and even though the things he did are unforgivable he can still make things right

blue orchids

hanahaki & soulmate au (reposted)

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: angst and a sprinkle of fluff
word count: 18.748
warnings: implied smut
disclaimer: I do not own the hanahaki disease concept.

I am immensely thankful for the talented people who have created art / edits for this story: x, x, x, x, x, x ♡ also, make sure to read moonlight (drabble from jimin’s pov) and home after rain (short sequel) after reading this story. enjoy!

You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

The day is fresh and clear in your memory: early December, the winds stronger than ever as they threatened to pierce through the windows of your room, hints of snowflake dancing in the air as the first snowfall augured an even sharper winter. There was a smile on your face that didn’t match the unrelenting coldness of the month, and even though the night was falling and the air felt icy on the tips of your fingers, there was only warmth in your chest as you went through the pictures of your phone.

Pictures of you and Jimin drinking hot chocolate, of clumsy iceskating, of funny faces that made you laugh out loud in the quietness of your bedroom. The feeling sparking in your chest could be considered somewhat dangerous— after all, you were just a girl that didn’t have any marks on her skin, a girl whose fate was yet to be decided. Something as enigmatic as love could be a treacherous thing, too risky for someone that couldn’t decide their destiny on their own.

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Honestly, it vexes me when I consistently see people saying that they don’t want to see redemption arcs.

And to clarify because I don’t want to beat around the bush, I do mean Kylo Ren in particular—though this could be generalized for other characters, too, I guess?

Kylo falls under the role of an antagonist. He has done horrible things: he is the Jedi Killer, he ordered the slaughter of those people at the start of the film, tortured Poe for information, fetched information from Rey’s mind and killed his own father. These are actions that firmly establish him as Not Good. He wouldn’t be an antagonist if he didn’t do bad things, would he?

But context is very important, and the finer emotional nuances in scenes such as Han’s death need to be evaluated less simplistically. In multiple source materials, it is canonically established that Kylo Ren is not pure evil. He struggles with the actions he believes he must take. Adam Driver has described Kylo Ren as someone who (while not verbatim, the intent of words is the same) “feels what he’s doing is right, and feels justified in his actions because of that.” If you want the full bit of what he said, just for clarity, here:

Well, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t think of him that way in playing him, that he is doing anything villainous. It’s more if he thinks what he is doing is right, and being justified by it. And then trying to tell the story of why – making it a person as much as possible.

“Wait!” You might say. “He thinks the fucked up shit he’s doing is right? How is that at all supposed to make me want this guy to have a redemption arc?”

This is where we get into the finer details and lore, my friend. While the matter of Ben Solo’s grooming by Snoke is an entire other issue the fandom is up in arms about, the fact that he was targeted in the womb is undeniable. There are multiple written scenes in the Aftermath novel that lead to this conclusion:

The dark, now lit with stars. One by one, like eyes opening. Comforting at first, then sinister as she worries. Who is out there, who is watching us? Hands reach for her, hands of shadow, lifting her up, reaching for her throat, her wrists, her stomach -

Inside, the child kicks. She feels her baby turning inside, right-side, up and down, struggling to find his bearings, trying so hard to find his way free of her. It’s not time, she thinks. Just a little longer.

He is less a human shaped thing and more a pulsing, living band of light. Light that sometimes dims, that sometimes is thrust with a vein of darkness. She tells herself that it’s normal - Luke said to her, Leia, we all have that. He explained that the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.

The baby turns inside her again, troubled by something she cannot feel and cannot yet understand.

As well as this moment from the novelization of TFA:

Leia bit her lower lip, refusing to concede. “No. It was Snoke.

Han drew back slightly. “Snoke?”

She nodded. “He knew our child would be strong with the Force. That he was born with equal potential for good or evil.” “You knew this from the beginning? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed. “Many reasons. I was hoping that I was wrong, that it wasn’t true. I hoped I could sway him, turn him away from the dark side, without having to involve you.” A small smile appeared.  

“You had—you have—wonderful qualities, Han, but patience and understanding were never among them. I was afraid that your reactions would only drive him farther to the dark side. I thought I could shield him from Snoke’s influence and you from what was happening.” Her voice dropped. “It’s clear now that I was wrong. Whether your involvement would have made a difference, we’ll never know.”

He had trouble believing what he was hearing. “So Snoke was watching our son.”

Always,” she told him. “From the shadows, in the beginning, even before I realized what was happening, he was manipulating everything, pulling our son toward the dark side.

And then, of course, are these additions from JJ:

It’s more than just having a ‘bad seed’ as a kid. Snoke had targeted this kid and knew that this kid was going to be incredibly powerful in The Force and wanted him as an ally.

So this mother and father had a target as a son, someone who’s watching their boy, and these parents aren’t there enough to guide him.

Kylo Ren is a villain, but he’s also a victim and this plays—no matter what people might want to think—a very integral role in his character progression. Snoke has been an influence on Ben Solo’s life for almost as long as he’s existed. There has likely never been a Ben Solo that existed without that outside influence. According to the timeline we’ve been able to establish about Kylo, he defected when he was in his 20s—meaning there is a part of him that always resisted the seduction of the dark side, but eventually gave in. 

But why did he give in? What was the extent of this manipulation on Snoke’s behalf that could cause a golden child from some of our favorite heroes to go so wrong? 

The thing is, we can’t be sure. We only know that Ben was kept from the truth about his lineage and when that knowledge came forward, he felt betrayed. Worse, it is likely that the combination of Snoke’s influence and the respective actions/inactions of his parents (no matter how well meaning) all served to push him off that edge. 

My two cents? Kylo Ren has the illusion that what he’s doing is right because what he used to believe in—his parents, the Jedi, the light—were proven to be ‘wrong’ when he found out the truth. This all-knowing force that had guided him all his life had been right instead. 

“The supreme leader is wise.”

I believe that in the end, the rhetoric of the dark side and Snoke became the only thing left to Ben Solo that made sense anymore. So he did what Snoke told him was right, because he’d been right about everything else. He follows his dark path almost religiously because it’s all that’s left to him now.  

When Han talks to Kylo Ren on  that bridge, he isn’t talking to the Jedi Killer—he is talking to his son. He is talking to his boy who has not heard his own name in god knows how long (because Ben Solo is dead) and he is getting through to him. When Han Solo asks Kylo Ren to come back home, Kylo Ren does not laugh in his face. He doesn’t proclaim his father a fool. He doesn’t praise the dark side.

He says, with tears in his eyes, “It’s too late.”

In my opinion, it’s practically an admittance that this is not what he wanted. He does not want to be on that bridge, preparing to do what he’s going to do. I think he wants to go back home, but—going back to what I said earlier about the dark being all he has left—he believes that there’s nothing left, though Han is offering him family again. Because if his father is right, then what has he done? What has he done all this time? If Han is right, he has made so many unforgivable mistakes, and who could live with that? If what he’s done is not right, then what does that make him? 

Anyone would have a hard time swallowing that. It has to be right, because if it’s wrong, the alternative is unthinkable. 

JJ has another memorable quotation that I can (and will) reference back to in order to support this:

People have asked me if I think that Kylo Ren was just playing with him the whole time, if he meant to kill him from the beginning. And the truth is, I think Kylo Ren, in this moment, is actually being convinced to walk away from this. Snoke is, as Han says, using him, and I think that somewhere Ben knows this. But I think that he can’t accept it. Deep down, he has gone too far.

Despite anything Kylo Ren has said, Ben Solo is still very much alive. The action of killing Han Solo was an act from Snoke meant to quiet that voice completely. It’s not weakness in his apprentice that Snoke fears: it’s his apprentice thinking for himself and having Ben Solo’s power used against him. He played the long game. Every investment he made into the birth of Kylo Ren was to ensure he had this quivering mass of rage and anguish fighting on his behalf. He does not want Kylo Ren to be at peace with the pull inside of him the way Kylo Ren thinks killing his father will achieve.

He wants Kylo Ren to suffer. He wants to Kylo Ren to sabotage himself until there truly is no way back.

At the end of the day, it’s important for people to realize this: redemption arcs are not about what a character deserves. It never will be about deserving. Han Solo deserves justice? Yes. Poe and Rey deserve justice? Yes. Finn deserves justice? Yes. Does Kylo Ren deserve to be punished for what he’s done? Of course. Redemption arcs aren’t about justice either, however. It isn’t about cleansing an antagonist of their sins or punishing them. 

It’s the antagonist realizing the horror of what they’ve done and deciding they need to do something to make things right. Whether that be a sacrifice or a lifetime’s worth of service in the name of a greater good, it doesn’t matter. It’s about repenting. 

This is about Kylo Ren realizing the light wasn’t a lie, that he doesn’t have to tear himself apart anymore. That he’s drawn to it for a reason. This is about reparations to a galaxy, an abuse victim realizing he is being abused. Gaining his independence for the first time in his life. Giving his father’s soul peace, and his mother one more piece of her shattered family back after everything she has lost.

That is a redemption arc. 


Originally posted by dazzlingkai


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A = Aftercare 

Kai’s definitely going to be a guy that’s going to take care of you well. He’s got dogs that are practically his kids, his niece, Taeoh, on Yummy Yummy he said he wanted to know how to cook so he can help his wife. He’s going to take care of you, and happily do it too. He’s one that’s got a warm rag on stand by, lotions and things are waiting in the bedside.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

We all know the golden part on Jongin is his hips, c’mon. He relishes in how him just dancing can get you all hot and bothered, watching the sharp thrusts and fluid rolls. I’m not even going to try and act like he’s not a basic lil horny boy. He likes your boobs. No use hiding it. He’s almost kid-ish with his touching fixation he has with you, he likes squeezing the soft bits of you, that includes ya titties. 

C = Cum 

Kai’s still pretty young, I don’t think he’s quite mastered the art of not making a fucking mess with his male tears. He’s pretty messy, and very vocal when he cums. He’s a pretty loud moaner with you in general, but when he finishes, he goes up a good 4-6 notches in volume. 

D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs) 

While he’s really touchy feely with you, he’s got somewhat of a voyeur kink, that he hasn’t revealed to you yet. Kai has such open play with you, that he likes toying with the idea of not being allowed to touch you, and just having to watch you play all by yourself while he’s squirming in his seat. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Between him and Sehun borrowing Noonas’ phones and returning them with the history deleted, and he was the only one of him and Sehun who understood the dick joke the lady on Yummy Yummy said, I’m pretty damn sure his ass knows about dicks and sex and the whole shabang. He knows too much about moving those damn hips too. If he hasn’t had sex, then I wanna know who taught him that shit. He’s easily taught though, so if he doesn’t know what’s going down, he knows enough from watching things to know what to do, he’s just gotta apply his knowledge to you.

F = Favorite position

Knowing he needs proper room to work the magic that is Kai’s hips, doggy style is usually what he prefers. You laid out before him, exposed to his eyes, and unknowing of when he’ll strike. From behind, he’s able to get his grab on, let his hands wander around your back, easily reach around and touch your chest, grab a handful of your ass, and be able to unleash the beast that is his thrusts? it’s the best of all worlds in his eyes.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Kai’s a typically lighthearted and goofy guy in most situations, I don’t see any way that doesn’t spill over into his sex life. Although sometimes he likes to play that there’s a difference between Jongin(ur soft lil bby bf) and Kai(ready to fuck you into next week), in general, the atmosphere isn’t tense or serious, it’s all fun with him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they)
He whips those abs out so much, my Nana makes so many jokes about his lil nip nops it kills me. Not much hair in sight, and he’s very clean and put together but he does have stubble a lot so I don’t think he shaves every day. I think he grooms down there, but it’s not very frequently, maybe a few times a month. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

[Back to Aftercare] He’s very loving, and caring, and he’d be the most romantic you can imagine. He’s the classic kind of romance, maybe a few candles but mostly he’s very vocal during sex, cooing about how perfect you are, how well you take him, how much he loves you. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation)
[Back to using the Noona’s phone….] Kai almost always has his hand on his dick, let’s be honest. I think it’s hilarious he’s playing a character that addicted to video games and porn, that’s practically him at this point. He’s all the time in the bathroom, or always in the shower. He’s not fooling anyone, but we’ll just let him think he’s being sneaky. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
I lowkey think Kai has(i think this is what its called) exhibition kink? Or is it voyeur? Idk, whatever, he likes being watched with you. He doesn’t necessarily want a threesome, but it’s been toyed with in convo, that you might try out at some point with having a third person just watch.
He watched porn with sehun dont play me i know whats going on

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Kai will pretty much nail you anywhere, he’s not a stickler for location. Seeing as Chan’s the lockpick master, a locked door doesn’t even matter so with the amount of times Chan has gotten into the bathroom while Kai’s in there…Kai just doesn’t care anymore. He favors the bathroom though, he likes plopping some nice bathbombs in the tub and spending some relaxing time with you before he takes you for a ride. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Grindings kind of his thing, all you have to do is trick him into back hugging you and roll your hips back into his crotch, and he’s sweeping you off to find a closet or bathroom or practice room to bend you over. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he does have a thing for being watched, under no circumstances will he agree to a threesome, no matter who the third person is. Kai’s pretty protective and possessive, which is why he likes being watched, it sends a pretty clear message that you’re his and they can watch all they want but they can’t touch you like he can, can’t make you moan like he can, can’t make you cum like he can. It’s a show of dominance to him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

I don’t trust his tongue tbh Kai’s more of a fan of being in you, rather than your mouth or his on you. But of course foreplay is very important, and he doesn’t dislike going down on you, he’s actually really good at it, he’s just so impatient he’d rather get to the main event. He doesn’t turn down a bj, but again, he’d rather be in between your legs, rather than in your mouth. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

If his damn thrusts are any indication to how he is in the sack, Kai’s got a pretty fast pace. His thrusts are pretty unforgiving, and teeters on the line of being rough, but he’s good at reading your body if he’s being a little too rough.`

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are actually really frequent in your relationship, Kai’s a fan of being able to pull you away from the group or something for a fast pounding, more so because he likes seeing your face all flushed and hair a mess when you two return to the group and have to pretend like nothing happened even though everyone knows…they know..

