wandering in the cage

Dear Signs, It’s Okay

Dear Aries,

You are a fireball of energy, blazing through life. You want to savor it’s rawness and be strong in all your might, and you are strong. But it’s okay to cry, and let the softer parts of yourself show- even for a moment- even if it’s just to yourself. Because deep down, through all that strength and valor, you still have the innocence of a child. Not everyone will understand what it’s like to be so authentic in the core, and that’s okay. You are you, in all of your wholeness and that should be shameless. Your childlike innocence doesn’t take away your strength, it gives you an impenetrable shield.

Dear Taurus,

When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you love the person staring back at you, Do they fit the definition of what you find as beautiful? Look deeper, past the skin, past the tangible, and feel- do they feel Beautiful- If not, why not? If the answer has anything to do with other people, listen close. Beauty is subjective but you embody it, you are Earth in her purity, natural and cunning. It’s okay if you don’t always see, but always try to feel it. People don’t always understand the beautiful things in life and that’s okay, as long as you are aware of it yourself- you are akin to a flower blooming. No matter the petals, you are aromatic, intoxicating. Not everyone stops to smell the flowers, but take this as a reminder you always should.

Dear Gemini,

You are a whirlwind of everything around you, and it’s quite remarkable. No one can pin you down, as you can hardly grasp yourself. You are a curiosity, as no one understands you, some days you don’t understand yourself. That’s okay, life is about perpetual learning, and not just about knowing. Knowledge may bring comfort, but it doesn’t secure it. You are a tornado, and it’s natural not everyone can keep up, and that’s okay. You are light-hearted being, with light that needs to dance and smile. Don’t let anyone take your smile away, and or erase the many facets of who you are. With so many faces, you aren’t fake, you’re just multi-dimensional.

Dear Cancer,

You are sensitive and passionate, with a hard shell protecting everything you love. Life comes to you in phases, and you follow your passions wherever they may lead you. You shine brightly in the dark, when all is still. You are a contradiction, like most wonderful things- hard on the outside with a softness inside, both nurturing but harsh. It’s okay to be all of these things, and it’s okay to trade them out through time. You are the moon, and the moon is constantly reinventing herself.

Dear Leo,

You love fearlessly and boldly, and not everyone can handle that. Some are blinded, some are envious, but that’s okay, as long as it doesn’t dull who you are. You shine for those around you, because you love them and you need to know they love you too. It’s okay to love like you do, it’s okay to shine as bright as you do. You have a childlike adoration, and attention serves as validation. Praise strokes the fire in your heart, just remember not everyone has learned about love in it’s pure form. Love them as you would any other stranger, because they need it just as much, but don’t let it drain you. It’s okay to love the world, just know when to it’s time to move on, and be someone else’s sunshine.

Dear Virgo,

You are the oil in the gears that make the world run smoothly. You are anxious, making double sure you’re perfecting your part in the world. It’s natural to want to feel appreciated, as you do so much for others. You might not always do the glamorous things, or be in the center, but you always are doing something. It’s okay to want to be thanked, it’s okay to want to be adored- because you deserve it. Just know, you have to appreciate yourself before anyone else does. Some people don’t see all of what you do, and you can’t change that. You can change who you service, and you can change how you percieve yourself. Always remember to adore yourself, and give yourself credit for everything you do. Without you, this world would be chaos, so remember you are important.

Dear Libra,

Who are you ? I’m sure you ask yourself this quite a lot, and it’s okay if the answer changes daily. It’s okay if the answer changes, because whether you believe it of not, there is no definite answer. People around you may seem solid in who they are, but their not, and that’s okay too. You are not less than them, and you a more than just a reflection, even if that’s others see you. Your identity is fluid, and it changes based upon the people- and that’s why being alone sometimes can be so scary. You are left unarmed as to who you are, with only the scraps of thoughts to keep you together. And sometimes those thoughts aren’t so pretty, and that’s okay, because you’re also more than what ugly thoughts have to offer. You are beautiful, in and of yourself, you are an egnima.

Dear Scorpio,

You are a curious being plopped in a curious world. There is so much mystery, so much hidden depth. Of course you want to explore it all, to you, there is no such thing as an unanswerable question, and every wonder has a right to be answered. This frightens the world at large, because the world isn’t always ready for the truth you bring. It’s okay that you wonder those questions, no matter how dark or taboo. This isn’t a fault with you, because the world is heavy in denial. This is your virtue, because you walk the path so many are hesitate to glance down. Always ask, always discover, always seek, just remember security isn’t always found in the answers. Sometimes the answers break the security you thought you had, and this begs more questions. It’s okay to vulnarable, it’s okay to be exposed sometimes, especially to those who mutually love you, as you love them. Perhaps it’s this way, you’ll find the answer you’re looking for through yourself? But that’s just another question you’re going to have to answer- and it’s okay if there’s more after that.

Dear Sagittarius,

The world is an adventure, and an experience to indulge in. You are a wildfire, untamed and wild, It’s okay to wander. Beings like you aren’t meant to be caged, you are meant to drift and discover, to teach all those who listen. It’s okay to want to befriend the world, just remember not everything is friendly. You know this, but you’re brave and luck always seems to be on your side. It’s okay to believe in luck, always count your stars while you can. If by some stroke of chance you loose them, know that you can always find them again, or better, create your own lucky stars.

Dear Capricorn,

The world is dark, it is hollow, but you fill a much needed crack within it. You are the cement that holds the foundation for many different people, and that’s why the world feels so heavy. It’s okay to feel brittle after holding so much weight for so long. It’s okay to feel exhausted, because this world is mericiless and you brave it well. Your ambitions is what carries you and the ones you love. Just remember, you are also human, and not a machine, even if others don’t see it that way. Remember that, it’s okay to rest, and that you can always carry on in the morning.

