#would have fought him on it if he had put up a fuss (i imagine he would)

[arsenicflame]

thinking about how all the rest of blackbeards crew had left by the time stede found the revenge

thinking about how ed was laid out in such a respectful way, like he was someone wanted to mourn

thinking about even after all he said, after mutinying on him, izzy could never really leave ed

thinking about how after all he did for them, all he lost, our crew couldn't leave him either

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.

[soapsilly]

Are you jealous? - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also NSFW?

Summary: Zoro is not the jealous type. At least he never has been. But when he finds out about his girlfriend's crush on Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates and one of the Four Emperors that rule over the New World, he's not so sure about that anymore.

(Y/N/N) = your nickname

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

"What are you reading?", Zoro asked his girlfriend at the breakfast table. The whole crew was as chaotic as ever but (Y/N) hasn't taken her eyes off of the newspaper in her hands once since sitting down that morning, sipping her coffee every now and then, not even acknowledging Sanji refilling her cup multiple times already.

"The newspaper, Silly", she answered without looking up.

"I know that. What's so interesting though?"

"Red-Haired Shanks", she answered almost methodical, her eyes still scanning the paper.

That name sparked their captain's interest, the silly trick he was busy with long forgotten.

"Shanks?", his face lit up, "He's awesome! What about him?"

"Oh, that's right! You know him!", (Y/N) actually put the newspaper down for the first time this morning, "It's nothing exciting really. He's been seen on some island... They just printed his bounty again. I guess to provide an incentive or something", the girl shrugged.

Luffy let out a hearty laugh, "That's not gonna work. Shanks is way too strong"

"He really is, huh?", she leaned her face in her hand as she leaned forward eager to hear more.

"Looks like someone's having a cruuush", Nami sing-songed.

"Maybe just a little bit", (Y/N) held her fingers up in a pinch, "but can you blame me? He's handsome, strong and apparently he's a good guy if Luffy is anything to go by...", she counted on her fingers.

"What? Shanks isn't handsome", Luffy laughed.

"Luffy. Have you seen the man?", the girl feigned shock.

"What the fuck? (Y/N/N) that guy is like 20 years older than you", Zoro spoke up.

"Well yes, but you know what they say, right? On old boats one learns sailing", she shrugged.

"What kind of saying is that?", Robin chuckled.

"A foreign one, I think", she squinted trying to think of an answer.

"A stupid one, that's what it is", Zoro furrowed his brows not sounding amused with his girlfriend's shenanigans.

"Oof, what's gotten into you? You're in an even worse mood than usual...", Nami spoke up but didn't get an answer anymore as the swordsman all but stormed out of the dining area.

(Y/N) grimaced, "I better go check that out"

Once outside she quickly found her boyfriend polishing his swords.

"So, are you gonna tell me what that was about?", she asked him as she sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. But instead of an answer all she got was a grunt.

She nudged him in the side, "C'mon, Baby... What's going on? Are you jealous?"

She smiled in disbelief, teasing her boyfriend. Zoro wasn't the jealous type and she knew that. He never cared about other guys. He sometimes even encouraged (Y/N) to let random men in bars buy her drinks so that he wouldn't have to. There was no chance he had a problem with this now.

"You do realize that dude only has one arm, right? What is there to be jealous of?", Zoro tried to sound unbothered.

"What the-? Shanks is still one of the strongest pirates there is. He's an emperor of the sea and before he lost his arm he routinely fought Dracule Mihawk... just for fun", (Y/N) was in awe, "Besides, you only have one eye and you're still pretty great"

She leaned over to press a kiss on the mosshead's cheek, but when her boyfriend only huffed in return, she paused to think for a moment. He couldn't actually be jealous over an innocent crush... She didn't even know the man, why would he make such a fuss over it? But then it struck her - he never cared about all those other men because he just knew that they could never compare to him. He was much stronger than them. Better in any way. But Red-Haired Shanks wasn't like other men. He was strong. Stronger than Zoro. Stronger than Luffy even. A fact that made the pirate hunter feel inferior. The girl grew annoyed at her unability to notice how insecure her boyfriend was.

"Zoro", she tried to get his attention but he avoided to meet her eyes, keeping his face down, still busy with his katanas, "Zoro. Look at me", she told him firmly, placing her hand on one of his to stop him from what he was doing.

When he finally did look at her, she could see how uncomfortable he was with the situation. He didn't mind being vulnerable with her but this situation was different. He already felt insufficient as is - no need to talk about it. He already expected her to make a heartfelt speech about how she only loved him and about how he didn't know how amazing he is but when she grinned at him, he furrowed his brows.

"You're an idiot. You know that right?",

"What? You're calling me an idiot now? I'm not the one trying to cheat!", he thought he was going crazy here.

She couldn't stop herself from laughing at his reaction. She knew him well. Having a serious talk would get them nowhere. If she wanted him to open up she needed to poke the bear a little bit.

"Cheat on you? Where is that coming from? I've never even met the man!", she laughed knowing that he was just in his feelings.

"Well we're getting farther and farther into the New World. It's only a matter of time until we'll eventually run into him and his crew..."

"So the first thing I'll do when we finally do, is to fuck the living shit out of Red-Haired Shanks? Do you think that badly of me or is it what you would do if you were in my situation?", she raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not!", he actually sounded offended.

"Oh, you're too cute", she cooed but turned serious for a minute, "Zoro, I'm serious. I would never chose anybody above you. You're it for me"

Zoro sent her a tight-lipped smile, still uncomfortable with the situtation but accepting her point.

"Besides", she continued in her usual bubbly voice, "we don't even know if Shanks would even want me"

"What the fuck (Y/N)?", Zoro wasn't sure he heard her right but once he saw her bite back a devious smile he knew she was up to something.

"C'mon... I'll make it up to you", she got up and pulled him along with her to the sleeping area, locking the door behind them.

As soon as she made sure that no one would disrupt them, she attacked his lips with her own, pushing him down on the mattress that the two of them would share most nights.

"Fuck, (Y/N/N)", he groaned into the kiss as she was straddling him, grinding her own hips against his already growing lenght. He didn't expect her to take charge like that, especially not after he basically called her a would-be-cheater. He didn't complain though.

She broke the kiss only to rid them of their shirts. He used the opportunity to take a good look at the girl on top of him. She looked beautiful, her lips already swollen from the make out session. He couldn't help but imagine what those lips would look like wrapped around his cock. As if she read his mind, she pressed a last kiss on the corner of his lip before she slipped down from his crotch. Zoro was just about to complain about the lack of friction, when she continued kissing down his neck, his collar bones, his chest - along his scar - down his abs, below his navel before stopping above the hem of his pants. She smiled up at him, not that silly smile of hers that he loved but a lustful one one that made his cock twitch in his pants.

"You're killing me", he sighed but hurried to get his pants off, freeing his already aching cock.

"But you love me for it", she looked up at him before pressing a kiss on his tip, earning a hiss from the mosshead.

He swore under his breath as she took more and more of him in her mouth, wrapping one of her hands around the base of his shaft to move in the same rhythm as the bopping of her head.

He threw his head back as his girlfriend used her lips and tongue on his tip, taking it in deep in her throat and then almost releasing it completely when coming up with her head again. It didn't take long for him to feel his orgasm approaching and he was sure she could tell from the familiar twitch aswell.

"Babe - ah fuck - (Y/N) stop", he panted, trying his best to hold back from cumming.

"What's wrong?", she asked him as she released his cock from her mouth - a string of saliva still connceting her lips to his tip.

"Was close... didn't wanna cum yet", he muttered.

She knew exactly what that meant. When she crawled back up to him, Zoro pulled her in for a deep kiss, flipping them over so that the girl was now lying underneath him.

She arched her back into him as his hand wandered down her body between her legs. His fingers tracing over the lace of her panties.

"Fuck you're so wet already... Didn't even touch you yet", he mumbled against the skin of her neck where he placed open mouthed kisses all over, lightly biting down on the skin above her collar bone to mark her as his.

She tried to retort something smart but choked on her words as Zoro hooked his fingers in side of her panties, yanking them down suddenly. She hissed as the cold air hit her newly exposed pussy.

She let out a loud moan as his pointer and middle finger started to gently stroke her folds before stopping to cirlce her clit.

"Zo- Zoro... Please", she didn't even know what she was begging for but couldn't help it. His teasing was turning her crazy.

Zoro liked hearing his name out of her mouth. He liked that he was the one to make her feel this way. He smirked to himself as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Fuck, you're making me weak. Tell me, who's making you feel this good? Huh?"

"You are!", she moaned, "Zoro, this is all for you. I belong to you"

The swordsman bit his lip as he increased the speed with which his hand rubbed her clit. He could feel his hand drenched in her juices and knew he could fuck her right then and there but first he wanted to see her come undone before his eyes. He could sense that she was close from the way she held her breath. He knew her body like his own. He could see the signs.

"You're doing so good, baby", she could feel his breath against her skin, "Cum for me. Come on now, (Y/N/N). Cum on my fingers"

A loud moan errupted from her lips as the familiar knot in her stomach region finally burst. She muffled the sound by biting in her hand, shuddering beneath him with no sign of Zoro stopping the movement of his hands. Only when tears started to pool at the corners of her eyes, did his hand finally slow down.

He sank down into the pillows, pulling her into his side, his hand lazily stroking her thigh as she breathed heavily. As soon as she caught her breath, she turned to him, a loving smile on her face.

"I thought, I was supposed to make things up to you?"

"Well, good thing were not done yet", his voice was low as he attacked her lips with another hungy kiss. He was just about to crawl on top of her when (Y/N) stopped him. She gently but firmly pushed him back down and broke the kiss only to straddle the swordsman beneath her once again. It was usually Zoro that liked to take charge in the bedroom and (Y/N) never complained - she enjoyed being spoiled by her boyfriend - but this time she was determined to be the one to make him feel good.

He knew it was his own fault. He didn't have to stop (Y/N) from sucking his cock earlier. He could've blown his load in her mouth and she would've swallowed like the good girl she was. He didn't want to wait though. He wanted her then and there - much to his dismay now. His lenght was throbbing uncomfortably and it felt like heaven when she finally lowered herself on his cock, steadying herself with one hand on his chest and the other on the wall behind his head. Zoro's hands found their way to her hips almost automatically, his calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. They moaned in unison and she leaned forward placing wet kisses along his neck but she didn't move, knowing that he would ruin any kind of rhythm she would attempt to ride him at.

"Fuck, Baby. Don't make me beg...", he panted as his hips thrusted upwards to get some kind of relief.

She let him. His hands roamning her sides - up and down - clawing at her skin.

As he finally calmed down a little - after what felt like an eternity - she started moving her hips, barely raising up from her seated position but rather rocking back and forth. Slowly.

She could feel Zoro's fingernails digging into her thighs but she didn't mind the sensation. In fact, she enjoyed it. As she looked down the mosshead beneath her, she couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked like this. He was watching her through hooded eyes, mouth slightly agape. She leaned down to capture his lips in a sensual kiss but the swordsman had other plans as he used the opportunity to loudly smack his girlfriend's ass, grabbing at it, earning an even louder yelp from the girl.

"Oh, I see how it is", she whispered in his ear. He could clearly hear the smile in her voice.

With that she picked up the pace. Riding his cock faster and more forcefully now. Her tits bouncing to the rhythm. A loud 'smack'ing sound filled the room as her wet pussy came down on his cock over and over again. His hands grabbed at anything they could reach, incoherent moans falling from his lips. She had never seen the swordsman this desperate.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. (Y/N), don't stop. 'M so fuck- fucking close", he told her trough gritted teeth. For a short moment, (Y/N) thought about stopping - just to fuck with him - but then decided against it as all of this was to make up for making him feel bad. She didn't abandon the idea completely though, keeping it locked away for when the time was right. Whilst she was already fantasizing about when that would be, she could feel the familiar twitch of Zoro's cock inside her.

"Yes, Love", she cooed, "Cum inside me. I'm so needy for you. Only you. No one else could ever make me feel this good, Fuck."

She didn't have to tell him twice, hearing those words out of her mouth paired with the way she was riding him so effortlessly was enough to send him over the edge, gripping her hips so tightly, she was sure there would be marks.

She slowed her movements as she rode out his high before completely stopping them once she felt him finish. As he guided her off of him, she collapsed into the pillows, both of them completely exhausted, a light film of sweat coating their bodies. He pulled her into his side once again, her head now comfortably resting on his chest. Neither of them saying a word. The only sound that filled the room were the heavy breaths and the occasional peck here and there. It was Zoro that eventually broke the silence.

"I- uh.. I guess I should get jealous more often, huh?"

[bella-goths-wife]

listen i don’t know if you’ll wanna make this part of your lost boys x child reader but bear with me

this is a story that actually happened to me, but thinking of the boys reacting to this makes me laugh so much dvsjdbdj

when i was around 5-6 i went camping with my parents, one of them was carrying boiling water near me, tripped on a branch, and spilled the hot water on me

i got thrown into a cooler filled with ice so i wouldn’t get hurt 😀

it’s the funniest thing ever to me, cause just imagine a vampire chucking a child gently into a cooler like 🧍🏻🧍🏻

Father lost boys accidentally burning daughter reader

Father marko x reader x father Paul

Thank you so much for requesting, I love reading them :)

It was a quiet day in the cave, suspiciously quiet. Paul decided he needed to fix this so he found his usual partner in crime, marko. Marko was currently having his day with you and Paul thought this added to the fun.

So Paul scooped your six year old self up and took marko to the bonfire pit that had recently killed a family of hunters at only two hours prior.

“Do you like the fire baby?” Marko cooed at you while you enjoyed the heat of the fire near your skin. You nodded back to him and squealed as Paul picked you up roughly.

“Are little arsonist” Paul teased as he stuck his tongue out and gave you an affectionate peck on the nose as you smiled and yanked his hair in playful revenge. Paul mocked hurt and almost dropped you.

“Not so rough Paul” Marko snapped similarly to a mother hen as he fussed over you while Paul spotted something, but put you in markos arms gently and went to explore while you and marko danced around.

“Check it out marko” Paul said as he emerged from the other side of the fire pit with a pot that had steam coming out of it, Paul’s hands burnt by holding it but it quickly healed because of his vampiric powers “looks like the hunters had some back bone”

“What is it?” Marko questioned as he put you down and walked closer to Paul

“Seems like holy water” Paul said freakishly nonchalantly “the steam burns a bit”

Marko stops in his track and looks at Paul with a shocked face.

“Put that down!” Marko demands as he backs away from Paul in fear

“Aww what’s the matter marko?” Paul teased as he walked closer “scared?”

“Paul get away” Marko yelled as his eyes dart around to find an exit “that shit could kill us!”

“I’m hurt that you don’t trust me” Paul faked being hurt by markos distrust as he got closers “it’s not like I’ll drop it”

Paul thrusts the pot upwards and fakes dropping it causing marko to flinch and scramble to get away but Paul only got closer with the hot liquid.

“Just an accident babe” Paul smirks at markos fear, not taking the situation seriously. So much so that he didn’t notice you walking closer from behind marko.

Paul goes to fake another drop but in doing so he actually does drop it. This caused marko to run and you to freeze as some of the water splashed from the ground and hit your exposed shoulder and collar bone.

You let out a high pitched wail as the boiling water hit your exposed skin. Tears built up and fell down your cheeks as it felt like you had just been lit ablaze.

Marko was still in shock and fear over the holy water nearly going on him and couldn’t snap out of it to help. Surprisingly Paul was the one to go into protective dad mode, not in a smart way though.

Paul grabbed you and brought you to his chest quickly, the holy water remnants burning his Paul’s as he hissed in pain but your cries of agony distracted him enough to help you first.

He spotted a large water cooler and thought on his feet as he dropped you gently into it thinking the cold would stop the boiling water from hurting you.

You let out a cry at the change of temperature and sensations and that seemed to snap Marko out of his fearful trance as he sprung up an ran to you as your cries grew louder.

“Get David” Paul yelled at marko as he tried to keep you from getting out of the cooler as you fought pathetically against his hold.

Marko ran to get David while your cries grew louder and alerted Dwayne who always stayed close by wherever you went, he took of running to get to you.

“I know it hurts baby I’m sorry” Paul said trying to comfort you as your whimpers of pain quietened slightly. Your cries were physically hurting Paul as his heart broke slightly at the thought of him hurting his daughter. David was gonna kill him.

David, Marko and Dwayne arrived at the fire pit and froze at the sight of your burnt arm as the smell of burning flesh surrounded them.

They rushed you back to the cave where they gave you some medical treatment for your burn with the help of star who was mortified at the situation.

After your burn was dealt with they noticed that you had a fever, probably from being held down in a ice cold water.

You had to spend a week in recovery for your fever and burn while the boys looked after you and catered to your every need.

After Marko explained what happened he was punished slightly for not being able to help quicker and he was only given a warning and was told to look after you. Paul however received a harsh beating and was starved of blood for the same amount of time you had to recover for. By the end of the week Paul was released from the dark room he had been kept in and was sickly pale and only felt better after drinking a local woman’s blood.

You surprising got out of it pretty unscathed with only a small burn mark on your shoulder that could be disguised as a birth mark if anyone ever saw it.

David banned Paul from seeing you for a week and had told him that if he ever got you hurt again that he would starve Paul to point of death and then only feed him pigeons blood for a month.