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Kai’s really playful in the bedroom, if you or him want to try something, there’s almost a 100% chance you’ll test it out, at least once. Positions, toys, locations, kinks, etc, he’s game to try anything with you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Kai’s still young, and he’s got a lot of young boy energy still. Sex with him lasts a significant time, and dick entering stuff lasts a good 5-10 mins, but one round is all he can handle honestly.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He’s got a few basics, just to bring in just for a little extra fun every once in a while. Some silk ropes, a blindfold, some interesting vibrating panties. They’re not used very frequent, but when they come out, he does enjoy them a lot.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kai is a bit of a little shit, he’s really into teasing you a lot. He likes watching you twitch, and he gets off on you begging, so teasing is an all time favorite of his. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s insanely loud, to the point you’ve joked and toyed with the idea of getting him a freaking ball gag. He’s a moaner, but hell that might as well be bumped up and call him a screamer, he’s so loud. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Lord knows you’ve been walked in on more times than you can count, being walked in by the EXO members that you’re close to is already bad, but the dressing room backstage during an SM event when Kai’s squeezing a quick one on and you’re caught with your pants around your ankles and a dick in you by Taemin is top 5 worse moments of your life. Kai found it hilarious though…idiot boy…

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I have a fascination with Kai’s crotch. Is that weird? Same with Taemin and Hansol, I really like the guys that know how to tuck right and it’s practically completely flat in the front. 

but boi :)))))

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

How may horny puppy references can I make? Bcuz that’s what he is. His sex drive is just a smidgen above average, just high enough that it’s a ‘did you seriously pop another boner? didnt we just do this smh’ kind of thing. He’s pretty much ready to go at any moment, and he’s turn on at the drop of a hat, so I’ll pray for your souls.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I imagine Kai as a puppy tbh. After he’s had his little work out, he needs a nap straight away. So Kai falls asleep fairly quickly after you two do the do, even if he’s only got a few more minutes to spare, he’s done closed his eyes and he’s snoring. Night Night Nini. 

Better Books. [Beast! Prince Adam Oneshot].

I’M SUCH TRASH. I’m pairing this with another one of my imagines: Where Adam Tells you his name.

Originally posted by braedens

Title: Better Books.
Pairing: Implied! Beast!Prince Adam x Reader.
Words: 1,522.
Rating: K.

After scanning the shelves for what seemed like hours, you had finally found the book you were looking for. Laughing softly in victory, you figured that Adam must have hidden it from you to assure that you didn’t read it again. You could hear his voice inside of your mind, ‘There are better things to read than that.’

You held the book in your hands close to your chest. Rubbing the spine gently, you felt somewhat conscious of the blue eyes lingering on you longingly from across the spacious room. Whether out of nerves or slight curiosity, you let one of your feet dangle from the ladder in the library, swinging around slightly so you could look back at Adam with a tender gaze. He was perched in a chair, sitting in what little sunlight was leaking into the castle from the overcast sky outside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of warm sunlight that soaked into your skin and made you feel a little more happy and optimistic. It was a dreary sort of sunlight that would bounce off you and create somewhat negative vibes. Fortunately though, you strode around with your own positivity the darkness that seemed to mindlessly drape around the entire residency.

By the time you looked back at him, he tried his best to seem completely invested in the book instead of the back of your head, but you knew better. It was something new between the two of you and has become more and more frequent. The stolen glances, as if it were forbidden to actually look at one another and allow yourself to be caught doing so. You had only stumbled upon the castle a month ago, and between then and now, he has actually warmed up to you surprisingly well. After all, it had only been a week or so since he felt comfortable telling you his name so you didn’t have to stumble around what to call him exactly.

Stepping off the ladder with a small ‘thud’ as you jumped onto the marble floor, you studied the book in your hand and made your way to the seat across from him. Adam noticed of course, watching you from his peripherals as you sauntered your way towards him and sat down.

Adam cleared his throat, setting his book down in his lap. “What’ve you got there?” He inquired, using his head to gesture to the gently worn out book in your hands. If he moved just right in his spot, the dim sunlight coming in through the large windows shined off his horns, somewhat reminding you of how water shimmered in the light.

You seemed a bit shameful when you answered quietly, “Romeo And Juliet.”

“Uhck.” He murmured softly, scrunching his face in mind disgust, “Have you not read that enough? It’s such a tragic story. The romance, the pining, the unforgiving end. That book will be in three pieces by the time you’re done with it. There’s so many books here, why choose the same one over and over?” Adam’s curiosity was legitimate. He never saw the wonder in romance like you seemed to. To him, they all seemed the same and never seemed to have the absolutely ideal ending.

You laughed quietly, “It may be. At least it’s a book that you don’t seem to care about. I’m sure I could set it on fire and you’d probably be very happy that I did.” Shrugging your shoulders, you rubbed the spine once again and answered simply, “It’s a bittersweet tale. I like that it’s not perfect. That’s what makes it enjoyable. Anyway, why does it matter what I read? It’s not like you’re the one reading it.”

He nodded his head in agreement. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one reading it, but he still argued, a bit more innocent and playful this time, “Perhaps, I can show you another story that’s just as good.”

“I dare you to show me one that I’ll love more than this one.” You held the book up and sat it down on the table to your right. “You’ve read everything in here, so I’m sure you can find one.”

Adam stood up, completely towering over you before holding a paw out for you to take. You smiled at him, accepting the help and let him lift you from your seat. “I accept your challenge. I’ve got just the book.” The smile he gave you was the gentlest thing you had encountered and left your heart swimming in an unknown feeling. You wanted nothing more than to see that smile for the rest of your days. Adam hesitated, but eventually let go of your warm hand before striding to the left. You followed closely, biting down on your bottom lip.

What was the feeling in your chest? It was as if someone had lit a thousand candles and let them burn inside of you. You denied any previous thoughts of adoration for Adam, telling yourself that you couldn’t possibly feel anything more than forced friendship for someone who was keeping you here. But at this point, the sensation in your heart was making you question your own words. There was no doubt some sort of attraction between the two of you. The hidden gazes, the gentle strokes of your hand against his arm while you pass him books.

If he let you go, who’s to say you wouldn’t want to willingly stay here with him? You would stay. Even if he didn’t ask, you would stay. But, why?

“Here.” His voice boomed you back to reality. Swallowing softly, you looked up at him with reddened cheeks before letting your gaze drop to the book in his hand. Taking a shaky breath in, you took it from his hands and studied it carefully. It seemed a bit more worn than ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the spine exceedingly bent at the moment, stirring you to ask, “Have you read this a lot?”

“More than most books here. It’s one of the books my mother used to read to me when I was a child.” Adam admitted softly, letting his icy eyes admire your reaction to the book. “It’s the only romance I can actually bear to finish.” He said without thinking. “You see uh— I never finish them, usually. Romances, at least. I leave them off in the ideal place, almost….”

“Afraid of ruining it with the actual ending.” You finished his sentence for him. Adam seemed astonished that you had actually understood. Pressing it to your chest, you sighed and whispered to him, “You’re taking an opportunity away from yourself though. If you never read the ending, you’re not reading it in the way it was intended to be read. Some…” You clutched the book a bit harder, something he noticed as your knuckles were turning while, “Some stories have a happy ending that are so out of sight that you need to keep reading on. You can’t let one bad ending be the reason why you can’t enjoy other endings.”

There was no fighting your words because as Adam let them sink into his mind, he came to realize that you were completely right. He opened his mouth, ready to discourse but couldn’t find anything to say. He couldn’t. He was in such a position that you words were undoubtedly true. Before the curse, his ending was a bad one, though he prolonged it for as long as possible. It took a sharp turn and seemed even worse for a while before you came waltzing into his life, giving the slightest shimmer that perhaps even he could have a happy ending in a story otherwise full of despair, darkness and hate.

“Let me know what you think.” Adam said quietly, looking at the book in your hands. “I hope… you like it.”

Reaching up, you pressed your hand to the right side of his face and completely captivated his attention. The affection was sudden and seemed to leave Adam completely defenseless as you smiled sweetly at him. It was a tender stroke and reminded him of the last time that he had actually been touched so affectionately. It had been years. If it weren’t for the dramatic height difference, he could look at you eye to eye and if given permission, he would have kissed you. Just to see a response, to see that if getting his hopes up wasn’t just a waste now that there were only a few more petals left on the enchanted rose.

Adam was certain he could kiss you regardless, catching you off guard. The nagging voice inside of his head worried that you didn’t want it though, and so he refrained as best he could and tilted his head towards your hand.

You let your hand linger on him for much longer than needed, eventually bringing it from the side of his face to his wide shoulder before walking back to your spot in the small amount of sunlight. It was his time to follow you back. Sitting down, you stared up at him and gave a warm smile, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

EYYYYY. Thanks for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! :D 

The Son(g) of Ice and Fire

I saw someone commenting on a George RR Martin interview where he talks about why he named the series Ice and Fire. This person seemed to assume that George’s answer meant that Jon and Daenerys represent Ice and Fire together, respectively, which is something I have always very vocally disagreed with, and will continue to do until Martin himself tells me I’m wrong (that means Dan and David and their fanfic freakshow and magazine covers are irrelevant to me). 

Originally posted by to-eternal-darkness

I read/listened to this interview a long, long time ago, and it never gave me the impression that my idea of what the Song of Ice and Fire means, is wrong… 
Here’s why:


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Queen’s Evidence

↠ baekhyun x f!reader; 16.3k; how far will you go to show baekhyun that you did actually care about him?
↠ mafia au; y/n is a little crazy; involves the theme of hanahaki; contains mentions of death, adultery and other themes

“I realised why I kissed you before,” he answers. He swallows thickly and leans his head back. “You’re not like other people that I meet. You fought back against me. You offered a new perspective. I found myself wanting to spend more and more time with you but originally I thought it was because I needed something different but I realised it’s because I needed you.”

Originally posted by xehun

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Hatred and Grief - Clark Kent x Reader

Summary : Clark loses the thing he loves the most in the World…And the worst thing ? It is his fault. 

I was in the mood for something angsty today. Yeah yeah yeah I didn’t follow the schedule I put up not long ago, but I really wanted to write this story. I was in the mood to write something kinda sad (or not). Hope you will like it, as usual, feedbacks are very welcome :-) : 

My masterlist blog :


The second he sees your body hit that wall violently, and hears the terrible crack it makes…He knows. 

He didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t him…it wasn’t him ! 

This was a nightmare. 

Just a bad dream. 

He was going to wake up in your arms, nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. He was going to wake up in your arms, and tighten his grip around you. You were going to reassure him after this stupid nightmare…No. 

No you weren’t. You would never reassure him again.  

He knows he committed the irreparable. And that’s what brings him back. 

Of course, only you would be able to take him out of this weird daze he had been for a while. Only you would be able to snap him out of it. He thinks he remembers you yelling : “Clark, this isn’t you ! Come back to us baby, come back to m…”, but you were never going to be able to finish this sentence. 

He doesn’t remember much, but what comes back to his mind, is being captured by Lex Luthor and him…doing something to his brain. 

And then falling in a state of semi-consciousness, where he just couldn’t control his movements, and didn’t even care about it. 

He doesn’t really remember much of his actions, as if he just woke up from a dream that refused to be remembered, but when he regains his senses, and, horrified, looks around him…half of Metropolis is destroyed, giving him that much hints about what happened.

He knows this carnage is his fault. Though he wasn’t master of his movements, the guilt that washes over him is endless. And when he fully realizes what he has just done, what brought him back…It’s more than guilt. It’s agony. 

It’s his arm that hit you with all his might as you were approaching him, and that send you crashing into that concrete wall. With just a small swipe, as if you were nothing, though you were everything to him, his arm went own its own accord to shove you out of his way, with so much force that you flew across the street. His arm. His. 

It’s his arm that killed you…

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The Boss’s Cold Heart | Chapter 3

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

Pairing: Jimin x reader
Genre: angst, smut
Word count: 6k
Content: dom!jimin, oral, orgasm denial

Description: You spent a night at Jimin’s house but your happiness soon found an end as things got worse regarding Mr. Johnson.

Chapters: One | Two | Three

„Yes, she should be waking up soon. Yeah… Okay, alright… I get it. See you then” the voice speaking sounded harsh and so annoyed. No, it sounded more likely annoying to you because you could immediately recognize it even though your eyes were still shut closed as you didn’t have the strength to open them yet.

The person who was in the same room as you walked up and down with heavy steps. The slight noise it made was really annoying you and you decided to finally open your eyes. The dazzling light shot into your eyes and you blinked a few times to adjust yourself to the brightness. You looked around finding yourself laying in a hospital room, the clock showing 10.45 PM.

