i told my littlest brother and he was like 'where do they get it from'

how to do the most you can with what you have when what you have is nothing by fauchevalent

“Rough day?”

She gives a wet laugh.

“You could say that, yeah.”

or - a runaway bride au.

He’s driving past the water tower when he sees her, all lace and taffeta hiked up around her knees and a veil tossed beside her in the grass.
Percy has the fleeting thought that she might actually want to be left alone, but then her thumb flicks into the air and he pulls over. He doesn’t usually pick up hitchhikers - especially not ones with such clear emotional baggage - but hey, there’s a first time for everything, right? Or at least, that’s what he tells himself as she climbs into his passenger seat, veil still discarded on the ground, and offers him a gentle smile.


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“Class Clown” Part 3

Hey, I’ve gotten a lot of good feedback and requests for part three, so here I am, in the middle of nowhere with bad service, typing this on mobile. I hope this isn’t crap, please excuse the sloppiness in this. I’ll re blog part 2 which has a link to part 1 If you want to catch up. Thank you for all the support as well, xx

Summery: The class clown, Taehyung, has a lot more going on at home than anybody else realizes, especially not you, the class valedictorian.

Taehyung x Reader

Fluff, angst (mentions of abuse, alcoholism, etc.)

Don’t forget to send in feedback and requests for new stories and reactions about any of the boys!

Your POV:

You stare at Jin across the room the next day, but feel nothing. After 4 years of feeling butterflies when he so much as blinked in your direction, you feel nothing as you stare into the face of this boy. He turns his head suddenly, and holds eye contact with you, you keep staring before you realize what’s happening and you gasp quietly and blush looking away, earning a small smile from Jin. Even now, as Jin laughs at your embarrassment, you feel more cringey than hopelessly romantic. If anything you wish it were V who caught you staring. Speaking of which, he’s still not in class. You check your phone, 8:56, you think, class started 11 minutes ago. You send V a quick text, wondering where he is.

To V: Hey, class started 11 minutes ago, why aren’t you here?

He was fine last time you saw him. You smile, remembering the last time you saw him. His big, dark eyes twinkling with mischief, and adoration even. His big boxy smile blinding you. His dark hair flopping upside down as he lay on his back, staring up at you. Where is this kid?!

Last Night (Tae’s POV)

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! My mind races with questions and my heart is practically pounding out of my chest. I just walked back in from my date with Y/N when I’d tripped over Jungkook’s bloodied body on the floor. There was no sign of dad, so he either left as soon as he realized what he had done, or Kookie was attacked by a burglar. I was going to go with number one. I rolled him onto his back, and stared into his face. His sweet, innocent face was distorted by a broken nose, and a busted lip. Blood caked his face and drip down onto his neck and clothes, and his left eye was swollen shut. What kind of monster could do this to you Kook?! He was still breathing, which was my first concern. If I lost Kookie too, I think I would’ve gone off the deep end. Even at the thought of it, my eyes fill with tears and I bite them back as I think of what to do. I’ve taken a few bad hits like this, but usually I’m back up within 5-10 minutes. From the looks of this, he seems to have been here for about an hour. I get up and grab a cold, wet washcloth and start to dab his face, cleaning his injuries and ridding his face of the blood. I’ve shaken him, and called his name, even slapping around his face a bit. Nothing. Do I call 911?! Do I get the neighbors?! Oh god, oh god, oh god…

Your POV

As class went on, no reply from V. Radio silence from the boy you started to catch feelings for. You were so busy worrying about V, you didn’t see Jin staring at you the entire hour. As class let out, you grabbed your bags and started to head out the door when you feel a firm hand grab onto your arm and pull you back. You turn around to see Jin standing there, a shy smile on his face.

“Hey, Y/N, I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna, uh, go out Friday night?” Jin smiled at you, taking his hand off of your arm. You’d been waiting for this moment for 4 years. You’d fantasized about this happening time and time again. Your first thought is to yell ‘YES!’ but you don’t. After 4 years of never speaking to you, why now? And what about V? You decide to take the diplomatic route.

“I would love to, but I’ll have to check my schedule. I’ll get back to you on this tomorrow.” You smile and turn, walking away. After a high school career of getting no action, you suddenly have two boys sparring for your heart?

Last Night (Tae’s POV)

I pour icy water on his face, which jerks him back to reality. By this point, we were nearing on hour 2, and I was a hysterical mess. I went to call 911, but I was coughing and sniffling so much I couldn’t get a word out. Kookie coughs and starts to groan and I let out a strangled laugh and hug him close against me.

“What-” I cough, “Happened?!” Kookie takes a moment to get his bearings and he weakly leans against my body. After he takes a breather, he looks up at me shakily.

“Dad wanted to know where you were and I said I didn’t know and it just spiraled out of control from there.” He looks around, seeming like a small boy in my arms. He’s only 15, he doesn’t deserve this. What kind of brother am I? Letting us stay in this hellhole. I’m sure you you’re wondering why we still are even here when we could’ve gotten help long ago? Because Jungkook loves him. Because Kookie still believes in our dad. When we were in middle school, and it just started, I suggested we tell somebody, but he said no. He told me that dad was just struggling with the loss of our mom, and that we needed to be there for him. I think he’s just scared to lose what little family we have left. I don’t know where I need to draw the line though…is this where I just step in and get us help? “How do you feel?” I ask, holding him tight, afraid to let go. “I just..Get me in bed and get me some pain meds. I can sleep it off.” I carry Jungkook to his bed and lay him in gently, and bring him some pain meds after. I stay and watch him sleep for a few minutes before I quietly turn off his alarm clock and head to the front door, locking it. Nobody is getting in tonight, and nobody is going out tomorrow morning. Not if I can help it.

(Today) Tae’s POV

I wake up at 11:18am to hear silence in the house. I almost forget that it’s Thursday and not Saturday. I sit up on the edge of my bed and run my hand through my hair and rub my hands along my sweatpants. I can hear my phone chiming, but I need to check on Jungkook. I walk out into the living room and see the door still locked, meaning dad didn’t even try and come in. I peek into Kookie’s room and see him peacefully asleep on his bed, hugging a pillow against his chest. I smile a little at the sight, and I almost feel like a proud parent. Seeing this boy I helped raise growing up. I close the door gingerly and step into the kitchen to make breakfast when I hear my phone go off again and I pick it up and smile seeing Y/N’s name pop up all over my notifications. I click on our messages and scroll through them.

From: Y/N

Hey, class started 11 minutes ago, why aren’t you here?

V where are you?

V??? ??????

Ugh fine, ignore me Jin asked me out on a date

The last one makes me blanch. Of course I feel bad and kinda flattered Y/N was worried about me, but Jin?! He’s my best friend! He’s known I’ve liked her for a year now, and he’s legit never cared! What’s his deal?! He gets every single girl, why can’t I have one? He’s the dream guy for girls, he’s tall, strong, handsome, athletic, kind, and smart. I’m kinda attractive, and nice, and that’s it. I thought I finally had done it, and gotten the girl of my dreams but I guess even she would rather have Jin than me. I don’t know what to say honestly, I just want to see that look in her eyes again. When she told me how she felt, a small blush crept into her cheeks, and she had a sentimental, and shy shine in her eyes. She does the littlest things and it drives me crazy with desire. She’s so…her. And that’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I wait a moment to collect my thoughts before I text back.

To: Y/N

What did you say?

I check the time stamps on them, and see that they’re from several hours ago, meaning anything could’ve happened by now. I stare down at the message, reading and rereading it. Jin. I decide not to text him, I’m not really the confrontational type since I can get all the confrontations I’d ever want in my very own living room. If she goes for him, I’ll talk it out with him whenever I see him again, if not, I’ll let it go and pretend it didn’t happen. I’m jolted from my musings as a text from Y/N comes in, and I read it from my notifications before texting back.

From Y/N: I said I’d have to see if I was busy that day.

Okay, vague. What’s that even mean? Is she?

To Y/N: Are you?

I wait until it says read and I see her typing. My heart pounds and I bite my lip. What if she doesn’t want me? Of course she wouldn’t, Y/N has such high standards. She deserves the world, and I can’t give her crap. I should’ve known it was too good to be true.

From Y/N:

Depends. Are you busy Friday?

I feel a smile slip onto my face. I type yes in and start to brainstorm our perfect date when a cough from the other room disturbs me. Jungkook. What do I do about him? Can I trust Y/N with this? She’s smart so she probably knows what to do. Agh. Okay. I click out of our message and go to Jungkook’s best friend Jimin’s number and ask him if Kookie can sleepover Friday. I want to make sure he’s out of the way and taken care of since I won’t be at he house to watch over him. Jimin is such a good friend. Kookie hasn’t told him about how he gets hurt, but Jimin knows, and he takes care of him. Jimin is like my Jin, except Jimin wouldn’t double cross Kookie like Jin did to me. Your POV:

Okay, so V texted back. He didn’t explain where he’s at, he just skipped right to the Jin situation, which makes you feel good to know he cares that much. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to go out with Jin. He runs in the most popular crowd in school with V and Namjoon and Hoseok and Yoongi. What would this mean for you? You were never super popular, just liked enough nobody bugged you and left you and Amari alone to be Valedictorian. You ran with a quieter crowd of dedicated kids like you, so would that change? Would they still respect you? You’d liked Jin for years, would one date hurt? Just as you start to consider it V replies.

From V:

No I’m not busy. If you’d have me, I’d like to take you out Friday night. We could go ice skating at that outdoor rink downtown, then go see a drive in movie. I’d have you home by 11:30-12 at the latest and pick you up at 5:30.

You suddenly forget Jin. V was so thoughtful and respectful, you expected a “no I’m not busy, why” kind of reply. But this went above and beyond. This was like those dream dates from the movies. You don’t even realize you’re smiling until Jin points it out.

“What’re you smiling about cutie?” Jin is suddenly beside your table smiling down at you. Why he’s paying so much attention to you now, you don’t know. But as you look up at him, you don’t see the same sincerity in his eyes that V has. Jin was fake, and you knew it all along, but he seemed so perfect you couldn’t help but dream.

“Ah just a funny text. And about Friday I’m sorry, I’m busy. Thanks though.” You smile politely and really kinda want him to just go away so you can show Amari all of this. Jin’s eyes harden and his lips press tightly together for a moment before he’s back to that fake dazzling smile.

