masks. They checked their temperatures. They taught on their own devices and didn’t share anything, not even a pencil.

At first she thought it was a sinus infection. That’s what the doctor told her, but it kept getting worse. I got a call that she’d been rushed to the hospital. Her oxygen was low, and they put her on a ventilator pretty much right away. The other two teachers started feeling sick the same weekend, so they went to get tested. They both had it bad for the next month. Mrs. Byrd’s husband got it and was hospitalized. Her brother got it and passed away. Mrs. Byrd fought for a few weeks until she couldn’t anymore.

I’ve gone over it in my head a thousand times. What precautions did we miss? What more could I have done? I don’t have an answer. These were three responsible adults in an otherwise empty classroom, and they worked hard to protect each other. We still couldn’t control it. That’s what scares me.

We got the whole staff together for grief counseling. We did it virtually, over Zoom. There’s sadness, and it’s also so much fear. My wife is one of our teachers in the primary grade, and she has asthma. She was explaining to me how every kid who sees her automatically gives her a hug. They arrive in the morning — hug. Leave for recess — hug. Lunch — hug. Locker — hug. That’s all day. Even if we do everything perfectly, germs are going to spread inside a school. We share the same space. We share the same air.

A bunch of our teachers have told me they will put in for retirement if we open up this month. They’re saying: “Please don’t make us go back. This is crazy. We’re putting the whole community at risk.”

They’re right. I agree with them 100 percent. Teachers don’t feel safe. Most parents said in a survey that they’re “very concerned” about sending their kids back to school. So why are we getting bullied into opening? This district isn’t ready to open. I can’t have more people getting sick. Why are they threatening our funding? I keep waiting for someone higher up to take this decision out of my hands and come to their senses. I’m waiting for real leadership, but maybe it’s not going to happen.

It’s me. It’s the biggest decision of my career, and the one part I’m certain about is it’s going to hurt either way.

(https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/08/01/schools-reopening-coronavirus-arizona-superintendent/?arc404=true&campaign_id=9&emc=edit_nn_20200803&instance_id=20930&nl=the-morning®i_id=72340436&segment_id=35086&te=1&user_id=e60ae3c4dd2d7adddb2ce123ccc9fad4)

[amethystpath-writes]

“The Deadly Call”

When I was in 7th or 8th grade, I wrote a terribly horrific story in my writing competition. I did comp again my freshman year of high school and am now considered one of the greatest writers in my state- which is pretty cool! This is a rewritten version of what I wrote at my first competition! 

TWs in the tags. Please, please, please heed them before reading!!

******

When I was a small child, about four years old, my mother passed away from an illness that couldn’t be treated, and my father became an alcoholic. Cliché, right? Well, late me make it even more so. My father was always angry; yelling at me for anything that came to mind. I often stayed in my room and listened to music- my favorite way of coping. When I wasn’t in my room, I was usually running down streets asking everyone I saw for pocket change so I could buy food for myself. Da didn’t work, and he didn’t need to since his brother, my uncle, was too kind for his own good.

At fifteen, I moved in with my best friend- if you could call us best friends. We didn’t talk much, but her family was caring and took me in when they heard what my living situation was like. If they knew what I did now, I’m not even sure they would kick me out, but they’d be displeased.

I’m sixteen now, and I gamble most nights. Most of those I gamble with are adult men with tattoos covering every inch. There are a couple of scrawny fellows who got kicked out of their homes for drug addictions and whatnot. Some are pretty women you’d never expect to see in such places. I’m probably the biggest oddball, being a kid and all.

Gambling is a bit dangerous, as you probably already know. The tattooed guys aren’t as scary as most people think. They’re actually pretty sincere for the most part, but every now and then you have one of them who gets pissed off they lost. I barely made it out this one time- one of the guys threw a beer bottle at my head: not nearly as scary as my father though. I made it out alive.

Tonight, I only recognize two people. A woman with black hair a purple streak. She has a pretty piercing in her nose- one of those studded jewels. Guess that’s not really a ring though. The other is one of those scrawny thirty-year olds who got kicked out by their parents. I’ve seen him a few times, usually in the crowded bars where no one pays attention to what’s going on around them. Everyone else is new, though, including the host. He looks a little familiar, but it’s probably just the beard. Lots of men have brown bushy beards.