Dear Aquarius,

When people imagine colors that don’t exist, they think of you. You function on a plane that many people never ventured on, because so many people are afraid of what they don’t know. You embody what people are afraid of, not because you’re scary, but because you’re different. Different- that’s an adjective that’s used so much in reference to you, it’s practically a synonym to your name. You are just you though, and that’s the magic of it. It’s okay if people don’t understand you’re unique sense of self, it’s okay if they don’t understand your compassion for the world. Its okay if some nights are lonely because you feel misunderstood, some things aren’t meant to be understood by everyone. You aren’t alone for this, you are united because of it. It’s through your eccentricity that will bond you with the few people that truly understand.

Dear Pisces,

The world consumes you, as you unknowingly consume it. You a radar of sensitivity, picking on the undercurrents that most people don’t notice. Some days it feels like your drowning in those waves, and no one understands. They don’t, and that’s okay. They don’t understand you, because often times, they are half blind to the world around them. You hold unimaginable depth, and some people don’t know how to handle that. You are a sponge, soaking up the world’s vibrations and empathy. This may seem like a curse, but it’s a blessing to see the world so vibrantly. This world consumes you, but that’s okay, because you also have the power to capture it.

*check sun & moon*


Note: Reader gets stuck in a lift with Loki and he calms them down when they start to panic. You know the drill; drop me a message if you want to be added to a tag list and let me know what you think!!

Words: 2,731

You can find my other fics here: Loki Masterlist

             “Evening,” you muttered as he stepped into the elevator. Of course, you knew who he was; everyone did. You’d been warned about Loki. Stay away and keep a distance. Whatever you do, don’t engage him. It never ended well for those that tried.

As far as you knew, he’d been in the Tower with the others for many months now, living out a punishment here on Earth. You didn’t claim to understand the logic of keeping him around. It seemed far more dangerous to let him stay here in luxury that in a jail cell. Still, you were sure you’d have heard if he’d tried anything. He’d certainly made a statement the last time he’d visited Earth.

He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement and pressed the button for the floor above your destination. The doors slid shut and you kept your gaze on the ground as you ascended the Tower. Normally you’d have tried to make conversation but Loki’s reputation put you off of trying. He may not have been trying to destroy Humanity any more but that didn’t mean he was known for his polite conversation.

The elevator suddenly shook and it went pitch black. Seconds later the emergency lights flickered on, filling the small space with an incandescent blue light that hurt your eyes. You tapped the display and it soon showed that you were stuck somewhere between floors 25 and 26.

You looked over at Loki, who was in turn already watching you intently. “Help me with the doors?” you asked.

You each pulled on a door, only to end up face to face with the concrete wall. It seemed that you were perfectly between the floors; too high to be able to climb down but too low to climb out. You let out a groan of frustration and tapped the display screen again.

A few seconds later, you heard a voice on the intercom. “What’s happening? Are you stuck?”

               "Between twenty five and six.“

               "Is it just you in there?”

               "Loki is in here, too,“ you said.

There was a moment’s silence on the line before you were told, “Try and stay calm. There was a power glitch that caught out most of the systems. We’re still trying to reboot everything. I’ll get a crew to you as soon as possible.”

You thanked the man on the line and sat yourself down in the corner of the elevator. You pulled your phone out of your bag in an attempt to keep yourself entertained only to find the battery was dead. You let out another sigh. This just didn’t seem to be your day.

Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. It didn’t help. When you finally managed to open your eyes, you saw Loki staring at you again. Somewhat harsher than you’d intended, you grunted, “What?”

               "You seem tense.“

               "I am.” He raised an eyebrow questioningly so you answered, “I’m not keep on small spaces.”

               "It’s a good thing it’s a big elevator then.“ He sat down opposite you and stretched his legs out, almost able to reach you from across the space. Loki’s gaze wandered around the blank metal cage, trying to find anything of interest. When he found nothing, he said, "You clearly know of me. Pray tell, who are you?”

You almost didn’t answer but knew you needed the distraction. “Y/N. I’m an accountant. I try to make sure that the R&D projects don’t go over budget and when they do I am the one that has to find more funding for them.”

               "How dull,“ Loki said dismissively.

               "Not everyone can be the hero or the genius. Someone needs to be there in the background and work out how to pay for everything.” You started picking at the already chipped polish on your nails for something else to do. “Being at the cutting edge of technology isn’t cheap.”

               "I suppose you can’t help being ordinary. Best make do with what little you have.“

               "You really do live up to your reputation, you know that?” you snapped. He had no right to judge your life after the choices that he’d made in his. The fact that he did so regardless made you angry and having nowhere else to go to get away from him made your breath catch. You forced yourself to breathe in and out, trying to block out the fear of being stuck in such an enclosed space.

You started running random numbers through your head, calculating how many days until your sister’s birthday or scaling up the number of eggs in a cake recipe. The simple maths usually helped to ground you but you could feel yourself starting to get warm again. Taking off your blazer, you tried to think about something cold. Ice cream. Snow. Slushies.

               "How long have you worked here?“ Loki asked randomly. His gaze seemed far away as if he didn’t really care but you were sure that you caught him looking at you now and again. When he did, he seemed almost concerned, although you may have been imagining it.

               "A few years. Since I graduated,” you mumbled. Even you could hear your voice shaking and no amount of effort on your part was going to stop that. You closed your eyes but found that only made it worse so you focused on Loki, taking him in as closely as you could without appearing strange.

               "You moved through the ranks quickly, then,“ he pointed out. "Heading a department so young is unusual.”

You searched his face for the judgement people usually gave you, although you couldn’t find it. People often reached one of two conclusions upon hearing about your position: you either had friends in high places that pulled a few strings or you’d slept your way to the top. Neither was true.

You’d been going through a few old books to try and settle a dispute with a contractor when you’d seen something wrong. You’d shown your boss and somehow the information eventually reached Mr Stark that half of the lead accountants were fiddling the books to syphon money off on the side. When it came out that  you were the one that’d seen it, you’d been offered one of the now vacant positions as department head as a kind of reward.

For some reason, you started to tell this to Loki but couldn’t finish as a minor panic settled over you. Your vision was starting to blur and it felt like the small space was spinning. You knew that your mind was playing tricks on you but felt sure that you were going to fall to your deaths. It got so bad that you had to put your head between your knees just to stop yourself from being sick.