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Protector (Peter Parker x Reader)

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

*Not my GIF*

Word Count: 2236

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

You were picked up your textbooks and notebooks, hugging them to your chest and walked briskly out of the classroom. It had been a long and terribly boring school day, as most school days were at the end of the year. The popular guys were pissing off the teachers and talking loudly, the more fashionable girls were Snap-chatting in class, and the teachers were fed up with everyone but still sane enough to give out detention slips. You balanced your binders on your knee while trying to open your locker as quickly as possible, eager to get on the bus to go home. It was Friday, and school was ending next week, much to everyone’s relief. A text from Peter just minutes before had left you in good spirits; he asked to come over like always for a Friday night movie marathon with Michelle and Ned, set with popcorn, ice cream and junk food of every kind. Stuffing things into your backpack and slamming the locker shut, you started down the hallway. The loud chatter from other students passing you gradually got more quiet as people in the very front of the school grew deadly still and began to crowd around something, blocking the entire hall. Whispers and muttering broke out, students everywhere desperate to get to the front where pushing and shoving your small form. Suddenly, a loud, collective gasp came from somewhere in front, followed by laughter and something being banged against what could only be a locker. You huffed loudly, just wanting to get to the buses until-

“Parker, Parker, Parker…” The students in the front chanted, jeering even louder now. Your eyes widened and the breath left your lungs. You shoved people aside, ignoring their grumbles and cursing to break into the inner circle. Another loud metal bang echoed, almost drowned by the loud laughter. Charging through row after row of high schoolers, you ignored the sharp jabs to your stomach from different restless kids. Maybe it isn’t him. You think, already knowing the answer. C’mon Peter, please don’t tell me it’s you out there. Reaching the inner circle, you desperately tried to squeeze between the line of tall guys that stood in front. You duck down, finding a little crack between the wall of jocks to look though. Sure enough, Peter’s beat up sneakers were just visible as he was pushed backwards against the line of lockers.

“How’s that Parker?” Flash Thompson’s voice rang out, angry and arrogant. “Wanted to taste the floor today, didn’t ya?” You hear Peter groan loudly, probably attempting to fight back.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Ned yelled, also trying to help his friend.

“Let me handle this Ned.” Michelle warned, and you calm down a bit. Michelle could help- she was very scary when needed. “Wait ‘till I get my hands on that son of a bitch.”

“What are you going to do?” One of Flash’s friends taunted. “Bore us to death with some nerd science?” Michelle snarled, losing her cool. Poor Ned had to grab both her wrists to hold her back.

“Hey Parker,” Flash announced, lifting Peter off the ground by the hem of his t-shirt. “Why are you so annoying, eh Parker?”

“A-all I did was tell you to s-shut up.” Peter retaliated, squirming. “Not my fault you have the temper of a bull with anger issues.” Flash grabbed Peter’s hair and slammed his head against the lockers. This made anger boiled in you like hot lava, making your head fill with thoughts of how to brutally murder Flash. You pushed even harder against the blockade Flash’s friends made, only managing to kick them in the heel. Fuck that. You think, absolutely enraged. The teachers just had to be in a meeting right now.

“Puny Parker,” Flash teased, cruel and unforgiving. “No wonder you hang out with the losers. D’you really think the Liz Allan would go out with you? Good thing you gave up on that, right? How does it feel to be such an epic loser that you hang around them!” He pointed to Ned restraining Michelle.

“And that other weird girl, what’s her name?” Flash asks. “Bet she only hangs around you ‘cuz she feels sorry for your ugly ass!”

“Leave them out of this! Leave her alone!” Peter yells, swinging his arms to punch Flash.

“Aww, does Puny Parker have a new crush?” Flash cooed, fake pouting. “Gonna go home and cry to your aunt and uncle? Oh wait-you can’t ‘cuz your uncle’s dead. Probably killed himself when he saw what a little bitch he had as a nephew-”

“ENOUGH!” You roared, finally forcing your way past Flash’s ogre friends. Stomping over to him, you let the backpack fall to the floor with a ‘thud’. The students became silent, watching the scene that was unraveling before them. Flash was so shocked he dropped Peter, who slumped against the lockers. You rush to him and drop to your knees, taking his face in your hands and inspecting it. Peter mumbled something about being fine, but his bleeding lip and bruised cheek said otherwise.

“You’ll be alright Peter.” You soothed, wiping the hair from his forehead. “Can you breathe okay? Not going to pass out, right?” He nodded weakly, face growing pink from embarrassment upon realizing that everyone was watching them.

“Okay-umm…” You glance at Ned and Michelle, then help Peter up, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Y-you’re going to be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

Limping Peter over, you slip his arm off your shoulder and let Ned hold him up. “Take him to the storage closet.” You plead. “Stay there-I’ll be there in a bit.” Michelle nods solemnly and begins to shout at people to make a path. You slowly turn to Flash, a new fire in your eyes.

“What gave you the right?” You ask quietly, your voice a dangerous calm. “What gave you the right to treat him like that Flash?”

“Hey shorty, don’t start.” Flash says, smirking down at you. “Don’t even pretend you can hurt me.”

“Maybe I can’t hurt you, although rest assured that I really, really want to.” You hiss spitefully. “You envy Peter, don’t you?” Flash’s grin slips off of his face and he growls, cracking his knuckles.

You continue, not intimidated by his actions. “You envy Peter because he’s smart enough to be a damn nuclear physicist,” Your voice is rising steadily, reaching the point of near shouting. “And the only job you’ll ever get is serving food at FUCKING MCDONALDS!” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you calm down a bit, feeling about ready to physically explode.

Flash steps closer to you, his red face looking down at you menacingly. “Are you threatening me, you little-”

You cut him off almost immediately, standing on your toes to seem taller. “Am I threatening the great Flash Thompson?” You announce sarcastically. “Hell yeah I am. Don’t think I didn’t see the S.O.L. cheat paper in your backpack. Y’know how much trouble that can get you in? Forget detention, dumb-ass. That’s worth expulsion from school.” Flash paled visibly, stepping back from you.

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh yes, I would!” You snapped, flailing your arms around wildly. “I can have you expelled faster than you can say your own name. So how about-” You walk up to him and jab an accusing finger at his chest.

“You leave Peter, Ned and Michelle alone-” You poke him a bit harder, taking another step forward. “Stop being such an asshole-” Another sharp prod to his chest.

“And if you ever hurt Peter again, I’ll make the rest of your high school years a living hell!” You shout, pushing Flash back forcefully. Then, picking up your backpack and spinning around on your heel, you stomp away, leaving the stunned highschoolers behind.

The hallways are a blur as you break into a run, sprinting to the famous storage closet that is often used as a hideout or meeting place. You skidded to a halt at the familiar grey plaque on the wall that read “Room 201: Storage”. It takes three quick knocks, a pause, and another two for Ned to open the locked door. You dart inside and take in the sight before you. Peter looked nothing short of terrible; his lip was still bleeding profusely and there was a nice sized cut on his head that made the hair stick to his forehead, staining it a dark red. It hurt you how utterly defeated he was. Remind me to kill Flash later. You think scathingly. Michelle elbows Ned in the side and stares pointedly at the door. When Ned gives her a confused look in return, she rolls her eyes and pushed him out of the storage closet, giving you a hopeful smile before shutting the door.

“Why didn’t you clean up?” You ask, keeping your voice calm.

“I was waiting for you to come.” Peter murmured faintly.

“Peter…” You trailed off, picking a roll of paper towels off a shelf.

“It’s pathetic, I know.” He said, hugging his knees to his chest. “Maybe-maybe you shouldn’t hang around me… You’ll just become another target for Flash.”

“Peter, you’re the smartest person I know…” You start, crumpling a paper towel into a ball. “-So why are you being such a dumb-ass?” Peter looks up, surprised at the change of tone.


“You heard me. Stop being stupid.” You dab gently at his forehead with the ball of paper towels, seeing him wince at every touch. “How could I ever want to stop being around you, hmm? You’re a freaking awesome guy, smarter than anyone else I know. You’re kind and funny and fucking amazing, okay? And Flash won’t even come near us any more unless he wants to be kicked out of school.”

Peter chuckled slightly. “Knowing how you get when angry he probably pissed his pants. Twice.”

“Don’t dodge the topic.” You said coolly, throwing the bloody towel away and getting a new one. “Why do you think you’re not enough? Why don’t you understand how much I-”

“Because-because I don’t know!” Peter said exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in defeat. He was trying to keep it together but the way his voice cracked when he spoke told you how he really was. “You’re you, and I’m just me! How could I possibly be enough for someone like you, huh? Spider-man is the hero, he’s the one who saves people and climbs walls! I’m Peter fucking Parker, the loser who couldn’t even save his-”

You wrap your arms around him, effectively shutting him up. Both of you stay still for a while and you refuse to let him go until his breathing evens out. After hours, or maybe just seconds, Peter sighs in content against your hair, slumping into your body and relaxing. Your hand weaves through his brown locks, gently tugging and pulling, making him whimper softly.

Before you could even think what you were doing, you pulled away for a second and brushed your lips against his jawline ever so lightly. Peter froze and his heart rate began to speed up again.

“Spider-man is great, really he is. But Spider-man’s no Peter Parker.” You say in a rushed whisper, placing his head on your shoulder. “Peter Parker is this fantastically nerdy guy with endless science jokes and big geek glasses and-and he never fails to make his friends laugh, and he may just be the dictionary definition of perfect! That’s how you are, Peter. Just a big ball of freaking adorable dorkiness and it should never be any other way.”

You could feel Peter smile against your shoulder, rubbing his nose against the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re amazing too y’know.” Came Peter’s muffled reply. He moved his head to speak clearly. “You scared Flash Thompson. That’s worth at least a Nobel Prize, being that bad-ass. And you’re better at science than me.”

“Wow Peter, no big speech for me?” You say, laughing slightly. “Fine then. We’re both pretty impressive, huh?”

Peter dug his face back into your shirt and hummed.

“D’you want to go to your place and just chill for awhile?” You ask hesitantly, scared he would freak out over the kiss and say no. Peter beamed brightly and nodded.

“Sure. Stay the night?” He replied, feeling a lot better now. The iPod in your pocket dinged and you saw a text from Michelle explaining that she and Ned were going to skip movie night just this once. You rolled your eyes at the wink emoji that she kept sending.


If anyone were to walk into the living room of the Parker residence at about 11:30 p.m., they would have seen a girl and a boy asleep soundly on the couch, the TV still playing old episodes of Teen Wolf. The two teens were, of course, a hopeless mess of tangled bodies. Both your hands were entwined in Peter’s hair and one leg was thrown over his hip while his arms were wrapped around your waist, his head against your chest, pulling you closer. At around 12:45 a.m. Peter’s hands would move lower to a less innocent place on your body and by 2:20 a.m. you had both rolled over so that you were now on top of him, your head in the crook of his neck. At 4:30 a.m. you sighed in your sleep, peaceful and happy.

Count Your Lucky Stars (Alternative Ending 1)

Alright kiddies, here’s one of the two endings I promised you. Sorry it’s a little late, I got caught up at work. In case you are wondering, yes this ending does contain an angsty ending because what better way to end Langst other than with more angst. And yes again, that was a Blink-182 and Panic! at the Disco reference in there. Why? Because everything I do is bittersweet. The second ending I’m currently typing and should be up later on. Anyways, enjoy!!

Finally, after nearly a month they were able to track down the Galra ship that had Lance. It was concerning the amount of time he had spent at the hands of the Galran Prince. The longer it took to find Lance, the more time Lotor could’ve spent winning him over to their side.

Everyone knew they were being selfish and maybe doing some wishful thinking, hoping that Lance would remain loyal. During the time it took to find him they had gone through all of the little black stars held in the jar. And boy did that take some time. If by some miracle Lance came back, it would probably only be for the sake of Coran and Hunk. The amount of stars the two had combined could be counted on both hands.

Even with that fact present, Hunk was still beating himself up with the hurtful things he said, and that he couldn’t tell his best friend was feeling so down. He wasn’t even sure if he could still call Lance his best friend because Hunk felt he didn’t deserve the right. He should’ve seen all the signs, and took the time to comfort him, or at least let him know there’s someone by his side.

Most of Shiro’s stars were blank. It confused all of them for a while. It was only after separating them into piles of who said what and then based on their memories if they were said in the same conversation, that it hit him. The blank stars were to symbolize all the times Shiro had ignored Lance. All the times he brushed him to the side, not seriously considering the things the Blue Paladin said. Shiro didn’t take into consideration that sometimes silence can hurt far more than words.

Pidge felt she had a lot to think about. She knows she can be snappy practically all the time since she doesn’t get the most sleep. Some things she doesn’t even remember saying, but they seem to have struck deep. Her heart continuously breaks at the thought of losing another brother. This pain more unbearable because it wouldn’t be the Galra’s fault this time, it would be her own.

Keith couldn’t even wrap his head around the unforgivable things he said. The worst part about it all he could’ve fixed it. Too many times he told himself that he was going too far, but he just kept on pushing. Too many times he wanted to chase after Lance and apologize, but coward out. Keith wondered which one of these stars would contain the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Allura couldn’t find any way to excuse herself for the things she said to Lance. She was caught off guard when she saw that some of her stars were written in Altean. It was a little messy and off, but she knew what they said. Coran had informed her that Lance had started learning the Altean language to try and make them feel less alone. He was always acting with her feelings in mind, and all she did was treat him as a pest.