He couldn’t have his prodigy child getting killed now could he?

Congratulations your story has become cannon! :)

Hope you enjoyed

Love ya ❤️

[xelasrecords]

Cold Wrath

Han Jumin x Reader

This is undoubtedly the hardest fic I had to write due to personal reasons, but I had to. I wanted to explore how controlling tendencies can manifest in a relationship where two people experience control in polar opposite ways. What is security for one could be a threat to another. During Jumin and MC's early relationship period, I imagine this kind of problem would surface from time to time. The question is whether they could tackle the conflict together and come back stronger.

Words: 2.2k

Masterlist Read on AO3

-

Things were not fine. Jumin had crossed a line that he had set himself, a line that should have been there since the beginning. The early days of your relationship with him were as such: most of the time, he made you feel calm and protected. You could be true to yourself and he would not mock you for your interests and whims. He was loving, and he fought hard to keep his nightmares at bay. Nightmares that threatened to sink their anxious claws into his shoulders, hissing at him that he would lose you if he couldn't ensure your safety. Or worse, you would be in harm's way and it would be his fault.

It was a long, arduous battle to fight, and sometimes the nightmares won.

When they were unleashed, you were their first target. Jumin would keep a laser focus on you, fussing, controlling, moulding your life, making sure everything was to his standard. It was a momentary cure to calm him down, but for you, it was the very reason for your instability. You couldn't find your footing, not when he constantly pulled the ground from beneath your feet, layers and layers of new ground to adapt to, only to find yourself plummeting onto yet another land of jagged rocks. You kept stumbling, falling with nothing to hold on to.

This was not a daily occurrence, you knew, but it was often enough to stress you out, especially when you had your own life to balance. At his best, Jumin was mindful of your boundaries, not forcing his help when you adamantly refused it. At his worst, he could bulldoze over everything if he thought it was the right thing to do for you.

During this time, his definition of help clashed with yours, and you found it hard to appreciate it when you were forced to receive it, no questions asked, no discussions held. Help was only helpful when it was received with open arms by the other party. Who did Jumin think you were if he couldn't even speak to you about a simple matter? Who were you to him in this relationship? Were you important at all?

It was a no-brainer that with Jumin, the good greatly outweighed the bad. You did not have to remind yourself for it to be true. However, when he couldn't stave off the nightmares, they would also crawl up to your ears, insidious whispers warning you that one day, Jumin would put a leash too tight around your neck, cut off your breath and string you limp as he wrested your autonomy from you. You would be his marionette, forever at the mercy of his will while you had none.

But tonight, you were no wooden doll. With a job that continuously pushed you to work overtime, topped with an impossible workload and insufferable colleagues, you were a strained cord pulled taut, threatening to snap at any time. Unfortunately, the final tug came in the form of your fiancé. You heard from Jaehee that Jumin had turned down a magazine interview request, a joint interview with you as a newly public couple after your high-profile engagement at the RFA party without consulting you.

Anger was a roiling monster in your gut. He had to know that you were not okay with this. You had to talk to him. He needed to know how wrong it was.

The penthouse was completely dark, with only the sharp glimmer of the city outside as illumination. Jumin wasn't in the living room, so with a sense of urgency, you crossed to the bedroom where you knew he would be waiting. It was unusual that he came home earlier when he tended to work longer hours, but there he was, standing in the middle of the room, pausing mid-walk. The man clad in silk pyjamas looked an awful lot like a deer caught in the headlights. No, not a deer. A giraffe would suit him more, what with his lanky limbs and ridiculously tall build.

"What on earth are you doing there?" You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, feet planted firmly on the floor.

"I heard you came home, but I also detected hostility in the way you marched in here, so…" Jumin trailed off. Reluctance preceded his usual assertive speech and gait like he wasn't sure of his footing with you. If there was a time you had ever shaken him so, you couldn't recall it.

"Hostility." You laughed without humour. "I have the right to be angry when you took away my right to sit for an interview."

It took a few seconds before he saw where you were coming from, but when he did, a shadow passed over his face. "You don't mean you're upset because I declined your participation in the magazine coverage?"

"I have made myself clear, Jumin."

"It was just an interview, and your workload at your job has been astronomical the past few weeks. I didn't want to burden you by adding more things to do."

"That's for me to decide," you shot back. "It was for both of us, yet I have no say in this?"

"You were so busy that I couldn't find the right time to ask you," Jumin fired back just as quickly.

You walked up to him, stopping when he was a few steps away from you. "Don't make this about me. Tell me the full truth." Jumin did not have the habit of lying, but he did have the tendency to omit the truth when he thought it was better off unacknowledged, and you knew Jumin well enough to know when he was hiding something.

Jumin rubbed his temple with his fingers. "I suppose I'm afraid of the scrutiny you would receive from the public if you put yourself out there. What if I can't keep you safe when someone means you harm?"

"I don't know which is more appalling: the fact that you automatically assume I'm easily hated or that I will crumble beneath strangers' opinions." You tipped your chin up, challenging him to go on. You knew his fear had nothing to do with you and everything to do with his past coping mechanism, but it was insulting nevertheless.

He took one step closer, leaning forward. "You know that once you're out there, there's no going back. You'll forever be marked as a person deserving of judgement. Everything that you do will be tracked. Anything that you don't do will be criticised. That mark won't disappear, not when you're with someone like me."

"And you didn't realise this would be the consequence when you proposed to me at the party?"

"I did."

"But?" you pressed.

Jumin straightened his posture, hesitating to finish the sentence. "I failed to predict how I would feel if I see them putting you down."

You tore through your hair in frustration. "How about my feelings, Jumin?" you gritted out, trying to keep your tone level. Shouting would only escalate the situation, and you didn't want that. "Have you thought about them? Of how I'd feel if you leave me out of important discussions?"

"I didn't think you would be upset. I assumed you would feel more comfortable if I helped eradicate potential problems."

You scoffed. "Should I thank you for your generosity then?"

"That would be appreciated." He shrugged with such nonchalance that it riled you up even more.

"Can't you see what the problem is? You made assumptions about my feelings without taking me, the owner of those feelings, into consideration. Why didn't you ask me before assuming anything?" You glared at him, hoping it could sufficiently convey your rage.

"Because I thought you'd realise I did it for you." Jumin held your gaze, his eyes and words full of conviction that you couldn't agree to.

"It hurts, you know. I feel as if—" you had to stop to take a breather and looked away "—as if my opinion isn't as important as yours. I feel like I'm disrespected and robbed of my chance to weigh in on an important issue, especially one that concerns both of us."

It then dawned on Jumin, what the crux of the problem was. Instead of working together as a team like he had promised he would, he had left you out. It wasn't a surprise you were enraged. Rather, it surprised him that you were not throwing a tantrum or cursing at him. He might have been gripped by his nightmares when he decided to sequester you from the public, but it did not excuse the fact that he had hurt you.

He had hurt you, Jumin repeated the thought in his head in horror.

He stood there, looming over you, but never had he felt so small and ashamed of himself. "My love, I am terribly sorry." He took a step forward and halted, unsure if his presence was what you needed right this second. "I see now that what I did was wrong. The night before the party, I had assured you that whatever decision I make, I would discuss it with you first."

"Yes, you had."

"But I neglected to follow through with my promise." Jumin's voice was tinted with guilt. "I would feel hurt too if I were you."

You closed your eyes. Underneath the anger firing up your nerves, there was pain. Although you had stormed in here to confront Jumin, you had not processed your own hurt. Only after he verbally acknowledged your feelings did it hit you. You let the pain wash over you, feeling it course from your chest to the tips of your fingers and then let it go, your shoulders relaxing.

You didn't want to be angry anymore. The tight coil in your spine had loosened up.

Wordlessly, you made your way to the bed and perched on its edge, energy draining out of you. Jumin followed suit, maintaining his distance until you beckoned at him to come.

There was no need to tell him twice. Immediately, he found his place next to you, the silk of his pyjamas brushing against your dishevelled work attire. You observed his movement while folding one leg under you and twisting your body to face him.

Now that your fury had ceased, you could not help but wonder, "Why do you like to be in control so much?"

"I'd like to say that it's because I want to keep you safe for your own good, but that isn't a hundred per cent true. I think I want to protect you because if I could assure your safety, then my feelings would be safe too." Jumin looked down at his clasped hands. "I wouldn't have to face my rampant emotions, so instead of getting a hold of myself, I tried to control my external surroundings. Sometimes I get frightened by my feelings, so I turn away and focus on smaller, more manageable problems."

You studied the way his hair fell across his forehead, the tips of it almost touching his eyes. "You think your fears are unmanageable?"

"They feel like it sometimes, although to a lesser degree than before I met you," he admitted, shoulders slumped. "But despite liking control, I know all too well that the more you try to control something, the more it tries to escape. And when you see someone you love is desperate to run away, it makes you want to build a more secure cage, but it will only make them want to escape even more."

"That sounds like an exhausting, vicious cycle," you observed.

"One that I'm planning to break." He snapped his head at you, face stern with determination. "From now on, I will examine my actions before doing anything on impulse. I don't want to hurt you again. I can't."

You reached out to stroke his thigh. "Thank you for taking accountability. I appreciate you apologising to me."

"Do not thank me. It is only right that I right my wrongs. I want to apologise again for overlooking your feelings when attempting to soothe mine. I'm sorry." Jumin stopped your caress with a gentle grasp. "On that account, I can ring the magazine editor and set the arrangement if you still want to do the joint interview."

"I'll think about it."

He raised your hand to his lips, planting a light kiss on your palm. "You can take your time. They'll proceed with the schedule we provide."

You nodded and stared out the window. The city was always awake. Cars were bustling, indistinguishable from one another as they crawled through the streets below. The outside world did not seem so harsh now; perhaps people were going home too. In a city as lively as this, people were always going somewhere. Your head had been clouded with anger when you got back, but even then, you were looking forward to meeting your fiancé.

"Jumin, you know the interesting thing is?" you mused. "I think we're going to be okay."

Jumin followed your line of sight and uttered a soft but firm reply, "Yes, we will."

-

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

[lemonhemlock]

imo an underexplored part of Corlys is how admitting to Rhaenyra's children being bastards would slight both his son and him, and his entire house. He'd rather play make-believe than admit that for one, he arranged his gay son into an unhappy marriage which eventually led to his early death, and secondly, actually give the rumours that his son is indeed gay and can't produce children concrete affirmation. for a story so concerned with misogyny, the homophobia is so easily handwaved away as if these two are not integral in upholding of cishet patriarchy.

what you're saying is true, but, at some point, it becomes a matter of just cutting down your losses and doing some damage control. where was corlys when laenor was spending most of his time on driftmark gallivanting with knights while rhaenyra was popping out babies he had nothing to do with? he didn't do a damn thing about it

i actually had a conversation with @duxbelisarius today where he pointed out that the silent five (aka vaemond's cousins whom viserys ordered their tongues be cut out) actually fought for the greens during the war and three of them even died in battle, that's how deep their grudge went. not to mention the fact that the remaining two plotted to murder alyn after corlys' death so that he wouldn't inherit in their stead.

so all this make-believe happy families fantasy that i see team black peddling, about how luke & rhaena would have made a great power couple ruling driftmark in peace, because they love and care for each other or whatever, is straight-up delusional. the velaryons would have assassinated luke as soon as possible to get him out of the way and, had they been sent joffrey as a replacement, they would have done the same to him. rhaenyra was living in la la land for making such a fuss about driftmark, while corlys was absolutely incompetent as head of the family for putting his house in such a precarious position that his death would be followed by in-fighting and instability

i think that he perhaps DID eventually realise what a stupid idea that was and, in the aftermath of the luke debacle, decided to make sure driftmark at the very least goes to someone with velaryon blood, but he went about it in the most annoying and unhelpful way possible.*

can you imagine the audacity of this man to clown on (dead) rhaenys' memory AND on rhaenyra's arse at the same time in order to engineer driftmark to pass to HIS bastard son? all the while claiming that alyn was fathered by his gay son? who everyone knew was gay? and couldn't have fathered joffrey? otherwise why would you break the law** to give driftmark to laenor's alleged bastard instead of his alleged trueborn son?*** corlys must have taken lessons from rhaenyra herself, because that's the most boldfaced lie i ever did see

this man was so annoying FORREAL. was there at least one member of his family he didn't fuck over in some way? truly an example of being prideful to the point of stupidity

*not to mention, of course, that he already had legitimate heirs of his own body in baela and rhaena. and, lacking that, there were other true-born velaryons who could have inherited.

[EDIT: i'm wondering if this isn't a behind-the-scenes reason for daenaera being presented at the maiden's ball. daeron velaryon (don't get me started on the audacity of him being named daeron as well) was vaemond's son and also contested driftmark after baela & rhaena had been passed over in favour of alyn. so i'm wondering if baela didn't devise this little match to placate her cousin with a trade-off: if he couldn't have driftmark, at least his daughter would become queen]

**i'm saying he broke the law bc grrm himself states that it's unclear where precisely in the line of succession legitimised bastards fall. whether they go by birth order in between the other true-borns or they just go straight to the back of the line, behind all other heirs born within wedlock. so the legality of shoving alyn in front of everybody else is debatable at the very least

***idek how to call this, he is literally using his gay son to cover up his own arse and inadvertently implies that laenor was both cuckolded by rhaenyra (in that joffrey isn't his) AND that he broke his own marriage vows to rhaenyra by sleeping with another woman. he truly is a poet in the way he manages to implicitly insult everyone left and right

[shiningwonderland]

Camus (All Star)

Translator: Mimi (twitter: _mimisaurora)

Friend End - A Unison That Hates To Lose

A few days later. The day of the Christmas Live had finally arrived. 

There was nothing I could do at this point. I just have to trust in my senpais and watch over them. 

I'm very aware that my future depends on the outcome of this concert, but for today, I will forget about it and just enjoy everyone's performance.

Before the start of the concert, I stopped by the bustling dressing room.

Reiji: Oh? Did you come to support your big bros, Kouhai-chan? That makes me so happy. Rei-chan is going to give everything into it today!

Ai: You’re supposed to give it your everything. It’s literally your job.

There was nothing different about the way they were speaking to each other, but there was a different kind of tension in the air.

It was an electric mood unique to live shows.

The four of them were the opening act, so I shouldn’t bother them too much.

Getting to open the show is a great honor, but it also comes with a lot of responsibility.

I was about to leave the dressing room when Camus, who had remained quiet up to that point, approached me.

Camus: …Wait. Where will you be watching the stage from?

Haruka: I was thinking of watching from the wings.

Camus: Don't go there, get to the auditorium. There are reserved seats for those involved with the event.

Haruka: Will that be alright?

Camus: I don’t care. I’m the one telling you to go sit in those seats. So go.

Haruka: But…

Why… Then suddenly…

I really didn't know if I could go sit in the auditorium.

Camus was acting like the answer was so obviously that I could, but I’m someone who works behind the scenes…

Haruka: Um, I’m honestly scared to put myself in the audience…

Ranmaru: Hey. What are you guys fussing about right before the show?

As I stood there conflicted, I heard a voice addressing us and when I turned, I found Kurosaki-senpai looking in our direction from a little distance away.

Kurosaki: You look like you’re about to give in, woman.  ….Go on, go sit in those seats.

Haruka: But….

Ranmaru: Just go. You’ll understand why if you just think about it for a second. I can't imagine this idiot wanting someone to hear him sing…

Camus: Don’t interrupt me, Kurosaki.

Ranmaru: Huh? It’s not just your show. Don’t make things personal if you don’t like me butting in.

Camus: Shut up, you disgraced scion. You have no reason to help me.

The two of them glare at each other.

This is bad, if this keeps going, they’ll start fighting again.

Haruka: E-Excuse me. Please don’t fight before this very important show…

Ai: Again? I don’t know how they don’t get tired of this. Why don't you leave those two idiots alone?

Reiji: Can't we just say that they're really excited about it? Come on now, Kouhai-chan, go to the auditorium.

Haruka: A-Alright.

I looked back over my shoulder as Kotobuki-senpai pushed me along.

Camus-senpai and Kurosaki-senpai were still glaring at each other.

I very reluctantly drag my feet out of the dressing room.

The audience filled the venue with murmurs and a distinct excitement. 

Thinking about it, this would be the first time I would ever get to watch the performance of a song I’d written from the crowd. 

My heart began to race as soon as I realized. 

I will only be able to hear this song at today’s live concert. 

And I wouldn’t have been able to see it in its entirety if I'd stayed in the wings.

Haruka: … I wonder if Camus-senpai stepped in for my sake.

I thought back to how the four of them looked earlier.

At a glance, they appeared the same as they always have. But their chemistry was different.

Camus-senpai's demeanor especially seems much softer than it was when the unit first formed.

Despite his apparent indifference, he's been sharing his opinions and feelings with the other three. 

He reminded me of ice when we first met.

But I have no doubt that having friends, even if they constantly fought, was a good influence on Camus-senpai.

Haruka: The show is about to start…. I wonder if they’re on stand-by.

Camus-senpai and Kurosaki-senpai are probably still fighting....

I smiled a little at the memory.

Camus-senpai looks to enjoy himself a little when he argues with Kurosaki-senpai. 

Kotobuki-senpai and Mikaze-senpai, even though they look dumbfounded, were actually paying very close attention to the two of them. ......