Loki shifted beside you and you felt his gently rub your back. It was a sweet gesture however by that point you were too far gone to be helped. You heard someone mumbling gibberish and realised it was you but couldn’t stop yourself.

               "Y/N,“ Loki said. He sounded far away, distant. It took all your concentration to focus on the world and look at him. As you lifted your head, he cupped your face and held you steady. "It’s okay. You’re going to be fine.”

               "I need to get out. I can’t stay here.“ Your entire body was shaking and if not for his strong grip holding you still you would have been convinced that the world was spinning out of control. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks but didn’t care. All you could think about was getting out before things got even worse. "I can’t…”

You let him pull you into a hug as you sobbed, not really having the strength to stop him. Being close to him, feeling something solid to anchor you, helped. You didn’t know how much time passed before you were able to unscrew your eyes but eventually you could. When you finally did so, you saw not the small confined space of the elevator but a beautiful, far stretching lake.

Wiping your eyes, trying to grasp at the little tatters of your dignity that remained, you pulled slightly away from Loki and asked, “Where are we? I don’t understand.”

               "My home: Asgard,“ he replied. There was a sweet bitterness in his voice as if he felt unwelcomed here but he did seem genuinely happy to see this sight again. "I used to come to this place as a child when I needed to get away from my brother.”

Everything was so calm; there was a gentle breeze that sent ripples across the surface of the water and made the fish below swim away. The sky was such an intense colour of blue, the kind rarely seen back on Earth. It felt strange thinking of Earth as another place in the galaxy. “It’s gorgeous.”

Loki smiled fondly as he too took in the view. He looked down at you and asked, “Are you feeling better now?”

You nodded. You knew this had to be a trick somehow - you couldn’t actually be in Asgard, after all (half of you still considered it a mythical place rather than an actual part of the universe) - but just being away from the metal walls made you feel much calmer. Your worried seemed so far away now.

               "Sorry for snapping at you,“ you murmured sometime later, your head resting against his shoulder as you gazed out into the distance. The setting sun was reflected in the clear water, making the whole scene like a fairytale. "I take it back. You’re clearly far more than your reputation suggests.”

               "Far more what?“ he asked. You felt comfortable with his arm around you and the way his fingers gently stroked your skin made you feel all warm inside. You liked the way he touched your hair, trying to make it seem like it was nothing more than an accidental brush.

               "Just far more,” you said after a moment’s thought.

You’d been told that Loki was a trickster, only concerned with himself and willing to let anyone suffer. Sitting with him now, you suspected there was a caring, considerate person deep down beneath the many layers of cynicism and anger that most people saw. You knew you shouldn’t be surprised - there was always more to someone than first met the eye - but his inner kindness still shocked you knowing his past. Still, that didn’t mean you were going to feed his ego.

In the distance, you head a metallic sort of sound. You lifted your head and looked up at Loki questioningly. His face hardened slightly, clearly unimpressed by the interruption to your practically silent but comfortable evening together.

The scenery around you vanished and you shuddered as you felt yourself almost bounce back into your body. Before you had time to panic about being stuck in the small, confined box, you heard a voice shouting above you.

               "Watch out!“ a man called just in time as a panel fell from the ceiling. He leant in and grabbed you by your arms, pulling you up into the elevator shaft. From there, you could easily climb up onto the 26th floor.

You thanked the man as he leant down to get Loki out before deciding to make your leave quickly, without saying goodbye to the god. You were told that the other elevators should all be back up and running but you decided to face the stairs instead. You couldn’t risk being trapped again.

Ten minutes and who knows how many steps later, you reached your floor and stumbled into your office just before your legs gave way beneath you. You hadn’t intended to stay and do work that evening but found yourself needing a distraction. However, when you went to pull your folder from your bag, you found it missing. You’d left in such a hurry that you hadn’t checked to see if you’d remembered everything.

               "I do believe this belongs to you,” a voice said from the doorway. You glanced over to see Loki waving around a black folder. You didn’t know what expression it was that you wore on your face but it was enough to get him to cross the room and hand said file over. “You should be more careful where you leave confidential statements lying around.”

               "Well… Thank you for returning it,“ you said, turning back to your computer. Even though you had your back to him, you knew he was still there, perched on the edge of your desk, watching you. "Loki. Do you mind?”

               "No,“ he told you. You couldn’t be sure without checking but you were pretty sure he’d just stolen a pen from one of your pots and was now tossing it up in the air, playing catch with it. "I’m perfectly happy to wait while you finish your work. I can even pretend to be interested if you want.”

That caught your attention. You spun round in your chair - he stopped you from going too far with his foot - and you raised an eyebrow. Noting that he had put the pen back before you could reprimand him for stealing, you asked, “Wait? Wait for what?”

               "For you to finish. I thought I’d covered that already.“

               "That’s not what I meant…” you sighed. The mischievous glint in his eye told you that he knew exactly what you’d mean but had no intention of answering quite yet. You felt his foot gently pushing you seat around and fought back against the action, suppressing a childish grin. “Why are you waiting for me? Surely you have better things to waste your evening doing?”

               "It’s my time to waste. If I want to waste it waiting for you to finish working, I will.“

You gave him a curious glance. "That doesn’t really answer either question.”

He didn’t reply but it was clear he knew exactly what he had and had not said. He stretched backwards across the desk, the graceful movement pulling his shirt tightly against his chest in a way that seemed to show everything. You forced yourself to look away, blushing slightly as you met his gaze. He definitely knew you’d been staring.

Pushing himself back up straight, Loki looked over at the clock. “I know I said I’d stick around for you to finish but if you don’t start doing something soon you’ll still be here when the office reopens tomorrow. And I had rather hoped to steal little more of your time for myself.”

You checked the clock yourself and saw it was almost 10pm. You had to double check. You’d gotten in to the elevator just before 6 to drop off the files before heading home. How had you not noticed so much time pass when you’d been trapped? Because you were enjoying the company, a voice in your head told you.