The basement here is stingier than the others. Most of them have windows at the very top, just above ground level, or there’s otherwise a hole dug outside of the house to allow for a window for ventilation. I’m pretty sure the bearded man made the basement himself though, didn’t think about how much he was killing himself with all the smoke trapped in here. You can hardly see the warm, dim lights through all the smoke.

**

I have managed to win by some miracle. There’s a chorus of grunts and ‘aw man’s’, but no one objects. Rules were put in place that wouldn’t have even allowed for cheating, so I’ve won fair and square. There have been other times in my gambling career that others have questioned my honest win. There was one time we had a coin flip between myself and the guy who challenged me. I picked tails; he picked heads. I won the coin toss and won the money. It was a big pot, several hundreds of dollars, and when I got back to the house, I didn’t even have a place to put it discreetly.

“Kid, I got another pit going on tomorrow night for winners of the last month.” It’s the bearded man. I glance back at him as I’m headed towards the door, but shrug. Hosts don’t usually hold multiple pits within the same month. It gathers too much attention. If I had realized he already held one, I wouldn’t have come today.

“Nah, it’s alright. I should be heading back home. It’s getting cold out and it’s a long walk.” I go for the door again, but Beardy speaks up again.

“You sure? There’s a lot in the pot. You’re looking at several thousand in a night. If it’s the roster you’re worried about, I got it downstairs. You can come with me to look.”

Several thousand? That amount of money…I could pay my friend’s family back for all that they’ve done for me. Maybe I could even put my dad into rehabilitation, ween him away from the alcohol. It’s not too late for that, right?

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll have a look.”

**

Well the basement hasn’t changed since I left it before. It’s just as smoky- that’s what happens when you don’t have windows in a basement you smoke in. I’ll probably develop lung cancer from being in here, but…but if there’s a chance I can help my father and repay my friend, I have to take it, right? Several thousand dollars is more than any jobless sixteen-year-old can ever hope for.

“Right down here, kid.” The bearded man is several steps below me and disappears to the left of the stairs. The roster is probably in that little storage closet he has on the other side of the room.

I finish walking down the stairs, my foot landing on the stone flo-

My bottom lands on the stairs behind me, my head bouncing off a stair above me. Only thinking of the pain that has erupted in my skull, I sit up with a hand held to my head. There has to be a bruise there already, but before I can check for one, something wraps around both of my ankles and I’m dragged forward, head thunking a second and third time before finally landing on the floor. My eyes flutter open and closed too slowly and I can’t tell what I’m looking at. My vision is blurry. I don’t even know what happened? Where am I again?

The blinks are becoming longer.

I think I’m about to pass out.

My head hurts.

What is that above me?

I don’t think I can keep my eyes opened anymore.

**

As I open my eyes, I don’t recognize where I’m at. The panic takes a moment to set in as my vision clears. It’s then that I take a large breath, probably the largest as I’ve ever taken.

My feet act on their own- or at least try to, but they’re caught on something. I can’t think. I can’t think. Why can’t I move my feet?

Some amount of sense is finally knocked into me and I look down at a pair of wrapped ankles. I’m in the bearded man’s basement. I’m still in his basement and my legs are tied. And my hands are tied. And there’s something in my mouth and the corners of my lips hurt and my hair is stuck to my face and and and-

“Iris, it is, right?”

My heart is beating too fast. Too fast. I squeeze my eyes shut. If I just close them then it means none of this is real, right? If I close my eyes, then this all becomes a daydream. If I close my eyes-

“I’m going to cut to the chase,” the bearded man says in my head. It’s in my head, right? I’m not in his basement. I’m not- “I have a coin. Now, last time you and I were in the same room with a coin, you walked away with all the money I was supposed to get to save my daughter’s life.”

What? No. No, no, no,no,nononononono. It can’t be him. This can’t be the same guy. But it is. But it is the guy, the one who challenged my win so long ago.