I was witness to their world-class singing and performance many times during the process of creating the unit song. 

And their dedication to their work. 

When these four come together, they produce wonderful music.

I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to work with them.

Reiji: Ladies and gentlemen! And fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, welcome!!

The senpai stepped out onto the stage, illuminated by the dazzling spotlight, and the crowd went wild.

Ai: We’re QUARTET NIGHT! It is a great pleasure to be able to spend Christmas with you all!

Ranmaru: It may be the middle of winter, but who says it has to be cold? Let’s turn up the heat in here!

Camus: Now, ladies. Allow us to take you to a dream world unlike any you have ever seen on this holy day.

The concert commenced with a thunderous cheer echoing throughout the venue.

Kotobuki-senpai's enchanting voice instantly captured the hearts of the audience. Mikaze-senpai's angelic vocals thrilled the crowd even further, Kurosaki-senpai's singing drew cheers. 

And Camus-senpai set the place ablaze.

The four on stage were at times passionate, at times sweet, and at times blindingly radiant.

I could particularly hear the same, no, even more passion in Camus-senpai's delivery than when we had previously met together.

I was at the mercy of his singing, his dancing, and his overflowing charisma.

I had forgotten all about the heartache I had felt before and simply listened to his voice.

I visited the dressing rooms after the concert. 

The tension in the air was gone, and only the afterglow of the concert lingered.

I was still filled with excitement, but everyone else seemed to be completely normal.

Haruka: You all were amazing out there! It was a seriously wonderful performance!!

Camus: Hmph. Of course it would be.

Ranmaru: Wouldn’t be a concert if we didn’t tear it up like this.

The response I got was the same as usual. I happily rushed to Camus-senpai.

Haruka: Camus-senpai, t-thank you very much. Everyone’s singing sounded much more powerful listening to it from the front.

I realize now this is probably why you told me to watch from the audience!

Camus: Hn… Well, if that’s what you believe, then so be it.

Haruka: Yes! I was very impressed!

The moment I answered loudly, the lights were suddenly cut in the dressing room.

Haruka: ….Huh?

The lights were back on as soon as I glanced up at the ceiling. 

Was there a grid failure…?

But then, the lights began to turn off, and on, and off, and on….

???: Fufufu very fufufu impressed….

Haruka: That voice…

Everybody in the room braced themselves for what was coming next.

The light in the room went completely out after a couple more times, and who I believed to be Kotobuki-senpai standing near me, spun in the dark.

Saotome: Yes! I was also very impressed!

Haruka: P-President!?

I looked into the sudden bright light and watched how it had transformed into the president's figure.

Saotome: The song, that performance, I knew I wasn’t crazy to have put the four of you together!

Ranmaru: H-Hey, old man. What happened to Reiji…?

Saotome: Hahaha!! We actually swapped places at the end of the gig!

The real Mr. Kotobuki is right there!

The president gestured to the cleaning supply closet in the corner of the room, and the door slammed open, revealing a smiling Kotobuki-senpai from inside, waving his hand. 

I… didn’t even notice.

The president then spun around and pointed his finger at me.

Saotome: Miss Nanami! And choosing YOU as the composer was precisely the best choice! I’m a genius!

Haruka: T-Thank you! Then…

Saotome: Yes, YOU have successfully leaped over the first hurdle!

Haruka: Really?

Thank goodness….

I staggered on my feet the second I felt relieved, no longer keeping myself so tense.

Camus-senpai, who’d been standing next to me, caught me by the collar. 

Haruka: Hyah!

Camus: Don’t go tripping on air. You're a real handful, you know that?

Haruka: I-I’m sorry.

Saotome: Hahahaha! I’m glad to see you and Mr. Camus getting along very well! Then, I’ll catch you on the flip side!

The president stomped on the floor and left, launching himself through the ceiling. 

Camus-senpai silently stared up at the hole in the ceiling and then quietly set me down.

Camus: What are you going to do if you're not focused on the Song Festival still ahead?

He helps me to stand while subtly shielding me from the falling debris from the ceiling.

Camus: In any case… I look forward to it.

Haruka: O-Of course! Thank you so much!

Ranmaru: Don't get ahead of yourself. This time it was our singing that got her this far.

It’ll only be you singing her song at the Song Festival. Unless she writes a banger, there’s no way you’re winning.

Camus: You bastard.

Ai: The three of us will be up against you during the Song Festival. We’re not going to be holding back.

Reiji: There, there, everyone! Let’s at least enjoy the success of the concert today! Let’s go to the after-party, shall we?

Camus: I wasn’t aware. You can blast off to this party by yourself.

Reiji: Eh…. I’m no firework! But I guess Myu-chan can’t hang around. How about you, Ai-Ai?

Ai: I will not be going. There’s no reason for me to. I don’t drink either.

Reiji: Aw, you too? Alright, fine, Ran-ran! Let’s get some BBQ! My treat.

Ranmaru: I’ll pass. I’m burnt out. I just wanna go to sleep.

Reiji: Ranmaru passing on meat!?

Cool… I get it. Nothing I can do if you’re tired. We can reschedule this party for another time. 

The other senpai began getting ready to leave, ignoring Kotobuki-senpai, who slumped his shoulders and accepted the situation alone.

Mikaze-senpai, who was about to head for the exit, looked back in our direction for a moment.

Ai: ….See you. I’ll be heading out now. Good work today. Thank you for the great song.

Haruka: Ah… O-Of course! Thank you!

Ranmaru: …I’ll also get going.  Woman, your song was rockin’. Later.

Following Mikaze-senpai, Kurosaki-senpai also headed for the door.

Camus: ….Hn. Kurosaki, wait.

I watched as Camus-senpai seemed to think of something, and started to rise on his feet. 

But Kurosaki-senpai didn't appear to notice and walked out.

Camus: Grr… We should go back too.

Haruka: S-Sounds good.

Reiji: Ehhhhh. Hold on here, is everyone seriously leaving?

Haruka: I’m sorry. We’ll be heading out. I can’t thank you enough for today.

Reiji: You took the words right out of my mouth, Kouhai-chan! Your song was amazing! Goodnight!

I bowed to Kotobuki-senpai, who waved me off, and I followed Camus-senpai outside.

When we reached the promenade, we spotted Kurosaki-senpai a little ahead of us.

Camus: Hey, Kurosaki, wait. …You forgot something.

Kurosaki-senpai turned around with a raised brow when Camus-senpai called out to him.

Ranmaru: Ah? What do you two want?

Camus-senpai walked up to Kurosaki-senpai, opened his bag, and pushed something into Kurosaki-senpai's hand.

Haruka: That’s…

It was the teddy bear that used to sit in my Senpai's bedroom.

Ranmaru: Wha- You…!?

Haruka: It’s… the bear.

Kurosaki-senpai stared back at Camus-senpai in disbelief, his eyes wide.

Ranmaru: Camus. You… What are you trying to do?

Despite the furrowed brows, Camus-senpai’s attitude remained the same, and he huffed in the same way he always did.

Camus: Why the surprise? You were fascinated by this bear when you last came to visit. I’m giving it to you. Rejoice. 

Kurosaki-senpai gazed at the plush bear for a moment, as if drawn to it.

Ranmaru: Hn…. S… Screw that! I don't want this old kids toy!

He quickly comes to his senses and shuts him down.

Ranmaru: I mean, I wouldn’t want it. 

Kurosaki-senpai grumbled and pushed the teddy bear back. 

Camus-senpai humphed and pushed it toward him again.

Camus: Don't be shy. It suits you. Now carry it and go home.

Ranmaru: I told you I. Don’t. Want. It. Take it back with you!

Camus: You. Can. Take. It! You stubborn bastard…

The two pushed against each other with all their might.

Haruka: U-Um…?

The poor bear’s face was getting more and more squished between the two of them. 

Two completely adult men were pushing a cute bear against each other.

I probably shouldn't say this, but the scene was, how to put it, very surreal....

Ranmaru: What's with you! Why are you trying to give it to me?!

Kurosaki-senpai swatted away the hand holding the teddy bear, and silence befell the area.

Camus: ….

Ranmaru: ….

Now what did that mean?

I, who had been out of loop for a while, could do nothing but blink my eyes.

After a few more moments of glaring at each other, Camus-senpai laughed.

Camus: What kind of man do you take me for? All it took was a quick search to find out whose family it originally belonged to and the circumstances under which it was put up for sale.

Ranmaru: Guh….

Camus-senpai roughly shoved the teddy bear back into Kurosaki-senpai’s hand, flinching for a second. 

Once the bear was completely in Kurosaki-senpai’s hold, Camus-senpai made the most sour face I've ever seen.

Camus: I owe you one. ….But instead of thanking you. Take it.

Ranmaru: Huh? Thanks for what?

Camus: …You told me my singing held no passion. I laughed at such a stupid remark, but it didn’t make it any less true.

What I’m trying to say is… I have never poured my heart in a song before, but this wasn’t so bad.

So if you get it now, take it.

Kurosaki-senpai had been gawking at Camus-senpai for a moment before the corner of his lips curled into a small smile.

Ranmaru: Heh. I hate the idea of you thanking me, but if you insist, I'll keep it.

Camus: I said “Instead of”. I’m not thanking you for anything.

Ranmaru: Tsk. …What a pain in the ass.

Kurosaki-senpai chuckled again and lifted up the teddy bear.

He patted its cute head and smiled into its beady eyes.

Ranmaru: Well, you're coming home with me, Kumako.

It’s… been a while, and you're really dirty.

Wow… the way he speaks to it…

Haruka: Could it be that this teddy bear… originally belonged to Kurosaki-senpai?

The question slipped out, and Kurosaki-senpai jerked before tensing. 

Camus: Hmph. Why are you using something so archaic like “Kumako” instead of “Ku-chan”?

Ranmaru: How much longer are you going to stick your nose into this!

One word from Camus-senpai changes Kurosaki-senpai’s demeanor completely.

Camus-senpai maintained his typical confident attitude, chuckling with a grin, in front of Kurosaki-senpai, who was almost screaming at this point.

Camus: Don’t you worry. No further than knowing you can't sleep at night without that bear.

Ranmaru: ….

Kurosaki-senpai stared back in annoyance, but….

Eventually, the corners of his own mouth turned up into a grin, as if he’d just thought of something.

Ranmaru: Come to think of it, that thing about you two being together… You guys were lying.

Haruka: Ah…

I looked at Camus-senpai in shock, but Kurosaki-senpai continued on without caring about our reaction.

Ranmaru: That may have been a lie, but your feelings weren’t fake.

Huh…?

What is Kurosaki-senpai saying…

Ranmaru: …I mean, I did tell you to “find some passion”. It's in bad taste to get all hot and bothered over a woman, don't you think?

Camus: Guh… What are you….

Now it was Camus-senpai’s turn to gawk. Kurosaki-senpai looked absolutely cool, a complete 180 to what he’d previously just been. 

Ranmaru: Don't play dumb with me, Earl. I’d actually like to get an “apology” rather than a “thank you”.

Don’t you realize? You took out your problem on me. It’s hilarious to think of a mighty aristocrat being jealous. 

Haruka: Um… Kurosaki-senpai? I’ve been trying to understand what you’re saying for a while…

What is he going on about?

Whatever it was, Camus-senpai was clearly upset.

Camus: I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…

Ranmaru: I heard you called Ai’s place at the end of November. You pushed him to tell you how to quickly heal burns.

That got him to cut Kurosaki-senpai off, panicking.

Camus: H-Hpmh. There’s nothing weird about that. Mikaze collects all kinds of data. I just knew he’d be the best person to ask.

Ranmaru: That’s not what I think.  I’m just saying, what’s got a self-aggrandizing noble like you acting like you’ve seen a ghost?

Kurosaki-senpai glanced over at me.

Haruka: U-Um…?

Then just as quickly, he turned his gaze back on Camus-senpai and grinned again.

Ranmaru: For who on this green earth did the arrogant earl get so shaken up about...?

Camus: …You know very well the consequences that await you if you don't shut your vile mouth right now.

Ranmaru: What's going to happen? If you have a bone to pick, then come at me.

Kurosaki-senpai provokes Camus-senpai by beckoning him closer.

Camus: All the better. I was just thinking of teaching you a lesson about the idiocy of challenging a nobleman for once.

Ranmaru: Heh. This is gonna be fun. I'll send you packing.

Haruka: Y-You guys…

I was at a loss, it really looked like they were about to start fighting each other.

But…

Camus: It’s funny to hear you say that.  Don't be sorry for what you said!

Camus-senpai picked up a branch that had fallen on the side of the road, and held it up like a fencing sword.

He looked to be brimming with energy.

I guess… this is something that he just needs to do.

Of course, it was hard for me to understand Camus-senpai, and at times he even seemed cold, but…

I could also tell that having someone to quarrel with like Kurosaki-senpai, together with music, was gradually thawing his heart. 

It would be wonderful if the music I make could warm him even more.

I would like to share more of myself with Kurosaki-senpai and hope to understand him better…

Ranmaru: Don’t bother with cheap weapons and come at me with your fists like a real man. 

Camus: Ha. Naturally a savage man would fight in savage ways. Although, if I were to fight with a sword, I would have an unfair advantage. I will oblige.

Ranmaru: Spare me the small talk. Just shut up and hurry.

Haruka: W-Wait… You guys really shouldn’t.

It makes me happy to see Camus-senpai so lively, but if I don’t do something, they’re really going to start going at it.

Haruka: L-Let’s just drop it. Calm down…!

I tried my best to talk them down from the fight and put myself in between them.

Haruka: You two are tired from today’s concert, and I already prepared dinner for Camus-senpai….

I prepared chocolate fondue to celebrate, like I promised. Sounds good?

Camus-senpai looked over at me a little surprised.

Then he chuckled, placed a hand on my shoulder, and brought me closer to him.

Haruka: H-Huhhhhh?

Camus: My apologies, Kurosaki, but I must leave. I have other business to attend to.

Kurosaki-senpai suddenly stopped and his brows furrowed.

Ranmaru: Jeez…. Do whatever you want. This sucked anyway.

Camus: Earlier, you mentioned that I lacked taste, but that sounds like the talk of a sore loser to me.

Camus-senpai spun me, confused, so that my back faced Kurosaki-senpai.

Camus: You, too, should find someone you can be passionate about soon.

Camus-senpai held onto my shoulder for a moment, and then his grip loosened. 

Haruka: Huh…?

Camus-senpai? Who is it you’re passionate….

W-Wait!

*Haruka*

I looked up at him, but he seemed to be enjoying himself so much that I couldn't bring myself to ask him anything.

Camus: Let's go home, Haruka.

Haruka: To your place…?

Camus: Of course. You are still my servant, after all.

Camus-senpai cackled a little and walked off with a spring to his step.

Camus: Now do as I say. ...No objections?

His eyes, so beautiful that I could almost sink into them, looked down at me…

I nodded my head, just as I had done the day we first began to live together.

End

[witch-hazels-musings]

random fluff w/ itto please!! i adore how you write him :D

The Sun (protection), The Emperor (support), The Chariot (accomplishments) :: itto x gn reader | destined fate 

warning: sfw, fluff (appearances: arataki itto gang members, traveler, paimon)

You’d never been to a wedding before, or one you remembered anyway. There was a time when you were dressed up to go to a party but it wasn’t fun so you blocked out most of it. However, as you stood here, memories surfaced, floated in your mind as you walked into the venue. So, perhaps the statement wasn’t ‘I’ve never been to a wedding,’ and instead was ‘I’ve never been to one I cared about.’ 

To be honest, you didn’t really know much about the couple, but the festivities were hard to pass up and your company wouldn’t have taken no for an answer if you tried. 

“Oh maaaan, look at all this food!” Itto drooled as he eyed the piles of food littering table after table. You’d never seen so much decadence before. Wealthy people really know how to put on an event, you mused as you walked past a tray of delicious looking food. The smell was intoxicating but you fought against your desires, for now at least. 

“Itto, focus please.” You begged, anxiously tapping his arm while you looked for familiar faces. The gang said they’d all be here but no one was sticking out of the crowd. At least you knew you’d find Itto easy enough. If it weren’t he large, red horns or white hair, it was his height that make him stick out like a sore thumb. Not to mention he was still hardly wearing clothes, even after all your begging. 

“y/n, this is so unfair. I can’t just let this go to waste. AH! What if someone knocks into the table and it all ... falls to the floor.” He looked pitiful as his imagination crafted his worst fear. Poor puppy dog eyes gazing at you while you tried to figure out if it was appropriate or not to eat.

“Just a little.” You whispered.

Itto took your approval with great pride as he picked up a leg of meat and began chewing it eagerly. It was almost impressive how fast he ate but you didn’t bat an eye at the skeptical. Instead, you searched the crowd again until you found a friendly face. 

“Paimon!” You waved, relief spreading through you at the floating girl hovering above the crowd. Her face lit up and you made your way toward her while she pulled on her companions hair. “I didn’t expect to see you all here.” 

“We couldn’t miss out on the festivities!” 

“Paimon wouldn’t stop talking about the food.” The traveler corrected, a smug smile on their face. 

“Hey!” She stomped her foot in the air, fists hitting her hips as she puffed out her cheeks and gave her friend a stern look. 

“It’s alight, I have one of those too.” You pointed behind you at the lumbering oni who had scared most of the other patrons away while he chowed down. You sighed but didn’t try to stop him. 