               "I’ll finish this in the morning,“ you said, logging off of your computer. You didn’t know exactly what made you decide - tiredness overriding your common sense; the unexpectedly caring way he’d been when you were panicking or just the fact that one should never pass up an invitation from men as attractive as Loki - but, in a rare moment of decisiveness, you knew what you wanted to do. And that was to just be with Loki. You didn’t care where you were or what you did.

He seemed more amused by your sudden change of attitude than anything else, not bothering to question why you’d decided to go against you better judgement. Reaching down, Loki grabbed your bag for you and handed it over once you’d packed away all your folders. You perched on the desk beside him, your arms just touching, and asked, "So what now?”

               "I didn’t plan this far,“ he said truthfully. You gave him another questioning glance to which he replied, "I wasn’t expecting such a positive reaction.”

In that moment, you felt for him. You yourself were guilty of judging him by his reputation - one the seemed at least partially unearned - and you suspected that others weren’t so good at hiding their initial negative feelings towards the god. You took Loki’s hand in yours and gave him a small smile. “Well, you’d better think of something face before I get tired of waiting.”

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anonymous asked:

What do you normally do in 24 hours? What is your average day.

It is all rather unremarkable, but here for your reference is yesterday’s itinerary:

3-4 a.m. Rise. Regret this decision. Ingest caffeine. 

4:15 a.m. Feed and praise the cat.

4:30 a.m. First rounds about the opera. 

4:45 a.m. Deposit chocolates in box five for Antoinette Giry.

5:30 a.m. Rounds complete; return home.

5:33 a.m. Belatedly notice I have neglected to wear shoes for rounds.

5:34 a.m. Belatedly realize that this is likely advantageous, as it reduces noise.

5:35 a.m. Absentmindedly wonder if rogue maintenance workers have seen the Opera Ghost clad in his stocking feet on the rafters.

5:36 a.m. - 1:45 p.m. Compose. Occasional cat-praising breaks.

1:47 p.m. Cat-praising breaks evidently do not occur often enough; cat irritably swats over inkwell, damaging the fifth movement. 

1:50 p.m. - 3:00 p.m. Obliged to rewrite fifth movement with one hand; the other steadily pets the cat to prevent further messy incidents. Cat purrs contentedly. Cat owner experiences a fuzzy, pleasantly warm feeling somewhere in the region of his rib cage.

3:01 p.m. Ingest sustenance. Cat wanders off, likely bent on destroying prized possessions.

3:03 p.m - 3:30 p.m. Answer correspondence, including one from Giry: “Eat these chocolates yourself–you look a fright. Have also included baguettes. Eat immediately. -A.”

3:40 p.m. Post response: “Do not tell me what to do. -E”

3:50 p.m. Receive her response: “Do not fuck with me, Erik. Eat the goddamn chocolates, or so help me. -A.”

3:56 p.m. Oblige out of mild fear; do not wish to repeat the Groin Incident. Consume three chocolates; leave the rest for Christine, Antoinette, and her daughter. Keep bread. They once rioted for that sort of thing, you know.

4:00 p.m. Wards blare. An intruder? I no longer relish murder on a regular basis. Close eyes and will visitor away.

4:03 p.m. Wards continue to blare. Sigh heavily. Retrieve lasso. Cat blinks at me approvingly from atop the divan. Such a good girl.

4:05 p.m. Worse than an intruder; Nadir. 

4:06 p.m. “How the devil do you continually best the traps? Must I simply shoot you on sight?”

4:06 p.m. “You only ate three chocolates, Erik.”

4:06 p.m. “Leave at once, Daroga.”

4:06 p.m. “Must I eat the rest myself?”

4:07 p.m. “Abscond, flea.”

4:07 p.m. “Admittedly, I did sample the almond toffees. Delicious. Here, take the box.”

4:07 p.m. “Do not hand me–”

4:07 p.m. “I brought shiraz.”

4:07 p.m. “I suppose you’d like a medal. Goodb–”

4:08 p.m. Daroga steps over threshold; settles comfortably on divan. Cat purrs happily and curls into a ball in his lap. Am now obliged to entertain. Would rather contract the bubonic plague in 14th century Venice.

4:15 p.m. Sample shiraz. Grudgingly admit it is pleasantly inoffensive.

4:15 - 5:00 p.m. - Grudgingly enjoy reminiscing. Daroga is maddeningly reasonable and affable as always. Multiple inquiries after my health and potential new crimes. Lie splendidly.

5:01 p.m. “Liar.”

5:01 p.m. “Drunkard.”

5:02 p.m. After several drinks, Daroga admits to a romantic affection for Antoinette. Admires her “spunk.”

5:03 p.m. Dissolve into hysterics; may have ruptured a vital organ.

5:04 p.m. “Oh, shut up, Erik.”

5:05 p.m. Bliss–Christine arrives.

5:05 p.m. Lovely confusion upon her face. “What’s so funny?”

5:05 p.m. “Nothing, Mademoiselle Daae–your friend here has had a tad too much to drink.” Nadir says it rather too quickly.

5:06 p.m. “Abominable liar.”

5:06 p.m. Inexplicably decide to refrain from voicing Nadir’s confession, likely due to several empty glasses discarded on the table before me. Feel uncharacteristically charitable. In horrifying danger of adding a pep to my step. 

5:07 p.m. Nadir leaves. Charms Christine, as always. He shoots a warning glance my way. I raise my brows suggestively beneath the mask; he cannot tell, of course. Realize I may be a tad drunk.

5:07 p.m. Christine squints up at me. “Are you drunk?”

5:07 p.m. “No,” I say seriously, and then plant a firm kiss on her rosebud lips. She laughs, silvery, full–ah, bliss!

5:10 p.m. “Did you eat the chocolates Antoinette sent you?” 

5:10 p.m. "Oh, for the love of–”

5:45 p.m.- 7:00 p.m. Lessons. A loose term, now–she is more than adept. Ecstasy of that voice. She makes several insightful suggestions as to the direction of my score. She laughs, adds the odd dry comment here and there. Moves from Pamina to the Queen with ease. Brushes my hand fondly with her own. Another kiss. I could die in peace.