“I already took what you earned last night, but you have a better prize I want. So, it’s going to go like this…”

I jump, eyes flying open as I push myself back, a cold touch on my neck. He’s knelt now, an arm stretched out. So, it’s his hand. It’s his hand on my neck. I don’t like it. I don’t want it there. Please get off. Please get off me. Please get off. Please. Please. Please.

“I’m sticking with my guess from last time; heads. And I’m sticking with that guess”- he laughs and I can feel my hands shaking behind my back- “because what I want from you isn’t money anymore. My daughter is already dead. You killed her when you took that money from me in our first pit together. I want your head for hers. I can’t give you a brain tumour, but I can certainly do you something worse.”

The hand retreats from my neck, but I wish- oh God- I wish it would have stayed. I wish he would have never moved his hand. I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was with my father. I wish I could hold a picture of my mom.

“I sharpened this while you were passed out. Didn’t mean to do that, by the way.” I can’t stand this. I can’t look. That knife- machete- whatever it is- I can’t…I need to get out. I need to- but I can’t move. I can’t move. I can’t move! “I was just trying to catch you by surprise so I didn’t have to deal with you struggling, but this actually worked out kinda better.”

“Mph!” I can’t talk. I can’t beg him. Can’t beg for my life. Can’t tell him I have a lonely father and a friend and family that care about me. Can’t tell him- can’t tell him anything.

“Right, well, I think it’s time for the toss. Heads, I get yours. Tails, I’ll flip again.” How can he smile at me like this?

How can he- can he- can he…I can’t think. I need out. I need out. Please let me go. Please let me go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your daughter died. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me go.

“Would you look at that.”

He holds the coin up to my eyes and I can’t help the whimper in my throat, can’t help the stronger cries, and the impossibly more shaking hands of mine. I can’t breathe. I can’t. This isn’t happening. This is not happening to me.

“Heads on the first try. Chin up sweetheart, unless you want me to take a couple hacks at your pretty neck.”

I scream.

[annerbhp]

Lucky

- part one

- part two

- part three

- part four

- part five

- part six

- part seven

- part eight

Part Nine

Harry can confidently say that he has never passed quite so pleasant of an afternoon on the Hogwarts Express in his life.

And it’s not just because he gets to spend a great deal of it kissing Ginny.

Kissing Ginny. He still has a hard time believing it, despite the fact that she is still sitting right next to him, her arm pressed against his. Solid and real.

It’s something he’d been imagining and uncomfortably dreaming about for a while now, but not something he ever had hopes of actually coming true. And the real thing is so much better than his sodding pillow. So, so much better.

They haven’t spent the entire time kissing, of course, just as content to chat aimlessly, and for all Ginny is sometimes a complete mystery to him, they never seem to lack things to talk about. She also doesn’t always agree with him, having a way of asking him questions that make him pause and consider, but not feel like she’s nagging him, and he isn’t really sure why that is yet.

Even when they aren’t though, like right now, he doesn’t feel panic like he has to come up with something. They aren’t kissing or talking, just sitting here, and it’s strangely…great. 

Like it’s maybe too good to be true. 

“What?” Ginny asks.

Harry shakes himself, realizing he’s just staring down at her, and he really needs to quit doing that. Especially with their imminent arrival approaching. And holidays at the Burrow. For two weeks. With her entire family.

That thought helps wipe whatever ridiculous expression he’s doubtlessly sporting at the moment. “Nothing,” he says.

“Hmm,” she says, like she doesn’t buy that for a moment, but she also doesn’t press.

There’s a knock on the compartment door just a moment before it stars sliding open. “I’m coming in,” Hermione announces.

“Yeah, we can see that,” Harry says.

“Oh,” Hermione says, glancing at them. “I just wasn’t sure…”

“Don’t worry,” Ginny says, voice overly bright. “We finished with our illegal potion-making at least, what?” She turns to Harry. “An hour ago?”

Harry nods. “Sold them all too. Hope that first year doesn’t misuse that Draught of Living Death.”

Ginny shakes her head solemnly. “That would be a shame.”

“Or mix it up with the love potion,” he says. 

Ginny stifles a laugh, turning her face towards his shoulder, and Harry suddenly feels like he could take on a thousand dementors.

Hermione just sighs, grumbling under her breath about how unbearable couples are. 