“Oh, Itto’s here too!” Paimon beamed but you wondered if it was because of the Arataki gang leader or if it was the food he stood by. “It would be -- ahem -- rude not to say hello.” 

The traveler rolled their eyes and shook their head, “Go on.” They said and Paimon eagerly floated over to the table, hands clapping in delight. 

--

The four of you spent some time together. Your odd pairing a sight to see, but what soon was a simple ‘drawing of attentions,’ had turned into a ‘turning heads’ sort of affair when the other members of the Arataki gang showed up. It was far livelier than you had expected. After a while you began to feel a overwhelmed at the groups energy. So, quickly, you made your way free of them. 

You disappeared without any fuss and made your way to a small overlook. The decorations stretched all the way out here as every wooden beam was covered with lovely flowers. The best part about it though was its emptiness, its quietness, both were just what you needed. As you let out a sigh, you looked out across the sea of people. The wedding party was making their way through the crowd, hands waving to those who shouted congratulations to them, smiles bright and full of joy. You wondered what it was like to be that happy, to know you found your forever person. 

If that time would come for you - it would only be a dream. 

“Aha, found you.” Itto practically jumped in your field of view. For someone so large he managed to sneak up on you frequently. Perhaps he did it on purpose or maybe you were always so lost in your fantasies you blocked out the world. 

“Hello.” You giggled, arms crossed as you turned to face him. He was leaning toward you, lumbering hands resting on his knees to support his weight. Itto was always so bright, so lively, you wondered how he accomplished it all. 

“Why’d you run off, the party’s still rockin’.” 

“I needed a breather.” You explained, feeling a bit embarrassed. This was one other reason you didn’t go to parties much, they wore you out. 

“Well if this ain’t the best place to do that. It smells like candy over here.” He explained with a deep breath, chest expanding as he stood to his full height.

Itto always brought a peace to you no matter what he did. Perhaps it was because he promised to protect you, Celestia knows he could. Or maybe it was because he always knew how to make you smile, how to remind you of the good around everything. He was a ray of sunshine in a world full of clouds. 

“Are you having fun?” You asked, eyes watching his every movement. 

“Of course! But it’s not over yet!” 

“Um, yeah. What do you me-ah!” Itto pulled you to him and suddenly started to dance. His legs moved but you felt like he was dragging you more than leading you. With steps as large as fence posts you had to leap in order to keep up. “Itto!” You yelled but pulled your volume back in when strangers turned your way. “Sl-slow dooooown.” He pulled you closer and spun you around. The force knocked your thoughts from your head while you desperately tried to hold on to the straps of his clothes. 

“Open your eyes!” He shouted and you did only to find yourself directly below the pergolas decorated in rich, delicate flowers. You were transfixed, stunned, and felt lighter than you had all evening. The world below you faded away and above you was a heavenly display. 

As you reached your hand toward the flowers, Itto slowed until you could feel the petals grace your fingertips with their silk. The feeling grounded you, Itto held you. It was perfect. 

“Now you’re having fun.” Itto grinned, a laugh slipping between his teeth when you looked at him. Suddenly, he snapped his neck to the side and while you found the ground rather quickly, he made sure you were steady before letting you go. “Don’t move!” 

“O-okay.” You replied as he dashed away from the patio. Your focus drifted back to the flowers above you and you regretfully you didn’t take a flower as a keepsake.

There was a loud cry, a cacophony of voices riled up and spreading across the crowd. Confused, you made your way toward it until you saw a bumbling oni pushing through with something in his hand. He held it high and yelled something incomprehensible to the reaching hands who tried to touch his prize. 

“Itto?” 

“Haha! Sorry, I had to get it. Couldn’t let someone else take it now could I?” 

“What are you talking about?” You asked with a nervous chuckle, peering behind his broad chest to see what he hid from you. 

You jumped when he shoved a bouquet of flowers in your face. They were stunning, perfectly arranged - except for the small damage they took on their way to you. You had a feeling these held a different meaning than the other bouquets resting on the tables based on the way the party goers reacted. How their eyes shifted between defeated and proud, how the Traveler and Paimon pulled at each other as they watched you, and how the gang started crying, or worse, fainting at it all. 

“A-are these for me?” You asked, confused, but took the flowers in your hand.

“Of course, who else would they go too?” He seemed embarrassed but you didn’t know why.  “So um, my um -- pal -- no.” Itto twisted toward the group and you saw them wave him on. “Will you ... accept these ... from me?” He thrust his thumb as his chest and waited for your reply. 

“Yes, of course I will. How could I say no?” 

Itto was in shock but his astonishment shifted into pure joy and though you didn’t fully understand his meaning, you felt like had an idea as soon as he lifted you in the air and shouted, “YOU SAID YES!” 

Fate Made Event (May8-31) | Anthology

[imdonnalynn]

Not So Simple, But It Is (1/1) REPOST

Summary: Mal and River have a certain bond, but is Mal willing to take the next step?

Pairing: Malcolm Reynolds/River Tam

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,448

Warnings: None really, adult situations, talk of adult situations.

A/N: I wrote this over 15 years ago and it's one of the ones I actually still like so I'm reposting here on my tumblr.

Disclaimer: The characters of Firefly (series) / Serenity (film) do not belong to me so do not sue me for copywrite infringement.

----------

Mal sat comfortably in the pilot’s seat of Serenity just gazing out at the stars, thinking. A year passed since the crew risked their lives to uncover the Alliance’s lie about Miranda. A year since Wash and Shepherd died. And just five months ago they found a new pilot, Drake. Mal liked him well enough, and he meshed with the crew alright, but Zoë didn’t associate with him much. Understandably of course he would never be Wash. Zoë put up quit a fuss when Drake was brought on to meet the crew. She argued that River did just fine and no one else was needed. Mal argued in return that River was more useful on a heist for her mental abilities and combat skills. Mal would never admit aloud but he loved to watch River in action. She looked like she danced when she fought. Her mental state improved dramatically in the last year. She honed her abilities, reeled them in. Now it wasn’t so hard to block the crew’s thoughts out. Before Miranda she heard every thought and envisioned just about every memory. There’s no telling what secrets she knows about the crew. But she would never tell any of their secrets.

“Hey little one,” Mal said thoughtfully over his shoulder to River in the doorway. Behind him he heard her tiny feet against the floor as she made her way into the room to sit in the co-pilots seat.

She sat down and placed her feet in the seat and wrapped her arms around her legs loosely. “How did you know I was there?” she asked not prodding his mind. She liked to hear Mal talk and she would purposely find something to talk about just to hear his soothing voice.

“I’d know those tiny footsteps anywhere,” he teased glancing at her then back to the stars.

She rested her cheek against her knee and just watched him. The things she knew about him…would probably shock the rest of the crew. She knew stuff about him that Zoë didn’t even know. Then again, she knew stuff about Mal and Zoë that Wash had not known. That was the case with the crew in general. She missed taking a dip into his mind it was so…enticing but sometimes downright frightening. But it was wrong to just swim around in anyone’s mind no matter how harmless it may seem. People generally took what they thought and imagined for granted. It’s the one place where they have complete privacy, to keep their own fantasies, secrets, and desires. In Mal’s case she saw he was capable of such evil…just like her. She and Mal had more in common than people thought.

It would be so easy…

“What’re you doin’ little one?” his voice held a hidden meaning as he tilted his head to look at her. What he meant was…are you in my mind?

She nodded no against her knee.

He smiled lightly and settled further into the seat and stared back at her. For the longest time they just stared at one another. Something about her eyes were so comforting. They held such strength in them, and he needed that all too often. “What’s got you up and about?” he asked quietly.

“You,” she stated softly.

“Me?” he replied, not really a question.

She nodded then propped her chin against her knee. “You found a way in,” she smiled. “You always find a way in.” She blushed lightly and turned her gaze to the console before her. What the crew dreamed would sometimes make its way into her mind. She could easily block them out…all but Mal. He was her very own guilty pleasure. She knew he knew about her habit, but he never said anything to her aloud. She never told his secrets and he never told hers. An unspoken agreement.

“What did you see?” he’d never asked her before, and he didn’t know why he did now. He knew she understood that he couldn’t help what he dreamed of. Just because you dreamt something didn’t mean you were willing to do it or had done it.

“Dreams are answers to questions we don’t yet know how to ask,” she quoted softly.

What were dreams? Why do we dream what we dream? Are dreams a way of letting our subconscious play? Or were dreams somehow linked to the spiritual world? Were they visions of a possible future? One could never tell. Maybe they’re a way to express your darkest desires and not so excepted habits that everyone would disapprove of if you really fulfilled them?

“I felt it more than saw it,” she admitted softly glancing at him. Her heart leaped at the piercing gaze he held on to her. “I knew it was you…” she trailed off. “I don’t understand though.” She said shaking her head lightly.

He looked away and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Don’t understand what?” he asked knowing they were headed into dangerous waters. Was he ready to have this inevitable conversation? Was he ready to explain to River with words what he felt, or what he wanted?

“You hesitate…” she swallowed nervously. “You think I’m broken.”

Mal sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiked hair. “River…”

“…everyone thinks I’m broken,” she said sadly.

“You’re not broken River,” he reassured.

“But you think I am,” she pressed.

“I don’t think you’re broken,” he defended himself.

“Then why do you hesitate?” she insisted.

He looked at her sharply, “Because it’s not as simple as you want it to be. The things people do in life don’t just affect themselves but the people around them too. And for me and you…” he trailed off shaking his head. “…it just wouldn’t be right.” He whispered the last little bit.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away before he could see it. She wanted desperately to be seen as the young woman she was. Not the child she was when she and Simon boarded Serenity three years prior. She wasn’t the unstable seventeen-year-old psycho anymore. Granted she still had her spells but that was an unfortunate side effect of her treatment by the Alliance. When she did take a spell, it didn’t last so long, and they were very mild compared to her early days on board. She could fly the ship, go on heists and Mal had even let her make a deal or two with Zoë when he had to stay on board for some reason. So why wasn’t she good enough to be with?

He’s ashamed of you…her conscious whispered.

River gasped and jumped from the chair to her feet and looked frantically around the room. “No…” she whispered covering her ears.

Mal stood instantly and was across the room and in front of her in a matter of seconds. “River?” he took her face between his hands and made her look at him. “You, okay? What’s wrong?” he asked concerned. It’d been months since her last spell, and he hoped and prayed that he hadn’t caused her to fall now. She looked deep into his eyes and took a deep shaky breath. “Mal please, tell me the truth…I want to hear you say it…” she hoped he understood what she needed, what she craved.

Mal clenched his jaw and leaned his forehead against hers. “Truth is…there is nothing in this verse that I want more than to show you how I feel but I’m scared to death River. I’m scared I’ll hurt you more and that’s the last thing you deserve. I don’t see you as a child and I don’t think you’re broken.” He kissed her forehead and let his lips linger. “You are a gift…never let anyone tell you otherwise.” Slowly he traced his lips down the bridge of her nose and rested his lips against hers in a full but soft kiss.

River was assaulted with a wave of emotion and sensation. No one had ever showed her this much affection and it made her stomach clench. The sensations from another person's dream and the actual physical sensation were very much different. He felt so soft but hard at the same time and she wanted to feel more. Did the weight of his body feel the same as it did in his dreams? Her dreams?

“Thank you,” she breathed as they parted.

He shook his head slightly gazing down at her still cupping her face, “No…don’t ever feel like that.”

She understood now. It wasn’t just her he was worried about but himself too. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to go another step. But she would wait…she had too.

THE END

[enby-hawke]

Chapter 25- The Void Take You

Read From Beginning

Ship: Malcolm/Leandra, Mara/Carver Sr.

Words: 7108

Tw: implied tranquiliziation, implied child harm

It took a couple of days before Mara could be put on the list of accepted visitors for Carver. As soon as she was cleared, she drove up to Kirkwall’s prison just outside of the city, a tower with iron walls, barbed wire fences, and flat concrete. There was not a hint of green, no sign of life in the land except for the miserable prisoners exercising in the yard in their orange jumpsuits.

She couldn’t imagine Carver living here for the next couple of years. She couldn’t bear the thought of what it was going to do to him. She didn’t know how she was even going to survive being a single mother. She’d let herself feel safe in thinking she’d be able to count on Carver’s support, but she should have known better than to think the Maker would be kind to her. She knew what a cruel God He was.

She walked into the prison, checking in with a guard and putting her purse through a conveyor belt where it would be inspected. She was patted down by a woman guard, though Mara wasn’t sure why all this fuss was necessary. What was she going to do? Sneak a phone in her pussy and magically phase it behind the glass to him?

After they checked her identification, and made sure she was actually on the visitors' list and had an appointment, she was led into a blank white room filled with windows and chairs. She saw inmates already talking to their loved ones, children, husbands, wives, aunts, and nephews. She saw Carver waiting for her in the far end, his coffee-brown eyes lighting up with warmth when he saw her.

Mara fought tears as she walked across the room and sat herself down in front of him. She could hear the overlapping voices of the other prisoners' conversations, the dividers giving some semblance of privacy.

Carver picked up the phone that hung on the wall and Mara did the same. She sniffed sharply, not sure how to school her face. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you nobility? Why haven’t you made bail?”

Carver looked down at his neatly trimmed nails. “Considering everything that’s happened, I’ve been officially disowned. Technically my name is no longer Carver…”

Mara twisted her face. “Of course, it is.”

Carver lifted his eyes, his smile sad but genuine. “I’m glad you came. I really needed to see your face.”

Mara’s heart cracked. “I needed to see yours, too.” But not like this. Mara’s heart was shattering seeing Carver so defeated. She blinked back a tear she was fighting. He looked so much smaller in his orange jumpsuit, so much more human. His shoulders were sagging. She could see the stress lining his forehead and wrinkling his bloodshot eyes. His cheeks looked sunken, his beard and hair dull, and he looked so, so tired. Carver was a man full of love and life, and here he sat before her broken.

Carver closed his eyes, his face tense and strained. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Mara’s heart twisted in pain. “Why are you taking the blame? This isn’t your fault.”

“It is,” Carver gritted his teeth. “I knew better. I knew it, and I let it happen anyways.” He finally opened his eyes, wet and glistening. “I’m just sorry that it seems that you’ll have to raise your daughter by yourself after all.”

“My daughter?” Mara’s eyes scrunched up, confused and hurt. “What happened to her being our daughter?”

Carver’s lips made a wobbly line as he sniffed sharply, clearing his throat. “My lawyer says the usual punishment for this is about twenty years, but they are emphasizing my good record so it looks like the judge will let me off with ten. With good behavior, they say I can cut it in half…” Carver sighed raggedly. “But even five years is a lifetime for a child. It wouldn’t be fair to her.” Carver looked down, clenching his fist. “But the prosecution is pushing for the full twenty since I refuse to show remorse for my actions, so honestly I’m not sure what will happen.”

Mara found herself angry at his confession. “Why wouldn’t you show remorse? I don’t give a fuck if it’s not real. Carver, you have a daughter to think about now!”

Carver flinched, his shoulders dropping further than she thought possible. “I’m just so tired of lying I’m not sure if I can actually convince anyone anymore.” Carver looked up at Mara, a tender smile in his bleary eyes. “I’m not expecting you to wait for me. If you find someone else that makes you happy, I don’t want to take that from you.” His smile turned bitter. “I’ll probably be a completely different man by the time I get out.”

Mara was choking up, the tears bursting up through her throat. “Then we’ll both just get to know you again.”

Carver twisted his face. “Mara-”

“No!” she shouted so loud the guard’s head turned, and then the tears started to fall off her chin. “You’re the father of my child. I’m not just giving up on you! Don’t you give up now, either!” She reached out, wanting so badly to bring his face in for a kiss and tell him it was all going to be alright, but she just pressed her palm against the glass. “Please, Carver,” she pleaded, her voice desperate.

The tears Carver had been fighting sprang from his eyes and he hunched his shoulders in a sob. He looked embarrassed and he wiped his face with the back of his large hand. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I thought this was my last chance. I didn’t think I’d ever have a real family.”

Mara smiled through her tears. Neither did she. “That’s what we are now, Carver. Family.”

Carver’s shoulders shook as he cried and he pressed his pale palm against hers, his warmth faint against the glass. They stayed a few moments like this, knowing this moment would change them forever. 

Then through Carver’s tears, his lips grew an eager smile, so much brighter than before. “When I get out of here, will you marry me?” His dark wet face twisted in a grimace. “I’m sorry… this is probably not the right way to ask… and it’s much too soon…” His red-rimmed eyes met hers, “But I think if I had you to look forward to, the time would pass easier.”

Mara’s heart was soaring with joy at his question. And even though she was sitting in a prison, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world to land a man as pure as him. “It’s not too soon,” she slapped on one of her mischievous grins, her tongue tucking to the corner of her mouth. “With all the time we have, we can take it slow and get to know each other as you wanted.”

Carver’s glistening coffee-brown eyes lit up like the sun, warming her. More happy tears ran down his cheeks. “Is that a yes?”

Mara gave a playful salute winking at him. “That’s a hell yes, Officer.”

Carver shivered in delight, a devilish smile back on his lips. “The things I’m going to do to you when I get out of here.”

Mara’s smirked back, leaning forward so he could see down her cleavage. “We should start making a list.”