7:15 p.m. Break. I watch her leave the room like a lovesick idiot. The cat trots after her; they have reached a tenuous truce. 

7:45 p.m. Returns. Announces she has prepared dinner. Darling thing.

7:50 - 9:00 p.m. Dinner surprisingly enjoyable. She has only burned a quarter of it this time. Progress. Easy conversation. Ah, my love. The cat knocks over a candelabra. I do not notice until the flame reduces a bit of the rug to a pile of cinders. Stomp it out hurriedly. Little damage. Christine scolds her; hissing ensues. Hairball deposited on hem of Christine’s dress. Truce shattered. 

9:00 - 10:00 p.m. Return to rehearsals. Mastery on her part. I’ve nothing more to teach her. I tell her as much. Why, I wonder, does she persist in this ill-advised affection? Response: Kisses. She pulls away slowly, murmurs, “The wise know there is always more to learn.” She sounds, I tell her, like an old philosopher; why the sudden introspection? “Wine,” she says by way of explanation, giggling, breaking the sudden gravity. It is delicious.

10:05 p.m. She departs. 

10:06 p.m. She returns. “I’m going with you,” she says.

10:06 p.m. I frown. “Where?”

10:06 p.m. She waves a hand absentmindedly. “When you go skulking about the opera tonight.”

10:06 p.m. “I do not skulk,” I say as I skulk to the closet to retrieve my cloak.

10:06 p.m. “I’m going with you,” she says.

10:07 p.m. - 2 a.m. She does.

Push and Pull| Fourteen

Originally posted by justrightforjb

|Chapter One| |Chapter Two| |Chapter Three| |Chapter Four| |Chapter Five||Chapter Six| |Chapter Seven| |Chapter Eight| |Chapter Nine| |Chapter Ten| |Chapter Eleven| |Chapter Twelve| |Chapter Thirteen| |Chapter Fourteen| |Chapter Fifteen|

pairing: Jimin x oc x Jaebum
genre: angst, regret, confrontation, suggestive smut
word count: 2.1k
a/n: Isolde spent three years with Jimin after meeting him by chance in a dance studio. He was perfect and he loved her, she thought he was the one she’d spend the rest of her life with. That all crumbles when he decides he wants to please his parents and leave her so he can be with someone like him. Isolde is plummeted into turmoil and leaves her job as a choreographer to move back home to the states. A mutual friend named Im Jaebum reaches out to console her, lift her back up from her fragile state. It’s a push and pull tug between what she thought she had and what she could have.

“It’s alright, Is. Just keep your eyes straight ahead or focus on me, okay?” Jaebum whispered into my ear, his hand resting between my shoulder blades. I glanced up at him, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I love you, Jae.” I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek as I kissed him.

“Alright, love birds, let’s go.” Mark directed, patting Jaebum’s shoulder as he moved past us. He held his arm out for me to take and I did, letting out a deep breath, hoping I didn’t have a panic attack in front of everyone. The rest of the members walked out the doors, Jaebum and I at the very back. It seemed like every eye in the room was on us in that moment, my chest tightening in fear. As if Jaebum could feel it, he pulled his arm away and moved his hand to touch the bare skin of my back, rubbing gently as we walked.

“Just focus on my touch, Is. You’re okay.” he whispered into my ear, making my eyes flash up to his beaming face. I couldn’t hide the smile from my own face, his was absolutely infectious.

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Lights in the Shadow

I’ve always wondered what it was that brought Cullen to the point of turning on Meredith. I’m sure the process was a long one as the road to acknowledgement of one’s wrongs often is. This is definitely the beginning of a journey, and it’s definitely one that isn’t over by the time you finish Inquisition. 800 words. 

Also on AO3. 

Cullen isn’t sure when the circle began feeling like a cage, but it has. It doesn’t help that Meredith’s rule borders on tyrannical. Or maybe it does. He’s hardly sure these days.

But he knows what a cage feels like, and the Gallows is it. The feeling was almost imperceptible at first - the growing dislike turned into full blown loathing. He can’t even say when it began, only that the flaming sword no longer seems a mercy, but a judgement. He takes every opportunity to leave with too much enthusiasm, just for the chance to breathe freely again.

And then come these thoughts, quiet whispers, unbidden. They claw and rage as he tries to put them down, but some days they are stronger. They ask questions he doesn’t want to think about, things he’s vowed not to. What if leaving wasn’t an option? What might he do for a gulp of air untinged by the Gallows? What if he were a mage and sentenced to a life behind high stone walls? Each mage they capture has this look, and it’s one he knows well, betrayed by their own bodies their eyes are haunted, fearful. He is not unaware that all that separates him from his charges is the Maker’s will - whatever that is.

His armor feels heavy. Not like it did as a new recruit, all righteous duty and faithful service. No, it has grown heavy with something rancid. He longs for those quiet hours in his quarters when he removes the plate and becomes in the darkness, Cullen. Just Cullen. In those long hours of night, he barely sleeps, but he is himself and that is something more than he has felt in years.

Cullen has two types of mornings now, if he manages to sleep at all. Or perhaps it is just one kind, since they almost always start with old fears haunting, with nightmares that are never far away. There’s something about the still dark blue hours that draws them. He does not wake surprised anymore, he at least manages not to give them that.

Each morning, he finds himself reciting his prayers, and sometimes he feels them. Feels that sense of duty, that faith burning brightly. But more often he finds himself wondering, wandering. Is this truly what the Maker intended? This world, this life, this cage?

It doesn’t matter how the morning begins, the ritual before he leaves his quarters is the same. He reaches with a shaking hand for his philter, and wonders not for the first time, if once your sacrifices are made, if you are leashed until the day you die? Templars. Mages. The cage is different, but they are confined all the same.

He intercedes when he dares, which isn’t often enough. Meredith’s punishments are far too harsh, but he can’t look any mage in the eye now. He sees a reflection of himself, that longing for freedom, for a gulp of fresh air beyond stone walls. Following orders was easier when he believed they weren’t like him. Some days he still believes that they aren’t.  