“No prob. Some other time.” Jin smiles walking away and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. That look in Jin’s eyes was honestly kind of scary. As you watch Jin saunter off you remember to text V back.

Tae’s POV:

From Y/N:

It’s a date.

The words pop up on my screen. Those three words. I feel a smile grow on my face and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I lay back on the bed and smile closing my eyes and imagine the date. Us, holding hands as we skate, Y/N smiling, And helping hold me up because I can’t skate to save my life, then us at the drive in movie. Maybe cuddling together if she’d be okay with that.

"You’re texting Y/N,” Jungkook says, smiling and standing in the doorway. I sit up and set my phone down looking at the boy. His nose his bandaged up and seems to be holding up pretty well, his eye is super swollen, and his lip is still swollen red. He will definitely be staying home again tomorrow. I check the clock, seeing he slept in until 11:30, which was a good 14 hours.

"How do you feel?” I ask and pull him to the kitchen to get him some pain meds and breakfast.

"Achey. But fine. Now back to Y/N,” Kookie smiles winking with his good eye and leans against the counter. I can’t help but smile at him, even through all this all he can think about his getting the gossip from my life.

"Well we’re going on a date Friday, and you’re sleeping over at Jimin’s.” I say, pouring him a bowl of cereal.

"Today is Wednesday right?” Kookie pulls out the milk and pours it in sitting at the counter and eating. I nod and put the food away and slide him some pain meds.

"What’re you gonna do?” He asks through a mouthful of cereal.

"I was going to take her ice skating and then maybe use Jin’s truck and go to the drive in.” I say and feel a nervous pang as I say Jin’s name. He’s always been a good friend, but when he’s mad he’s scary. I just hope he’ll be chilled out about this.

"Dude you can’t skate at all,” Jungkook grins at me and I grin eating my own cereal.

"I know, an ice skating date seems like every girl’s cliche dream date I thought it would make her happy.”

"Man you really like her.” He grins finishing his food. We stay home on Thursday, still no sign of dad. I go back on Friday and leave Kookie home, but tell him to text me if anything happens. As soon as I walk into 1st period, my eyes go right to Y/N. She doesn’t see me, she’s too busy talking to Amari. I forgot how much I missed her until she was right in front of me. Her smile, the way she sits, hearing her laugh, just watching her be herself.

"KING V IS BACK!” Jin bellows walking in and people grin and laugh, and even I can’t help grinning.

"Hopefully nobody dethroned me in my absence,” I grin, earning a chuckle from my peers. I can feel Y/N’s eyes on me, and I turn my head back and grin at her and wink. I can see her blush a little, and I grin even bigger as her smile grows. Jin drags me down to our usual table with Yoongi and Hoseok.

"So where were you?” Yoongi asks in his usual carefree voice, but I can see his real interest is in Amari as he stares across the room at her.

"I got sick,” I say running a hand through my hair and lean back in my chair the way teachers hate. At my sick comment, Jin rolls his eyes and casts me a knowing look since he’s guessed already what really happened.

"You better not get me sick you afflicted beast!” Hoseok throws a paper wad at my face and laughs.

Your POV:

You watch V as he grins and laughs with his friends, occasionally turning to smile at you. He’s such a good guy. He’s just so pure. As you go to leave the room V jogs up to your side and hooks arms with you grinning.

"Excited for tonight?” He grins and pulls you over to the lockers leaning against them and unhooking your arms as he faces you.

“Yeah. 5:30 right?” You smile, falling into his warm gaze.

“Precisely. They’re playing an old Audrey Hepburn movie at the drive in tonight, is that okay?” V grins and pushes a lock of hair behind your ear, sending chills down your arms.

“Yeah, I love classics.” You say and glance at the clock. “V you need to get to class, you’ll be late.” You grab his hands pulling him off the lockers and gently push him in the direction of his next class. He smiles winking and saunters up the stairs. You turn around to walk to class in the early empty hallway when you crash into Jin’s chest.

“So that’s the reason you’re too busy for me?”

Thank you guys for your support! I’m sorry if this part seemed rushed, and not as quality, I’m on mobile and trying to figure out how to type this all and stuff and I hope I didn’t let you down! Don’t forget to leave more feedback if you want a part 4!

okay, where the frick did this new narrative come from that claims only women are ever misdiagnosed or ignored at the doctor bc it’s bullshit.

My brother, at thirteen, had a tachycardia episode that got him taken to the ER, and the doctor on duty insisted he was on drugs. When my mom and I said he wasn’t, he said we wouldn’t be expected to know. When the test came back negative, he was disappointed and sent us home and told us to Follow-Up With Our Primary Care Professional™.

This same brother also had Kawasaki syndrome as a small child, which can do permanent heart damage. The doctors said it was just a flu.

My littlest brother is sensitive to loud noises and gets headaches from it like I do. When he cried through a concert, a bunch of concerned mothers insisted he had sensory processing issues and should be in therapy.

Little boys are misdiagnosed with behavioral disorders all the time literally just for being like little boys are.

No, awful doctoring is not gender-specific. Get a life and a narrative that holds water.

Jealousy Pt. 4


Robb watched as Arya got into a fight with one of Aegon Targaryen’s men. He couldn’t hear what the two had been talking about, so he didn’t know what had started the fight, though he had a fairly good idea. All Robb knew was that Arya had thrown the first punch. Now she was rolling around on the ground, straddling the man and landing punches where she could. At first, the man didn’t seem to want to hit her back and settled on defending himself, but when Arya hit his nose so hard it started bleeding, the man’s face contorted in rage, and he lashed out.

When the fight had first begun, Robb had been amused. But then he’d met his lady mother’s eyes, and she had mouthed at him desperately to go intervene.

Robb was halfway across the hall when another figure was swiftly accosting Arya. The next moment Gendry was clutching a struggling Arya in his arms while the man cursed at her from where he lay sprawled on the ground, blood pulsing from his now crooked nose.

One cold, threatening look from Gendry later, the man shut up, though he continued glaring daggers Arya’s way. Gendry half-dragged, half-carried Arya away and back toward the high table, toward Robb. She was still struggling, even against Gendry’s arms.

“He was calling you a bastard and a liar and a craven,” Arya snarled over her shoulder at Gendry as they neared Robb.

“Who cares? He’s just sore because I beat him and his little friends in the practice yard.” Gendry tried to reassure her.

As they approached him, Robb grinned. “You gave him a good beating, little sister. Best hope it doesn’t reach the prince’s ears. He won’t be happy to hear you bloodied one of his men.”

Arya’s eyes flashed. “Best hope he doesn’t reach me or he’s next.” Arya snapped. “He’s the one going around telling everyone Gendry didn’t really fight in the war. And he’s saying all Gendry did back then was dishonor me.”

Robb’s cheeks pinked at the implication about his sister, but it was Gendry who responded.

“He’s another one who’s just sore ‘cause he lost to me.” Gendry chuckled to the girl half gathered in his arms. Robb knew he wasn’t referring to the practice yard either.

Robb fell into step with the smith as they headed toward the high table and away from the ruckus.

“Put me down,” Arya finally stopped struggling and just grasped at Gendry’s hands wrapped tight around her middle.

Gendry stopped there in the middle of the hall then. “Only if you promise not to go back and finish him off.” Gendry’s voice was firm, though it hid a laugh.

Arya glared over her shoulder at him. “You’re right,” she finally relented, “he’s not worth it.”

Gendry relaxed his arms around Robb’s little sister, and she slid down to her feet, still leaning against the smith.

“You don’t believe anything they’re saying, do you?” Gendry was leaning down to murmur into her ear.

Arya spun around and punched the smith so hard in the shoulder that he flinched. “Of course not, you stupid!”

“Arya,” Robb warned. “Mother is watching.”

Gendry had caught Arya’s wrists in one hand. “Then what does it matter what they say? As long as you know what’s true.”

Arya groaned in frustration. Heeding Robb’s words, her eyes on the high table, she let her arms drop.

Robb turned to see Catelyn staring sternly at Arya. Catelyn’s eyes met Robb’s. She jerked her head towards Arya, and Robb knew his mother wanted him to escort Arya away before she got into more trouble. When Robb turned back to do so, however, the smith was, as always, ten steps ahead. He had Arya’s elbow in one hand and was leading her out of the hall.

Another pang of impatience colored Robb’s insides. Robb was glad the smith had been close at hand to stop Arya fighting, especially before the other man had managed to retaliate in kind, but he also felt a pinprick of irritation. He’d been on his way to carry his sister off and would have gotten there in enough time. He hadn’t needed Gendry’s interference. Robb shrugged the feeling away. It was good Gendry had been there.

The smith usually was though, before anyone else. Just the week before, Arya had climbed halfway up the broken tower to rescue an injured crow that perched on a broken brick that jutted out and away from the tower. Robb had run with a long rope, up to the castle parapet and along it until he came to the broken tower. He had planned to drop the rope to her so she could tie it around her waist in case she fell. When Robb had gotten to the tower window, the smith had already climbed the tower behind Arya. Gendry had held the injured bird delicately in one hand and climbed down slowly below Arya to catch her in case she fell.

Another time, Arya had gotten into a fist fight with Elmar Frey, one of the hostages that Robb’s lord father Eddard had demanded of the Freys for the assurance that they would not rise against the throne. The man was larger than her and managed to throw in a few good punches that left Arya bruised. Then Gendry had been there, had tugged Arya away from the fray before replacing her fists with his own. Aegon’s man today had only been lucky because he hadn’t had the time to hit Arya back. The Frey boy had been bedridden for weeks. Robb’s father had forgiven the infraction only because Gendry had been coming to Arya’s defense, as much as Arya insisted she hadn’t needed the help.

To put it mildly, when it came to his littlest sister, Robb felt misplaced these days. Ever since she’d finally come back. The Starks had all been so happy to see her, the last of them missing. Arya was alive. That was enough. No one wanted to make her do anything she didn’t want to do lest she run away or disappear again somehow. Be a lady. Be polite, even. Wear a dress. No one made her stay away from the smith either. Soon, before they realized what that really meant, it was too late. Now, Gendry went wherever Arya went, and she didn’t need her big brothers anymore. Like the rest of them, Robb had been surprised that, out of all the Starks, Arya had been the one to come away from the war with a true match.