Ginny looks up at him, eyes still sparkling with mirth, and he nearly leans over and kisses her.

“I should probably get back,” she says.

Almost against his will, his hand tightens around hers, and it’s only then he realizes her hand has ended up in his at some point and hasn’t left.

Ginny’s eyes dart towards Hermione, and he supposes she feels they’ve tortured her enough for one day. “I should go say goodbye to Smita and Tobias and get my things.”

“Yeah,” he says, knowing it would be petty to make her stay any longer. “I guess I’ll see you on the platform.”

She nods. “Yes, you will,” she says, and then she’s lifting up and giving him a fleeting kiss, just to the side of his mouth, like this is something they might do now.

She pulls away, looking a little self-conscious, and all Harry can do is look back at her, certain that stupid look is on his face again.

She gets to her feet, her hand squeezing his once before pulling free. She looks over at Hermione. “I hope you have a nice break, Hermione.”

She looks up at Ginny. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to a little peace and quiet.”

Ginny laughs. “I can only imagine.” They regard each other for a moment. “Well, happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” Hermione says with a nod.

Ginny turns for the door, smiling at Harry before reaching for the latch.

He doesn’t think he’s imagining that she takes an extra moment before opening the door, her shoulders squaring and chin lifting. He only catches a glimpse of her face as she leaves, just enough to see that any warmth or softness in her expression have completely disappeared.

Harry thinks he hears someone say her name in the distance before the door slides shut, cutting off all sound from the hall.

*     *     *

The platform is loud with crowds of people, steam billowing up over the sound of various pets complaining against too many hours spent in cages. Calls of ‘Mum? Where are you?’ and ‘Dad! Over here!’ and ‘See you next term!’

They find Hermione’s parents first, Harry saying goodbye to her before glancing around for the Weasleys. Ron is already with them when Harry finds them.

Molly sweeps him up into a hug, Arthur shaking his hand.

“Now where is Ginny?” Molly asks, looking around.

“You seen her, Harry?” Ron asks, with an all-too-innocent tone that tells Harry he clearly saw his sister come down to the Gryffindor end of the train. Though why he would say that in front of his parents, of all people…

“Um,” Harry says, panicking. 

“Neither of you saw her?” Molly asks.

“I walked right past you, Ron, at least twice,” Ginny says, appearing as if from nowhere. “Though I can understand why you might not have seen me, distracted as you were.”

With Lavender attached to his face, Harry assumes she means.

Molly frowns, glancing at her son. “Why were you distracted, Ron? What have you been getting up to?”

Ron sputters, ears turning red.

“Oh, nothing,” Ginny says breezily, as if her threat to expose Ron’s relationship with Lavender hadn’t been delivered loud and clear. “He was just really into a chess match. I think he probably took a small fortune off his dormmates.”

“Ron,” Molly says, clucking her tongue. “What have I said about gambling? Did you brothers’ experience at the World Cup teach you nothing?”

“I promise, Mum,” Ron says, looking relieved. “I wasn’t doing it for money.”

Ginny lets out a quiet huff of amusement and then crosses over to Arthur, giving him a giant squeeze. Arthur lifts her up off her feet a little bit, Ginny laughing and smacking his arm.

“Dad, put me down!”

He drops her back to her feet, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, clearly content to have mortified his daughter just the right amount. 

“Shall we get moving?” Arthur asks.

They collect up their things, pressing close as they line up to go out through the barrier. At one point, Ginny brushes up against Harry, grinning at him, his stomach doing a silly little swoop that nearly sends him crashing into the wrong pillar.

Once safely out on the other side of the barrier, Tonks and Kingsley are waiting for them.

“Wotcher, Harry,” she says with a grin, snapping a giant pink wad of bubble gum. 

“Are you expecting trouble?” Harry asks. It’s not that he isn’t happy to see them, it just seems a bit overkill.

Kingsley smiles at him. “Just being cautious.”

“Right,” Harry says, the whole world seeming to rush back in at once.

***

In the cars provided by the Ministry, Ginny sits between Tonks and her mum, Harry, Ron and her dad sitting opposite, with Kingsley in the front with the driver. They’ll likely get home in half as much time this way.