When the Chantry explodes and Meredith plays her hand and challenges Hawke, a part of him - the part that he is when darkness falls - screams and thrashes for him to do something. He swore to protect, and he has not done enough. Never enough. He wonders if Cullen and Knight-Captain Cullen can exist in the same armor, same space. His sense of duty toils with his heart, but it wasn’t duty that sustained him in Kinloch and it won’t due to rely on that now. He turns his sword on Meredith.

It is hardly enough, but it is something.

Kirkwall is in chaos, he would have left if he could. To where he’s not sure, but then there’s no one else to keep order, to keep people safe. And after all, isn’t that what he vowed to do? As Kirkwall settles, the more lost he becomes, and when Seeker Pentaghast arrives it is almost as if she is Maker sent. She comes at the behest of the Divine, so maybe she is, though he’s hardly worthy of the Maker’s hand.

She offers him a different path. It is his heart he listens to again, hopes with and yearns with. He sets aside the templar armor, he’s not sure if he’s unworthy of it now or if it just doesn’t fit right anymore, but he leaves it behind all the same. The vambraces he keeps, strapped to his forearms like promises. They are a reminder too, of where he was, who he was, and who he is trying to be. The Divine intends to build a new world, and he wants to be part of it. To protect, but to ensure something too.

No more cages. For anyone.

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Kitten Claws || Stuart Twombly

Author: wittystiles

Relationship: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: Cursing.

Summary: Stuart and Reader decide to get a hamster. Their plan quickly changes.

A/N: Thank you to my wifey @ellie-bee242 for giving me this prompt and asking me to write something for Stuart. This is nonsense fluff and it’s cute I hope. Enjoy. 

Originally posted by feelingdylano

Stuart reluctantly followed behind you as you made your way through the outdoor shopping mall you’d pestered him to go to with you. His phone was clutched firmly in his left hand, and had you not have been holding his right, he would have most certainly gotten lost by now.

“What about going in here and getting you so-” You stopped your sentence mid word, turning your head to look at your boyfriend who was engrossed in his cell phone. He looked up when you stopped walking, raising his eyebrows a bit.

“You’re not mad at me because I’m not paying attention, are you?” He asked, lowering his hand a little, trying to slyly stuff his phone into his pocket as if he didn’t want to still be looking at it.

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courtyhinch  asked:

Macdennis 5. "This isn't just about you..."

“Can you stop being a self-absorbed asshole for a minute?” hisses Dennis.  The tips of his ears are going red. “You are incapable of taking care of a pet.”

“That is just not true, dude,” counters Mac, “I take really good care of Poppins.” A little old lady sits opposite them in the waiting room, clutching the handbag tucked in her lap as she watches Dennis’ mounting rage with barely-concealed interest. 

“I have seen that dog drink lighter fluid. Literally by the gallon,” insists Dennis, leg bouncing with annoyance. 

“Dude, relax,” says Mac, settling a hand on Dennis’ knee, “dogs can sense emotions through walls, man. They won’t like you if you’re angry.”

Good,” says Dennis, throwing his hands up, “let them hate me. You think I give a shit, Mac?”

“I don’t know, dude. Do you?” he gestures a little wildly, leaning forward in his chair, “I asked you if you wanted to come, and you definitely said no.” He narrows his eyes, assessing. “But you’re still here, Dennis. Why is that?”

“I said no to getting a dog, Mac! That’s what I said no to! I’m here,” he says, eyes going all intense and dangerous. Mac isn’t phased. “I’m here to stop you from getting a dog and putting it in our apartment. Which I own, by the way!” He flops back against the chair in annoyance. 

A tense pause. Opposite, the little old lady’s eyes dart between them. An arthritic finger taps on the faded leather of her handbag, loud in the silence. 

“Come on, Dennis,” says Mac, finally. He shifts so he’s facing Dennis, dropping his posture to grovel, just a little. Dennis’ profile doesn’t soften. “Dennis, come on, dude. It’s not gonna be one of those little bitchy dogs. Me and Charlie went past the park yesterday and he tried to bash one of the annoying tiny ones, ‘cause he thought it was a rat.”

Dennis huffs a laugh, smile gaining ground. It fades when he glances over at the doorway. Mac follows his gaze. 

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It’s this topic again.

I’m going to try to be civil about this, but this itself is a touchy topic in the arachnid community - handling tarantulas, to do it or not?

Fine, it’s a relatively docile tarantula like Grammostola pulchripes or Brachypelma albopisolum, and you’ve had it for years and you’ve made sure your spider is having a good day (aka not showing any defensive or threatening postures). You can handle that if you want to. I know some people would argue for no handling whatsoever, but as always individual spiders will have different personalities.

But there is a damn fine line between handling a New World tarantula (not including Psalmopoeus or Tapinauchenius species) versus an Old World tarantula.

I’ve already written my case HERE and HERE. I’d highly advise reading before adding any further comments.

(For those unfamiliar, New World = Western hemisphere, Old World = Eastern hemisphere)

I’ve been seeing a lot of videos and posts of people handling Old World tarantulas, or tarantulas of the Psalmopoeus and Tapinauchenius genera. Most have captions saying, “Do not try this! My own spider I can trust because I know their personality very well, etc. etc.” or “They just wandered out onto me when I opened the cage door, this doesn’t happen on an everyday basis”. That is somewhat better because these people are explaining what is going on, and are not ‘actively’ endorsing this sort of behavior. HOWEVER, there are places where these captions cannot be viewed OR the OP neglected to write one.

And this is bad - very bad for the arachnid community.

What’s even worse is that soon, if not already, some naive person might attempt to handle these tarantulas because “Hey, other people are doing it too!” and GET BITTEN. Or people will try it anyways for the ‘cool’ factor and get bitten (rightfully so).

People unfamiliar or afraid of spiders are going to use this against the community. And by all means we are PROVIDING them with more evidence of irresponsible behavior.