The next morning, Robb rode out with Gendry, Arya and Rickon, along with a handful of his lord father’s guard, to the wolfswood to ride and hunt. Ned Dayne and Aegon insisted on tagging along. Despite Arya’s obvious proclamation of a choice of suitor on her name day, along with his brother’s legitimization of Gendry, Dayne and the prince both did not seem to be getting the hint. At least not enough to stop pursuing his sister.

Gendry and Rickon led the column side-by-side, followed by Robb and Arya, the rest of them trailing behind. Arya wore her brand new sword, from Gendry, proudly on her hip. Her name day gift from Robb, the bow and arrows, she wore slung over her shoulder.

To Dayne’s obvious pleasure, Arya rode her new sand steed; from where he rode behind them in the column, the boy kept reminding Arya of her promise to race him on the horse.

“A sand steed,” Aegon snorted. “I’ll bet you a hundred gold dragons my courser can beat yours at any race.” The prince challenged the Dayne boy haughtily.

Dayne watched Arya as he spoke. With a chuckle, he said, “I’ll take that wager, but you may as well hand the gold over now.”

Meanwhile, Arya was laughing at something Gendry had just told Rickon and was not paying the slightest attention to the men behind her. Rickon had taken almost as well to the smith as Arya had. Most like because of his experience with Arya, Gendry was good at anticipating Rickon’s wild tantrums or outbursts. Nothing the boy said, no matter how bloody or shocking fazed the smith.

“A stag!” The younger boy shouted excitedly. With that, he bounded off across the open field, digging his heels into his own horse, a spear, one of his only remnants remaining from Skagos, clutched tightly in his right hand.

Gendry turned swiftly toward Arya, as if for permission. “Go,” she urged, and Gendry trotted off after the younger boy.

Robb laughed along with Arya, watching the bull chase the wild wolf. Gendry was still not perfectly accustomed to sitting a horse, and his large size made him look awkward in the saddle.

“When is the wedding, little wolf?” Robb teased Arya so as not to be overheard.

She turned a bright red. “Shut up!”

“Lady Stark and Lord Baratheon.”

“Don’t!” Arya threw a chestnut at him now from her saddlebag. It bounced off his leg. “It’s just Arya. And Gendry. Or stupid, if you want.”

Robb laughed. “I can’t be calling my lady sister stupid.” He protested in jest.

“I meant him,” Arya growled, but started to laugh along with her brother all the same.

“They’re off to kill a stag, and he is a stag.” Robb nodded towards the retreating backs of Gendry and Rickon.

“He’s not a stag. He’s a bull.” Arya protested. “A stupid, stubborn one.”

Robb laughed again. “Aye, that’s more fitting. You’ll be needing a new sigil then.”

Another chestnut got Robb in the side of the head, and he laughed as Arya argued, “I’m still a wolf. Don’t make me prove it.”

“Well, then, little sister. You going to make him take your name and sigil then?”

“And why not?” Arya challenged him, then scoffed. “Who says we have to get married anyway? Mother?”

Robb was almost taken aback. “Don’t you want to?”

Arya was, in turn, taken aback. “What’s the difference? Whether we marry or not, he’s mine.”

Robb laughed now. “Might be the only way to get rid of these buggers.” Robb tossed his head backwards to indicate he meant the prince and Dayne.

Arya spared a moment to frown their way. “We’ll see.” She shot back.

“Ready to race?” She asked the two behind them bluntly.

Both boys rushed forward on their horses.

“Will you give me your favor, my lady?” Dayne winked at Arya, and Robb had to hold back a groan.

Arya just grinned wickedly. “My favor will be not throwing you off your horse, Dayne.”

“To the lake.” Arya commanded.

Robb completed the count. At ten, the three were off, their horses kicking up clots of dirt and grass in their wake.

Robb and his father’s men trotted behind them at a distance. From where he was, Robb could see that Arya had quickly gained the lead. It wasn’t simply that Arya was lighter or knew the terrain better than the other two. She was a true horse woman of the north. She’d been riding since before she could walk.

Slowly, Dayne was gaining on Arya, and Aegon on Dayne. A light mist began then. The morning had been cloudy and the sky had threatened thunder and rain. Arya nearly stood now in her stirrups. She disappeared over a knoll, Dayne and Aegon as well seconds after. Robb raced ahead now, somehow uneasy. Nymeria, Grey Wind and Shaggydog had disappeared to hunt almost immediately after they had left the gates of Winterfell. Robb didn’t like losing sight of his sisters outside of Winterfell. He usually didn’t mind, as long as Gendry or Jon were with her. But Jon was far away in King’s Landing and Gendry had run off after Rickon.

Robb finally crowned the same knoll, to see that Arya and Dayne were neck and neck, Aegon trailing a yard behind.

Suddenly a chill ran down Robb’s back. He felt the shadow approach before he actually saw it. Looking overhead as he rode forward, he saw the unmistakable shape of a large flying beast, obscured by the clouds. Viserion. Ahead, Aegon, looking unconcerned, was slowing his horse to a trot. As the dragon descended, Aegon stood nimbly in his saddle. The dragon neared the three riders. Arya only just then noticed, swiveling sideways in her seat. Her face was one of pure annoyance. Obviously Aegon thought he was being clever; if he managed to mount the dragon, he’d arrive to the lake before the other two with long moments to spare.

Suddenly, as Viserion fanned his wings out to their full width in order to reach the height of Aegon’s horse, Arya’s steed reared. With her eyes still behind her on Viserion, Arya hadn’t been expecting it. She fell sideways in her saddle, losing the reins. She would have tumbled off completely, except her left foot was caught in the stirrup. She hung off the side, her face and hands dragging along the rough terrain until she hoisted herself up as high above it as she could. Robb choked back a breath and spurred his own horse, already foaming at the mouth, forward that he might catch her before she was dragged again or thrown off completely.

Ahead was pure confusion. Aegon didn’t seem to have realized that Arya was in danger. He was swinging himself precariously onto Viserion’s back. Dayne was spurring his own steed, so as to catch up to Arya’s. Dayne was gaining, but on the wrong side of the horse. Were Arya to fall at that moment, Dayne’s steed would trample her. Robb’s own horse began to rear as it got closer to Viserion, who was again beginning to ascend. Aegon, it seemed, had only begun to grasp the consequences he had wrought with his stunt.

Robb kept a tight hold on the reins of his horse, urging it forward. Standing in his own stirrups and leaning forward, he found himself catching up to Arya and Ned Dayne. Dayne was attempting to lean off his own horse and pull Arya back up. Instead, he should have been trying to get control of the horse. Arya was yelling something unintelligible at Ned while, at the same time, trying to lift herself up with only the strength of her middle. Her face was red and scratched from where it had dragged along the tree roots and stones before managing to lift herself up. Her face was pale and twisted in pain, and Robb could now see that her leg was twisted at an unnatural angle.

Worry and anxiety rose in him like an overflowing fountain. If Dayne had not sidled up so close, Arya would have been able to twist back up into her saddle and gain control of the steed. The steed. Robb cursed out loud. He shouldn’t have let Arya race on a horse she was unfamiliar with. This was the first time she’d ridden the beast, so it could not know her, and she could not know the horse.

Dayne finally seemed to have gotten the message and was falling back to swing around Arya’s horse. But Robb had finally gotten there first. He swung his own courser around Arya’s steed and rode side-by-side the steed, leaning over unsteadily until he caught the reins in his gloved hands. Slowly, Robb eased the horse to a trot and then to a stop. Ignoring Dayne’s pleas and request of Arya’s well-being, Robb hoped lithely off his horse, throwing the reins at Jory Cassel, who had been on his heels the entire ride.

“Arya.” Robb’s hoarse voice begged.

She was groaning in pain, hanging directly down off the side of the horse now. “Get. Me. Off.” Arya said through clenched teeth.

Robb circled around her and lifted her torso up. She hissed in pain at the way that movement jostled her leg.

“I’m sorry, love.” He held her close, as Jory untangled her leg from the saddle and stirrups. Arya cursed the entire time, and to his own pain, Robb saw tears streaking her dirt ridden face.

Dayne was at his side now and helped Robb drag Arya down off the horse and to the floor. Arya cried out loudly when her leg hit the floor.

Suddenly, before Robb could stop her, Arya had reached her left arm out and smacked Dayne stingingly across the face. He stepped back in shock, holding one palm up to his red-tinged face. Robb crouched down next to her and held her hand. She squeezed his own hand painfully.

“I told you to get away,” Arya was sobbing and clenching at her knee, toward her ankle, with her right hand. Several of the cuts on her face were bleeding freely, her blood mingling with the salt of her tears and running down her face. “I needed the space to sit up and grab the reins.” She cried out again when she moved her own leg accidentally by shifting where she lay.

“I’m sorry, m’la-.”

“What’s going on?” To his credit, Aegon’s voice was genuinely worried.

“You!” Arya snarled through tears. Though it caused her great pain, Arya wrenched her hand out of Robb’s, reached over her shoulder and nocked an arrow to her bow, quicker than Robb could stop her.

Aegon’s mouth was an ‘o’ of surprise, and he lifted his hands slowly in surrender. Thankfully, he’d left the dragon far behind, else they might all be charred by now.

“What made you think,” Arya said through clenched teeth, “it was a good idea to bring a dragon down on horses?”

“Arya,” Robb said carefully in a low voice. “That’s your prince you’re aiming at. The king wouldn’t be pleased to know it.”

“Jon would do the same,” Arya argued with a glare, but she lowered the bow all the same.

Robb couldn’t say she was wrong.

“I thought you were supposed to be clever.” Arya told Aegon coldly, then looked away as if neither Dayne nor Aegon had ever been there.

“We have to get you back to Maester Luwin, Arya,” Robb urged.

Arya’s eyes were closed now, and fresh tears, from pain more than anything, came pouring from her eyes. She nodded slightly, but when they tried to lift her, so she could ride on Robb’s horse with him, she cried out and clung to the ground.

Robb stared down at her worriedly. “Is it broken or…” He looked anxiously at Jory.

“-dree.” Arya cried incoherently.

Robb crouched quickly down next to his sister, putting an arm comfortingly around her shoulders. “What was that, love?” He grasped her hand again, letting her squeeze it painfully.