Coran simply needed to work on his listening skills. Thinking back on their previous conversations he realized that he would interrupt Lance as he spoke. He can understand that being interrupted can cause one to feel as though their words aren’t important. This he experienced himself growing up. It wasn’t that he felt his words were more important than Lance’s, he just hasn’t had anyone to talk to in so long that he sometimes get carried away. The others also don’t seem to show as much enthusiasm as Lance does when he’s listening to his stories.

While Pidge and Keith kept the Galra ships busy outside, Shiro and Hunk infiltrated it to find Lance. Usually, Pidge would be used for stealth missions, but they felt if Lance truly needed convincing, it would be best to bring Hunk along. It didn’t appear to be necessary because they found him in a cell, beaten and bruised. This could only mean that Lance refused to change sides. Even after all they’ve done, all they’ve said, Lance remained loyal.

They were able to get him to the ship and worm-holed away without too much of a hassle. Maybe luck was on their side since Prince Lotor or Haggar didn’t appear to be on the ship at the time. If they weren’t so happy to have Lance back, they would’ve been concerned that it was a trap. If it was one, they’d worry about that later. For now, they’ll just count their lucky stars. Everyone was present this time, they made sure of that. After they got him into a healing pod Coran announced it would be about two earth days before he would wake. The injuries being shallow enough that they wouldn’t scar or take long to heal.

When Lance woke up they were all there paying attention this time, and not having a clock party. Everyone apologized profoundly for… well for everything. For forgetting him, for taking so long to find him, for all the mean things they said, for going through his stuff while he was gone, and for all the small things. They promised they would change if he was willing to give them a chance. Lance always believed in second chances, and to prove he was willing to move on, he burned all the stars, good and bad, so that they could start fresh again.

The team put forth their best effort to start complimenting Lance more and watching what they said around him. They started doing things they felt they should’ve done in the first place. So, when they went into Lance’s room after sending him on a solo mission to check their progress after three months to say they were shocked was an understatement. While “the good jar” had significantly more and “the bad jar” had significantly less (although a lot of them seemed to be things Lance thought about himself now), there was now a third jar added to the collection: The Dirty. This one had little gray stars in them. Nothing written on them was bad. If anything, they seemed like they belong in “the good jar”.

It took a while for them to put two and two together in order to understand exactly what “the dirty jar” was made for. When it finally hit them, they realized they would be fighting two wars at once. This jar was made for the words they said, that Lance didn’t believe. Of course, it would take more than just a few nice words to solve everything. They also had to put action behind those words to get Lance to believe them. They were all willing to fight this fight, but how can they when it’s fought in Lance’s own subconscious? How will they be able to prove to the Blue Paladin that they loved him if he didn’t seem to love himself?

Main StoryEnding 1/ Ending 2

Been thinking alot about how fandom really focuses on Sansa and ‘lying’. To me, it is very overstated and overfocused considering Sansa never lies with malicious intent to hurt people. Sure, how she shapes and interprets reality in A Game Of Thrones especially with the Trident Incident is important (where she falsely recalls Mycah hitting Joffrey) is important, but it’s not the be end all of the character. How Sansa grows and changes is also vital. Here, I’ll try to make clear that lying is not one of Sansa’s ‘flaws’, she is human and is not perfect but holding her lies against her doesn’t really work.

I don’t mind discussion about how lying impacts on Sansa, and the role in plays within her story- my problem is when people use that as a reason to be against her character.

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Unstable (Part 1/?) (Parker/Maximoff x reader)


1.  sillverstarr said:Will you write an avenger’s fic where the reader is kinda in a Lucy situation? She suddenly has power over more percentage of her brain and goes to the avenger’s for help to stabilize her brain activity and share her knowledge and powers? Thank you so much, you are seriously amazing  

2.  Heyy bonnie. request: peter x reader where the reader has some sort of power? one that’s potentially dangerous and she’s a part of the avengers and once peter joins they like each other but reader is scared she’ll hurt him so she tries to distance herself?

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  They would come for you now, and you would be locked away forever once they saw the damage that you had just caused; the death around you that was on your hands. It wasn’t fully your fault; you had been given too much power, too many abilities, and not enough control.  Your brain was nearly at 100% activity and it was spiraling into depths that terrified and intrigued you at the same time. There was almost no limit to what you could do now, but you would be considered a weapon after this; you would be considered a threat that needed to be neutralized, and they would be coming for you.

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Thieves Among Us (Part 4)

Let Jon have his armies and his devoted wildlings and the love of their people, she thinks. Let him have his dragon queen. She’s in possession of a secret, tragic as it may be, but at least it’s entirely her own. For Sansa, that’s more than enough. It has to be. Rated M; inspired by content from S7. Previous chapters can be found here.

A huge thanks to @alittlestardustcaught for beta reading this chapter!

We used to play in the godswood together when we were children, me and you and Robb and Theon. You remember that, don’t you?

Jon stared at the ancient face carved into the heart tree. That was what Sansa had asked him when they had been in the broken tower, when the tension in that small room had been thick enough to taste on his tongue. There she was, looking out towards the godswood with her back facing him, her body a tense line, her voice soft and wistful. It wasn’t enough to fool him—Jon knew that she was barely holding herself together, but he couldn’t undo what had been done. Worse, he didn’t what she was referring to—not then, not now. It rang true, was the thing, authentic, and yet for the life of him he couldn’t conjure any memory whatsoever to fit with her words. All those moons ago, Jon had assumed that he’d been too wrapped up in his intentions to think about anything else other than what he had to do, what he had to end, but lately his perceptions had altered. More and more, he realized that there were other things he couldn’t remember, a dark space in his consciousness where something ought to have been, but no longer was. It left him feeling unsettled and out-of-touch, but he had yet to mention it to anybody. Jon wanted to change that.

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Another update! Here we go, y’all. The rescue in action!  There remains references to the injuries described in the previous ficlet, but it’s not as graphic.

Warning: This deals with the aftermath of an explosion.

Vokara Che is drinking a glass of water when it happens.

The Force shrieks, tearing through her, and in her shock her grip on the glass slips. It crashes against the floor of the Halls of Healing, splintering into a million pieces and splashing water everywhere. She pays it no attention, still lost in the feeling that washed over her through the Force.

Coming back to herself, Vokara looks around the Halls; all the other healers have stopped just as she did, looking around as if searching for danger—which means Vokara was not the only one who felt it. That is interesting, but also horrifying in its implications. What in the core worlds happened?

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Ludus Tibi Potentias Impiorum

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Fluff, humor, angst, Witch!Jungkook, father thing?

Word Count: 4,730

A/N: I WAS GOING TO MAKE THIS FOR HOBI BUT GODDAMN IT JUNGKOOK WAS TOO COCKY TO LET THIS PASS and I googled so many things and apparently a warlock kinda counts as an insult in this and so does a wizard just a disclaimer thing and everything that doesn’t look like it’s in english (aka a lot((including the title)) is in latin heuheuheuheu so I hope y’all like it and shit thanks for readingggg~

      “Darling… I-I’m so sorry… Please, take care of her…”

      This was the routine. The parents sobbing, gripping onto the small thing like their life depends on it. Their cheeks flushed and hair a mess, like they had already grown attached to the infant. Even though it’s been inside a whole different person for the majority of their bonding. Come on, why the hell are you talking to a woman’s stomach? Let her be! She’s got her own problems to worry about. Okay, so besides that, even though you had told them beforehand that you were going to take the damn thing, they still try to talk you out of it! Like, um, hello? You made this deal with me, you said, “Oh yeah, sure, I’ll give my firstborn to witch. Why the hell not.” (not that exactly, but you get the gist), and that was it. It was set in stone. You give your baby to me. Kapeesh? Good. Just give me the baby, and maybe I won’t have to put a spell on you.

      Really, it shouldn’t be this hard. Move your arms out, hand it to me, and I’ll leave. Ugh, I can’t believe these mortals. So complicated.

      “She’ll be fine Ma’am, but if you please, drink this. You’ll never remember anything that has happened. Both of you must drink it. Less pain for you.” Slowly, they reached for the vials, sipping them dry. You were ready to leave, pulling out a second vial until a crash interrupted you, a man appearing. Oh god, they made two deals?! “What do you want?!”

      A chuckle arose from the man’s throat, his deep eyes piercing through you. “I think the correct words you’re looking for are, here is the baby, now I’ll be on my way.” A sarcastic smile framed itself on both of your lips, quickly turning into snarls.

      “She’s mine. We made a deal, the newborn gets handed over to me. Nice try Jungkook.”

      “Oh, silly (Y/N). If only you knew. I made the deal with the father when he was twenty five.” Despite the fact that you two were mortal enemies, standing in the same room, fighting over the same mortal baby, and making deals with the same parents, there were a lot of other strange factors happening here. Main thing though: two witches made the same for the same firstborn.

      “I got the wife. She was fourteen. Nice try darling.” Pouring the bottle on your feet, you started your chant, only to be stopped by the other witch. A grip on your wrist had you looking up, glaring at him.

      “The baby is mine.

      “Get your twisted hands off of me you warlock, I’m not giving her to you.”

      “And you think I’m letting you keep her?” Your bickering went on and on, not remembering about the two mortals still standing in the room.

      “Just share her. Y’know, like… Have you two switch days. She stays with either of you for so long. And by the way, what the fuck are you two doing in my house?” You had both been at each other’s throats, but with the mutter of  few words, you had taken him back to your cottage in the woods.

      “Share her? Please, mortals are so stupid. You cannot share a deal trade, that is simply nonsense.”

      A scoff tumbled its way out of your lips, a shake of your head adding to it. “Who do they think they are? ‘Oh, you can just share this damn baby, the one you both were going to raise and train.’ Yeah, like a weak thing like this could handle the training both of us would be giving it. That’s just torture.”

      A silence fell over you both, your heads raising to look at each other. “Did we just… Agree on something?”

      “No. I refuse to believe that. Now, leave, before I banish you myself.”

      “I’m not leaving until you give me the child!” Who does this man think he is? Gandolf?

      “If you’re so confident that the child is yours, then try the mortal’s idea.” The words left you before you could grasp what you had really just offered, your eyes widening as a smug smirk grew on Jungkook’s features.

      “You, (Y/N) (L/N), want me, Jeon Jungkook, otherwise known as your arch fucking enemy, to live with you?”

      “That isn’t what I said!” Oh deus. That is what you said, just not entirely what you meant. Well, what did you mean…?

      “That is exactly what you said. And, seeing as you offered it, I’m taking it up.” Did… Did you hear him right? This little filius canis is actually doing this just to piss you off. 

      You locked gazes with him, yours hard and unforgiving. His, however, had a glint of playfulness strung through his coffee irises, with the sheer look of determination laced in as well. “Ede faecam.”

      “Potes meos suaviari clunes.” This irrumator. 

      “I wouldn’t do that if my immortality was taken from me.” A smirk rose onto your face as you strolled into your room, the small child in your hands. “Her name will be Venus, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

      “There’s always my butt if you want it.”

      “Fututus et mori in igni.” His laugh echoed throughout the whole house, eliciting many cries from the baby. “Deus deodamnatus… You are a terrible father you faex.”

      “Flocci non faccio, darling. See? I can cuss too!” You rolled your eyes, flicking your finger up to silence the baby. You strolled back out to the kitchen, moving all of the wildly colored bottles in the fridge around until you came across the two mason jars filled with milk.

      “You know, if you plan on staying here and raising this child, you’re gonna have to make yourself useful somehow. Mix up some sleeping potions, make some lunch, kill yourself with a wooden stake. All of the above would be nice too.” Walking back to the baby, you maneuvered the milk well enough to where it would fall in it’s mouth. “Ugh, I do hope this thing doesn’t grow up to be as ugly as you.” 

      “You must be mistaken, darling. That’s my line.” He walked back into the room, surprisingly holding some bottles in his hands that would help with the baby. “And anyways, it looks better than most babies. Not as small or crinkled, she’ll be strong.”

      A heavy sigh left your lips, the color draining from the air. “I feel like this is something we will both greatly regret.”

      “Well, I know it is.”

      “Venus, stop running! You need to eat!”

      “Tempus adhuc stare - ut faciam tibi. Transiet per minutis ad non facere, quod ego facere non. Tempus adhuc stare - ut faciam tibi.” With the chant of a spell and the flick of his wrist, Jungkook calmly walked to the frozen Venus, hauled her onto his shoulder, and flicked his wrist again.

      “Jungkook, you can’t just freeze time whenever you need something…”

      “Of course I can. I just did, didn’t I?” You rolled your eyes, and smiled when your pupil squealed on the shoulder of your acquaintance.

      “Kookie, put me down! I’ll eat, I swear! Just pleaseeee, put me down!”

      “Cross your heart?”

      The girl rolled her eyes, were grin becoming wider and wider. “Hope to die, stick a needle in my eyes. You happy?”

      “Very. Now eat, before I feed you flies when I turn you into a toad.” A squeal came from the young apprentice, as she jumps into her chair and shovels forkfuls of the steak you had made, sounds of happiness coming from her.

      You glared at the man, blaming him for raising her to be so… Unprofessional. He would always swing her around, carry her, play hide and seek with her. Not even the good hide and seek, where you would cast a spell to help, it was the mortal’s game! He raised her like a human, and you were not in favor of the whole idea. “You are making this harder for her. She’ll never learn well if you treat her like, a-a princess! You can’t have her prancing around, making her think she’s all high and mighty. If anything, she’s lower than most humans. Don’t get her hopes up.”