 —

Mara was engaged. Leandra wanted to be happy for her, but she found the green sickness of envy twisting her heart. Mara had a bright future, and a wonderful life to look forward to. Mara was going to have an amazing family while Leandra had lost just about everything. She remembered to count her blessings, telling herself she should be grateful that she still had Mara, and a wonderful man like Jaheem by her side, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be satisfied.

She felt like such a terrible person. She knew at best it would take Carver five years to be free, and those five years would be full of hardship and bitterness, but it felt like there was a light in Mara’s future, while Leandra was going to forever fumble in the dark. She tried her best not to let her envy show, but anytime Mara started looking up wedding details such as what dress she wanted, what kind of cake she should have, what the wedding venue should be, or asking Leandra’s opinion on that ‘list’ she and Carver were making, Leandra felt the jealousy pitting her heart, and it was getting harder and harder to fake her enthusiasm.

Leandra was too tired to cry anymore. She moped around, ate a lot of ice cream, and binge-watched so many shows, but eventually, sadness got boring. She knew she should technically be looking for a new job. It wasn’t like she had the income to just be sitting around acting like a lovesick depressed child, but she still couldn’t show her face anywhere in public. The news of her humiliation had finally reached Lowtown, too. Now every man was treating her like a piece of meat and she had become a social pariah. 

When Malcolm gave back the ribbon, she didn’t know what to think. And then she woke up one morning and realized she was furious at him. Malcolm gave up on her. He said he’d never do that. She thought he would chase her forever. She knew she told him to get out of her life, but she realized now she didn’t actually want him to listen to her. And she found that confusing, which made her even angrier.

She thought of giving her ribbon to Jaheem just to see if Malcolm would go crazy again, but she realized how terribly cruel that would be to Jaheem. Jaheem was so understanding, so caring, and patient. She tore her hair out in frustration. Why wasn’t she falling for him? He was dependable. Charismatic. Likable. Moral. Honest. Kind. Perfect. She wanted to give Jaheem the ribbon, but she knew while she cared about him, he didn’t have her heart. Malcolm had stolen it long ago and even now he refused to give it back.

She couldn’t sort out the mess of her feelings, so she decided to focus on another mess. So what if Brett denied her article? She still had the Council of Five’s letter. She still knew the truth. Leandra spent the better part of the morning drafting up a post on Headscribe, a social media site, informing the world of what she knew so far. It went something like this:

“My name is Leandra Amell, and I know right now I’m famous for all the wrong reasons, but I hope you’ll take time out of your day to listen to what I have to say.”

Underneath that was a photo of the Council of Five’s letter.

“A week ago I found out that my parents are in debt to an underground slaving network called the Council of Five. My legacy is a lie. My family’s wealth is an illusion. We are actually deeply in debt to this Council and, instead of accepting that the Maker withheld his blessings on our House, my family chose to sell Kirkwall’s citizens and commit great acts of sin.”

“I am deeply ashamed of this fact, but cannot hide from the truth. I know my family is not the only one in debt. I know that this runs deeper than I can possibly imagine. Please someone believe me and help me stop this.”

She posted it, hoping that it would get some traction, but Brett was right. While there were a few who were appalled and wanted to know more about the letter, they were quickly drowned by comments of men asking her to post more pictures of her tits, people debating about just how many lovers she had, and others claiming she was trying to distract everyone with petty lies. It was a nightmare. Eventually, she had to stop reading and arguing with the comments. She was only torturing herself.

Sometime late in the night, the doorbell rang. But when Mara answered the door, a dark car with tinted windows and blacked-out plates sped off down the street so fast they left skid marks. They’d left an orange envelope on the doorstep.

Mara opened the envelope and then went as white as a sheet. “Leandra?”

Leandra was watching TV on the couch, so she walked up to Mara to see what she was looking at. What she saw made her heart freeze in terror.

There were several pictures gathered inside, each image of a different person. There was an image of Mara sleeping peacefully in her bed, her covers tucked up in her polka-dot duvet. There was a similar picture of Harvel snoring with his mouth wide open and drooling, his sheets kicked off the bed, making a lump around him. And there was a third picture of Jaheem eating at a restaurant, blissfully unaware that someone was close enough to stab him. On each of their faces were red x’s over their eyes. The fourth card was a message with words that had been cut out and pasted from different magazines. “Who goes first? Your choice, Leandra.” Underneath that was the Circle of Five’s inverted triangle stamp.

Leandra couldn’t speak, her words caught in her throat. In her terror, she immediately rushed to her laptop to take down the post she had made, only to find that it had been already deleted.

—

Malcolm stormed into the Pulse, clearing the dancing crowd with just a murderous look. He kicked down the door to Cross’ office, barging in.

Cross jumped at the sight of Malcolm, nervousness in his eyes. Still, he leaned back in his chair and tried to look casual. “Elf. I thought you’d show up sooner or later.”

Malcolm growled. “You saw the photos, right?”

“Saved quite a few to my personal drive for later,” Cross winked one of his stone-grey eyes, even as a low rumble sounded in Malcolm’s throat. “But I take it from the footprint on the door, you want to know who leaked them?”

Malcolm raised a clenched fist, his hand bursting into blue flames. “You’re going to help me find them, and I’m going to end them. And if you don’t help me, I’ll figure out how many Carta thugs I can kill tonight, and skip town in the morning. How’s that sound?”

Cross laughed boisterously, placing a dark, meaty hand on his belly. “Guess you finally found your balls.” He leaned forward with a lopsided smirk. “You know as soon as I saw those photos, I thought you’d take it out on me. So I told my boys to go down and visit dear old Atronia Lovelace, the author of your little article, and ask her who she got those photos from.”

Cross did always have a habit of being two steps ahead of him. Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m listening. Who do I have to kill?”

Cross grinned wickedly. “Gamlen Amell. That’s your girl’s brother right?”

The flame died in Malcolm’s hand as he staggered back, hit by the weight of the news. “Gamlen?!”

Cross looked absolutely gleeful at the conflicted look on Malcolm’s face. “What a fucked up little family, right?”

Malcolm threw a spell at the ground, the flash of light singing the carpet. “Fuck!” What was he supposed to do now? He thought Leandra hated him now. If he went through with killing Gamlen, Malcolm might as well tie a noose around his neck.

Cross’ raucous laugh echoed through the office in time with the club’s thrumming beat.

Malcolm’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists, his eyes burning in hatred. He went to storm out of the room, but Cross’ voice stopped him.

“Wait, aren’t you forgetting something?” Cross placed two backpacks on his desk. “You’ve got work to do.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot more lyrium than usual. I don’t have anywhere to stash that right now. I’m still unloading the last shipment.”

Cross pushed the bags forward. “Figure it out, elf. I ain’t asking.”

Malcolm knew how easily he could kill the dwarf, and with everything happening he seriously considered it, but it wasn’t like he could disappoint Leandra anymore than he already had. He did have a small fortune by this point, but if he was escaping soon, more cash couldn’t hurt. So he didn’t argue, grabbed the bags off the desk, and slung them over his shoulder. “I’ll text you when I’ve unloaded this.”

Cross grinned, his gold teeth shining with greed. “That’s a good elf.”

Malcolm bristled, almost punching the dwarf, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort of dirtying his hand. He did however knock a bottle of whiskey off the table as he left, making a mess of the floor. 

Malcolm didn’t have enough space in his room for this lyrium, so he needed to figure out a plan fast. Since he had nothing but time now, he had spent most of it training with Chef. He’d also started working on a spell to take care of the problem of leaving contraband unguarded, and he only knew one person he could ask to help him test it.

Malcolm doubled back to the Circle, practically jogging the whole way.

Leaving Leandra was the hardest thing he had ever done. He knew it was creepy to show up at her house, but he couldn’t think of another way to return the ribbon and tell her the truth about what Cross had done. He thought he owed her honesty, even if it wasn’t going to win him any favors at this point.

But still, when he saw Leandra in Jaheem’s car, the only color he could see was red. Seeing them together hurt worse than being flogged, than being imprisoned, than being cursed. When she leaned in to kiss Jaheem, Malcolm had to look away. He knew he would snap otherwise.

But now her favor had been returned, and though he didn’t feel better, he did feel lighter, like he was numbing to the reality of being without her. He accepted that his life would be full of pain and probably very short. Especially now that Carver had been arrested.

He’d need to escape the Circle soon. Meredith had a vendetta against him. With her as Knight-Captain, she would make it her personal mission to  destroy him. And while he didn’t have anything to live for anymore, he wasn’t quite ready to lay down and die just yet.

He crept back into the Circle and made his way into the apprentice quarters to find Charlie’s room. The younger apprentices slept in bunks beside each other, but the older apprentices were allowed their own room if there was enough space for it. In this situation, it was a blessing that there were fewer mages in Kirkwall’s Circles than others.

Malcolm crept into Charlie’s room and found him snoring away on his hard metal bed, drool pooling on his pillow. Malcolm cast a shadow across Charlie’s face and shook his shoulder, covering his mouth so he couldn’t scream very loud.

Charlie’s eyes flew open darting wildly. A short yell was muffled against Malcolm’s hand, before recognition set in. Charlie tore Malcolm off of him. “Dude, what are you doing out of the dungeons? If they catch you-”

“They won’t catch me,” Malcolm interrupted. “Shut up and listen, alright. I need a favor.”

Charlie blinked, sleepiness still in his brown eyes. “What kind of favor?”

Malcolm pulled the backpacks off his back and placed them on Charlie’s bed. “My room’s already full of shit, so I need to find a place to stash this. Just for tonight.”

Charlie looked at the bags, uncomfortable and tense. “What’s in the bags?”

Malcolm gritted his teeth, remembering that he was still tied to Honesty. “You don’t want to know.”

Charlie grimaced. “C’mon, dude. You know I’ll have your back, but don’t you think I should know what I’m getting into?”

Malcolm’s shoulders slumped. And then with shaky hands, he closed his eyes and unzipped one of the backpacks and showed Charlie the lyrium.

Charlie’s mouth gaped. “You’re a dealer?”

Malcolm grimaced, feeling the judgment. “Don’t tell Taylor, okay? It’s just until I can escape the Circle.”

Charlie looked down at the lyrium uneasily, his eyes wide and fearful. “You’re putting a lot of trust in me. This is a big moment.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “So, can I count on you or not?”

Charlie gulped. “Okay, man. Whatever you need.”

Malcolm started to look around the room and saw Charlie’s hamper. “Laundry was just done, right?”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

Malcolm grinned. “Perfect.” He dumped out Charlie’s clothes, put the bags in, and placed Charlie’s dirty clothes back on top, and then he rummaged through Charlie’s dresser and threw more clothes on to better disguise it.

“Dude, I still need to wear those,” Charlie groaned.

Malcolm waved his hand, further cloaking the bags by covering them in a wrinkled illusion, so they looked like just more clothes for anyone rummaging inside. Then Malcolm snapped his head at Charlie. “Help me test something.”

Charlie raised a thick eyebrow, yawning. “Yeah, whatever, dude. Just tell me what to do.”

“For now just watch.” Malcolm closed his eyes, concentrating to see the barriers between the worlds. He was always aware that there was this liminal space between realities. He could feel it every time he phased through the waking world and into the Fade. He reached out and touched it, slicing a sliver of reality like a needle threading through a cloth. A white line followed the tip of his glowing finger. When he pulled it away, the line bubbled open with a pop and a soft heavy humming filled the room.

Suddenly there was a hole in reality and it felt like the world was leaking into it. There was a heaviness coming from the hole, a strange aura emanating from it. It was just a white blank space like someone had erased part of the scenery.

Charlie gaped, unable to speak as he watched in terror.

That’s when Taylor popped into Charlie’s room with excited energy. “Charlie! Charlie, wake up! I need to tell you something about Mal-” Taylor saw the hole in reality and her eyes popped open as her mouth dropped.

Malcolm hunched over. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Taylor pointed to the portal. “What the fuck is that?!”

Malcolm hushed her and hurried to shut the door behind her. He shrugged. “I don’t know, yet.”

Taylor clutched a black grimoire to her chest. “What do you mean, you don’t know! What kind of magic are you experimenting with now?!”

Malcolm gritted his teeth as he grabbed a pencil off Charlie’s desk. “Look, I needed a place to start storing shit I can’t exactly hide in my room, so I thought I could make a pocket dimension, but I don’t really know if it’s stable yet. Now that you’re here, you can help me.”

Taylor set down the grimoire on Charlie’s desk, her news completely forgotten. Her glasses gleamed as she studied the portal with wide excited vivid purple eyes. “Gladly. Tell me, how did you create this dimension? I wasn’t aware you’d read Hugo Everette’s multi-verse theory. Did you actually just prove him right?”

“I mean, Enchanter Jakoby assigned that as an essay ages ago, but I wasn’t trying to break into another dimension, rather the space between dimensions.”

Taylor's mouth gaped open, her pointed ears twitching. “How, though?”

Malcolm walked up to the portal and placed part of the pencil in. “You know that moment in the Fade when you transition from one area to the next? There’s a similar dimension between our world and others. Kind of like insulation in the walls of a house.”

Taylor placed a delicate finger on her chin. “Yes, there’s a certain spike in the energy where you can feel the dimensional shift. There’s a lot of energy in liminal spaces such as portals. Could be an untapped source of power.” Taylor watched in interest as the pencil disappeared into the hole in the air. 

Charlie just sat there gaping like a fish as his two friends continued to talk circles around him. 

Malcolm took his hand away and the pencil just floated there, half of it gone. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I thought that maybe I could keep stuff in between. Kind of like a portable suitcase.” He pulled out the pencil and it seemed just as normal as when he put it in.

Taylor snatched the pencil from him and balanced it in her fingers. “Fascinating, there’s a strange aura emanating from the matter. I’m not really sure what it is. Radiation?”

Malcolm shrugged again. “I have to do more testing to figure out how safe it is.”

Charlie was unable to say much at all. His knuckles whitened as he clutched the sheets of his bed, terrified.

Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of lyrium. “So I’m going to leave this in for twenty-four hours and, if the vial is still active after, I think I can safely put other things into it.”

Taylor gaped at the lyrium. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

Charlie’s eyes suddenly shifted uncomfortably to his hamper.

“This is leftover from when I still worked at the clinic,” Malcolm quickly lied. He cringed, knowing that he just hurt Honesty, but hopefully being honest with Charlie balanced things out. Malcolm started reaching for the portal.

“Wait, Malcolm, we should do some more testing-” Taylor widened her eyes, trying to stop Malcolm from putting his hand in but he already had.

The hair on Malcolm’s skin started to stand up. “Funny… It feels like… static electricity, I think. My hand is starting to go numb.”

Taylor yanked Malcolm’s hand out. “We don’t know how safe that is, you idiot!”

Malcolm looked at his empty hand. “Well, I guess now I just wait and see if I can take it out later.”

Taylor studied Malcolm’s hand carefully, trying to see if there was any damage. “You need to be more careful when testing new magic. You don’t know what’s going to happen with these things. I mean, you don’t even know what you made!”

Malcolm stared at the white hole in the air. “I think I found the Void.”

Taylor and Charlie’s mouths dropped. Taylor pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How can you possibly know that?”

“I don’t.” Malcolm gritted his teeth, but there was something familiar about the energy. “I just feel it.”

Taylor and Charlie stared at the gaping hole, the energy was not quite malevolent, just devoid of life and love and everything. It had this sinking feeling, like quicksand. Like if they left it open for too long, the hole would just eventually absorb everything.

Malcolm stepped up to the portal. “Well, the only way to know for sure is if I look inside.”

“Malcolm, no!” Both Charlie and Taylor shouted at once.

Malcolm rolled his shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Taylor’s a great healer and it’ll only be a second.”

Taylor pulled at Malcolm’s shoulder. “Malcolm, if your head explodes, there’s not going to be a thing I can do.”

Malcolm smirked. “The pencil didn’t explode.”

Taylor jerked him back. “We haven’t tested living matter.”

Malcolm shoved her off. “That’s what this test is for, right?”

Charlie rose from his bed, waving his hands up in warning. “Dude, monumentally bad idea.”

Taylor pulled at her coils. “Ugh, Malcolm, if you die, I’m not going to shed a tear, you hear that?!”

Malcolm cracked the tension out of his neck, only feeling slightly nervous. “Noted.”

Malcolm wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. But he had this burning curiosity that couldn’t be sated. There was just something strange about the energy. Was there actually a world on the other side? What if he could escape through that hole?

Before Taylor or Charlie could stop him, Malcolm stuck his head into the portal. Immediately his skin felt licked with static, his face going numb and losing warmth. His eyes stung, but he kept them open to try to comprehend what he was seeing. And he just couldn’t. There was nothing. No color. No light. No sound except the blood rushing in his ears. He immediately gasped, which was a mistake. There was no air. His lungs collapsed. And suddenly he felt woozy, and the white void faded into darkness as he lost consciousness.

He felt Leandra’s lips on his, her strawberry flavor coating his tongue, along with the taste of blood. “Sinag, wake up! Please wake up!”

There was blood in his mouth, pouring out of his nose and tearing from his eyes. He couldn’t breathe from the liquid in his lungs, but still, he could see Leandra’s lovely face twisted up as tears hit his chest. His heart hurt to see her in so much pain. She shouldn’t care about him. She should just forget him.

“You can’t die! You can’t! I need you!”