“Gendry.” She pleaded. “I want Gendry.” Arya’s face was pale, her teeth clamped down hard, her jaw set.

Robb’s heart stuttered. He kept her hand clasped and stood, looking out across the fields for the smith. How far had he been? Would he have heard the commotion?

“Where’s Gendry?” Arya squeezed Robb’s hand ever harder.

Robb’s brow furrowed and he took a knee again by his sister. “He’s not here, love, and we have to get you back to the castle. It’s going to hurt like hell, but you just squeeze my hand as hard as you have to. Maester Luwin will have milk of the poppy for you as soon as we get there, and all the pain will go away.” Robb tried to comfort her, but knew somehow, it was not enough.

Arya leaned into Robb, but she shook her head. “Gendry.” She repeated. “I need Gendry.”

Suddenly, a racket of noise exploded from deep within the woods behind them. Jory and his men began to unsheathe their swords, but soon three large direwolves were darting out of the thicket. Then, thankfully, Robb saw two more riders barreling through the trees, one his little brother, the other the smith.

Gendry’s eyes were surprised at the sight of them at first, then fearful when he caught sight of Arya cradled in Robb’s arms. The smith was off the horse before it had even stopped galloping; the horse ran off on its own, stopping nearer the middle of the field to graze.

The smith, meanwhile, landed heavily, but was not deterred. He rushed to Arya’s right side and when she saw him, she sighed his name in relief. Robb felt her leave his grasp and curl into Gendry’s.

When he spoke, Gendry’s voice scorched. “What happened?” Gendry held Arya’s head to his chest and his fingers trickled lightly down her leg toward her ankle.

In a low voice, Robb quickly explained why and how Arya had been dragged through an acre or two of land. Without moving, which would have made Arya uncomfortable from pain, Gendry looked up at both the prince and the lord of Starfall with a look that told them he would kill them both if he could. His blue eyes looked afire with fury, and his mouth twitched in anger.

Then Gendry looked back down at the girl in his arms, and his eyes softened. He used the back of his hand to wipe blood that was trickling down Arya’s forehead and towards her eyes.

“You’ll be alright,” he promised her.

“Stupid bull,” Arya muttered into the smith’s jerkin. “Where have you been?”

Gendry chuckled, stroking Arya’s hair. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you go and get yourself nearly killed.”

“My lord,” Jory Cassel spoke, “we should get my lady back to the castle.”

Gendry looked startled when he realized Jory was speaking to him and not Robb. “Can I pick you up?” He asked Arya softly.

Hesitantly, Arya nodded her head.

“Fear cuts deeper than swords,” Gendry murmured softly into her hair. Arya’s lips, previously twisted in pain, tilted into a weak smile.

From beyond, Aegon called out, “I can take her back on Viserion. It’s the quickest way.”

Both Arya and Gendry ignored him, though Robb sent him an appreciative smile.

“If he speaks one more time-.” Arya started.

Gendry silenced her with a kiss to the top of her head. “What will it be, m’lady, dragon or horse?”

“A bull.” She grunted in pain, as he began to lift her up. Robb gently adjusted her leg in Gendry’s arms so it would be more comfortable.

Gendry chuckled. “Dragon it is.”

“Not with him,” Arya moaned into Gendry’s neck.

“Viserion.” Gendry called loudly.

Across the way, the prince flinched. He didn’t like it when Gendry addressed his dragon directly. Nor when Gendry rode either of the other dragons. Nor indeed that all three dragons had taken easily to Gendry and had developed a fondness for him that hardly any others inspired in their reptilian hearts.

A gust of wind blew across them as Viserion floated down from above to land in their midst. The horses all about reared, and Jory and the others struggled to keep them under control. Carrying Arya, Gendry walked gingerly toward the dragon. Aegon appeared at the smith’s side.

“If you hand her up to me, I can-.”

“Gendry’s taking me.” Arya snapped, her voice muffled from where she hid her face in the gap between Gendry’s neck and shoulder.

“As m’lady commands, coz.” Gendry shrugged nonchalantly at Aegon who only had a defeated set of eyes for the woman in the smith’s arms. Though he referred to Aegon as his cousin only to annoy him, there was truth to it, as they were distantly related through Gendry’s great grandmother.

Viserion, who seemed to understand Arya’s precarious condition, crouched low to the ground. With Robb’s help, Gendry clambered over Viserion’s wing and settled Arya into Aegon’s saddle. Robb and Gendry secured Arya’s leg against Viserion’s side so it wouldn’t shift while up in the air. Gendry settled into the saddle behind her and wrapped one arm around her.

As Robb turned to go, Arya grasped his hand tightly. “No.” She mumbled. “You too, Robb. Please.”

Robb was surprised at the plea, though it also warmed him to know his sister still needed him sometimes. “Of course, little one.”

Robb glanced at Gendry who blinked a smile at him. “It’ll be safer to have you in front, so she don’t move around a lot too.” Gendry agreed.

Robb gave orders for Jory and the other men to take his, Arya’s and Gendry’s horses back to Winterfell with them. He argued for a few moments with Rickon who wanted to ride with them desperately and refused to get back on his horse until he could; it wasn’t until Aegon promised to take Rickon flying on Viserion once they got back that the younger boy sullenly agreed to get back on his horse, though Shaggydog’s hackles were raised by then.

Robb once more ensured that Arya and her smith were secure in the saddle before picking up the dragon’s heavy reins.

Sōvēs.” Gendry uttered from behind. The Valyrian word for fly, Robb knew. He’d seen both Jon and Dany fly often enough to remember.

Soon they were soaring, and Robb could see the towers of Winterfell’s castle in the close distance. His belly swooped when he looked down, Viserion’s wings jarring him as the dragon turned toward the castle. His sister’s small hands gripped the top of his cloak. Robb reached one hand up to his shoulder and covered her warm hand with his.

Soon, they were landing in the castle courtyard. Robb helped Gendry lift Arya from the saddle, gingerly so as not to jostle her leg. Even then, she flinched and cursed several times. Finally, they made it up to Maester Luwin’s tower where the maester tutted at them and muttered under his breath about Arya’s recklessness.

Robb clapped the maester on the back. “No more reckless than Jon and me at her age.”

Maester Luwin scoffed. “Much more.” As he gathered herbs to make a poultice for the pain, he went on to recount the last several times, all in the past week, that he’d healed Arya in some way.

Across the room, Gendry was slowly coaxing Arya into drinking the small cup of milk of the poppy Luwin had thrust into his hands. Robb helped the maester gather what he needed, helped him grind the herbs into the paste. Now Gendry was using a cool, wet cloth to wipe the dirt and blood from Arya’s face. She was smiling somewhat now, if still a bit pained.

Only moments later, Luwin was shooing both Gendry and Robb out of his chambers. He gave them two large bowls to fill with the snow that refused to melt outside of the castle gates.

Robb followed Gendry down the tower steps, both of them taking the stairs two at a time in the rush to get the ice to soothe Arya’s ankle.

As they walked side-by-side across the courtyard, Robb glanced at Gendry only to see him looking uncertain, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“She’ll be alright.” Robb assured him.

Gendry glanced Robb’s way as if surprised he’d said anything. “Thank you.” His voice was gruff when he spoke.

It was Robb’s turn to be surprised. “For what?” He blurted.

“I mean…” With the hand that was not holding the bowl, Gendry clutched the back of his neck almost nervously. “For saving her. You stopped her horse.”

Robb almost bit back that of course he’d saved her, she was his little sister, but knew Gendry hadn’t meant it that way. Gendry also looked incredibly pained when he said, “She could have been killed.”

Robb felt pity for the haunted look in Gendry’s eyes. “Aye, but it’d take a lot more than a stupid Dornishman and a dragon to finish her off.”

Gendry couldn’t help but chuckle. “I hope so.” He responded, but his eyes darkened again. “I should have been there. She should’ve known better than to race a horse she’s never ridden before.”

Robb silently agreed on that last point, but out loud, he said. “It’s not your fault, Gendry. Once she puts her mind to something, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.”

As they crossed over the moat and towards the forest, a handful of his father’s guards shadowed them. Under his father’s orders, none of the Starks were to leave the castle grounds without protection.

Gendry had that stubborn look on his face that he got when Arya was arguing with him about something particularly stupid. “It’s still my fault.” His face was twisted almost in confusion. He hesitated before saying, “If I hadn’t waited this long to ask for her hand…” He glanced sideways at Robb almost worriedly as he spoke. “These bloody buggers would have cleared off by now.”

Robb snorted with laughter. Gendry joined in.

Using the cups Luwin had given them along with the bowls, Gendry and Robb shoveled snow into the bowls silently for a few moments.

Robb thought hard before he spoke. “Is it marriage for a certainty then?”

Gendry got that pained look again. “If she’ll have me.” The smith paused in his shoveling, hesitating again before speaking. “I wanted everyone’s blessing first…”

Robb blinked at him, as he packed the snow down into the bowl so he could fit more.

Gendry spoke again before he could. “I mean, I’d ask your father first, but…what I mean to say is…I’d want all of your blessings. I think it would mean a lot to her.” Gendry finally looked away, scooping more snow into his cup.

Robb looked away too. He was conflicted, one part happy for his sister and the smith, another part apprehensive. “Will you move her to Storm’s End with you?” He said suddenly. Though it had been a few years now, it still felt as if he’d only just gotten his sister back.

Gendry gawked at him. “St- Storm’s End?” Gendry looked genuinely concerned now. “Will your father make us go there if we marry?”

“Of course not.” Robb now felt one part confused, one part amused and another part relieved. He laughed. “Don’t you want to claim your land?”

Gendry shook his head vehemently. “It’s Edric who knows the land, the castle and the people, not me. It should go to him. If he ever comes back.” Gendry looked apprehensive now as they stood to deliver the snow back to Luwin. “I’d go if Arya wanted to, but she never would. The North is her home. I could never take that away from her. Not for a whole kingdom.”

Robb smiled brightly. It had been the right thing to say. “Well, then, Gendry. You have my blessing.” Robb paused, unsure if he should go on. Then, “You’re a good man, Gendry. I’m glad my sister found you.”

Gendry looked self-conscious. “And I, her.”

Robb grinned sideways at the smith. “When will you ask her?”

“Tonight, if it means the bloody prince and Dayne will leave right away.”