Harry, of course, seems to think it’s a giant imposition on everyone, like it’s a lot of fuss over nothing. Ginny isn’t sure if it is or not. Tonks and Kingsley hardly seem the sort for overreaction. But then, there’s a lot she doesn’t know about the situation.

Ginny amuses herself by talking with Tonks, even as she is more than aware of the strange stony silence between Ron and Harry, the two of them giving each other looks when the other doesn’t see.

It’s enough to make her wonder exactly what kind of conversations they’ve had about Harry dating Ginny.

Dating. That still seems completely unreal to her. What is that even going to look like?

Harry looks up, catching her staring, giving her a fleeting smile before darting a look at her parents, as if wondering if they’ll see.

Ginny sighs.

In no time at all, they’re pulling up to the Burrow, unloading their things and saying goodbye to the aurors. Ginny runs her things up to her room, the space feeling familiar and yet too small somehow, the way it always does when she first comes back.

She takes the time to unpack everything, telling herself she’s just being responsible and not that she’s trying to buy herself time.

Two things have become abundantly clear this afternoon. One, Harry is clearly less than comfortable with the situation. And two, Ron is planning to get as much mileage out of last night as possible. Ginny suspects her warning shot back on the train platform will only go so far. Ron may very well decide short term payoff is worth his long-term misery, stupid sod. Which will only make Harry more miserable.

Only made clearer when it’s time to sit down at the dinner table, Ron and Harry having some sort of an unspoken staring contest. Like Harry might try to sit next to her or something. Like Ron is both egging him on and warning him against it. Merlin.

Ginny solves the problem by sitting down next to her father, leaving Harry and Ron to sit across from her like usual. She tries to glare at Ron, but he is deliberately not looking at her. 

Harry is the one who is constantly looking around at everyone like any one of them might attack him at any moment. Like he’s really beginning to regret the entire thing.

In that moment, Ginny can see two long weeks of awkwardness ahead of them. That will only get worse as more and more of her brothers arrive. They probably should have spent a little less time on the train kissing and a little more time discussing how they were going to approach this.

Molly finally sits down with the rest of them, sighing a bit as she gets off her feet. “So how was the Christmas party?” she asks Ginny. “Were the robes alright?”

It’s hard to believe that was only last night. “They were great, Mum. You outdid yourself.”

Molly tries to demur but look really pleased.

“Harry went to the party too, you know,” Ron helpfully supplies, clearly hoping to make them both squirm as much as possible, the git. One would think he wanted his parents to know about Lavender. Like any of them have the tiniest hope of no news making its way out of Hogwarts to one of the many, many Weasleys.

“Oh,” Molly says, looking at Harry with a fond smile. “Did you enjoy yourself, dear?”

Harry looks like he’s about to swallow his tongue. “Um, yeah,” he says. “It was, uh, nice.”

Ginny can’t help but make a small sound of amusement at his word choice, and he looks up at her in alarm.

“It was fun,” he amends, like he’s scared he’s offended her, or made her think he hadn’t had a good time. “Really, really fun.”

Ron opens his mouth, no doubt ready to add to Harry’s discomfort, maybe mention how late Harry had come back to the dorms, and Ginny’s had just about enough of this.

“We went together,” she says, speaking over Ron. Cutting him off at the pass is definitely the quickest way to deal with this. She will not let him make them all miserable for sodding weeks.

Harry gives her a surprised look, like he wasn’t expecting her to just blurt it out like that.

“You and Harry?” Molly asks, immediately picking up on the blood in the water.

Ginny doesn’t reply, just holds Harry’s gaze, hoping he realizes that this is really the easiest way. Or maybe just giving him a chance to back out. Because part of her is wondering if he’ll deny it, play it off as something they did as friends, if he’d hoped to keep it secret or something. Maybe despite everything, he isn’t really interested in anything more than—

“Yes,” Harry says, voice forceful enough to cut into her thoughts. “We went together.”

Ron’s eyes are wide, as if he can’t believe they just admitted it like that.

Arthur looks up from his dinner as if he hadn’t really been paying attention until now, clearly trying to catch up.

It’s Molly who looks between them, as if trying to ferret out each and every clue. “How lovely,” she eventually says. 