      The girl was twelve by now, very intelligent for her age. You were never easy on her, and she knew your tactics. Jungkook was good for her - all three of you knew that, too. He was that breath of fresh air, the blanket draped over one’s shoulders on a frigid winter day. He made everything fun for her, making it all easier. You were harsh, keeping it straight to the point. No humor, no praise. A quiet, “good job”, was about the best she’ll get from you. She was the perfect combination of you both. The humor and confidence of Jungkook, but the mindset and persistence from you. You had to admit, having him here made things better. For one, it made her better.

      It made you better.

      A laugh poured out from his lips, a genuine one, at that. The way his nose crinkled, and his eyes shone bright with joy, it made you want to smile. But you didn’t. “It’s called having fun, (Y/N). You should try it with us sometime.” His laugh tickled your ears again, the sound melodious and cheery. You didn’t really like that combination. Unless it was with those two.

      “I don’t need fun to have a good time. I need spells and herbs. Nothing more.” Yes, that’s right folks, the emotionless (Y/N) (L/N) has grown attached to these two. The human and the enemy. Wonderful.

      “Yeah, sure you don-”

      “(Y/N), I’m ready for today’s lecture.” Looking down at the girl, a smirk rose onto your face. Her exterior had changed immensely, the once smiling and bright girl, had turned cold and stoic. She knew your expectations, and she lived up to them. You were proud of her for that.

      “Well, get on with it then. Protection spell today. Grab the herbs. Jungkook, if you die today, blame it on her.

      “Hey!” Their voices ran in unison, a laugh falling from your lips. 

      “Just saying. Now come. I need to summon something.” Taking Jungkook’s hand, you tugged him out of the cottage and into the clearing near the home. After Venus having grabbed the needed ingredients, you let her get on with it.

      Lighting the seven candles, she topped the bowl of herbs upon a Baphomet symbol, and cast the spell.

      “Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me.” Appearing behind Jungkook was a demon, who’s sole purpose was to kill him. Not something a twelve year old should be held responsible for doing, but, she’d live. Jungkook stood, as still as a tree, as he waited for the words to tumble from Venus’s mouth. A look of pure horror was spread over her face, something that read: “I can’t do it.” Stumbling over her words, she uttered the first few syllables of the chant, before bursting into tears. “R-regna t-t-terrae, cantat- I can’t do it! Jungkook, I-I’m sorr-”

      “Regna terrae, cantata deo, psallite cernun nos, regna terrae, cantata dea psallite aradia. Caeli deus, deus terrae, humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus ut ab omni infernamium spirituum potestate, laqueo, and deceptione nequitia, omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates. Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potetas, omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis and congregatio secta diabolica. Ab insidiis diaboli, libra nos, dominates, ut coven tuam secur tibi libertate servire facias, te rogamus, audi nos! Terribilis deus sanctuario suo, cernunnos ipse truderit virtutem plebi suae. Benedictus deus, gloria patri, benedictus dea, matri gloria!” The words left your lips in a storm, almost inaudible from how fast you were saying them. A sigh escaped your lips once the demon busted out into flames, your figure walking over to Venus, who was curled up in a ball. “You… Go inside Venus, me and Kookie will talk.” Holy shit, “Kookie”? That’s the first time you’ve called him that. First time for everything, I guess. 

      With a nod, the girl crashed back into the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

      “What the hell was that?!”

      “What the hell was what?! Did you want to get possessed?! She couldn’t do it, she was too scared. We shouldn’t expect this from her… It’s too much. It’ll eat away at her later in her life.”

      An eerie silence swallowed up your fight, both of you looking in opposite directions. “… Why’d you do it?”

      “Do what, Jungkook? Save your fucking life? Because she needs you, Jungkook. I need you. And she doesn’t need the burden of killing the one person she loves and looks up to on her shoulders.” Packing up the remains of the spell from the ground, you turned and ran into Jungkook.

      “You… Need me?” Expecting to look up to a cocky smirk on his face, you rolled your eyes and brushed passed him.

      “If you’re gonna put it like that, maybe I don’t.” Slamming the door behind you, you stashed the supplies away in the cabinets. If only you had really looked up to see the pleading look on Jungkook’s face, begging for you to confirm that, in fact, he did hear you right. If only you saw how broken he looked when you walked away, the image of his heart shattering clear in his eyes. If only you knew that he was the one that needed you, and that he thought his chances of having that were slimmer than slim.

      A knock at Venus’s door had her head shooting up from her hands, her body scrambling off of the bed to get to you. “I-I’m sorry (Y/N)… It shouldn’t have happened, I-I can make it up to you, I’ll-”

      “Sh. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have expected that much from you. In all honesty, I don’t even know if your Kookie would’ve been able to do that. You’re a brave girl, Venus. Don’t ever forget that.” A nod came from the girl, a kiss on her head coming from you. “Go clean up, I’ll make you a post dinner snack.” You smiled when she kissed your cheek and ran to shower, a smile that hadn’t appeared in a long time. Standing to go whip something up, you were met with Jungkook, whose eyes were locked onto the floor.

      “(Y/N), I-”      

      “Save it.” Knocking shoulders with him, you held your ground, stalking back into the kitchen. He knew how stubborn you were, and how there were almost no ways in the world to get you to listen to him. Almost.

      Coming up behind your figure, his thick arms pinned you against the counter. The initial shock of what he had just done rendered you speechless, giving him a slight chance to explain himself. “Goddamn it (Y/N), I swear on a demon’s eye that I didn’t mean to say it that way. Honestly, I don’t want to know if you care about me, just for the sake of my own heart. I’ll leave it at that.” Just as fast as it had happened, he was gone, already out the door. Your grip had tightened on the bag of sugar you were holing, cursing yourself for taking it the wrong way. Shaking the feeling of butterflies rising in your stomach, you continued to put together the mix for the cookies you were making.

      You knew you couldn’t give him what he wanted. So, you wouldn’t. For the safety of this household. If anyone got too close, you’d all be weakened in a heartbeat.

      Years had already passed, and you had given Venus her first assignment. It was to hike up the mountain - with the accompaniment of you and Jungkook, of course -, gather anything she would need in the forest, and wipe out a majority of the demon population. The number of anything up there was scarce anyways, so it would be a simple task. The harder part was, to let her do it on her own.

      Truth be told, you had grown outrageously attached to the mortal, as well as Jungkook. Either way, the outcome wouldn’t be one you would particularly favor, so you kept quiet. There was always the occasional teasing from the both of them, which would tear a smile or a laugh.

      “Are we almost there?”

      “Shut your trap, Jungkook.”

      A laugh erupted from Venus’s throat, a glare from the man being directed to both of you. Venus had grown to be a beautiful young lady, but the passing years had done absolutely nothing to you and Jungkook. You both look the exact same - the scar that you had come to love on his cheek not looking even a day old. Venus had often made jokes about your immortality, and how you two are technically two walking corpses in disguise of very attractive people. But, being the teenager she is, she’s practically begged for you two to be together, saying that everything would be so much easier.

      And that she’d actually have a family.

     “Maybe if you were a bit more patient and observant, you’d notice we’re already here. It’s just the matter of whether or not the demons feel like playing.” You both looked up at Venus, a smile growing on your face. “You can both start out by setting up a symbol in the clearing, and I’ll set up a camp in case we have to stay the night.”

      “Okay, sheesh, fine mini (Y/N).” Jungkook grumbled a few things about how, ‘she really has worn off on you, I want the old Venus back.’, while taking out some paste to paint the trap. Dropping your bags in the middle, you grabbed some brushes to help with the trap.

      “Don’t spill it all this time, you dimwit.”

      “That was one time!”

      “Enough to almost get us all killed.”

      “If the trap doesn’t get set up, we will be killed. Please don’t fight today guys, just once. I get that you two hate each other and all, but act like you’re married for a day.”

      “We aren’t married!” You and Jungkook yelled at her in unison, a howl of laughter coming from her. “You might as well start calling us your parents if you’re pulling that game.”

      A smirk arose on her face at Jungkook’s words, her arms crossing over her chest. “Then get to work dad.” This earned a facepalm from you, snatching the bowl of paste from his hands.

      “Great job Kook. Great. Job.” Both of you glared at each other, before he moved to plop onto the pile of bags inside the circle. “What the hell are you doing?!”

      “You took the paint, don’t look at me.” Rolling your eyes, you flicked your finger and muttered a few words. In a second flat, he was no longer the handsome man you knew, but an ugly toad covered in warts. You bursted out laughing at the sound of horror that came from his throat, the mere croak of a toad showcasing his disgust. “Turn me back!” His voice was too big for his tiny body, a hiccup of surprise coming from him.

      “You’re more useful in this state. It may be easier to kill you. And plus, no demon wants to posses a creature as ugly as you. I’m just saving your life.”      “Forgive me, o righteous one, for I have forgotten my place.” His sarcastic tone dulled out the air around him, rolling his eyes and he hopped over to you.

      “You are forgive- ARGH! GET AWAY FROM ME, TOAD BOY!!!” Upon hopping his way over to you, he had jumped onto you. Except he landed on… Well… Your chest. Spewing out the return spell, your back crashed against one of the enormous tree trunks, and he had returned back to his normal form. With his face buried in your breasts. Unable to form a complete sentence, you instead went straight to kicking him away from you. Both of your faces were bright red, and Venus’s roaring laughter in the background didn’t help the situation one bit.

      “I-I, um, y-you, uh…”

      “Let’s just… Pretend none of this happened. Deal?”

      “Deal.” Handing him the bowl of paste that was set on the ground, you let him finish the trap as you went back to the center. Not before Venus could confront you, though.

      “T-that, was priceless! The look on your faces, oh god, you should’ve seen it! That was completely golden! Oh my god, BEST FIRST MISSION EVER!!!!” As the blush made a statement on your face, you rolled your eyes and hid away into one of the tents. One of the two.

     “Venus…?” A hum of acknowledgement came from her, and you rested your head in your hands. “Why are there only two tents…”

       A snicker came from the girl as she tried to contain her laughter about the situation. “So you and dad can have your own, of course.” A sigh fell from your lips as you dared not to press on the matter at hand, knowing that she would never cave, and that neither you nor Jungkook would be in the mood to put up another tent. Setting the floor of the tent with blankets and pillows, you laid your body down under a mound of wool to rest. Hearing the flap unzip and the strangled cough coming from the intruder, you knew it had to have been Jungkook.

      “So I’ll take it she’s making us stay together…?”

      “Yep.” A sigh came from him, the blankets next to you rustling. You tucked your head deeper into the blankets, falling fast asleep in minutes time.

      As soon as he realized you were out, his arms found their way around you, pulling you closer to his chest. If she wakes up like this, he thinks, I can just say I was keeping her warm. There’s quiet a breeze tonight. So, with you encased in his hold, he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of none other than you.       

      Waking up later in the night, you decided you would get a head start on gathering some supplies. Only to be stopped by the grip Jungkook had on you.

      Not now, you thought. I don’t need these feelings hitting me in the face at this time of night. Sliding your way out of his grasp, you silently managed to escape the little camp without waking either of them up.

      Well, that’s not entirely true.

      The second he no longer felt you against him, Jungkook had been aware of the fact that you had wandered off into the night. Following your steps, he slithered away from the clearing, and followed you out into the dense clutter of trees. But, there he saw you, looking like a goddess in the light of the moon. You were sitting on a rock near a quiet stream, watching the shooting stars reflect their brilliant light onto the rippling water. He stepped on a twig to make notice of his presence, just so that he wouldn’t fall asleep again with an aching groin.

      Your head whipped around to see Jungkook, standing in the shadows of the trees. He looked absolutely stunning under the light of the moon, a smile gracing his lips. “Mind if I join you?” Your cheeks flushed after noticing his bare torso, and you motioned to the rock adjacent to yours.

      “Not at all. How’d you know I was out here?”

      “I have my ways.” You both laughed at his antics, the barriers of your heart all breaking down. Now was the time that he could see the real you, the person you wanted to be around him. He made his way over to you, and instead of taking a seat on the other rock, he sat on yours. “So what are you doing out here?”

      You tore your gaze away from his, looking back down into the water. “Ah… I was just thinking.”


      “About what we would do if anything happened to the three of us. How we would deal. If we would want to even deal at all…” Your eyes fell from the skies to the stream, a tear threatening to make its way down your cheek.

      “Hey… Don’t get all sappy on me. Nothing will happen to any of us, not while I’m around. And that will be along time.” He quietly chuckled, bringing his arm back around your waist. “That I can promise you.”

      You smiled, resting your head on his shoulders. “Shut up, I don’t wanna break my record for longest days without crying because of you.” You both laughed, taking in this extremely rare moment.

      “(Y/N)…?”      Tilting your head up to look at him, you were met with his warm gaze, something that could swallow you up whole. “Yeah?”

      “You know I love you right?”

      “I love you too toad boy.”

      “Oh, wow, way to ruin the moment!” You lifted your head up in laughter, only for it to be ceased by his hand on the back of your neck and his lips pressed against yours. Warmth spread over your body, the sparks flying through every single nerve. But, as you were both about to pull away, the click of a camera had you two falling off of the rock.

       A scream of delight came from the direction the previous sound came from, both of you looking up to see Venus jumping around, tears dripping down her cheeks. “I FINALLY HAVE A FAMILY!” Her display of happiness injected the feeling of hope, of pride and joy into your veins, tears rolling down your own face.