They shared a laugh as said prince and lord trotted up the Kingsroad towards them and the castle, both looking the worse for wear and completely downtrodden.

“What are you two smiling about?” Arya asked suspiciously when they re-entered the maester’s chambers, snow in hand.

“At the beating you’re going to give those two idiots later when you’re better,” Robb said, making Gendry and Arya laugh. Even the maester cracked a smile as he scattered snow delicately over Arya’s ankle so as to bring down the swelling.

“Who says I’m going to wait?” Arya growled.

They laughed again, but Gendry said, “I do,” as he smoothed her hair back away from her face and took her hand in his, hoping to distract her from the pain Luwin was causing by probing her ankle.

As Robb went to inform his mother of Arya’s injury, he watched the two interact. Arya’s eyes softened almost every time she looked at the smith, unless he was the cause of her ire. And the smith, in kind, looked at the girl as if she was the only thing that existed. Yes, Robb was glad Gendry had come into her life. He wondered if he should warn the rest of his family the smith would be visiting them very soon with a surprising request. No, he smiled, he’d let them find out on their own.

anonymous asked:

Hey, I love your blog so much!!! I saw your written oneshots from requests (lams and hamlaf) and they were so good! Are you able to write a philidosia oneshot or is it too much? Thank you!



Philip hated holidays where he didn’t get school off. It was always stupid. Valentines Day in general was stupid. First off, he was always sent to Aunt Peggy’s because is parents wanted to celebrate “romantically”, whatever that meant. He grumbled to himself, holding the paper bag of Valentines his mom made him write to his class, even bought candy he couldn’t have to put with it!

So yeah, Valentine’s Day was stupid. His teacher, Ms. Brooks, stood up, clapping her hands together happily. “Okay kids, now it’s time to put everyone’s Valentines in their boxes! When everyone’s done we can sit down and open them!”

Instantly everyone was up, Philip slowly climbing out of his seat, walking to each box quickly and putting the cards in them. He was the first one done, ignoring everyone talking and going back to sit in his seat.

Theodosia watched him as she put her cards in the boxes, frowning at how pouty her friend looked. When she had only a few cards left, she walked over to him, crossing her arms.

“Why are you upset?” He looked up, wiping his curls from his face.

“M not…” She rolled her eyes, standing the way Daddy said Mommy stood when she got annoyed with him.

“You’re pouting! That means you’re upset! It’s Valentimes Day Philly!” He scrunched his nose at the nickname, “You’re supposed to be happy.”

“M not supposed to be anything. And don’t call me Philly! ‘Sides, Valentimes Day is stupid.”

Theo gasped. “No it isn’t! Valentimes Day is a lovey day! You have a Valentime - and - and candy and flowers!” He pouted even more.

“Well, I never gots a Valentime, no one in the school is nice to me.” She stayed quiet for a moment, reaching her hand in her bag and rummaging around.

“Aha!” She pulled out his card, a few sizes bigger than the others she’s given out, a drawing of flowers on the front, bees buzzing around them, little lines showing where they’d flown. His name was written on the front, little hearts dotting the i’s.

“I’m nice to you!” She smiled, watching as he opened the card.

To Philly, Happy Valentimes Day! We should has a play date sooon! - Theo

P.S. I think you should bee happy!

She grinned wider, putting her hand back into her bag. “I gotta finish. Do you wanna bee my Valentime Philly?”

His face flushed red, freckles standing out more against the pink of his face, and he didn’t say anything, but nodded. She grinned, “Yay!”

~     ~     ~

Biting his knuckles, Philip huffed once more. Angelica rolled her eyes at her brother, “Philip, you two have been pinning after each other for like, ever. She’s going to say yes!”

“I know, it doesn’t make me any less nervous!”

“SHE’S COMING!” His littlest sister ran past him, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Thanks!” He yelled back sarcastically, “Now that she knows something’s gonna happen…”

“Um, yeah, I am here.” Theo laughed a bit as she opened the door a bit wider, freezing when she saw the sign.

Since the day Philip and her were five, when they first agreed to be each other’s “Valentimes” forever, he’d saved the cards she’d made him. As he got older he felt it was odd, but his mom told him it was sweet.

Now, over eleven years of Valentines cards, Christmas cards, Birthday cards and randomly left notes, all hand done, all thought out with some kind of pun, he’d had over sixty saved. He had planned to throw some out, but as prom approached and he knew he wanted to ask her, Angie had given him an idea.

Carefully placed across a paper board, were all sixty seven cards, spelling out the word “Prom?” He’d done his best to add little drawings on the boarder, mimicking as best the drawings she’d done over the years.

His face was bright pink, hand gripping the end of his curls as he smiled at her, Angie and John holding the sign up. “Um, so? Besides being my Valentime, will you go to prom with me?”

Theo covered her mouth, looking at the sign. She recognized the cards she had given him, seeing little bee drawings bordering the sign. 

“Oh my…Philip! This is - yes!” She nodded, for once, snarky responses were held off, as she was unsure how to express how happy she was, how cute she thought this was.

He grinned happily, all but catching her as she jumped into a hug, and behind her back, fist pumping. He was ecstatic! 

The Littlest Hamilton ( Part 1 )

Thomas Jefferson & Child!Reader 

[ Part 1 ]

Time Period: Modern AU

Words: 1,167 (i honestly didn’t think it would be this long ! :o)

Warnings: Zilch ! Just floofity floof ! 

A/N: Hi everyone! 
So this is my first attempt at a Hamilton reader-insert that doesn’t have Washington as the main character! *dramatic gasp !* It’s not romantic tho, but more fluffy ! 

I’ve hesitated about posting this a lot, but I thought I’d give it a try and see what you all think! I rlly hope you enjoy it ! 

This is a series by the way, though with school starting over here, I’m not so sure when I’ll get the next chapter up ! Hopefully soon !

I hope you all like it! Please tell me what you think - I love feedback! Also, if you have any advice or suggestions about how to write Thomas and his character, I would rlly appreciate it v v much !!! 

Now, without further ado, enjoy! ^ U ^

Originally posted by wegotitmadeintheshade

Thomas Jefferson was not expecting visitors at six in the morning. 

Nor was expecting to see to a disheveled Hamilton at his doorstep, looking more anxious than he usually was.

But most of all, he was not expecting to see a toddler - no older than three, if he had to guess - holding onto the lawyer’s hand and fighting to stay awake.

Keep reading

A Short Break

A/N: I worked on this last night. I am trying to work on my angst, so I figured I’ll eventually (hopefully) build it up and cause pain. Pain? Sorry, I meant… entertainment.

If you want to be tagged in my work, just let me know! 

Title: A Short Break

Pairings: Dean x Sam x OlderSister!reader with light hints of Reader x Cas

Warnings: The usual. Light descriptions of pain, fluff, and pixie dust.

Words: 2040 ish (Don’t let the number fool you. It’s quantity over quality).

Tags: @graceb200371

Originally posted by plaidstiel-wormstache

Keep reading

No Place In Peace

Dudley’s not such a great name, huh? I’ve never thought so and I’m one of the sad sacks saddled with it.

Dudley Stephen Smith.

Technically the second, I think, but I’m not well versed enough on generational naming semantics to know for sure.

What I do know, however, was that the guy I’m named for, my paternal great uncle, was widely considered to be a real mean son of a bitch. So yeah, if being called “Dudley” wasn’t bad enough, I inherited it from someone that nobody actually seemed to liked. As confusing as it is unfortunate, isn’t it.

Thanks, Mom and Dad.

Keep reading

first lady, six.

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

pairing: taehyung x reader.
word count: 4.4k
content: angst, inappropriate language, ice hockey!au
a/n: first off, i’d like to dedicate this chapter to the amazing @jangjangboom7​ that has been dealing with my shitty self lately and still being so wonderful and i love her for that; also to the lovely @uberbabetae​ that’s my yelling partner at hockey matches and rival for the day, you’re the best and i love you; last but not least to the absolute angel that @seaseok​ is! i love you, beautiful being! i also wanna thank all of you for the love you’ve been given first lady, y’all have a special place in my heart!now prepare the tissues and enjoy.

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Voices surrounded you the whole time and now that your eyes began to feel lighter, the voices finally seemed to carry a clear message with them. You felt Yoongi’s angst when he asked how could it be possible - you had no idea of what it was but for your brother to react just like that, it had to be something hell serious for sure. You felt you father’s concern when he asked why did you pass out if the whole problem was your knee and it didn’t take much effort to catch up with the nurse when she said that it was just too much pain for your body to process.

But, more than anything, you felt your mother’s sorrow as she requested silence.

You also felt how incredibly warm your left hand was compared to the right one and that’s when you knew you should try to break through the darkness and fight to open your eyes.

A painful grunt came from the back of your throat as your irises welcomed back the artificial lightening of your room and it all fell silent for a moment.

Keep reading

overwatchneedsyou  asked:

Howdy!! Love your blog. Can I get some Hanzo and Genji body worship? Drabble or headcanon, whichever comes to mind first. They both need more lovin' Thanks! <3

Genji adored his older brother immensely. He often found himself staring at him at every hour of the day. No matter what the young heir was up to, Genji found beauty in it. He loved to watch Hanzo when he was at work, whether it be his studies, training, or meeting with the elders. He always had such strong features, looking focused with his brows furrowed and mouth In a tight line. His hair was usually tied up, save for a few strands that would slip out and escape on his face. Even his body language was very closed off, keeping himself at a level of respect where few dared to speak with him unless totally necessary.

Going on an entire day wound up tighter than the string of his favorite bow, Hanzo often secluded himself in his quarters for the evenings. The only person who dared to break his solitude was Genji. The younger brother knew his brother well, far more than any sibling likely should. He was the one who often brightened his nights when a day seemed to drag on endlessly for the heir. Today was no exception to this. Genji had spotted Hanzo being scolded by their father earlier today, which had made his blood boil. He couldn’t stand the way he treated Hanzo, having him on such a suffocating leash that it was a shock he hadn’t been choked to death yet.

While Hanzo had learned to keep his emotions in check and keep from expressing them, he wasn’t perfect. Genji knew the little signs of his brother. He had seen the way his bottom lip quivered as their father yelled at him. He knew the man wanted to shed tears, but that would have made matters worse. The rest of the day, Genji felt furious. He wanted to soothe the ache and pain that his brother felt, even if no one else could tell he was hurt. As the sun fell on Hanamura, Hanzo locked himself away in his room for the night.