“It was,” Ginny says, still looking at Harry.

He smiles, his shoulders relaxing, like maybe he’d expected to get chucked out of the house or something. “Yeah.”

Ginny smiles back.

“So, Ron,” Molly says, looking across the table at her son. “About this gambling…”

Ron lets out a groan of complaint. “Mum!”

[feathered-serpents]

The Official Post About the TMA Dragon Age AU

I talked about this before but have now finally made a long ass post with everyone’s roles + past roles but cleaned up. I love TMA and Dragon Age just That Much (Only the first couple descriptions are Super Long and the rest are under the cut) 

(If there’s typos in this I’m sorry this has been in my wips for so long I’m so TIRED OF LOOKING AT IT) 

The Tower

All Circles of Magi are governed differently depending on the templars that run them, this circle is known for having some...odd practices. The mages within are largely tasked with the study of the more “forbidden” practices. Especially the Fade and demons. They’ve become known for their expertise in this area, and reports of demonic possessions or any other “dark and forbidden” occurrence is brought to them.

This is done with the Chantry’s consent, with the belief that the understanding of such things is the best method to learning to combat them, but it has given this Circle a bit of a reputation among the rest. It is allowed by the Chantry under the assurance all research is done under Knight Commander Elias’ strict supervision, and all findings are given directly to him.

The tower itself is particularly tall, and has a glassy structure at the top that can be used as a viewpoint. Those passing by it and the few that live near find its gaze unnerving, gaining it the name “The Eye.”

Jon

Jon is an elven man, not unskilled in magic, but not nearly the skill level one would expect of the newly appointed First Enchanter of the circle. There were several mages more senior than him who could’ve easily taken the position after the previous Enchanter’s death, and no one is more aware of this than Jon himself. The obvious doubt coming from his fellow mages has not at all helped to ease the pressure of this sudden change in rank. Nor has the arrival of an apostate, allowed to enter the circle under the approval of Elias, and without any consent from Jon.

Regardless, Jon takes his role as First Enchanter incredibly seriously, trying his hardest to fill a role much to big for him. He has to, he owes Elias so much. 

Jon has been in the Circle since he was eight years old, far younger than most find themselves gifted with magic. Jon might have still been able to live outside a Circle for a few more years had it not been for the “incident in his village.” Never has anyone in the Circle heard him speak of it, Jon himself giving no indication that anything of the severity of what happened occurred, but Elias knows. 

Any other Circle would have executed him instantly for what he did. Child or not, the whole village saw how he summoned a demon to kill a boy in his village. Sometimes evil is simply bred from birth. But Elias took him in, and has not whispered a word of it. 

Martin 

A half-elven man, though Martin is an example of the rare scenario in which a half-elf looks more elven than human. His father the elf, and his mother the human, his father walked out on their family when his mother began to show signs of some sort of illness. Martin was too young to remember him, but his abandonment left his mother with a deep bitterness towards Martin and all elves, something he had to quietly live with. 

Martin has, unlike most mages, lived the majority of his life outside a Circle. He began to show signs of magic when he was fifteen, and disappeared from normal life because of it. Doing his best to go unnoticed so he could continue to live outside of a Circle and care for his mother. Martin never used his magic openly, even going as far as to conceal it from his mother, but he did use it to assist him in making potions to ease her pain as her illness worsened. To this day, he does not know his true magic talents, if he has any beyond potion brewing at all. 

He was only recently turned over to the Circle after ten years of life as an apostate. He doesn’t know how he was discovered, and has had trouble adjusting to life inside a Circle. Where he’s under constant supervision and his First Enchanter determined to hate him for his “dangerous lack of skill.”  

Tim

Tim doesn’t seem to take the study of magic nor the practices of the Circle seriously. He constantly toes the line of what’s “allowed” in a circle tower, making him the bane of the Templars and a controversial figure among the mages. Some say his antics are fun, while others say it brings on unneeded- and unwanted- Templar attention. 

The reality of it is that Tim is actually a very skilled mage, always surprising people with what he knows, and he hates the Circle to his core. He and his brother both were mages, taken from their home young, and when the time came for their Harrowing, the proving that they are able to master their magic, and will not be a danger, Tim passed, and his brother did not. 