      “A… Family…” Running over to the both of you, she threw her arms tightly around you two, hiding her face away from sight.

      “I love you mom, I love you dad. I love you both so much.”

      Jungkook looked over to you with a bright smile, kissing your lips and leaving a peck on Venus’s head. “We love you too darling.”

      “ANASTASIA! (Y/N), Where’d you go?” Hearing your call from outside with Venus, he heaved out a sigh and scoured the house to find his other daughter. “Oh, my little gumdrop… Where are you?” A muffled yelp of surprise came from him, as his daughter’s hand quickly clasped firmly over his mouth from behind.

      Coming in with Venus and baskets of fresh fruit, you set everything down on the table and brushed your hands off. “Jungkook?” Calling out for your husband, you only got silence in return. Looking over at Venus, she offered you a nod before you went off to find your husband and daughter. Upon seeing the thirteen year old trying to cast a spell on Jungkook, your laugh danced through the air. “Ahhh Anastasia, what have I told you? No spells before dinner. You can turn your father into a toad afterwards.”

      Your daughter looked up at you, a pleading look in the beautiful eyes that she shared with Jungkook. “But mom-”

      “You heard me. No buts. He’s all yours after dinner though, you’ll live. Now go help your sister with the vegetables.

      She laughed and hugged you, kissing your cheek. “Ugh, fine. Thanks mom, I love you!” She ran off to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

      “Love you too!”

      Looking back down at your hopeless husband on the bed, you broke out into a fit of laughter as he pulled you down and tickled you. “What about me?” 

      “F-fine, j-just let me go!” Gasping for air, he laughed and hugged you, leaving kisses all over your face. “I love you, toad boy.”

      He grinned and laughed at the nickname, placing a loving kiss on your lips.

      “I love you too baby.”

Auston Matthews - Part 24

Explicit content, beginning marked with “~~” as well as when it ends. 

I exhaust myself but finish my kitchen by the time the game starts, thanks to time zones. I hunt down my box of blankets and snuggle down on the couch with my pups. I get the feeling this is going to become a nightly routine when Auston has a game. Not that I didn’t used to watch the Leafs play, I just usually had something in front of me as well, but now I feel guilty if I don’t watch the game in its entirety. They have a few days before another game, getting a little bit of a break after a tough road trip and Auston will be home in the morning, but I doubt I’ll be able to see him until later tomorrow.

               My eyes are getting heavier and heavier as the game goes on, Toronto taking the early lead. By the time first intermission comes on I have to stumble to my coffee maker and down an expresso. It doesn’t help. So instead I set an alarm on my phone to take a little cat nap before the second period. This does work.

               I’m able to make myself stay awake for the entire game and see him score yet another goal. I purse my lips, deep in thought as I eye the blue jerseys on my screen. I remember telling Auston that I would never wear his jersey when I had first met him, I debate a moment if that still stands true. I decide it does. For now.

               Once the game ends, a close three to two win, I barely manage to text Auston about his game and a goodnight before passing out right there on the couch. My first night in my first house and I don’t even make it to my bedroom.

               The morning sun is unforgiving as it come in through the uncovered windows, the only things that I didn’t have were curtains and blinds. Those were the first things on my list to get after I settle in. I have zero food in my fridge so I settle for a poptart for breakfast and dig my phone out from under the couch cushions and there’s a message from Auston waiting and several snapchats.

               Thanks babe, cant wait to c u tomorrow.

               It was sent at nearly two in the morning. I tap through the snapchats from his teammates, one of them he’s smiling at his phone and Will captioned it “wonder who he could possibly be reading.” I compare the time Will sent me the snap to when Auston texted me and it matches perfectly and I can’t help but grin at myself.

               Call me when you wake up.

               I quickly send to Auston and rub my hands together, wondering which room to move into next. I wander upstairs and into the open sitting room that I’ll probably make into an office, which leads to the bedrooms and bathroom. I nudge open the door to my room and I eye the boxes lined up against every wall and cringe. When did I get so much shit?

               I spend the next hour setting up my bed and getting that made, moving onto the boxes of clothes that are the primary thing taking up all the boxes. My phone goes off around eleven and I answer it quickly.

               “Hello,” I say shyly.

               “First time you’ve answered and it doesn’t sound like a question,” Auston’s groggy voice comes through the phone and I know he must have just woken up.

               “Well this time I knew for sure it would be you,” I laugh into the phone and begin pacing the room, just as I always do on the phone.

               “Valid. How’s the unpacking?”

               “Slow. I have a lot more stuff than I thought,” I again eye the boxes I can still see in the hallway.

               “Well you want some help?” He asks through a yawn.

               “Are you going to help or nap?” I quirk an eyebrow.

               “Probably both,” he answers honestly and I laugh.

               “Fine, though I have no food beside fruit snacks and poptarts, so if you’re hungry you better eat at home,” I add, my own stomach grumbles and I wonder if I’m close to any delivery places.

               “I’ll bring lunch, what do you want?” Auston asks and I wonder if he heard my stomach through the phone.

               “I don’t care, I’m not in a sub mood so anything but that,” I say and I wait for him to complain that I’m one of those people who don’t like making decisions.

               “Okay, pizza good?” He asks and I blink in surprise.

               “Pizza’s perfect,” I smile. “I’ll text you my address.”

               “Alright, I’ll be there in about an hour,” I can hear him rustling his sheets and I know he’s getting up.

               “Can’t wait,” I say shyly again, a blush creeping into my cheeks.

               “Make that thirty minutes,” he says and I giggle.

               I say goodbye and hang up, I should go shower but I grab one more box and get set on unpacking the clothes in that one as well. I finish my sixth box when I hear a knock on the door downstairs. I startle and glance at the clock I just finish hanging on the wall and panic. It’s been exactly a half hour and I’m still in the clothes I wore yesterday. I contemplate for a moment before hurrying down the stairs.

               “Coming!” I call and my two dogs come barreling down the stairs with me. I frown wondering how they will react to Auston. I calm them down, taking a collar in either hand before opening the door with my elbow. There standing impeccably dressed and holding two pizza boxes in his hands is the boy I’ve been thinking about since I left Toronto.

               He blinks down at me and eyes my dogs a bit warily and I slowly let them go.

               “Hi,” I murmur, suddenly very aware that my hair is knotted in a lopsided bun on my head, my shirt has holes in it and my jeans are barely jeans, too many rips and holes to count. Then I notice that stupid hat on his head and I know I look better than he does.

               Auston doesn’t say anything but grabs me with his free hand and pulls me to him. I meet his lips all too willingly and his mouth coaxes mine open, at least I brushed my teeth. His grabs a handful of my shirt, causing the back to creep up and expose my skin, I shiver from both the touch and the cold air that hits my bare skin. I place my hands on his stomach and marvel at the solidness of him. By the time we pull away from each other there is not a single breathe left in my body.

               “Hi,” he says against my lips and my face turns crimson.

               “You can take a lot more road trips if that’s how you’ll greet me every time,” I manage to get out, my breathing still out of control.

               Auston gives me a grin and steps into the house once I step back, my two dogs dancing in circles around him.

               “At least they like me,” Auston says, keeping the pizza above his shoulder.

               “I think it’s the pizza, bud,” I laugh and show him into the kitchen. He follows behind, his eyes roaming around my house. “I’ll show you the house later. I’m starving.”

               I grab two plates and slide them onto the counter, balancing myself on a bar stool, Auston sits next me and we dive into the boxes. I let out a groan of satisfaction and close my eyes.

               “Warm food!”

               Auston laughs beside me, “You’ve been here less than 24 hours…”

               “Seems like 24 years,” I groan again, taking another embarrassingly large bite.

               We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, I devour two pieces by the time he finishes his first and I’m already reaching into the box again.

               “How was your trip, besides the hockey part,” I ask, wiping at my face with a napkin.

               “Better now that I’m home,” Auston shrugs and I frown.

               “What do you mean?”

               “I enjoy going to different cities, but I’m always happier to come home, this time especially,” he glances at me and my face heats up again.

               “So you did miss me,” I nudge him with my foot and he rolls his eyes.

               “Don’t get a big head,” he mutters and I giggle.

               “Nah, yours is big enough for the both of us,” I reply, taking another bite and Auston raises his eyebrows at me, a smirk playing on his face. “What?” I ask through a mouthful and then the double meaning hits me like a rock and I punch at his arm. “Stop that!”

               Auston laughs and finishes his second piece. He eyes the almost empty box now. “Glad I got two.”

               I wonder if I should be embarrassed but I could not care less. “I told you I was hungry!”

               Auston laughs and down his third piece, matching me.

               “Alright, tour time,” I say, going to the sink and rinsing my hands off, drying them on a towel. “Come on,” I touch his arm and step around him.

               He follows behind me as I take him into the dining room that has a table and chairs with about twenty boxes on and around it.

               “I don’t know how I’ll ever get everything put away,” I scowl at the boxes, wishing they would unpack themselves.

               “Was there anything in the house before you came or did you bring everything?” Auston asks, his eyes darting around still.

               “Not a single thing but the barstools and big kitchen stuff, like the fridge and stove,” I run my hand along the table and lead him into the adjourning back porch room, enclosed with windows on three sides, I’m surprised it’s not very drafty. There’s another bathroom and what could be used as a bedroom aside from the living room which Auston already saw.

               I bring him upstairs and through the two spare bedrooms and a bathroom before walking into my bedroom and I automatically go to the box that I had been working on when Auston got here.

               “My room,” I say obviously and suddenly feel unbearably shy and busy myself with organizing my socks into their rightful drawer.

               Auston remains silent as he wanders around the room, half unpacked. I peek at him in the reflection of my vanity mirror, his expression unreadable and I squirm a little. He steps in front of my T.V stand, which was what I started with earlier because it was the easiest. Picking up one of the photos that I placed there just an hour earlier. I know it’s the one with my parents and Auston’s parents at my high school graduation.

               Like always, he seems to feel my stare and his eyes raise to meet mine the mirror. I give him a sad smile and look back down at my hands, trying to make myself put the socks that I’m currently holding into the drawer. They don’t listen. I’m too busy trying to keep back my tears.

               Within seconds one of Auston’s hands is on the small of my back, his face just below mine as he kneels on the floor beside my stool.

               “Hey, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he says gently and he grabs my chin, making me look at him. His eyes are soft, just like the small smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

               “I know you didn’t,” I whisper, willing the tear that’s threatening to fall free to stay right there.

               “Then why are you so sad?” He runs his thumb across my bottom lip and my lips part under his touch.

               “I just forgot that on top of being far away from my parents, I’m now an additional five hours away from Alex,” I whine and the tear finally falls. Auston is quick to wipe it away and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

               “Oh Y/N,” he says gently and gets to his feet, pulling me with him and against his chest. I don’t sob, but I do cry.

               “I’m an emotional person, okay,” I say, my voice muffled by his chest and I inhale deeply, remembering how much I missed his smell.

               “I gathered that,” Auston muses and with very little effort, he gently lifts me and he carries me to my bed. Lying me down and then sprawling out beside me. I wiggle myself back over to him, nestling into the crook of his shoulder, he rubs my back gently and I let my tears dry themselves. My eyes wander to his face and he continues staring up at my ceiling, I can see wheels turning in his brain. I take the distraction as a moment to appreciate his beauty, I look at his neck and notice a few freckles I hadn’t before, along with a small cut just under his jaw.

               My eyes travel to his mouth and the surprising fullness of his lips fascinates me. I realize I’m staring much harder than I initially thought when the corners of his mouth quirk up and my eyes flash to his, an amused look in his brown eyes. I blush and he laughs out loud this time.

               “You blush a lot,” he says and I roll my eyes, embarrassed.  

               “It’s in my genes, my mom blushes constantly too, don’t flatter yourself,” I snap at him which makes his laugh harder and the whole bed vibrates. Though for some reason he doesn’t stop laughing, most likely finding my embarrassment hilarious. I scowl at him and wait for him to quite laughing, but he doesn’t.

               “Auston…” I say after a good ten seconds.

               “Auston!” I snap again, lifting my head off his shoulder and glaring at him.

               I don’t bother saying his name a third time. Instead, I reach other and grab his chin, angling his face to mine and I cover his mouth with mine. Finally, he shuts up.

               Auston’s lips respond to mine and soon enough I’m getting a better taste of his intoxicating mouth, he tastes just like I remember; fruity with something sweet. I tell myself to pull away before this gets out of hand, but my body doesn’t respond. Instead I let him push my back into my pillows, he rolls to his side, hovering slightly over me and trailing his hand down to my hip.

               Again, I tell myself to stop it but I don’t listen. I grab a handful of his shirt and shimmy my way farther under his body. Slowly running my hand down to the waistband of his pants, I find the end of his shirt and raise my hand up underneath it, my fingers grazing his stomach. He makes a noise above me and my resolve completely breaks, I’m aching for his touch.

               “Auston,” I breathe, my lips leaving his and brushing against his jaw. “Touch me, please,” I whisper. His body goes still above me and a grin breaks out across his face.

               “What was that?” He asks and I know full well he knows exactly what I said.

               “Touch me,” I whisper again, tugging at his shirt impatiently.

               “Only took two weeks for you to ask,” he mutters, his lips finding mine again, this time much more roughly.


               I tug once again at his shirt, this time be obliges and breaks away from me for just a moment to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. Auston’s mouth then goes to my neck as I take my time exploring his skin with my hands. A moan escapes my mouth when he nips at my neck and I can’t even focus long enough to blush. Auston seems to take that as encouragement because his hand too sneaks under my shirt and up my stomach to my chest, undoing my front clasping bra faster than I would have thought possible. Oh!