Hanzo had just finished bathing, his hair still damp with a towel around his waist. He heard the sounds of knocking at his door, much to his displeasure. He clears his throat to speak. “I don’t require anything at the moment. Please, leave me alone. I have had a long day and would like to rest.” He spoke very formal, assuming one of their many servants had come to check up on him. Yet, he was proven wrong by the too familiar snicker he heard, followed by his door being slid open without his consent.

“Resting this early in the night? How old are you again, Hanzo?” Genji teases his brother with a grin, closing the door being him and making sure to lock it. He noted the lack of clothing his brother wore, which was just a nice bonus he hadn’t been expecting to see. He had already changed for the night, sweats and an old shirt on top for bed.

“Unlike you, I actually had work to do. So, I’m a bit tired and sore. Now, what do you want?” He asks in a tired tone of voice, wanting to get to the point. He wasn’t a small talk type of person. While he waits for an answer, he tries to grab his clothes for bed but is stopped. Genji has grabbed him, slipping his arms around his waist and pressing his face into his neck. He can feel his breath against his neck, causing goosebumps to cover his arms and legs.

“Shhh, don’t be like that. It’s just us, Hanzo. You can talk to me and tell me anything. Is something wrong?” He wanted to ask about their father from this morning, but he was sure Hanzo would deny anything if he asked directly. Genji can feel the way his brother’s breathing starts to pick up before he heaves a heavy sigh. He can feel him loosen up, shaking his head. “No, nothing is wrong. I’m simply sore. I pulled something in my back while sparring today.”

Genji is satisfied enough with the answer, though wishes for more than physical pain. He presses a couple of kisses to his neck, smiling as Hanzo shivers. He had him around his finger, and both of them knew it. Ever since they started this relationship of sorts, Hanzo’s pride was easy to melt away with the littlest touches and affection from his younger brother. “Lay down on your stomach and take off the towel. I’ll massage your back, okay?” Hanzo has no reason to decline, so he accepts and does as he is told. Grabbing a bottle of lotion from the bathroom first, Genji goes to tower over him.

He coats his hands in the lotion and starts to work his magic. He rubs at his shoulders, feeling the knots under the skin. He doesn’t miss the soft groan from Hanzo as he starts to knead away. Genji knew his brother deserves this and much more. He would put him on a pedestal if he could, never having to lift a finger in his life. A man as beautiful and wonderful as Hanzo shouldn’t have to obey the elders. At least, that was what Genji thought. “You’re so pretty, brother. Your skin is so flawless, smooth and soft to the touch.” He whispers, going to lean down and kiss at his neck again. He presses many pecks around the top of his back while his hands went lower.

Hanzo gasps a few times as he would hit a nerve, making him squirm under his touch. This really was hitting the spot, but he was more into all the sweet talk. Genji was relentless, praising him like no one else. “Hanzo, you’re perfect. I don’t even know where to start.” Genji goes to kiss down his back, his hands going lower to rub and squeeze his waist. He rubbed in circles, smiling as Hanzo let out a faint moan. His kisses were going all over his neck, shoulders, back, and stopping at his waist. “I guess I can mention your perky little ass, yeah? I could squeeze it all day.” He teases, hands grabbing large handfuls of the cheeks.

“G-Genji! Hah, that’s not my back-” He is cut off as Genji leans forward and turns his head to kiss him. He doesn’t want to hear any complaints while he’s at work. Hanzo probably didn’t think he deserved all this praise, but Genji knew he truly did. His hands keep squeezing his ass while he’s kissing him, but they start to go lower. “Thanks for reminding me about your lips. They’re such a pretty pink and the best pair I’ve ever kissed. I could spend hours just kissing you on repeat, brother. Don’t you agree?” He hears him take a sharp breath as one of his hands slip between his thighs and parts them.

Genji gently massages and squeezes the inner thighs, feeling him shake underneath him. He wanted to touch Hanzo all over, and he planned to. His hands rub those thighs, scooting dangerously closer to his cock. Hanzo hadn’t meant to be aroused, but his body was so damn close. Every word he said sent shivers down his spine, along with the kisses. His touches were getting far too risqué to be considered a massage too. “Your thighs? So soft and squishy. I almost want to put my face in between them, but maybe later…” He chuckles, a hand slipping under him.

The moan that leaves Hanzo’s throat is loud, filling the room up. He could feel Genji’s hand wrapped around his cock, making him arch upwards. He pressed his ass back against Genji’s waist, making him smirk. “Lets not forgot your dick. Always so hard for me only. You really do know how to make a man feel special.” He was pressed up against him, whispering and nibbling by his ear as his hand starts to move. He strokes him real slow, making the elder brother groan. He starts to grind against his ass, letting Hanzo feel the lack of underwear he was wearing under his sweats.

“Hnnngh…G-Genji, you’re so good to me..” He lets out a soft whine of approval. He was eating up all the praise, following his lead as he was told to get on his hands and knees properly. Genji’s spare hand found its way around to the front, going to squeeze at one of his plump pectorals. He heard the sharp whine fall from his brother’s lips, well aware of their sensitivity. “Lets not forgot these. You have such cute breasts and nipples to match. So soft…” He takes turns with which one he squeezes with his hand, twisting the pink nipples between his fingers one at a time.

The hand on his cock kept getting faster, running his thumb over the head a couple of times. Hanzo was all choked out moans and whines, eyes starting to water. His face was flushed with red, shaking all over like a leaf. “Are you going to cum soon? Go on, just let go. You deserve it….” He purrs in his ear, watching Hanzo lose his composure even more. It doesn’t take much longer before he hits his orgasm. He grinds his ass back against the outline of Genji’s erection, releasing into his hand while sweet praises were being sung into his ear.

Genji listens to him pant, removing his hand from his cock. He smiles bright, going to turn Hanzo over and give him loads of kisses before finally taking his lips. He kept the kisses going and going until they needed to stop to breathe.

“Genji, thank you. Please, let me help you back…” Hanzo meets his gaze, a hand going to slip under his sweats. This earns him a chuckle and nod.

“Go ahead.”

Next Time, Clean Your Room

Title: Next Time, Clean Your Room
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Summary: Ticklish!Sam; Sam really should of just listened to big brother and cleaned his room.

Original Prompt: How about Dean telling Sam to tidy his room and Sam refusing, then tripping over something, or getting tangled in something on the floor or whatever, and Dean taking the opportunity to tickle him, telling him that “this wouldn’t have happened if you’d just kept your room tidy”?

A/N: So I haven’t had time to write much, this is the first draft I had so I decided to get it done. I haven’t forgotten about anyone, I swear. Next up is one about Gabriel so ya know, keep in touch guys don’t lose faith lol

Dean wasn’t a neat freak by any means but seeing Sam’s messy room made Dean grind his teeth a bit. He knew Sam was tired, kid did school then research then training and then sometimes helped cook dinner and wash dishes plus doing his homework and more research afterwards. So yeah. Sammy was reasonably tired. But it wasn’t so hard to put his dirty clothes in the freaking hamper so Dean can get laundry done. Instead, it’s dropped on the floor like normal teenagers.

Little shit was probably doing it on purpose too. Dean’s asked Sam two times in the last hour to clean his room but the kids head was stuck in his biology book, working on something Dean didn’t want to care to think about.

“Sammy, seriously. I’m not messing around this time. Clean your room before you hurt yourself. It’s a walking hazard waiting to happen,” Dean said, peering into his brother’s room. Sam was on his stomach on the bed, writing in his notebook with the computer to his right.

“I’ll do it later, Dean. This is important,” Sam stated, not even looking up at his brother. “And it’s Sam.”

Sammy,” Dean corrected. “Just clean your room. I’m not gonna ask again and dad’s gonna be pissed if he finds out you’ve been skipping out.”

“He get’s pissed over the littlest things. It’s not like he’s ever around for it to matter,” Sam huffed, flipping his page. Dean winced, looking sadly at his brother.

“Sammy…he does his best.”

“Whatever… and it’s Sam!”

“I’m sick of your fucking attitude,” Dean snapped, moving to his full height. “Stop bitching for once and do as your fucking told and clean your damn room!” Dean turned and headed for the kitchen.

“Dean, wait,” He heard his little brother’s guilt ridden voice call out to him. “De-oomph!”

The crash had Dean rushing back to the door, looking down at his fallen brother. Sam had gotten his feet tangled in the bed sheets that were lying on the floor amongst all the other crap. Dean sighed, maneuvering around everything and making it to Sam, kneeling next to him.

“Are you okay? Nothing hurt?”

“Yeah…I’m fine,” Sam sighed. His guilty hazel eyes peered up at Dean. “I’m sorry De, I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“It’s okay, Sammy. I know you’re stressing,” Dean soothed him softly, running a hand through Sam’s hair. His eyes turned amused. “Guess you should of cleaned your room, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. Unsure eyes looked up at Dean. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean smiled fondly. He scooped up Sam’s tangled feet and worked on getting them free. His little brother patiently waited until he suddenly gasped and started withering. “Sammy?”

“S-Sorry,” Sam muttered.

“I thought you said you weren’t hurt,” Dean worriedly checked over Sam’s feet again, putting pressure all over to find what caused Sam to squirm.

“I-Ihi’m nohot!” Sam giggled, tugging at his feet. It took Dean a second before he was beaming at his little brother.

“Ohhhhh, I see.”

“Dehean no. Don’t yohou dare!”

“Don’t what Sammy?”

“Tickle me!”

Dean smirked and Sam panicked, trying to take back what he just said but Dean was already scribbling his nails over Sam’s vulnerable arches.

“Nohoho Dehehean stahahapit!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Dean insisted, hitting all the sensitive spots under Sam’s toes. His little brother was pretty ticklish on his feet. 

“Ahahaha noho!”

Dean let go of Sam’s feet and launched himself at Sam’s upper body, easily cradling his little brother to his chest. It was also easy to slip his hand under Sam’s shirt and tickle his extremely ticklish belly.

“NAHA DEAN! YOHOHOU JEHERK!” Sam cried, throwing his head back as high pitched giggles escaped. “OHOHO MY GOHOD!“

“Calm down, we both know you adore this,” Dean teased, nuzzling Sam’s neck. How long had it been since he last cuddled his baby brother? Too long. Kid was growing up, entering that stage where hugs and tickles from his big brother weren’t cool. Along with disobeying his parents. Sam was just growing up.