Sasha

A talented mage, and many believe, if the Knight Commander was going to chose such a young mage to be the new first enchanter, it should have been her. If Sasha herself is disappointed, she doesn’t show it, what is she going to do about it? No, Sasha would rather focus on keeping herself busy, she’s in a tower after all, it can feel very small very quickly if you don’t have something to do.

She is one of the tower’s most prized researchers, and she is particularly fearless in their studies in demonology, and while he hasn’t made her First Enchanter, Elias has indeed taken quite an interest in her. 

Daisy and Basira 

Two of the most notorious Templars in the tower. “Daisy” as she is called by her partner, is the Knight Captain, one step below Commander. Elias keeps a frighteningly tight hold on all the Templars below him, but he especially seems to have quite the hold over her. She is feared by the mages, as she is known for dealing the harshest punishments. Her gaze is inescapable, the mages say she stalks the halls of the Tower like some hungry animal, waiting for your single misstep, her excuse to strike. 

Basira is often seen with her, and while she isn’t held on as tight a leash nor is she as cruel, she never speaks up against her partner’s actions. Making her no more favorable in the mages’ eyes. 

Georgie 

A Chantry scholar, with an interest in the study of the occult, anything forbidden caught her eye, this made her a bit of an outcast amongst her fellow sisters. But what did she care? Georgie’s research eventually lead to her briefly gaining the ability to study in the Eye, she being one of the very, very few to willingly seek out and ask for entrance into the tower. She was allowed, but just barely. She was permitted to study in the library under only the strict supervision of the templars as well as assistance from a tower mage. This assistant, came in the form of an Enchanter by the name of Jon. 

He did indeed help her with her studies and in the process the two formed a romantic relationship that they were able to carry on in secret for quite some time. They were both smart enough to be very, very careful, and carried the relationship almost exclusively through notes and whispers, it was thrilling for a time, but where could it go? The relationship ended, as one could argue it was always doomed to, and the two have not seen each other since. 

Georgie did go on to publish some of her studies in books. Several of her works were banned by the Chantry, but they have earned her a bit of notoriety, and just might have found their way into the tower’s library. 

Melanie

An apostate, like most apostates, one that never stays in one place for long. The Chantry IS aware of her, as she tends to leave, at least in their words “a path of destruction” in her wake. 

The reality of it isn’t as dire, but she is more than willing to use her magic to defend herself, and that magic might become a bit untamed if she’s angry, and she might be angry often. What? Wouldn’t you be? She’s never known another way to be, never known another way to stay safe. She doesn’t like it. She knows this is all because one woman said one line hundreds of years ago, and people have decided to damn her for it. She didn’t have to live like this. Wouldn’t you be angry? 

Elias 

Knight Commander of the Eye. All things considered, he is a rather...lenient Commander, selectively at least. He is known for being especially merciful towards apostates, while many Knight Commanders execute adult mages that have thus far lived outside of a circle for their “danger to the tower mages” Commander Elias will take them in, and offer them a place in his tower. It doesn’t exactly matter what goes on IN the tower after that, at least those mages are allowed to live somewhere. 

Of course, mages in the tower tend to go missing often, but who outside is going to notice? 

He claims that the research he has the mages doing on the Fade and demons is known and approved by the Chantry, but the reality is if the Chantry knew exactly what went on inside this tower, and what was being allowed, his Circle would be annulled in an instant, and Elias is well, well, aware of it. But what’s the worry? So long as he is Knight Commander, the Chantry will never find out, he’s quite proud of his ability to forge reports. 

The realities of Elias’ existence are far, far worse than anyone can imagine. Elias is one of the original Tevinter mages that sought to enter the Fade, extending his life through grizzly, hellish blood magic. Thousands of years ago, he and his fellow mages entered the fade to take their place on the throne of the Golden City, but we all know the story, there was no throne, and the city was black. 

But what destroyed Elias’ fellow magisters sparked something in him. Oh, there was a city, empty and godless, with a bare throne for the taking. Whoever sits in it, becomes the god of this world and whatever world comes after. This is what the Eye is truly researching, a way back in, a way for Elias to wear the crown of the gods.