               My breathing is erratic as I try to focus on anything else besides his hand moving against my bare skin. I finally get my body to respond to my wishes and I grab a handful of his hair, forcing his lips back to mine. He wastes no time and nudges my legs father apart with his knee, settling himself between them and holding his upper body up with his free arm. I raise one of my knees and rest it against his side. My hand seems to get a mind of its own and wanders back down to a place that I’ve become quite familiar with.

               “Nuh uh,” Auston scolds, taking his hand from out of under my shirt and taking my wrist instead, bringing it to his hand that’s holding most of his body weight off of me.

After making sure I couldn’t wiggle my wrist free, he turns his attention back to my mouth and his now free hand snakes its way down my side to my hip again, shifting his weight slightly so he’s against my side. I can feel him against my hip and I resist the urge to try and wiggle my hand free.

“Remember what I told you,” Auston whispers against my lips. “Payback is a bitch.”

My breath gets caught in my throat as his hand brushes against the waistband of my old, ratty jeans. I can feel his smile against my neck as I shiver with anticipation. He makes good of his word and takes his time brushing his fingers against my bare skin right above the button of my jeans and I instinctively react which makes him smile every time.

“Auston,” I whine and he finally gives in.

He quickly makes work of my button and zipper, dipping his hand down the front of my jeans and I moan, though he hasn’t even touched me yet, still intent on teasing me into oblivion.

“You suck,” I manage to get out, closing my eyes and turning my head away from him. He only laughs against my throat and inches my panties to the side. Auston seems to think that it’s now safe to let go of my hand he was holding prisoner and uses it to bend my knee up against his side again. Using this new leverage his finger brushes against me and my hips move on their own accord. After a few more teasing strokes he slowly slips a finger in.

I let out a moan at the same time he lets out a low hiss in my ear. I claw at the bed spread on either side of me as his starts a slow, rhythmic movement. I turn my head to the side, hiding my face against his chest and pulls my hair to make me look back up at him.

“Not as fun being taken advantage of in an emotional state is it?’ Auston asks me, his breath tickling my face and I refuse to answer him, only giving him the satisfaction of another small moan as he adds a second finger. My pulse hammers in my chest and I don’t understand how it doesn’t lift me out of my bed.

“Auston,” I whimper, all pride gone. I just need relief.

“What?” He asks and I don’t have to look to know there’s a smirk on his face.

“Please,” I whimper again and he roughly kisses my mouth again, pressing his thumb down as well as quicken his movements and I rocket into space. My moan is muffled by his mouth and he continues his movement until I float back down from the clouds, kissing my cheeks and jaw gently until I’m able to open my eyes again to give him a lazy smile.


“Now you really can go on road trips as much as you want as want,” I murmur up to him and he laughs.

“I don’t think I’ll be spending any more time out of Toronto than I can manage from now on,” Auston says and I grin at him. I glance at his still bare chest and grin.

“I still got more clothes off of you than you did me,” I tease.

“Yeah? Do me a favor and sit up,” Auston quirks an eyebrow down at me and I go to sit up and remember my bra.

“That doesn’t count,” I mumble, and quickly clasp it back.

“I think it does,” Auston laughs and leans down, placing a gently kiss on my lips.

I let him and then push him onto is back, climbing on top of him.

“Now that you’ve had your fun,” I breathe down at him and his eyes narrow. “It’s time…” I lean down farther, my lips at his ear. “To get to work,” I finish and bound off of him, grabbing the closest box and setting it on his lap, making him grunt.

               “I think I have my work cut out with you,” Auston says under his breath and I’m not entirely sure I was meant to hear.

Body Swap: The Fallout

So, things have been kind of crazy and I had to stop stuff to get Fracture, 29 out of my brain pan, but I was still working on this thing for @Jayseedub after we had such a nice convo >.<  It’s the continuation of this thing. Ah, it’s very angsty because I just–I wanted a knock-down-drag-out fight between these two. I want Dick just as pissed as Tim (because of than “you’re my big brother Dick, I know you’ll always come for me,” line Tim fed him in the Red Robin comic. Such a load of crap, right?). I wanted Tim screaming, and welp, I got it. (So prepare for the feel train, it’s rolling down the track).

And a new HC that really makes me feel better about the whole Dick taking the tunic thing, but you can read about it and let me know what you think ;)


A few days after the little incident, he’s settled back into his usual routine: check with his team, track any nefarious activity, do any necessary tech refreshes, and dip out to track any number of leads.

He’s on the dip out part, already suiting up and packing some supplies for an extensive trip out to start up with infiltrating an underground fighting ring he thinks might be a cover for something a hell of a lot worse when the Tower’s systems tell him someone with a passcode not Titan specific has touched-down on the roof.

The systems pops up a screen so he can watch the Javelin ease down, effectively blocking his own plane from being able to take off.

Behind the whiteouts, his eyes narrow, but he’s moving to the communal floor, giving the executive override to the elevator sliding slowly to his Perch. The re-direct is going to be better for however this little convo is going to go.

He double-checks his utility belt absently as the doors slide open.

“Titans are out,” he starts, “you’ll have to pull the JL roster instead.”

Nightwing stops dead at the lack of humor or empathy. It’s just business as fucking usual–natch. And Big Wing pauses with it, calculating the last time before the body swap incident that he’d actually seen the face, the eyes, under the mask before he was staring at it in the mirror. (Why didn’t he realize it before?)

Soft click and a whirl when central air kicks in, blowing cold on his neck and shoulders, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. From behind the whiteouts, he’s staring, eyes moving over Red’s abdomen, seeing the roadmap of scars, seeing the new scores against the good guys, seeing a whole lot of vigilante without any of the kid he used to see.

That’s the only good thing about the swap now, isn’t it?

It was impossible for Tim to duck and hide if he wasn’t even in his own body.

“I really hate the sewers under the east side, Timmy,” he comes back easily, forcing it to be Tim and Dick, not N and Red. He doesn’t feel any kind of bad, “But you knew that. You’ve known that since your were in the Robin tunic, so that was a nice way to get back at me.” Now he’s moving forward, eyes for every twitch, every breath, every aborted attempt at a pocket in the utility belt, the slight twitch of the head to indicate the eyes moving for some other escape.

But, that isn’t going to happen.

Because now he sees how things have progressed. He can pick out the shadows and old pain in the slight scar on Tim’s cheekbone and the familiar furrow of his forehead–one he’d always associated with the baddies, Tim’s planning to break shit furrow (and well, who’s getting a load of that now?)

Even if Tim’s playing leader of the Titans, playing at keeping himself above the petty fucking emotions that leave him open and vulnerable, Dick, for the first time in too long sees right past the facade.

And his lip curls up in a sneer, slow boiling anger that’s been simmering for days, one that started the moment he let himself out of Tim’s Perch in a body that was fucked with new scars and lack of crucial viscera. Once he realized Tim had been lying to him the whole time–had just been playing some sort of fucked-up role– the slow, churning betrayal turned into anger just that quick.

Tim had let himself step back and away, hadn’t trusted him enough to open his damn mouth with the Real. Fucking. Deets.

(Why did you stop talking to me?! Why didn’t you tell me it was all too much? Why did you let yourself slip through my grip? Dammit, Tim. Goddammit.)

And. It. Hurts. Hurt to know Tim pulled the deflection card on him. On. Him. (The guy that apparently lies to whoever the hell Batman is at the time).The devices they used against criminals and murderers, against megalomaniacs and psychopaths, the weapons they used to hide the meaty humanity under the capes so the baddies couldn’t break them open with it–

Their tools to stop the bad guys.

And Tim used it on him.

So when Nightwing resumes his stalk, to come face-to-face with his little bro– the leader of the Titans (and just how fucked is it that he’s pretty sure Tim doesn’t want to be called that now, well too damn bad), his hips roll in a smooth, seamless motion anyone that knew him knew meant time to get real. Just like he suspects, like he half-hoped wouldn’t happen, Tim’s fingers flicker, probably activating the gauntlets to spit something out in his palm (he’s already re-programmed himself to be on the offensive, not to fight with but to fight against).

“I think having Hood write all over my fucking back kind of makes us even,” Red Robin comes back, neutral and empty. “Besides, Croc was still in Arkham. You’re welcome.” The asshole doesn’t necessarily have to be said to be understood.

“Even?” And it’s low, dangerous. Nightwing’s movements are precise and even as he raises the whiteouts so those electric blue eyes can hyperfocus, to give complete attention. “You think we’re even, Tim?” And Dick leans down just enough to put the two of them close, “because I sure as hell don’t think so.”

And the furrow in that forehead gets deeper, sharper, almost the time to fight furrow. “I served my fucking time as Robin, I did what I set out to do, and your protege gets what he wants. It’s fine, right? The day gets saved. So what the hell is your problem?”

Oh no. Oh no he didn’t.

Dick’s upper lips curls in a sneer, “did what you set out to do? Is that how it went? You never wanted to be part of the family in the first place? You just wanted to get being Robin done and over with because it just some obligation?”

The furrow falls away from Red’s brow because what now?

“Your mom and dad were always away, so training, fighting, taking up my name was what to you? Something to keep you busy?  Were we just a damn hobby or something, Tim? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” The warm edge is bleeding through, but finally, he seems to get somewhere.

Because Tim draws back insanely fast and gives absolutely no shits about punching him right in the face.

Fuck. You!” And it’s Tim that’s yelling back at him, it’s Tim. Not Red, not the mask, not the cold shoulder.

Dick doesn’t fight it, doesn’t counter it, doesn’t come back even though he’s fairly pissed right the hell off, but he works his jaw a little (because that? Was a nice one) and straightens up to the clenched fists and bared teeth.

“You could have said that a long time ago,” Dick comes back because, no Tim, we’re not just letting it go, “that we were only some way to pass the time, not that you ever wanted us, just the fucking name. All you wanted was the R all that time? Would have been nice if you’d just said so, then I wouldn’t have gotten so invested in you–”

And he’s calculating, wondering how much more Tim can take before he breaks, before he finally spills out his weakness (reads as: the truth).

“I-I fucking bled for that cape, you asshole. I almost died time and fucking time again for that cape. My dad, my fucking dad, Dick,” and the hitch is still there, the utter agony, “…all-all because I was Robin. I kept Bruce on the straight and narrow as much as he let me. And what the fuck did it all mean?! What the fuck did it get me?! Thrown out on my ass? Told I was crazy? That I just had to accept it when Bruce was “dead?” How many superheroes get another chance? Like Jason-Mother-Fucking-Todd?! How farfetched is it really?”

And Dick lets him spit it out, the warming anger burning away the icy calm of Red (reads as the other Robin) to reveal slivers of Tim Drake–the teenager in pain.

That’s the face he wants to see again, his partner and friend, Timmy. Because Dick gets the vigilante now, after mapping the journey from losing the cape until now, tracking the baddies, tracking the trail to find Batman, seeing what kind of things “Robin couldn’t do,” all of it justified who and what Red Robin is. But Tim? The young, damaged kid under the mask is the one Dick needs to help, needs to see, needs to understand. And, no, he isn’t leaving until they hash this out. So, tough, Timmy. I’ve got you now.

“You couldn’t even look me in the face,” is almost screamed at him, Tim refusing to back the hell down, his hands shaking with the poison pouring out, all the mistakes and misunderstandings, all the strain and stress, the hard decisions and unavoidable repercussions. He fully intends to give back in spades. “You threw some bullshit about being equals and gave another kid my name. It wasn’t yours then. I made it mine. It’s all I had left, the only thing I had left of Bruce, and you gave it the fuck away like I meant nothing. Like I was garbage. I had nothing else left.

But Dick moves, gripping his biceps in an unforgiving hold and already ducking a hand under Tim’s defenses to rip off the domino, to look at him, not the whiteouts.

Snarling and ferocious, wet eyes and bared teeth, seeing what happened, what those tough choices did to him, to them makes Dick’s jaw clench down and his chest fucking ache.

“You idiot. You had me. Dammit, Tim, you’ve always had me. I thought you knew that. I thought after everything, everything we’d been through, in the five years we bled together, you’d always know I’m here for you. I’m here for you no matter what. No matter what happens, or how far you go, you always have me.”

The younger vigilante in his hold, the one fighting against his grip like a bleeding, dying animal is snarling and growling in such fucking pain (and he’d missed it, missed how much he hurt Tim, how much damage they’ve done to one another without really trying).

He grips harder, not letting Tim pull away this time, not letting him hide behind Red.

“Robin is just a fake name, Tim. Dammit, Robin isn’t, was never, who you are. Didn’t you figure that out in the damn desert?” And he bares his teeth as well, shaking the younger vigilante just so he doesn’t give him nuclear noogies and months of endless cuddles. Just how could Tim be such a dumb ass not to have known? Not to have called? Not to have just said something?

Was the trust between them broken that badly? Why the hell had Dick even believed him when he said he knew Dick would always catch him? Why hadn’t he seen through the bullshit back then?