But looking down at Sam now, it was like the bubbly kid he raised. He dug harder into Sam’s thighs, thumbs diving into that spot on both sides right at the V of his brother’s pelvis. The thigh bone? Femur? That pelvis bone? Whatever, all Dean knew was that it made Sam curl up and scream like a girl.

“Really? You don’t like this?” Dean placed a few raspberries along Sam’s neck, using his small stubble to rub into his brother’s sensitive skin.


“I’m De again?” A warm feeling filled Dean’s chest and he held Sam a bit tighter. With a few well placed pokes, he had a weepy, giggly mess of a little brother curled into his lap. Sam’s cheeks were flushed red and his eyes were glinting with mirth. “Okay, ya big dork. I’m done.”

“You’re such a meheanie,” Sam giggled, panting tiredly.

“And you’re adorable.”

“No m’not…”

“My adorable, ticklish baby brother,” Dean cooed, snickering at how red Sam started turning.

“Freaking jerk…” Sam sighed, looking around the room. “M’sorry I’ve been such an ass lately.”

Dean nearly groaned as Sam subconsciously pulled out the puppy eyes. Dean could never stay mad at the puppy eyes.

“S’okay kiddo. I get it, you’re stressed and a teenager and no one understands you,” Dean teased. “But don’t forget that you’re still my baby brother and always will be, kay?”

Sam was smiling brightly, hugging Dean tightly. “Okay, Dean.”

“Now go clean you’re room, bitch.”


*Requested* Will you do a Kai Parker imagine where the reader and him are together and after he killed his family he went to go kill the reader at her school and he takes some of her magic but he stops because he loves her to much? 

(I changed the ending a little, I hope that´s okay. Also this might be a bit OOC, because I am a little rusty writing Kai. I hope you enjoy, though! Happy reading my lovelies!)

Characters: Kai x Reader

Story Title: “Screaming Instincts”

Warnings: Mentioning of murder & attempted murder. Also, I would strongly advise you not to behave like the reader did, because if someone shows up to kill you, you nope the fuck out of there as fast as you can.

Word count: 793

Your name: submit What is this?

It´s almost midnight in Oregon, the crickets chirping away into the night. You close the last door behind you, leaving your schools gym behind you. You and your friends, who already left, where occupied with decorating it for a dance tomorrow and it took longer than you anticipated.  

You leave the janitors key under the doormat, like he told you to and you make your way towards the exit as the noise of a door opening stops starlted you for a second. You round the corner, as the the door opens. In walks you boyfriend Kai. You smile walking towards him, until you see something on his shirt. Blood.

Y/N: “Kai? Wh-Why is there blood on your shirt?”

Kai: “Oh that? It´s not mine.”


Y/N: “Wh-Who´s is it ?”

Kai: “My families.”

Double oh.

Keep reading

A Shared Passion

Okay well I don’t know how it happened. I got an idea, ran with it and somehow I wrote 13 pages worth of I DON’T EVEN KNOW.

But its fine. So I hope you enjoy, I’m sorry its so long, and I’m gonna put in under a read more because its so long. Let me know how it is guys.

RIP me.

Prompto x Reader (Gender Mutual)


Word Count: 3,888

    To everyone who knows Prompto Argentum, they know he’s a photo fanatic. The boy loves photography and isn’t afraid to show it when pulling out his camera to get the best shots; although, sometimes not during the most convenient or safe moments.
     But that doesn’t stop him.
     It was this particular time that the boys were coming back from a particular fight, that had almost went south. If not for Ignis’s quick thinking, one of them could have gotten hurt. Which put most of them in a somber mood. But not Prompto. He was just happy to be alive and that his friends were okay.
    Driving along in the car to a certain rest stop near by, because none of the Chocobros really had the energy to camp and were close enough to one, Prompto called them to a stop because they were about to pass by a certain landmark that the photographer of the group just had to get a shot of. Ignis pulled over on the side of the rode to stop, and told him to hurry, while the others waited in the car. So he grabbed his camera and off he went to said landmark.
    Although he didn’t expect to run into you.

Keep reading

“Rejection”; Chapter Seventeen

NOTES: You guys can all thank the great-and-mighty @elisakou​ for pushing this chapter out today! Oh yeah, Happy Memorial Day! :D

If you haven’t seen the totally-rad fanart that she made for me, the link for that is here. Please go support her blog, and follow her immediately!! 

Also, when the “golden soul” is mentioned in this chapter, that soul trait represents “justice”. Thanks, and here’s some more juicy Sans x Reader fanfiction!


You took in a deep breath; hefting the ball in your hand, you launched it at the wall behind you where Sans surely was.

Wrong. He teleported out of the way, chuckling evilly; his laugh echoed around your head, and it drove you crazy. There was silence until you saw him leaning up against a different building. You backed up, trying to flee from the situation, but froze when he glared at you. His entire body was concealed in shadows, except for his bright eye. It flickered in the wind; sparks of yellow flying out from his eye socket in infinite directions.

You stood your ground, and curled your fists by your sides. “I’m not scared of you, Sans.” You remarked bravely, your chest agreeing by pulsing a shiny orange hue from within the jacket. Sans glanced down at this, and snickered. “that’s a lot of talk for a human who doesn’t have anything to protect herself with.” He sneered, and stepped from out the shadows.

His shirt was a pure, white color, and his ivory bones glowed in the afternoon light. His black basketball shorts rustled in the wind, as well his fluffy pink slippers. You would’ve acknowledged the fact that he looked like an angel straight out of a painting, but you were too petrified. Pale yellow streaks flickered through the orange soul in front of you, but alas you took in a deep breath and remained calm.

Fear was not getting to you now.

“the way i see it, you have two options.” Sans played with the large and threatening snowball in his hand; you narrowed your eyes at him dangerously. “you can surrender now, and it’ll make both our lives easier. or-” He quote you from earlier in snowball fight, and snapped his eye to meet your gaze after inspecting his perfect projectile, “-you can try and stop me.” He raised a hand, and made the gesture that you recognized as “come and get me.”

You thought it over, when your soul glowed a stunning golden that was the same hue of Alphys’ scales. You got into a battle stance, and readied your fists. The bird from before peeked its head from around the corner, and sang the beginning chords of your favorite song from Undertale. One that filled you with terror and confidence at the same time.


“you wanna do this the hard way? fine. then so be it. just don’t say i didn’t warn ya.” He steadied himself, and flung the ball at you. You dodged it easily, laughing at his poor aim. “You missed, Hawkeye!” His voice sounded from behind your shoulder, causing you to flinch. “did i?” Spinning around, you heard footsteps crunch in the snow behind you at a fast pace. “What the fu- AHH!” You shrieked, tackled to the ground by Sans.

You laughed, and landed onto the fluffy snow. Sans’ eye dimmed down to his normal appearance; he chuckled happily as well. “You planned this!!” You shouted, tears leaking from your eyes. He lay in a plank position above you, and bobbed his shoulders. “of course i did. when you were fighting paps, actually.”

You kept on giggling for another good minute; slowly but surely, you finally relaxed. Sans had been quiet, staring down at your soul. Noticing his unwavering attention on the “private” entity, it returned to its lovely red-pink color. You followed his gaze back up to his face, and realized how close you actually were. There was only a couple of inches, perhaps three or four, from your faces touching.

You soul beat faster; its thumping growing so loud you knew that Sans could hear it. The blood rose in your cheeks, probably making your face look like a firetruck. Sans saw your embarrassment; his left eye instinctively sparked a cerulean mist. His cheekbones deepened with a beautiful blue hue, and you smiled.

Sans could feel his soul ready to jump out of his chest, but knew he couldn’t let that happen. That was like running around butt-naked in public. His knees were placed in the middle of (Y/N)’s legs, so she couldn’t get up even if she wanted to. Sans had to be the first to get off, which was just something that his soul was telling him not to do.

He was just so….drawn to her. It’s like her soul had magnetic capabilities to lure its victims in. His mind told him to get up and walk this whole situation off as a joke, but he couldn’t do it. Chances like this only roll around once in a lifetime, so he might as well make it count. He sighed, and lazily looked down at the human beneath him. Seeing his jacket on her, her long eyelashes twisting gently in the wind, he convinced himself to bring a hand up to his chest.

You watched as the skeleton brought up a hand to his white shirt, and cup whatever was in his hand carefully. It was a white heart, which you concluded was his soul. “Sans…what are you doing?” You whispered, and he brought his attention back down to you. He didn’t say anything; the look in his eye sockets prevented you from saying anymore.

They almost looked… submissive. The very thought of Sans drawing out that- magical blue tongue of his made your skin crawl with anxiety, and… something else that you couldn’t place. If your cheeks could grow any hotter, your face would be melting off. Instead, your ears and chest took it upon themselves to sink into a dark shade of crimson.

Sans raised a non existent eyebrow, seeming to ask for permission.

Permission for what…? You thought, and squealed internally when he took your expression as a “yes” for whatever he was about to do. An idea crossed your mind, but you shook it off. No. Sans is just starting to warm up to me. He wouldn’t…he can’t… But he did.

Ploddingly, Sans let his soul hang in the air right beside yours. Heat radiated off warmly, beckoning your soul to move closer. Sans chortled deeply, making your heart beat faster than it had ever gone before. Dragging his hand towards your hair, he slunk his spine downwards like a cat’s. His hand landed right beside your left temple; you grinned shyly. His permanent smile expanded, but his hooded eye sockets remained the same.

It was like he was in a trance; one where not even the strongest magic could break through. The scent of his jacket and shirt wafted up into the air, and you breathed in softly. The smell calmed you, but it did not decrease the red in your face.

And then it began.

Sans dipped his skull half an inch lower, when suddenly your eyes grew heavy. The white soul less than a millimeter away from yours shone like a supernova, illuminating both of your faces in a clean white.

Your soul thumped from that lovely red-fuchsia to a cerulean blue, as it barely made contact with Sans’. Your eyes fluttered shut; you felt the breath of the skeleton above you just a mere inch away. You part your lips, a tingling sensation burning in your core from even the littlest interaction between souls. Just as you were about to carry your face up onto his smooth teeth, a loud and disruptive bark sounded from about 10 yards away.

“AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING, BROTHER?” Papyrus snickered, and your eyes shot awake. Sans opened his eyes wide with fear, and quickly shoved his soul back into his chest. You tried jumping up, but Sans’ knee hit your groin, causing you to wince; Sans rolled over onto his side, and stood up straight. You remained on the snow, silently commanding your soul to re-enter your body. It did as it was told, but the warm and tingly feeling from before faded away and left a pit in your chest.

“no.” Sans simply stated, the blush in his cheekbones vanishing quickly. You had no idea how he did that, for you were still the same color as before. Only this time, it wasn’t from the cold. “YEAH, RIGHT. AND MY PASTA ISN’T DELICIOUS.” Papyrus crossed his arms, and rolled his eye sockets. You sat up, forgetting about the pain in your lower regions temporarily.

“It’s true! Sans was just throwing snowballs at me, and he accidentally tripped and fell on top of me.” You lied, biting your lip. He’s not gonna buy it…  He “accidentally fell on you?” Yeah, ok. I guess he also “accidentally” brought his soul out, too. You nervously made your way up from out of the snow, brushing your- er, Sans’- jacket off. The comedian sent you an impressed look, but he did not smile.

Papyrus uncrossed his arms, and cocked his head to the side. “REALLY? IS THAT TRUE, SANS?” He looked over to his older brother, who was leaning up against the building next to him nonchalantly. Sans got off, and walked over to you. He didn’t get as nearly as close he did before, which slightly upset you, but you shrugged the feeling away.

“yep. totally. humans never lie, bro.” He rest a hand on your shoulder; you cringed at his touch. His hand was cold, not the kind and warm surface you had grown so fond of. You nod reassuringly to Papyrus, who was observing you and Sans for any suspicious behavior. When he found none, he sighed a breath of worry away.

“ALRIGHT, THEN. I BELIEVE YOU (Y/N). YOU MUST BE HUNGRY, DEAR HUMAN! I KNOW I AM.” Papyrus smiled, and ran back towards the square. “Although I could’ve sworn I saw Sans’ soul out…” He mumbled, but eventually forgot the assumption altogether as all the monster children ran up to him with admiration.

While Papyrus went on about how he was going to join the Royal Guard someday, Sans slid his hand off of you; you both sighed in relief. “That was…awkward.” You muttered, flipping Sans’ hood over yourself again in embarrassment. He snickered, placing his hands inside his pockets. “heh, yeah. i’m really flattered (y/n), but next thyme, try be a little more gingerly when you decide show your clove for me.”

He laughed so hard you could hear the rumbling of his bones inside of his shirt. You gasped, and flinched. Is he flirting with me?! “Are you s-seriously making food p-puns when you know I’m starving?” You stammered pathetically; in response, he gave you a shit-eating smirk. He winked playfully, snapped his fingers, and made his way towards Papyrus. You were left standing in the alley like a complete buffoon; but you knew deep down that you were gonna get revenge later.

No matter what it takes.




Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are.)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 –> 19)

Fury - escape series

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake
Pairing: jondami
Summary: Dick can’t figure out for the life of him why his littlest brother is so upset.
A/N: With the announcement of Nightwing: New Order, I decided to explore what that means for a bunch of vigilante kids whose best friends are, you know, metas. Focus is going to be on Jon and Damian, and maybe Tim and Kon, haven’t decided yet. This gon be a lil miniseries in New Order-verse hoorah. With New Order taking place in 12 years, everyone’s obviously 12 years old, so Damian is 25. All the batkids live together because Dick told/made them. Dick’s just a happy, sometimes oblivious lil dictator. Jon and Conner have been in prison for six months to a year, after being in hiding for most of the time, seeing Damian and Tim rarely. Dick isn’t surprised by Damian’s actions, but isn’t happy about them, clearly, and isn’t above punishing Jon to punish Damian.

Stuff for the Escape series


Keep reading

                     - PART VI

Kai Parker x Reader
word count : 3 085
*gif by lightwoodxalec

After Bonnie and Damon figured out Kai and Y/N had gone out of the Prison World on their own , they headed for the one place they were sure Y/N would go. Her childhood home.
Damon rang the bell , waiting for Y/N’s brother to show up. He opened the door and stood there confused.
“Is she back ?” John asked annoyed. “I am not going to give her back her magic so you can use it as a bargaining chip to gain favour with that original freak. How do you know he will still want her ? It’s been ages.. ”
Bonnie and Damon glanced confused at each other.
“They got out. On their own. I guess we underestimated them both…” Damon said finally , leaning against the door frame. “And he will , trust me. Klaus loves his witches and Y/N is one of the most powerful ones ever. Once he learns she has her magic back , he’ll do anything to get her.”
“So she hasn’t come here at all ? You are her brother, I saw her face when I told her you were ‘concerned’ about her.” said Bonnie pushing her way into the house. “Are you hiding her in here ?”
John scoffed trying hard not to laugh.
“No. She doesn’t have the nerve to show up here. Y/N is no longer my problem. She is yours.” he grabbed Bonnie’s hand pulling her out of the living room and towards the door.
“Where is your car ?” Damon asked looking around. “I don’t see it anywhere … ”
“It was stolen a few weeks ago. Must’ve let the keys in the ignition.” John said a little confused as to why he was being asked that question.
Damon chuckled , taking a step towards the door.
“You can’t come in , remember ?”
“Right , that pesky extra boundary you put on to keep me , Caroline and every other vampire out.  OH well , it’s not going to stop me from trying to strangle you for the idiot you are.” Damon said rushing inside , wrapping his hands around John’s neck and pinning him to the wall. “Well , I guess our friends have been here after all…”  Damon said letting John go.  "You are an even bigger idiot than I thought.“
“Y/N has her magic back.” Bonnie stated. “Which means they can be anywhere … ”
“Can’t you do a locator spell?”
John’s eyes widened and he ran upstairs , pulling out their family’s grimoar from under his bed , flipping pages as fast as he could. If his sister really has been here and has her magic back , then she’d need one particular spell. He kept flipping pages ,stopping only when he found there was a page missing. He looked up meeting Bonnie and Damon’s eyes , they had followed him upstairs.
“A locator spell won’t work.” John said , closing the grimoar. “Y/N took the page with the spell blocking tracking spells , permanently.”  

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59. impossible

Originally posted by ikonis

Title: impossible

Pairing: Song Minho/Reader

Genre: Punk! AU

Summary: Normally, when you like your friend’s brother, you don’t accept it. However, it’s quite difficult when her brother is Song Minho.

It would be a lie if she said she knew what occasioned her flaming headache; surely, it could be the lack of sleep or the amount of information she has been trying to get inside her head for the past week, but there was a huge possibility that it was caused by someone else, in this case, a boy.  A very cute, daring and handsome boy.

Studying all alone was hard, even when some could say otherwise. It has happened to every student that has ever existed that their precious studying time is interrupted by the littlest of things; let’s say hunger, or simple laziness that seems to linger in our body in the form of something we all hate…procrastination. Surely, she did well studying alone…but if she had someone that could physically and mentally understand her state of uneasiness and preoccupation while studying, then so be it.

At first it had been difficult, turns out that most students go into reunions and gatherings to ‘study’, but end up gossiping of playing videogames. It sounded thrilling, fun even, but she really had to get the best grade she could in the final exam. While she looked through her group of friends, she found someone who had the same issue with distraction, being it Danah, a girl that sat beside her on her biology classes and the two soon discovered that they shared most of their classes. She recognizes it as a friend, someone who does great in her studies and pretty talented too, so she ends up packing her things and going to her house every Saturday to prepare for the upcoming tests.

Her house wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, pretty comfortable and cozy, from time to time they’ll have her mother entering Danah’s bedroom to give them some snacks for the night. However, it wasn’t until the second week of going to Danah’s house that she got to meet her brother. A man with tan skin, extremely tall and slightly cute for looking so…different. From what she knew, Danah had told her that she had an older brother by one or two years, but the tattoos that covered his body almost peeked out of his uniform and the piercing that he had on his eyebrow had her wondering if he ever got in trouble.

When their eyes connect, she stops completely. The moment she sees him, it was by accident, technically going up the stairs after taking a trip to the bathroom. The brother, as she would call him, looks at her up and down before placing his hands inside his pockets, a smile forming on his face as if it was being drawn over it.

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An unexpected love

Based on “Imagine being married to Bilbo and when he comes home one day he brings two dwarven children he found home saying they were orphans and asking if you felt up to giving them a home” from ImaginexHobbit



He’s an odd one, that Bilbo Baggins.

That’s what everyone had told you when you’d taken on the job of going to Bag End to help with the cleaning and do a bit of cooking while Bilbo rolled up his sleeves to set about restoring his home to its former comfort after his long absence.

Never been quite right since he came back from gallivanting about with those Dwarves, went the whispers, and in some ways, they were right.

Bilbo generally shunned socializing – strange indeed in the close-knit bustle of the Shire – and seemed sometimes to share the common opinion that his travels had made him a misfit, and you had observed him in unguarded moments to stare aimlessly out of the window, his hands wandering distractedly to the pockets of his waistcoat, looking so restless and lost that it broke your heart to see it.

For all that he avoided company, you’d found Bilbo Baggins unexpectedly welcoming, a well-mannered, kindly soul who thanked you for your every effort, who made certain to keep the flowers you liked best in the house after an offhand comment about the loveliness of their scent, and when he smiled at you – and he’d begun to smile at you more each day – you found that, suddenly, all seemed right with the world.

It began with an invitation to supper, extended shyly and almost apologetically.

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The Littlest Winchester - Strong Words

Character(s): Dean Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 499

Request:  I’m not sure if requests are still closed or not so you can trash this one if you’re not finished with the others. Can you write one where The reader says something hurtful to her dad Dean out of anger? Little kids tend to do that a lot…I know lol.


   “Bed. Sleep. Now.” Dean points down the hallway, one hand on his hip.

   “No.” His four-year-old daughter states for the hundredth time.

   “Baby girl,” The Winchester drags a hand down his face. “It is past your bedtime. You need to go to bed.”

   “Don’t wanna.” The toddler crosses her arms defiantly.

   “Don’t care. Go get in bed before I take you there myself.”

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