What happens when you finally get bitten by an Old World tarantula (or by a Psalmopoeus)?

  1. You stay at home and self-medicate, as the venom isn’t lethal but bad enough to make you feel really ill.
  2. You call the hospital (some people do this) because 1) IT HURTS and you’re scared (understandably) and/or 2) you’re having a bad reaction.
  3. The news may get out, and I can already hear the local news stations going NUTS over this.

Once the media gets a hold of YOUR careless mistake, they’re going to blow it out of proportions. YOU know this is what they’ll do, and no matter how much you’ll try to correct them or educate the masses on what really happened, they’re not going to give a shit. You know why? Because face it, a lot of people fear spiders. They don’t care if it was an accident - all they know is that SOMEONE got bit by a SPIDER, and one venomous enough to make you sick. THEY ARE GOING TO BE AFRAID. 

There are already regulations and restrictions in the United States. Some cities, like NYC, have banned keeping tarantulas entirely. Hawaii prohibits keeping tarantulas, and considers importation of tarantulas illegal. Other states, but not all, require permits in order to possess tarantulas.

I’m not going to be surprised if some day in the future the tarantula industry is gonna get SLAMMED. Careless handlers, keepers, and breeders will be the downfall of the industry, and if we aren’t going to be more careful about it lemme tell you this - we’ll be joining the reptile industry pretty damn soon if people can’t get their act together and be more responsible.

This isn’t the only thing that has been bothering me (e.g. illegal smuggling, release of captive tarantulas into the wild, profit over welfare, selling ‘advanced’ tarantulas to newbies WITHOUT EVEN TELLING THEM WHAT THEY ARE GETTING INTO, shitty husbandry, etc.), but it’s high on my list.

Luckily, most of my tarantulas will live 20+ years because - HAHA! - who knows what will happen in the future.

“Come Here Often?”

This was a prompt idea from the amazing @blacksheep33512 that I couldn’t unsee. The idea was to take the Garrus romance sequence from the Citadel DLC and put Reyes and Ryder into it instead. I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this, and I hope you all like it!

Artwork is by @blacksheep33512 

Reyes waited in his room at Tartarus, pacing the length of the couch. It’d been so long since he’d had an occasion to dress up that he found the collar of his white button-down shirt confining. He wanted to tug at it, to loosen its stranglehold on his windpipe, but he couldn’t. This was what Sara wanted, no matter how ridiculous he felt.

His omnitool beeped, and he looked down to see Kian’s message.

She’s at the bar.

God bless that man, he thought. Reyes took a moment to pull on the formal coat, buttoning it with jittery fingers. The jacket was cut in the long lines that were fashionable back on the Citadel when he’d left it in 2183. The collar was high and tight, and though it tried to suffocate him, he had to admit he looked good. The coat made him look taller, leaner than he really was, and with the white of his shirt collar beneath it, and the white trim details, he looked ready for a formal event.

Which was the point.

He checked that his hair was perfect, not a single black strand out of place, and then tugged at the hem of his coat, straightening it.

“All right, Vidal,” he murmured to himself. “Show time.”

Sara sat at the bar, chatting amicably with Kian. She knew the bartender and Reyes were friends and she was hoping that a well placed smile and kind words would convince the man to share some details about the ever mysterious Charlatan. But, Kian was impervious to her charms.

Movement on her left pulled her from their conversation, and she turned to see Reyes leaning casually against the bar. Her eyes widened as she took him in, the sharp lines of his coat hinting at the strength in his shoulders and chest, the tall collar accentuating his jawline. When she finally met his gaze he smirked at her, no doubt pleased by her obvious approval of his choice in formal wear.
“A Pathfinder on shore leave,” he drawled. He motioned for Kian to pour two drinks and then turned back to her. “You come here often?”

Sara bit back a smile as she took her drink from the bartender, who rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word. She took a drink, whiskey of course, before she answered him.

“I do. It’s a good place to blow off steam.” She smirked at him, and let her eyes wander around the club, lingering over the caged dancers. “Scenery’s not bad either.” She felt the weight of his stare, and her comment was rewarded with the faintest traces of a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Though,” she said, pitching her voice lower, dragging her eyes up and down his body. She really did like that suit on him. “The view in front of me is even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and grunted softly. “That supposed to melt a guy’s heart?” He asked, playing into his wounded pride at her wandering eyes.

She bit her lip, not entirely on purpose, and locked eyes with him. “No,” she said, leaning closer to speak in his ear. “But, this voice is.” She sat back, satisfied to see he’d closed his eyes at her words. “I’m Sara Ryder, Human Pathfinder, all-around human biotic and conquerer of worlds.” His lips twitched with humor at her title, but she wasn’t done yet. “Also, I kill Kett on the side. And you are?”

He sipped at his whiskey, the motion languid and self-confident. Perfectly controlled. “Reyes Vidal, smuggler.” He smirked at her, that patented Vidal the Smuggler expression, and Sara had to take a sip of her whiskey to keep from laughing.

“Vidal, huh?” She asked. “I might have heard a few things about you.”

His eyes slid over her, taking in the tight black dress, and the glittering angaran necklace that rested against her collar bone; a gift from Keema just for the occasion. And then his eyes were back on her, full of heat and mischief. “If they’re naughty, they’re right.”

There was a familiar, pleasant heat gathering between her thighs, and Sara didn’t have to try as hard to add a husky quality to her voice. “Well, I’m looking forward to finding out,” she said.

Reyes licked his lips and readjusted his grip on his whiskey glass, beads of condensation gathering under his fingertips. Those were the only hints at the arousal he felt at their little game, and then he shut it down completely, leaning away from her slightly.

“Uh-huh,” he said dismissively. He raised a dubious eyebrow at her. “And do most guys fall for that?”

The song changed, the driving beat of the electronic music fading away to something more subtle, slower and… familiar? She stared at him as the jazz song from their first dance in his room echoed through the club, but his expression never changed from one of mild interest as he waited for her reply.
She cleared her throat. “Well sure,” she said. “You know, this voice and, uh…”

Reyes grinned then. “Seems you’re all out of banter, Ryder.” He finished his whiskey and took her hand. “And since you’re speechless, you won’t be able to protest.” He tugged her out of her seat and onto the dance floor.