But he could feel himself fading despite trying to hold on with all his might. He tried to grab Leandra’s hand, to let her know everything was going to be okay, but his fingers were too weak to move. His eyelids were heavy and they fluttered closed, sinking into darkness as Leandra screamed in his ears.

And then a voice that could only be described as alien and heavenly spoke. “My poor children. I’ve heard your tears. There’s nothing I can do in this lifetime, but perhaps in the next you can find happiness.”

Then Malcolm saw lifetimes passing by his eyes in seconds. He saw his mother’s face as her eyes teared up, welcoming him into the world. Growing up. Watching her be beaten. Trying to escape his father so many times. That terrible night when he’d finally been taken to the Circle. All his failed escape attempts, desperately trying to find his mother again. Being shipped to Kirkwall. Meeting Charlie, Taylor, and Carver. Realizing he was a Somniari and that his only chance at living a long life was to escape the Circle. Getting into lyrium dealing to start saving up for his eventual escape. Killing thousands of demons and spirits. Meeting Leandra and experiencing the greatest happiness. Realizing how wrong he was about the Fade and how he corrupted everything. Losing Leandra and letting her go. Now here he was, trying to learn to live without her, and everything seemed pointless.

Did he want to die? Is that why he’d been acting so recklessly? He was just existing, passing time and waiting for the end. Perhaps he wanted to speed things along.

Suddenly he gasped awake, coughing as air finally filled his lungs. He opened his eyes to find he was still in Charlie’s room. That vision of Leandra blinked behind his eyelids. What a strange dream.

Charlie crushed Malcolm to his chest, sobbing heavily. “Dude, why the fuck did you do that?” There was snot running down his nose. “I thought we lost you.”

Taylor was busy writing notes in her notebook. “I told you he’d be okay.”

Charlie wiped some snot with his sleeve. “You cried, too, when he passed out!”

Taylor ripped the page out of her notebook. “And then I healed him, and realized the jackass was fine and just passed out from shock.” 

Malcolm rubbed his throbbing forehead. “How long was I out?”

“Probably close to an hour.” Taylor placed the page on Malcolm’s lap. “These were the calculations I made after creating my own Void. We tested with some live matter and honestly, Malcolm, you’re lucky passing out is all that happened.” Taylor opened up a Void portal and a dead mouse dropped out and plopped on the ground, twitching wildly for a few seconds before it finally stopped moving. “There is no oxygen in the Void, no matter at all for that reason. It actually seems like it will be excellent means for preservation, but it’s hostile to living life forms.”

Malcolm looked at Taylor’s notes. They told him how to make the Void bigger and more stable, Taylor’s best guess at what the Void was made up of, as well as notes on other things she’d tested and noticed in her observations about the mouse. It only took two seconds of being in the Void for the mouse to have a heart attack and die. Taylor was right. He was lucky to be alive.

"What did you see?" Taylor's eyes were eager and paying attention to Malcolm for the first time.

Malcolm blinked trying to remember. "Nothing. I saw nothing. Just a great big expanse of emptiness. It was definitely the Void." 

“Unbelievable, and you just stuck your head in.” Taylor shook her head, her cloudy hair swaying. "Malcolm, you are the biggest dumbass I have ever met." 

Charlie sniffed, wiping his wet face. “Seconded.” 

Malcolm noticed that Taylor and Charlie were sitting rather close, their hands on top of each other casually. Malcolm raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Taylor… since when did you start coming to Charlie’s room at night?”

Taylor’s purple eyes widened and she sputtered, unable to say anything coherent.

Charlie snapped his hand from Taylor’s, as if he’d been burnt, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “She just comes in and shares research she finds. It’s nothing weird.”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

Taylor retreated from Charlie, grabbing the grimoire off of Charlie’s desk. “Since Carver was arrested, I know Meredith is not going to find the real culprit. So, after I was forced to hand over all my research, I spent the last couple days recopying what I remembered, and then broke into the library and stole the Fell Grimoire back to finish decoding the Formless One’s spell.”

Malcolm’s jaw dropped. “You stole something? I think I actually respect you now.”

Taylor snorted. “I neither want nor ever needed your respect, Somniari.”

Then Malcolm’s jaw then fell to the floor. “Fuck. Y-you know-”  

Taylor smiled confidently. “I know you have the power to help Charlie through his Harrowing.”

Malcolm tensed up as Charlie looked at him in confusion. “He can?” Charlie blinked at Malcolm. 

Malcolm looked back at Charlie, determination in his eyes. “I can walk in dreams. I’ve been preparing for your Harrowing, waiting for the night that they take you. When they do, call for me.” Malcolm put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, dude. Just trust that I have your back.”

Charlie looked down at his hands, an unsteady smile on his lips. “Okay, dude. Sure.” 

Taylor’s full lips curved softly upwards in peace. She then pulled open the book to the Formless One’s entry and pointed to part of the writing. “I also know that Somniari blood is needed to both summon and bind the Forbidden Ones. And there’s more.” She brought the book back to face the boys, her glasses reflecting the runes of the surface. “The Fell Grimoire says that Emerius, the land Kirkwall was named when it was part of Tevinter, was built upon ancient sigils. This book claims that even the streets are designed so blood pools to the ancient seals underground the City, to further thin the Veil.”

Malcolm’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What for?”

Taylor’s voice quivered. “To bring the Forbidden Ones through.”

Charlie’s medium brown skin went completely pale. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

Taylor flipped through the end of the book. “I don’t know but they did try, and it was a disaster. Apparently, they spent ages trying to breed for a Somniari to be sacrificed but none survived to the awakening of their powers.” Taylor jabbed a finger at a couple of lines of text. “However, they found their Somniari in a slave and sacrificed him. The book is unclear on exactly what happened. There’s a time gap in the entries.” She flipped through the end of the book, showing how sparse the written records became. “When it picks up again, Emerius was completely destroyed. Apparently, almost everyone died. The Chantry had to come and pick up the pieces, and the newly established province was named Kirkwall. This research was deemed too dangerous and the Fell Grimoire was locked safely in the Circle’s vaults.”  

Malcolm blinked, his head still pounding. “Fuck, that’s… fuck.”

Charlie nodded, his face blank with horror. “I don’t understand half the things you two talk about, but you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Taylor looked at Malcolm. “You’re the Somniari. You’re still probably our best chance at finding this abomination before they Tranquilize all of us. Have you sensed anyone that feels off?”

Malcolm rubbed his chin, thinking back on strange encounters. “You know that one dude that always hangs out with Orsino feels creepy. Q-ball.”

Taylor nodded, her face grave. “I’ll start watching him and see if he’s acting suspicious.”

Malcolm gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he should really be dragging Taylor into this, but it seemed like Taylor had somehow gotten in the middle without even trying. “Alright, I should head back to the dungeons before they catch me out of my cell.”

No sooner than he had finished speaking, the emergency alarm started blaring loudly, the air vibrating with sound. Malcolm jumped to his feet. “Oh, shit, they must have found my cell empty.” Malcolm dug through Charlie’s hamper and grabbed the bags he hid. “There’s no time to do more testing. They’re going to be tearing apart rooms now.”

Taylor raised her eyebrow. “What is that?”

“No fucking time for your big nose, Taylor. We gotta get out of here.” He opened another Void, stuffing the bags inside.

He grabbed Taylor’s hand to drag her out of the room when she said, “Wait, wait, wait, I need to hide the grimoire.”

Before Malcolm could ask how, Taylor had opened another Void portal, stuffed the grimoire inside, and then popped it shut just as fast. Then she shot Charlie a warning glance. “Get back in bed.” Her head snapped to Malcolm as she grabbed his hand. “We gotta go.”

Malcolm and Taylor both turned invisible as they exited Charlie’s room, the alarm still blaring.

Malcolm could see the faint distorted outline of Taylor in the hall. “You going to be okay getting back to your dorm?”

“Of course. Just hurry before they catch you,” she snapped back and then started dashing away back up the stairs.

Malcolm ran in the opposite direction. He made his way back into the dungeons and paused, having found Templar-Recruit Trudeau’s broken body on a bloody pile on the floor, his face contorted in horror similar to Matthew's. There was a crowd of Templars guarding Malcolm’s empty cell.

“Do not rest until you find him. He’s killed a Templar on watch.” Templar-Luitenant Jiminez ordered the two other Templars away, and they split off in opposite directions, aiming their guns at the shadows.

Malcolm’s heart sunk. A Templar was killed while he’d been missing? Malcolm didn’t know how he was going to get out of this one.

He closed his eyes, falling asleep slightly so he could reach into the Fade. He connected to each of the Templar’s minds and muddied them, so they didn’t notice Malcolm walk past them and back into his cell,locking the door behind him. And then Malcolm hooked his Fade strings deep and twisted them, rewriting their minds so they didn’t remember he was missing. The Templars blinked blankly, unsure of why they were even standing outside of Malcolm’s cell in the first place.

That’s when Meredith came marching down the stairs of the dungeon, her shrill voice ringing the halls. “Where is the elf?! How could you lose him?!”

Luitenant Jiminez blinked at Meredith. “What? Who did we lose?”

“Hawke!” Meredith’s voice boomed against the stone.

The Templars all looked at each other in confusion. Luitenant Jiminez pointed at the cell. “But Hawke’s been in there the whole time.”

“Then why did you report him missing from count?”

The brown Templar was thoroughly confused. “I reported him missing?”

Malcolm gritted his teeth, considering rewriting Meredith’s memories too, but the more he messed with people’s minds the more chances someone would find out about his Somniari powers. And he couldn’t be sure, given Meredith’s paranoia, that she wouldn’t be able to see through his strings. Malcolm tried to think of a cover instead and like most of his plans, he quickly pulled down his pants.

“How could you all be so careless! Hawke is dangerous, cunning! You can’t underestimate him for a sec-” She opened the door to Malcolm’s cell to find him squatting over the hole that served as his toilet, taking a shit.

Malcolm groaned, playing up his annoyance. “You always have impeccable timing, Stannard.”

Meredith marched up to Malcolm, red-faced. “Where were you? How did you kill Trudeau?”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes, farting loudly. “I was here the whole time and I didn’t kill Trudeau.”

Meredith went red, her blue eyes popping with blood vessels. “That’s it, elf! This is enough suspicion for me to have you Tranquilized and believe me I’m going to enjoy doing it.”

That’s when all the Templar’s walkie-talkies went off at once. “Please note, apprentice Getran Becker was not found during tonight’s bed check. We believe we have a runaway on our hands.”

Malcolm’s heart sunk. Getran Becker was just a stupid sixteen-year-old elven kid who barely knew life. Meredith was going to use this chance to destroy him.

Meredith snapped up, a bloodthirsty smile on her lips. “I guess we have a hunt, boys.”

Malcolm wiped his ass, quickly pulling up his pants as he stood up. “Wait, Stannard. You know that’s just a kid who’s scared shitless. This is his first offense. Don’t throw the whole book at him.”

“My men are dying. This mage is a risk I cannot tolerate.” Meredith glared at him, her blue eyes cold and merciless. “If you’re not careful, I’ll make room for two brandings in my schedule tonight.”

Malcolm gulped, his eyes cast downwards. He knew he was hanging by a thread, and he wasn’t eager to cut the string.

Meredith’s heavy heels marched away, as she smirked gleefully. “We’re going to keep you in here until it breaks you, Hawke, and I’m going to enjoy seeing you broken.”

And then she slammed the door shut and locked him back inside.

[myers-meadow]

Soft RZ Michael: Shapes on his skin

Title: Shapes on his skin

Word count: 1353 w.

Content: very soft, very fluffy. Reader is gender neutral, i mention absolutely nothing about appearance. This oneshot follows Michael's perspective on a night out, and his favourite person has some troubles.

Warnings: blood, minor injury, mentions of murder.

Continued under the cut:

Michael’s new life after his escape from Smith’s Grove found a rhythm. Stalk and hunt and… come home. He thought of it often, how lucky he was to have a place to consider home. Someone to lick his wounds with. That night he hunted and killed. As he sat among the corpses of two unfortunate lovebirds, his mind was already wandering. He anticipated your welcome, how you would fuss over each minor injury, help him bathe and dress the cut on his wrist he just received. He looked at the wound, extending his arm in front of him, knife glittering in the light. He barely felt it. When one of the women fought him, armed with a tomato knife, he didn’t move away – instead he imagined you worrying over him as you always did. Touching him with such careful fingers, hissing when cleaning the cut as if it was your skin that was hurt.

Michael’s feet carried him to your back door. Now that his bloodlust was sated, a thrumming grew beneath the skin. The door was unlocked, as it often was, for him. He locked it behind him. With a smirk, he pushed up the sleeve of the wounded arm. You were washing up in the kitchen and turned around when you heard the door close. And that was the moment he looked forward to all day: seeing the smile spread over your face as you saw it was him, tea towel strung over your shoulder and plate in hand. The thrumming in his chest grew as he approached. Michael opened his arms as you stepped forward into him, plate put down on the table next to him. Enveloped you in his arms.

“Hey, you’re back,” you murmured. “Had a good time?”

He put the knife in the soapy water, then motioned upstairs. Shower. You nodded. “Do you need any help?”

And that broke his pleasant haze. Of course he didn’t need help, but he damned sure wanted it. He motioned to the stairs again, then to you.

“Want me to join? Go ahead, I’ll come up when I’ve finished.”

Where was the worry, where were the gentle words and the bandages? He was covered in blood for god’s sake, and it could as well have been partly his! He stood still and waited for you to finish. It was only two more plates, before you freed yourself from the apron and tea towel. You pressed a hand to your neck and sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling. Then turned around, planning to go up the stairs, instead bumped into Michael.

“Oh, god, I thought you went up already. Sorry,” you voice was soft and you avoided his eyes. Only then did you spot the red gash on his wrist. “Michael, you’re hurt! Why didn’t you say anything? I’ll get the alcohol, go shower.”

It wasn’t long before you joined him in the bathroom. Michael was slow on purpose, still wearing his coveralls. You washed your hands by the sink, before turning to Michael.

“You’re still dressed,” you said, frowning. He didn’t move a muscle. You reached out to him and unbuttoned his coveralls. Almost there, almost his favourite part, and yes, you pushed the stiff fabric down his shoulders, unintentionally touching his hands as you pulled it from his wrists. “Ah, sorry, the wound. Does it hurt a lot?”

He nodded just slightly, holding it out for you to clean. You gathered the small cotton ball with alcohol and dabbed it on the length of the cut.

“What did they even cut you with? It looks so messy,” you frowned. “Not that deep, thank heavens. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

No answer. You inspected his torso, lightly touching him with cold fingertips, turning him around to see his back. Some splatters of dried blood that had seeped through the fabric mixed with the freckle constellations on his shoulders. Thankfully, no other injuries.

You undressed yourself, as Michael finished pushing down the coveralls and stood in front of you nude. He reached over to put the shower on.

“I need to talk to you,” you spoke, loud enough over the sound of the rushing water. Michael refused to step in the shower until you did. Sharing the warm water was always a struggle, but he’d not stand to lose an opportunity like this. And so he pulled you into his chest, to keep you warm in the chilly bathroom, if the water was not enough. You rubbed circles over his back, to loosen the first bits of blood and dirt. There was this specific muscle in his upper arm that you often rested your head on, and you relaxed, slowly exhaled. Then tensed again.

“Today two police officers came to ask me some questions,” Michael stiffened against you. The thought of them didn’t usually bother him, but now that they could do something to you, unacceptable. “Dr. Loomis was with them. They said that a neighbour noticed someone fitting your description had been seen around and wanted to ask some questions.”

You took the shower gel and a washcloth. The scent grounded him. Slowly, you rubbed circles on his chest and shoulders, turning the soap a diluted pink from the blood that washed off. Michael relished in the sensations; there was warmth and the soap was soft, and it was you who paid such close attention to each area of his body. Normally you would smile, and he could strangle the police officers for taking that smile. He poked you in the shoulder to continue talking.

“Loomis asked me all sorts of questions, and then explained who you were and why they’re looking for you. I didn’t say anything, of course. I was very friendly, and I tried my best to be convincing… But I think it’s best you lay low for a while,” your frown deepened. He took the washcloth from you and soaped you up. He preferred using his hands, so he squeezed soap from the cloth and spread it around with his hand. The curve of the shoulder, down the back, back up via the stomach. The brush over your nipples wasn’t an accident.

Michael pressed his lips together as he noticed you weren’t paying attention to him and his sensual movements.

“I really think Loomis knows. He said all these things, that you weren’t a friend, that I was just ‘convenient’ and so on… He must have suspected something. Perhaps a neighbour looked inside at the wrong time, I just- perhaps you need to find another hiding place. I know I can’t ask you to stop killing, so that is the only option…”

He roughly shook his head, and you looked up at him, for the first time that night really seeing him. His hand rested atop your head, pressing you back into his massive form. He’d keep you safe, he thought.

Clean and dried, he took you to your bedroom. Even tighter than normal, he wrapped you into him, a leg in between yours, fingers tangled together underneath the duvet. He looked around the dark room. It was a shared room more than anything, although his personal touch was lacking. He liked it that way, he liked living in spaces that were so clearly inhabited by you. That night he didn’t let go of you once. He even followed you to the bathroom when you got up to refill your glass of water. He thought of his ex-psychiatrist too, and what he would do if he saw him again. Then you rubbed your thumb on his hand and he breathed a little easier. The decision was surprisingly easy. Barely even a sacrifice.