Tim’s nose is turning red, his watery eyes narrowed, every muscle tensed up for the fight or flight instinct to kick in. Dick doesn’t give him the chance. Even if he is still supremely pissed, he pulls Tim hard into his chest, wraps both arms around him tight, trapping him at the waist and shoulders, a hand on his neck, waiting for the right time to slide into his hair. It’s how Tim used to need it after a hard night, a bad run of it, and Dick is shameless in using it to his every advantage. He puts his cheek down on the top the crown of too-long hair and breathes against Tim’s ear, “You have it wrong. I didn’t think you were crazy. You weren’t talking to anyone long before Bruce disappeared. You were pulling back, pulling away, and I couldn’t help you. You wouldn’t let me help you, Timmy. You had a gun, and I know you had it in your hand the night I happened to call and check on you. I always knew.”

And the body he can’t let go of is shuddering harder in his arms at the reveal, that Dick had always known what the third Robin was ready to do, how far gone he had almost been. If Dick Grayson hadn’t called him that night, forced him to keep talking, pretty much kicked the door in to the shitty apartment in the ‘Haven with the phone still up to his ear. If Dick had just hung up the phone.

Well, they wouldn’t be here now, would they?

“I didn’t know what else to do. Dammit, being Robin was killing you and you couldn’t even see it.”

Frozen for long moments, Tim blinks rapidly against his watery vision at the plain cream wall over Dick’s shoulder because well, that changes things just a little, doesn’t it?

(Was it? Was the tunic really killing him back then? He made bad calls after Dad, after everyone– but-but…the .45 auto was the most solid thing he’d held for a while).

“Dr. Erin O’Malley is a therapist known in our circles. How do you think Roy kicked the habit? And who Ollie saw when he came back from his soul-searching thing? Barry told her about his mom, for heaven’s sake, Timmy! She knows J’onn isn’t from around here, and Kara has big brother issues with Clark. After Blockbuster and-and Tarantula, she helped me too. Hell, the majority of her clientele are superheroes, and that’s why I called her. I was getting desperate for you to talk to someone, anyone before you did something.” And the fear might be old and dusty, but Dick’s tone gets thin with it anyway, the ‘he’s going to kill himself’ vibe crawling down his spine, that made him chase after Tim right after he left the Cave, ready to leave Gotham behind to go on his quest to find Bruce.

He feels Tim’s chest stutter against his, feels how hard Tim is biting down on his lower lip to keep the half-sob in.  The harness is digging into the thin Kevlar lining of the Nightwing suit, and he makes an irritated noise, pulling one arm away just long enough to deactivate the thing and toss it on one of the couches without really letting Tim escape.

“The not telling you about Dami taking up the mantle was wrong, and I am such an asshole for it. I’m sorry, Tim. I’m so sorry.”

He feels the tremble go through Tim’s whole body at the admission. He feels how the younger vigilante tries to ruthlessly squash what he believes is an obvious weakness by trying to pull back again, shoving his palms against Dick’s chest to get leverage. Dick just sweeps his arms by his sides and wraps himself around Tim like a blanket, walking them backwards a few feet to press Tim against the wall so he’s less likely to escape.

“I am sorry how it all happened, but I don’t regret making you move on. Someone had to break you out of the spiral before it killed you, and as much as it sucks and I hated it, it still worked. The stuff with Ra’s? We are eventually going to talk about because you, you should have called me dammit. How fast do you think I would have torn the Cradle apart looking for you? Faster than Clark when Lois is in some kind of peril. Honestly, when have I ever left you when you called? Especially when you magically lose a spleen?!”

And all the facts, all the digging, all the new information makes him clench his jaw with how much he didn’t even know, the muscle jumping against Tim’s temple and his arms unconsciously tighten even more, absorbing the progressive tremble of limbs and chest, of forced, slow breathing, and the attempt to keep control.

“I’m so pissed off right now, Tim. So. Pissed, but I’m not letting you go. Hell. No. Not this time, do you understand me?

“Go to hell,” but the tone is thick and wet, the struggle renews with vigour, “like you have any reason to be pissed? You had no problem when that little asshole made sure I knew I was just a fucking stand-in.”

“Dami was an asshole to everyone–” he starts to placate, but pauses when he remembers the acidic tone, the honesty in Dami’s tone when he was the one wearing Tim’s face.

Maybe he’d underestimated how much Dami had an impact back then–

Obviously he has since Tim find the weakness in his hold, grips his wrist, turns on his heel fast, and throws him in a familiar move.

But since Dick was Robin, was Batman, is Nightwing, he rebounds off the wall and comes back for it, missing Tim by a miniscule margin when the younger folds his knees at just the right second.

Dick lands it on the Communal Floor’s kitchen, landing crouched on top the island without even a wobble, and stares Tim down with a frown marring his features.

“I didn’t know it was that bad, Tim. I didn’t know–”

“Of course you didn’t,” with scathing heat behind it. “It’s not like you’d want to hear anything against your fucking Robin now would you?” And all that tightly wound anger, all that pent-up pain is so obvious in the way Tim refuses to advance, refuses to let his voice raise again.

“Tim, I swear, at the time–”

“But you got what you wanted, didn’t you, Dick?” Is all dangerous now, low and pitched, the flash of Tim’s teeth in the overhead lights, “you got the Robin you wanted, the Robin that was fucking blood. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d paid enough to attention to know he cut my fucking zip line, or he’s the one that took me out of the Cave’s mainframe like I was a stain on the tunic. Even if you knew all of that at the time, what would it have really mattered? I was just the stand-in from the first time you wore the cowl, and I get it now.”

No,” Dick snarls, leaping off the island in a smooth flow of muscle and power, countering Tim’s duck and dodge, forcing the leader of the Titans back against the wall again, “that isn’t true. That was never true,” and his voice has gone deep, dark, eyes narrowed outlined by the domino, “you were always my partner, just as much as Bruce was, so were you.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me now–” Tim comes back, his voice half-hoarse from yelling, screaming, his whole body clenched tight, “if I would have know that truth, it would have been easier from the start. Bruce didn’t hide it from me, Dick. You did!”

And that little bomb drop? Oh Bruce is going to hear about this.

Later when there would be audio and vid. Then the Batman could have his own time to address this obviously gross oversight.

For now, though, he’s going to make a hell of a lot of things very clear.

“In the beginning, I didn’t want a twelve-year old getting involved. You’re right about that. I didn’t want you to take up the tunic and neither did Bruce, so you are one hundred percent right. In the beginning, Tim, we didn’t want you.”

And just the facial ticks, the tightening of a gloved fist, the tells Tim had apparently tried so hard to train out of himself since he’d been Red, give Dick so much more than he had before– realizing how long this had been something at the back of Tim’s brain pan.

“It would be too easy for your to get hurt, for you to die. You had a dad who would mourn you, Tim. You still had family. You still had things to lose Bruce and Jason and I never did, so no, we didn’t want you risking your life for our Mission.”

Clenching jaw, eyes getting wet again, but Dick watches Tim flutter his eyes to hold back. Not there yet, not there yet.

“But in the first year, you proved how smart and capable you are. You didn’t back down, you didn’t give in or give up. You wore that tunic like it was the only thing that mattered. You gave the role of Robin more than I did at that age or Jason did. You made Robin a force to be reckoned with, and you made us, me and Bruce, so fucking proud. So proud you stood by us and just kept on fighting. You became our family, Tim, my brother and Bruce’s son. Blood didn’t matter, it never mattered. Not then and not now. Despite all of it, you’re still and always will be my little brother and nothing, nothing is going to change that.” A little fact: he is going to pound into Dami’s skull because some little birds need to realize, the first Robin was never blood either. The ‘true son’ is going to get one hell of a lesson when he gets back to Gotham.

But for right now, for right now, Tim’s eyes are wet and blown wide in surprise, his hands and arms half-poised, frozen in shock but for the small, almost imperceptible trembling (Oh, God, Tim, how long have you felt like this? How long have you believed–?). When Tim drags in a breath, lets out a broken, choked, noise, Dick is right up in his space, gripping and holding hard by the time his eyes spill over.

It a horrible and wonderful thing at the same time, when Tim’s shaky hands come up under his arms, around his back, and grips his shoulders tight enough that the bruises are going to be epic. When Tim’s face is hidden in the side of his neck, and he can feel the tears sliding down his skin to the suit, knows the younger vigilante is still trying to fight it instead of just letting go.

Dick turns his face enough to bury his nose in the too-long hair and close his own hot eyes tight because he missed this. Missed this too much to bear.

His tone is gruff and wobbly, his hold inescapable when he finally comes out with it, “we… We may not have wanted you in the beginning, Tim but we sure as hell did in no time at all. Geeze, you’re an idiot. I mean, who wouldn’t want you? Even immortal megalomaniacs want a piece of that.”

Half-laughing and half-sobbing, Tim’s muscles try to contract, try to make himself smaller in such a familiar move that Dick blinks fast but still manages to get a few wet drips in Tim’s hair. He gives absolutely zero shits about it and manages to reach down and get an arm under Tim’s knees to lift him up high against Dick’s chest, takes them both to one of the couches on the communal floor where he can sit with Tim in his lap and hold on for as long as he can.

sherlollyandspoilers  asked:

Sherlolly and rain for the prompt thing.

“I hate you!” Molly screamed, tears streaming down her face. She tore out of the flat, down the stairs and out into the rain. 

Sherlock felt quite sick to his stomach. He’d been dreading Molly’s homecoming all day. Toby had escaped, and it was entirely Sherlock’s fault. The cat had done what he’d usually done, and gotten into Sherlock’s laboratory (the flat below) and ruined a very precarious experiment that Sherlock had been working on for seven months. Anger getting the better of him, he’d booted the cat out into the rain while he cleaned up the mess left in the cat’s wake. It took him all of two minutes to realize his horrendous mistake, the weather outside, and his wife’s reaction to what he’d done. 

He’d tramped up and down Baker Street, calling for the cat to no avail. Now Molly was following suit, hours later. Sherlock didn’t need to do the math to figure out that Toby was, in all probability, dead. He’d been a country cat, and then a strictly indoor cat when Molly moved to London. He was old and partially deaf. He’d been with Molly through the hardest years of her life: namely her father dying, her years at university, Sherlock’s faked death, his banishment, his substance abuse and a good deal more. 

Hurrying out into the elements after Molly, Sherlock followed the sound of her voice. 

She was in an alley, bending low, rattling boxes, shouting for the cat. The alley was a dead-end, more crates were piled up at the rear. 

“Where are you, you stupid cat?” Molly sobbed. She turned, seeing Sherlock face awash with fear and tears. 

Suddenly, there was a strangled ‘mew’. She whirled around, searching. Another ‘mew’, and she knelt, seeing a crevice between two stacks of crates. She wedged herself in, ignoring the painful scrape against her shoulders, fingers striving for the scruff of Toby’s neck. She must have grasped him, for her face alighted with joy and relief. Tucking the cat into her unbuttoned coat, she cradled him to her breast, kissing his soaking wet fur. Wordlessly, she moved past Sherlock and into the entryway. 

He followed, shutting and locking the door behind them. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, keeping his distance, unsure of the mother bear standing before him. She took a towel from the bench seat, carefully drying off Toby. 

“I’m sorry he wrecked all your work,” she said at last, and when she met his gaze, he could see the honesty in her words. 

“My actions were still inexcusable.” 

“They were,” she affirmed. “But not unforgivable.” 

“Let me take him, please?” he offered. “My things are dryer than yours.” She gently handed Toby to him then, stepping close to transfer the cat into his waiting arms. She watched for a moment as Sherlock gently dried the cat off, who was already purring in Sherlock’s arms, beginning to clean himself. 

Sherlock carefully changed into a fresh robe, transferring the damp towel for the cat’s favorite blanket, and sat on the couch. 

He kept his eyes on the cat in his lap for a long time, quite touched at the cat’s immediate ease in his arms despite Sherlock’s cruel treatment only hours ago. Toby held no ill-will, merely happy to be home again. 

Molly appeared in Sherlock’s line of sight, and he looked up, she held out a cup to him and he took it, thanking her. She bent, kissing him gently. 


Curling up beside him, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Is there anything else I can do to make things right?” He already had her forgiveness, but the question still begged asking. 

Molly was quiet for a moment. He turned his head so he could see her face, just in time to see her smile. 

“I wouldn’t mind having a look at the shelter tomorrow. If Toby had a playmate or two, he might not get into mischief in your lab.”

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. There was logic in her thinking. The only reason Toby was in his lab to begin with was because the cat yowled if the door was shut. Toby liked companionship, so Sherlock tried to be accessible on his days at home. 

“I think that could be arranged,” Sherlock agreed. 

Molly smiled and curled up closer to him, reaching forward to stroke Toby’s slightly-damp fur. 

“I don’t hate you, by the way,” she said suddenly, very quiet, ashamed. 

Sherlock fell silent, pondering her words. 

“We both said or did something we didn’t mean,” he answered slowly. “Let’s leave it at that.” 

She leaned forward, kissing him once more and he reciprocated. “Agreed.”

Roman-Fleuve (M)

Originally posted by peruni

» xiumin x reader
» 2.8k
» kim minseok smut with lots of body worship
» warning: smut

“What was that, sorry?” you asked, realising that you’d yet again zoned out whilst listening to Minseok talking. He simply chuckled, laughing off the moment and sweeping his fingertips over the curve of your cheek.

Minseok had the kind of face – and body – that one could just stare at every day of their lives and never get bored. You could look into his eyes for hours upon end but each time you blinked there’d be something new capturing your attention. It was just the kind of person Minseok was, whether it be when he was talking, sleeping or just sitting, people were always interested in him.

“It doesn’t matter. I was just saying how I missed spending time with you.”

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