So, in the morning, with a bleak sun streaming through the window, he asked you to buy thin curtains to prevent the neighbours from looking in.

“Michael, but it’s safer if you-“ He cut you off by grabbing your wrist. He shook his head. “But then…” You protested, starting to connect the dots. He nodded, smiling underneath his mask. A similar grin broke out on your face, and the thrumming in his chest blossomed.

[ozarkthedog]

DAYDREAMING | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

summary:  Don’t bring sex toys to work. 

warnings:  18+ only. Ben Wa Balls. A Smutty imagine. Flirting. Steve being innocent and cute as a button.

word count: 1,136

author’s note:  This came to me this morning and it was too silly to not write. 

Read Part 2: Learning Curve | Read Part 3: Balls Deep

📖 Master List

This work has Adult Content. If you click “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content.

The heavy pull of the spheres that were currently nestled in your channel had your belly tightening with every step. As much as the Ben Wa Balls helped strengthen your pelvic floor, they also supplied you with pleasurable endorphins which made your time at work rather stimulating.

You padded down the hall making your way to the boardroom to sit in on a meeting with The Avengers. Being an assistant to Maria Hill, you were given special privileges none of your co-workers had. You spied their jealous glances as you breezed past them with a smile and pushed your way into the room.

Caught up in rifling through the bundle of paperwork in your arms, you careened into a massive wall of muscle. With a surprised squeak you jolted backwards sending the bundle of papers flying.

Just as you were about to land on your ass, Steve’s hands gathered around your waist halting your fall. “Are you alright?” Steve’s arms caged you against his large frame protectively and your hands molded against his sculpted chest as you gathered your startled surroundings.

His pecs jumped beneath your fingertips, the tight blue shirt from his session at the gym smelled of sweat and masculinity and accentuated the thick chords of muscle. You swallowed down a moan that was itching to be heard.

The sensation of safety and power was overwhelming as he kept you in his embrace. Your core fluttered around the small orbs, making them smooth over your walls and rub against sensitive spots.

“Oh! I’m Sorry, Captain.” you squeaked. Your cheeks burned hotter with every passing second as you felt yourself getting wet. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He smiled at you with those dazzling caerulean eyes, watching curiously as you fought with your inner turmoil. “My lucky day then.” Steve flirted before looking away hurriedly as Nick Fury came bustling through the doors.

You parted quickly, hoping Fury wouldn’t ask any questions as Steve and you gathered your papers while the Avengers slowly settled into the room and took their seats.

The meeting droned on as you diligently took notes and tried not to call attention to yourself. The slick from your mishap with Steve added a whole new level of pleasure. The weight of the balls pressed against that spongy spot that always made you see stars. It was driving you mad, causing you to shift every so often to quell the driving urge to touch yourself.

It didn’t help that you caught Steve staring at you from across the room all throughout the meeting. If he only knew you’d fantasized about him taking you over the boardroom table every time there was a meeting called.  

You pictured it so clearly having directed the little fantasy a thousand times over…

Steve presses your chest onto the cool surface before pushing your skirt over your hips. His fingers glide over your soaked panty covered mound and mouths at your plump flesh. “You’ve got the sweetest smelling cunt.” He’d confess before tearing the flimsy material to pieces and diving into your sodden heat.

He’d work wonders on your slit, dragging his tongue up and down before fucking into your center desperate to taste your cum on his lips.

“Grind that pretty pussy onto my face. I wanna smell you for the rest of the day.”

Sharp smacks to your ass would have you whimpering as you scrape your nails over the lacquered conference table.

His firm body would plant itself over yours as he grinds his girth against your swollen petals. Your bones aching under the weight of the super soldier but when he slowly pushed his cock into your heat, the pain is long forgotten.

“Such a big cock for such a tiny little pussy.” He’d grunt as he stretched your walls to their limit. He’d flex his length stilling deep inside, earning himself a sobbing gasp from your lips.

His teeth would graze your shoulder as he stuffs your core full of him. Bouncing your hips against his as he fucks into you with a steady pace. The table would slide across the floor with every forceful thrust propelling you to hit your peak unexpectedly.

“Gonna be so full of my cum, you’ll be dripping for the next few days.” He’d growl into your neck before biting the tender flesh heatedly. “Wanna see my cum gush from your cun-”

Chairs scrape the floor as the meeting comes to an end sending you into overdrive to catch up. You fussed with the paperwork all the while trying to not bring attention to the fact that you’d been fantasizing about being at the mercy of the Captain.

As you stood to leave, one of the balls easily slid from your drenched heat and into the crotch of your panties. Fear had you slamming your thighs together tightly, praying you could make it to the bathroom before anyone could notice your distress.

You waited until everyone left before slowly and carefully making your way to the exit. The other ball was still nestled inside securely now that you were doing Kegels because your life did in fact depend on them at this moment. You held your breath hoping no one would stop you for a chat as you made your way down the hall.

You curse yourself for daydreaming as you turned the corner too quickly, running into the same massive expanse of muscle.

Steve extended his hand to catch your falling frame but it was too late. Once again, your paperwork went flying but this time you landed on your ass with a pained groan. In the kerfuffle, you didn’t feel the ball dislodge from your panties and roll out into the open.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Steve chuckles bending down to help you on your feet. His smile warms your heart and amongst other places.

“It’s just my lucky day then.” You send him a wink before squatting to gather the spilled papers into a rough pile.  You don’t know where the sudden confidence came from other than perhaps the endorphins from…

You froze, eyes going wide as saucers when you noticed the lone Ben Wa ball between Steve’s feet.

“Hey, a Marble!” Steve exclaims excitedly before picking up the shiny metal orb. He stares at it with longing, obviously remembering his childhood. “Oh, this is a great Shooter! Buck and I used to play Marbles all the time.”

He was grinning ear to ear and you just couldn’t be the one to put an end to his happiness even though this was so unsanitary and embarrassing.

“I’ve got to show this to Buck! I’ll bring this right back!” he shouts as he quickly takes off running down the hall intent on finding his best friend, leaving you in a state of shock.

“Oh, fuck.”

[mydogisveryadorbs]

bad day | jj maybank x reader

summary: jj has a bad day and he just wants to be with you

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of abuse, sad jj, fluffy ending (ofc)

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

3.5k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

To the outside world, JJ Maybank has a perfect life. He has the best group of friends, he parties all the time, he has all the freedom in the world, and most importantly, he has you.

To the outside world, it is practically impossible for JJ Maybank to have a bad day. How can you have a bad day when you have a perfect life?

The only person in the world that knew that bad days are actually a common occurrence in JJ’s life, was you.

When the two of you had first started dating over a year ago, you too had believed that JJ’s life was perfect. His outgoing personality and carefree nature were what initially attracted him to you and he fought hard to maintain that persona. It wasn't until three months into your relationship that you realized that the blonde boy had it so much harder than you could've possibly imagined.

Truth be told, JJ didn't open up to you on purpose. In fact, if he had it his way, you would have never had to see him break down the way that he did.

You didn't know what to do when you first found your boyfriend laying on the bathroom floor in the Chateau, body shaking with sobs. At first, you thought he had been in another rough quarrel with Rafe and his friends. But when he looked up at you, tear stains on his cheeks and the saddest eyes you had ever seen, you knew this wasn't just some run-in with a couple of kooks.

It didn't take long for you to get over your original state of shock and comfort the boy. Your younger sister had bad anxiety and experienced panic attacks often, and still, you found yourself on the less prepared side when it came to soothing the blonde you adored so much. It was hard for you to understand that the tough, wild, teenager that you had fallen in love with was simply a cover for the fragile boy inside.

You can still vividly remember sitting on the bathroom floor for hours with JJ. Despite your unfamiliarity with your boyfriend’s suffering, there was not one second that you had even remotely questioned your love for him. If anything, seeing him in such a vulnerable state made your appreciation for him grow.

JJ himself, on the other hand, did not know how to accept the comfort you had given him. He was so used to being alone every time he was feeling down. So used to hiding all of his emotions from the people around him. 

The two of you went through many difficult nights of him pushing you away and trying to block you out. But just as fast as he was building up his wall, you were tearing it down.

JJ doesn't know the exact moment when he allowed himself to succumb to your solace. Still to this day, it's hard for him to believe that someone as beautiful and compassionate as you can possibly love someone like him.

The more he let you in, the harder it was to be without you and now, whenever he had a run-in with his father or was unsure of himself, his first impulse was to call you.

You never hesitated to comfort the boy, knowing that he would do the same for you. And as much as you tried to stay strong for JJ, sometimes everything got to be a little bit too much. 

JJ will never forget the day you were holding him after a fight with his father and you couldn't hold it in anymore. You let out heart-wrenching sobs into his hair. The sound alone brought tears to his own eyes and the two of you held each other all night, whispering sweet nothing to one another.

JJ is having a bad day.

He should have known when he woke up this morning and you weren't in his arms. He glanced over, immediately recognizing your small handwriting on a blue sticky note which was stuck to your pillow. The note explained that your parents had asked you to come home, but that you would come back to the chateau to be with him that night.

have a great day and don't miss me too much lovie!

His heart fluttered at your sweet words. How did he get so god damn lucky? Popping open his phone case, JJ folds your note and sticks it inside, just in case he needs to read it again later.

Despite the loving feeling he got in his chest while reading your note, his day quickly went downhill.

When JJ opened the cabinets above the sink to make himself a bowl of cereal, they were empty. He brushed it off and went to work with an empty stomach.

At the hotel, a group of kids bumped into him while he was clearing a table and he dropped a wine glass on the floor, shattering it. His boss chewed him out for 30 minutes before putting him on dish duty for the rest of his shift.

After work, JJ went to the local market and used his tip money from the day to buy a sandwich and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers for you. He knew you would make a big fuss about him spending his money on you, but he loved to see the cute look of surprise on your face whenever he got you something like this. It made whatever he had gotten for you worth every penny.

On his way back to the Chateau, JJ was stopped by none other than Rafe, Topper, and Kelse on their bikes. He tried his best to ignore them, knowing that you hated when he got into fights, but as soon as Rafe mentioned a snide comment about your ass, JJ immediately threw the first punch. He didn't realize until after the fact that one of them had stomped on the flowers he bought for you.

As much as he hated it, the blonde boy knew he needed to go home to get a fresh pair of clothes. He could always ask you to get a pair from the drawer of his clothes you had in your room, but that would require telling you what had happened and he didn't want to be a bother while you were with your family.

He knew he was screwed when he arrived at his “house” and saw his father's truck parked in the dirt outside. JJ hoped that he would be able to slip by without being noticed, but his horrible luck from the day continued.

His father was in the stage of his drinking where he was drunk enough to be angry with his son, but not drunk enough for JJ to outrun him.

JJ’s cheek throbbed on his walk back to the Chateau and he was sure that he was sporting a fresh black eye. His ribs were sore as hell and the only thing that kept him moving was the thought of seeing you.

When he arrived at John B’s house he instantly took note of your missing car. He prayed that you had simply walked and that he would see you laying on the couch when he entered.

There was someone sitting on the couch, but it was not the person JJ was looking for.

“Dude,” John B said when he noticed JJ’s figure standing in the doorway. “What happened to your face?”

“Where's (Y/N),” the blonde asked, ignoring John’s question.

“She called and said she wasn't sure if she would make it,” Kie said, drawing JJ’s attention to where she was standing. “Her friend Carlee’s boyfriend cheated on her, so she went to comfort her. She said she tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail,” the curly-haired girl explained.

Glancing down at his phone, JJ noticed it was dead. His shoulders slumped. All he wanted was to see his girl after a shit day, was that too much to ask? He knew first hand your dedication to your loved ones, and he knew it wasn't fair of him to want all of your comfort and love for himself, but he couldn't help it.

You were too nice, he decided. But that's why he loved you so much, wasn't it?

“So what happened to your face,” John B asked again, taking a sip of his beer.

JJ glowered at his best friend. “What do you care,” he snapped. He knew he shouldn't take his frustrations out on John B, but you were his coping method and he didn't know what to do without that.

John B raised his hands in defense, standing up to grab another beer. “Jeez, dude,” he said, “Just asking.”

“Well maybe you should mind your own goddamn business,” JJ yelled.

The brunette boy halted his actions and turned to face JJ. “What the fuck, man?” he asked, voice rising. “You really want to do this.”

“Yeah, I do.” He definitely didn't. “You know,” JJ snapped, “Maybe if you spent time with your actual friends instead of your fucking kook girlfriend, you would know what was going on in my life.”

John B scoffed “That's rich coming from the guy who spends every waking moment trying to impress a girl who's way out of his league,” he yells.

JJ knows he's right. You were too good for him. But you chose him anyway. Why?

“Fuck you,” JJ sneers, shoving past his best friend and walking out the back doors. He needed space.

You were getting ready to leave your friend's house when Kiara called you. 

Carlee was a sweet girl, and her douche of a boyfriend definitely didn't deserve her so you told her exactly that. But this wasn't the first time something like that had happened between them and based on previous occurrences, you figured Carlee would go a week before she decided to get back together with him.

It was times like these where you really thanked your lucky stars that you had found a boy like JJ. The two of you had your moments like any healthy couple, but you knew in your heart that he would never do anything to purposely hurt you.

You smiled when you saw Kie’s contact. “Hey girl,” you answer in a country accent, giggling at the end.

“(Y/N),” she said and your smile dropped, immediately understanding that there was something wrong. “You need to come to the Chateau right now.”

Your feet skid to a stop and you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Is JJ okay?” you ask her in a rushed tone.

Kie’s voice is shaky when she speaks. “He came over today with a black eye and a bruised cheek and when John B asked about it JJ kind of freaked out,” she explains. “They are screaming at each other right now. (Y/N), you gotta come quick,” you could hear yelling in the background.

“I'm on my way,” you assure her, hanging up. You run to your car, heart twisting in worry. It wasn't like your boyfriend to act like this so you knew something had to have happened.

You drove to the Chateau faster than you ever have before, getting there in under five minutes. The second your car pulled up to the house. You were flying out of your car and running inside the screen door.

“He's outback,” John B says upon seeing you enter.

Your eyes snap to him and they soften at the sight of his distraught face. “You alright, JB?” you ask.

He nods slowly. “I've never seen him like that, (Y/N),” John B tells you, his voice laced with worry. “You gotta help him.”

You nod your head, walking outside to find your boyfriend. You don't have to go far, spotting his hunched over the figure on the porch steps.

Slowly, you make your way towards the boy, and despite the fact that it's the middle of summer he is shivering violently.

You place a hand on his shoulder and he immediately flinches away from your touch. Your heart breaks at his reaction. “JJ, love, it's me,” you tell him softly, crouching down next to his body.

Hearing your voice, JJ lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red-rimmed and filled with tears and the skin around the right one is hidden by blue and purple. Your eyes scan his face and you take note of the bruise on his cheekbone and his split lip. Your hands itch to remove his shirt, knowing that there are more hidden underneath.

The sound of JJ’s choked sob brings your eyes instantly back to his. 

“Oh, J,” you say sorrowfully, opening your arms for him. “C’mere.”

The blonde boy instantly falls into your embrace and you cradle his body tightly. He sobs into your shoulder and you feel a wet patch grow in your shirt. “I needed you, I need you,” he cries into your shoulder.

Softly shushing him, you run your fingers through his hair. “I'm here, J, I'm here,” you tell him, your heart aching for the boy in your arms. You don't know exactly how long you sit there, his hands clutching the back of your shirt tightly.

Slowly, his sobs die down before he is only sniffling every few seconds.

You pull back slightly, tenderly cupping his face in your hands. “Can we go inside?” you ask, gently brushing back the blonde curl that had fallen over his forehead.

JJ nods slightly and you stand up on the porch, helping him do the same. You bite your lip when you notice his subtle limp on the way inside. You notice how quiet the Chateau is and silently thank John B and Kiara for giving JJ the space he needs.

 Leading him into the bathroom, you help JJ sit on the counter and you quickly grab the first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.

Opening it, you grab a cotton swab and an alcohol wipe to clean his lip and cheek, wordlessly realizing how many times you've had to do this.

“Why are you here,” the blonde boy asks abruptly. If you weren't paying attention you would have missed his small voice.

“What'd you mean, J?” you ask, continuing your work.

JJ sighs. “Why are you here?” he asks again, slightly louder, but still quieter than you are used too.

“Well, I was leaving Carlee’s house and Kie called me and told me that you-” JJ cuts you off, pulling away from your grasp slightly.

“No, (Y/N),” his tone is harsh but you can hear the brokenness laced behind it. “Why are you here? With me instead of with your friends? Or better yet another guy that can buy you nice things and doesn't have emotional trauma? A guy who's not broken?” he says the word with such hatred that it shakes you to your core.

“JJ,” you gasp, hurt flashing across your features. How could he think that? JJ instantly wants to take it back, but he wants even more to know your answer. “You are not broken, you hear me?” you say, honesty clear in your voice. “Your flaws are what make you, you. I don't need fancy gifts or expensive jewelry to make me love you! I love every single thing about you, JJ Maybank. From your head to your toes. I love you just the way that you are and there is nothing you can do to take that away from me. Ever.” Your voice is strong and serious. You leave no room for argument as you continue to patch up his face.

JJ doesn't speak again letting the words sink in, scared that he will break down for the second time that night. His eyes fall to the floor and he lets you tend to his cuts.

When you are satisfied with your work on his face, you tap the boy's arm lightly and his eyes snap to yours. “Lift your shirt so I can see,” you ask him, not making eye contact. When he doesn't move, your eyes lock with his. “Please, J,” you beg, in a quiet voice, “I need to see.”

The blonde knows he will never be able to say no to you, especially when you ask him that way, so he gingerly lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and wincing when he moves the wrong way.

JJ expects you to pity him. To tell him you're sorry the way everyone does. But you simply stare at his injuries, eyes welling with tears. And this, JJ decides, makes him feel infinitely worse.

Your hand reaches out to trace the large, purple-black bruises. JJ shivers at the touch of your soft hands on his skin.

He grabs your hand suddenly, pulling it up to his lips. “I'm sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I'm sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, using the hand not in JJ’s to run through his hair. “None of that, okay? I'm here because I want to be. And I will always be. No matter how many times you try to push me away.”

You feel hot tears on your hand and you quickly slide between his legs, pulling him back into your chest, careful of the bruises on his ribs.

“I love you,” JJ cries into the crook of your neck. “I love you more than anything else in this fucked up world.”

“Shh,” you say softly. “I know, lovie, I know. I love you too. Endlessly.”

JJ pulls back at your words, just enough so that he can look into your eyes.

You used to think your favorite color was purple. When you were ten you painted your entire room purple and even bought purple bedding. But the moment you looked into JJ’s cerulean eyes, it instantly became your new favorite color.

JJ looks from your eyes to your lips before leaning forward to kiss you.

The kiss was soft and passionate explaining every emotion the two of you were feeling. No matter how many times the two of you kissed, your heart raced like it was the very first time. 

Pulling away for air, JJ rests his forehead on yours. 

“What happened today, J?” you ask in a quiet voice. 

JJ bites his lip, leaning back slightly. His first instinct is to tell you that nothing happened and that he's okay, but JJ knows you wouldn't believe him for a second. So he recalls his day, telling you every detail. Just knowing that you know, makes JJ’s heart feel a little less heavy. “A-and I bought you these flowers from the florist on main, y-y'know the ones you love, and I couldn't even bring them to you,” he says sadly.

You caress his cheek. “Love, I don't care about the flowers, all that matters is that you're okay,” you assure him, honesty evident in his voice. “And as for your father, you are staying here or at my house from now on and the next time I see that son of a bi-”

JJ cuts you off, grabbing your hands. The last thing he ever wants is his father hurting you. “(Y/N), no,” he says, the vulnerability in his voice evident. “You need to promise me that you won't confront him. I don't want you getting hurt.”

You sigh, knowing how important this is to the blonde boy. “Only if you promise not to go back there unless I'm with you,” you compromise with him.

He nods, kissing your forehead gently. “Can we please go to bed,” JJ asks and you can hear the sleepiness in his voice. Nodding, you help JJ off the counter and the two of you walk to the spare room in the chateau. The two of you climb into the bed. You are still in your clothes from the day, but that is the last thing on your mind.

JJ moves his arms to wrap around your middle but you gently push his shoulder back. “Turn around, J,” you tell him quietly. You know that JJ secretly loves to be the little spoon and you secretly love to be the big spoon. He would never openly ask you to spoon him, but you can read his body language like a book.

He rolls to his other side and you wrap an arm around his bare middle, careful not to hit any of his bruises. You nuzzle your nose into the back of his tanned shoulder, breathing in his scent deeply.

“I love you (Y/N)” your boyfriend whispers, his hand reaching to hold your hand that is tracing his chest. “Thank you for being here.”

You press a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. “Always, JJ,” you tell him earnestly. “I love you more than anything.”

The blonde boy falls asleep in your embrace, feeling truly safe for the first time that day.

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masterlist :)

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

abshwvshsh imagine Paladin Danse with Baby Fever.

Got alittle drabble?

*I got like an idea where Paladin Danse and Alex(fallout oc) go on a mission and end up finding an orphan baby and as Alex is taking care of it, Paladin Danse is like 😍😍🤩🤩. So yea lol.*

(I totally deviated from the prompt but I was hoping this would be satisfactory as well? 😅 if not, I'm more than happy to write for the original prompt, just send me another ask)

Perhaps this feeling was simply a product of the desertion he felt after exile.

You were so very kind to him. You were there for him when he had hit the lowest point fathomable, when his life as he knew it was ripped away from him and left him with this deep melancholic emptiness. It took time, of course, but like always- you were patient with him, truly there for him.

If asked, Danse wouldn't know exactly how you did it, but piece after piece you managed to put back together what he once felt was broken beyond repair. Maybe it was the way you valiantly fought to reassure his life's value, maybe it was the long days you spent at his side so he may not feel lonesome, but most likely it was the love you professed that let him know that if someone as wonderful as you could have such profound feelings for something like him...then yes, maybe he was truly worth more than he believed.

Nonetheless, there were still some times that Danse would sit in your cozy little home, a far off look in his eyes as he thought deeply about something you just couldn't quite put your finger on. Once, you would've been able to just look at him and know what troubled him- a trait he didn't care for in the slightest- but lately...he wasn't quite as easy to read.

His identity would forever be something he struggled with no matter how much progress the two of you made, this you knew and understood, but whatever was on his mind as of recent didn't seem to have the same effect. For instance, these moments you'd catch him in..he wouldn't look nearly as tense, which may be a fruitless observation to note- but hey, every little detail meant something with Danse. In addition to this, the proud ex-paladin would usually seek your comfort if his mind raced to such dark places and now he would only sit in silence.

Instead you were left puzzled, watching the man you love sit and continue on with his mental strife- only moving every so often to fidget with the glistening metallic band on his left ring finger.

You never would've guessed that the reason he was so deep in though stemmed from the child sitting on your kitchen counter, eating one of Danse's prized snack cakes with Shaun. The child happened to be one of the settler's kids, a little girl around six years of age- so far too young to help out in the farm, and too young to leave unattended..so naturally, with you being the bleeding heart you are, you agreed to help out the girl's parents and watch her every so often while they worked. Besides, after your marriage to Danse..and Shaun coming home, there wasn't very much adventuring going on anymore. It wasn't a big deal though, Shaun rather liked having company (even if he preferred hanging out with Duncan more) and having a younger child around didn't bother you in the slightest.

Unbeknownst to you, watching the way you cared for the two children really struck a nerve within Danse. It was almost enchanting to watch you fuss after them, leading his mind to wander off to the most fantastical places.

"Okay, Shaun, do you think you can handle taking her back home? Her ma and pa should be finished working out in the field by now. I'll send Dogmeat with you." You spoke, receiving a rather exasperated expression from your little boy as he gracelessly slid off the counter, feet landing with a soft *thud*.

He proceeded to hold a hand out to his much shorter, younger friend to help her down. "No problem mom..." He all but grumbled as he began to lead her out the side door. A blur of brown and black fur at your feet let you know your faithful companion was at attention and ready to escort the two children- a happy bark followed by the closing of the door eased your mind shortly thereafter.

Had it been anywhere else, you probably wouldn't have let Shaun leave without you or Danse..but given that the girl's parents lived two doors down- you didn't really worry. However, you DID worry about the ex-paladin.

With a casual sigh, you sauntered your way into the living room- only a little surprised when you realized your entrance hadn't done much to catch his attention. Regardless, you pushed on and decided to sit right beside him- smiling just the slightest bit whenever his gaze finally shifted away from his wedding band and to you instead.

"Alright." You began, making no qualms about scotching closer over to him until he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "What's eating at you?" You simply prodded, head resting on his chest.

Danse visibly stiffened, as though under the impression that his silence went unnoticed. He couldn't have been more wrong- he knew better than to think anything would get passed you. Even if it had, the thrumming of his synthetic heart against your ear surely gave him away.

Before he dignified your question with a response, he shifted around so that he could properly face you- still holding you yet able to move his head in such a way that he might be able to see the way you'd react completely to what his next words were going to be. And…maybe to get your attention away from the heavy beating in his chest.

That's really when you noticed it. The fleeting look in his eyes, the unsteadiness of his breath, the slight pink shade decorating his nose and cheeks..Danse was nervous.

"This..I apologize but this going to seem completely out of the blue.." He finally spoke, sighing as he closed his eyes just for a brief moment- trying to collect himself so that his nerves might not get the best of him. This is a matter that he had been wrestling with for some time now, the last thing he wanted was to get so anxious that he couldn't speak.

Alas, calming down seemed to only get harder for him. True, it had only been a few seconds since he spoke but the way you looked at him, so concerned and so..sweet, made time slow down and his damned heart incomprehensibly race.

"Whatever it is Danse, I've got you.." Great- now that concern he picked up on was lacing your voice as well.

Was it truly necessary for him to complicate things to such extremes? It's not like the topic was completely alien to either one of you..and damnit, you're the one person he felt he could speak his mind freely to..so why wasn't this any easier?

Then came the words you never, ever, ever, would've expected to hear from his mouth.

With his eyes soft, and his voice even more so, Danse spoke. "I know we have Shaun, and don't get me wrong- I truly do love the boy as a son, my son...but have you ever considered what having a child of our own would be like?" It was in that instant that Danse realized how abrupt his words may have came out, that tender gaze of his slowly retreating to look anywhere but you. "Forgive me, it's um..it's selfish of me to anticipate you being ready for such a thing, especially considering what we have both went through this past year.."

Unable to focus on much else but the drumming noise inside your head from the profound beat of your heart, your trembling hands grabbed at his and squeezed.

"You know..you have a bad habit of cutting me off before I can tell you what I think, sir." You laughed, trying to distract from the tears threatening to well up. Sure, it may have been a slight over reaction but..with Danse wanting a family..it was one hell of a step in a good direction. "What happened in the past..well, it should stay there. The two of us have something most people never get, we have the ability to start anew and leave our troubles behind us, Danse. So...god, I don't think much else would make me happier than having a baby with you.."

Once the ex-Paladin got over the initial shock of your words, he all but mauled you in a breath-stealing kiss- his arms wrapping tightly around you to the point of making the promise of breath a distant memory. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but enthusiastically kiss the man back...at least until-

"MOM! Gross!!" Shaun shrieked, having opened the door at quite possibly the least opportune time. Great.

Danse pulled back with a shameful blush on his face, averting his eyes from the young boy who was now fake gagging as he walked off to his room.

“Guess we oughta see if Mac is up for letting Shaun stay over with Duncan..hm? You know, just to get a head start..” to this, the ex-paladin’s adorable blush deepened tenfold.

Fantastic....or rather...outstanding.

[writings-of-bored-gal]

Protection - Part 10

Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Part 10/?

Summary: Jaime and his wife make it to Sunspear, but what will be waiting there for them when they arrive?

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! so….it’s been a while. I never wanted to leave this fanfic unfinished and I promise I will eventually get to finishing it, I just needed to know where it was I wanted to go with it and in all honesty, the way the show ended kind of put me off thinking about that. I am going to give this another go though, and Protection will be finished one way or another (else it might haunt me for the rest of my days). I have also started writing more original content which can now be found on Dreame and the link is in my Masterlist! Thank you all for the continued support and I hope you’re all staying safe. Thanks for reading- Abby x

Protection Tags: @mikariell95, @evyiione, @sleepylunarwolf, @wnygirl2012, @purpose4fan-fiction, @mmmcchan, @lxdyred, @duvetsandpillows, @d34d-0n-th3-1ns1d3, @bshelley322

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee! 

_______________

Jaime wrapped the child in a blanket, clutching it tightly to shield it from the sand that whipped around them in the wind. It had cried, it had screeched as its mother fell to the ground, her arms unable to take the weight of the tiny being. 

She was now slumped over the front of Bronn’s horse, Bronn’s arms showing veins where the strain of holding her up was getting to him. It hadn’t been pretty, but she had done all she could and she had the child before fainting in exhaustion and dehydration. Jaime tried not to let his fear show, tried not to disturb the sleeping infant in his arms, but he couldn’t help but let it eat away inside of him. They had to reach the Martells before it was too late for her. Bronn had managed to bring a maester, who lingered behind them on his own horse. He seemed hesitant to help them until Jaime had explained that she was not of Lannister blood, but the daughter of Ned Stark. The argument had persuaded the master, but Jaime was not sure if it would sway the Martells to his cause. They would be happy to let her die even if it was just to spite him. 

Whilst the journey to the Martell’s residence was a short one, it felt longer than any of their time at sea. Jaime looked down at the child in his arms, a young boy. Cersei would be disgusted. A new Lannister heir. He didn’t really care what Cersei thought. The boy looked strong and healthy, despite the heat he did not seem bothered, his chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm of sleep. Jaime looked over to his wife, her eyes flitting open for a moment before closing once again. At least she was still alive. 

The edges of Sunspear became visible above the dunes. The tips of its golden spires were visible above the large walls that surrounded the building. There were guards at every entrance, all sporting the Martell crest of the spear bursting through the sun. Jaime thought back to Oberyn, the way he fought the Mountain with a spear and his courage. He had nothing but respect for the Martells, but he could not say they would feel the same way about him. 

The maester rode up to meet the level of Jaime and Bronn. He stepped down from his horse and went to check on Jaime’s dear wife, still slumped over Bronn’s horse and mumbling something Jaime could not hear. He attempted to give her some water, but she laughed, batting the vessel away in delirium. Jaime was no maester, but even he could see she was delirious. He felt panic rise inside of his, the child sensing it and fussing in his blankets. He watched as the maester stepped ahead to the two guards, murmuring something to them as they nodded, one turning and making his way into the walls of Sunspear as the maester returned to Jaime and Bronn. 

“They have asked that she enter Sunspear alone with the child,” the maester told Jaime. 

“You expect me to give my wife up to my family’s enemies so freely? No!” Jaime replied, his voice rising in anger. He would not leave her. She would not die alone. “Put me in chains for all I care, but I am following her in there-“

“Jaime,” Bronn’s voice, level and calm felt like a bucket over water, washing away his anger and bringing him back to the present, “you’re going to be no good to anyone in chains, mate. Let her go in.” 

Jaime wanted to take out his sword. He wanted to fight. That’s what he knew, what he had always known. That was where his strengths truly lay, but he also knew they would not serve him here. He was not here to fight the Martells. Whatever his intentions before, he was now there to beg for their help. 

“Take her,” he murmured, “and him…” Bronn’s eyebrows shot skyward. He had not known the child was a boy, and he understood the implications. His wife was taken on the horse whilst the maester took away his son, leaving Jaime and Bronn sitting uselessly with their arses in the sand as they leaned up agains the walls in the shade, waiting for word from the palace. 

After hours, the sun remained high in the sky, but the guards had changed. Bronn and Jaime had mainly been sitting in silence, Jaime staring into the distance, Bronn drawing crude shapes into the sand in some attempt to entertain himself until he could not hold onto his thoughts any longer. 

“So, a boy,” he said to Jaime, clicking his tongue in thought. Jaime scowled, but it did not deter him. “What’s going to happen when Cersei gets a word of this then?” 

Jaime sighed. “I’m trying not to think too hard about it. I’m more concerned whether they’re alive in there.” 

Bronn shrugged, “they’ll let you in eventually, just need to assess the threat first.” 

“There’s one of me and a thousand of them, how much of a threat can I be?” 

“Aye,” Bronn smirked, “but you’re the Kingslayer.”

___________________

She awoke as the sun was setting, her mouth dry and everything sore. A maester was stood aside from her, whispering to a tall, slender woman with a mouth that seemed it would permanently be turned downwards in a disapproving manner. Her hands fluttered to her belly, still swollen but empty now. She remembered the desert, she remembered the searing pain, but then she had no clue. Had her child survived?

She wanted to cry, but her eyes couldn’t sacrifice losing the little moisture they had. She shut her eyes. She had not seen Jaime, but she hoped his was not far from her. He had promised her protection, hadn’t he? But protection did not mean safety, not anymore. She’d seen her father protect her mother as best as he could, but neither of them had ever been safe, not when there were so many threats. 

“Lady Stark?” It was the tall woman. Her voice should have been comforting. She had always liked the lilt of the Dornish accent, but her name had come out as more of bark. All she could do in response was nod, her throat too dry to croak out some sort of response. She had not been a Stark for a long time, but the name was like a childhood blanket, and she clung to it for comfort. 

The woman came closer, holding up a flask so that she could take a drink, speaking to the girl who called herself Stark whilst she drank. 

“We did not think you would manage to wake up so quickly,” she told her, “you were on the edge of madness when my maester bought you to the doors of the palace.”

“The child?” She managed to choke.

“The child is safe and well. I’ve had someone nurse him, although I imagine he will need his mother soon.” She smiled kindly, but it did not reach her eyes. “Your husband is going to be a problem for us, though. He waits for now outside the walls but his patience will not last forever.” She examined the woman lying down, as if assessing if she was a threat despite the fact she could hardly move. “I think perhaps we could allow him inside with the necessary precautions, but you will stay here with us whilst he can take residency in a cell, I think.” 

Part of her wanted to protest, but she knew it would be useless. The best she could do for now was try and figure out what the Martells wanted from them. It was her turn to protect him. 

[amyscascadingtabs]

give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

 Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

 That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

  As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

  The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

  This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

 She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

 That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

 “Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

 Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

 “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

 He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

 “I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

 ~