“What?” She screeched. “What are you doing?” She pulled against him slightly, desperate not to make a fool of herself for all of Tartarus to see.

Reyes looked back at her over his shoulder. “It’ll be fun,” he promised.

“No, no, no, no!” But it was too late. Reyes spun her out onto the floor before him, and it was a miracle she managed to keep her feet from tangling together in her strappy black heels. And then she was pressed against his chest, his arms firm as they wound around her, guiding her through the steps. “You’re going to pay for this later,” she hissed.

Reyes smiled as he spun her away from him, and with a sharp pull on her hand, brought her back. “Promises, promises,” he murmured, but his eyes were bright with humor and affection. He lead her through the dance, his feet sure as he placed them, his hands commanding and agile as he directed her movements.
They found their rhythm, the steps making sense to Sara as she let her body relax. He smirked. “There you go,” he said as she added an extra step with a flare of her hips.

She smiled, forgetting about the gathered crowd, the dancers who made way for them as they swept across the floor. And then she upped the ante. Sara let her hands wander while Reyes led them in sweeping circles. He moaned slightly as her mouth brushed his jaw before he spun her out and away from him. This time, when he pulled her back to him, she was ready.

With her weight in her toes, she twirled into him, her body flush against his as she lifted one leg to hook onto his hip, her hand in his hair. Reyes gasped, the sound just audible as the song ended, and he held her there, searching her face with wonder.

“So, tell me” she drawled. “You think a guy would fall for that?”

“Oh, hell yes,” he groaned. His eyes flicked down to her lips, but didn’t linger there. “You’ve been practicing.”

She shrugged as he released her leg, allowing her to stand on her own. “Lexi recommended yoga for stress relief,” she said. And then she leaned into him, her lips at his ear. “I’m betting it’s even better when you try it in bed.”

The look on his face guaranteed that he was determined to find out. He nodded to Kian and marched off the dance floor, Sara in tow as they hurried back up to his flat.

She chuckled as they stood in the lift, heading up to the port.

“What?” He asked.
She glanced at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I’d say our first ‘date’ was a great success,” she said.

His hand fell to the small of her back, guiding her out of the elevator as the door opened. As she stepped in front of him, his breath was hot in her ear.

“It’s not over, yet.”

anonymous asked:

Hey lovely, hope you are having an adventurous day!✨ Are you still doing the prompts? If yes could I please have #2 with a little bit of angst but still fluff and a shot of Sebastian Stan?😊💓

i did have an adventurous day! i hope you did too. i didn’t focus on anything major in this, but i’ll put some warnings anyway. its mostly hurt/comfort! here’s your drabble! 

warnings, since this could be sensitive to some: nightmares, kind of implied assault (it could be taken that way, so I put a read more link for this)

#2 -  “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

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Translation: Joker Game Drama CD A Parody Box Full of What-Ifs


So, here’s part two. The party animals. And…. I don’t know.

I don’t know anymore. If you’re going to read this, thank you. Join me in hell. Feel free to complain at me about this anytime, because I SWEAR TO GOD, JOKER GAME.

Warning: 3569 words of animal parody. Also, seriously, don’t repost anywhere. Thanks! 

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As an experiment I bought this cage online to see if it could work as an alternative to bins (I have difficulty making bin cages due to my disabilities for various reasons and have been looking for an affordable premade alternative). Pistachio stayed happily contained for two weeks before deciding to chew his way to freedom. I found him wandering around outside his cage but luckily he ran back in when I went to grab him.

So, the exo terra faunarium would make a nice transportation box, but it’s not good for housing mice long term.

Psychotic Mind

Member: Chen || EXO

Genre: Possessive/Obsessive Romance, Angst, Dark, Yandere!AU

Short Summary: Everything escalate to quickly to be controlled and now she bears the consequences of his psychotic mind.

A/N: To those who had waited patiently. Enjoy.

Words: 700

| Part 1 || Part 2 |

It has already been a couple of weeks since the last time she had been outside of his room and while the man did let her out of the cage and allowed her the freedom of wandering about in his house she decided it was better to barricade herself inside the room that he provided her.

“I’ve brought you some food, (Y/N).” he had said merrily upon entering the said room.

Silently, she simply wrapped her hands around herself and stared out of the window, observing the rooftops upon rooftops in the city of Seoul.

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The Jurassic World AU No One Asked For

The first piece I writing I’ve done on this blog is a Jurassic World AU where McCree trains velociraptors and Hanzo is his husband who supports him in is endeavors. Everyone is a little out of character (Maybe not McCree but just in case warning) in this but I hope it’s still good. Enjoy, everybody!


Hanzo was making lunch for him and his husband when he heard a car honk loudly from outside. He looked out the window to see Genji waiting for him. Hanzo walked out of his trailer before saying “Hello brother, where’s McCree?”

“He wanted to stay behind, but he sent me to get you,” Genji replied.

Hanzo scoffed slightly. “He’s training the velociraptors, isn’t he?”

Genji chuckled. “Yeah. You know how he is with them.”

“They’re his babies,” Hanzo said, grabbing lunch before stepping into the car. Genji drove them all the way to the compound. Genji then leads Hanzo to where McCree was. Hanzo smiled softly before noticing he was talking to four velociraptors.

“Okay, Charlie, back it up! Leave some room for Delta!” McCree barked. “Come on, Echo.” He cooed. “Blue won’t bite … unless I say to.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me he didn’t name them that.”

“Uh … I could tell you that, but then I’d be lying.” He sighed. Hanzo laughed to himself before he heard screeching and the velociraptors were running around again. Hanzo smiled to himself before a pair of arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Hello, beautiful.” McCree purred, nuzzling his neck.

“Hello love,” Hanzo said with a smile “You named the raptors Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Blue?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Anything wrong with that?”

“I don’t know,” Hanzo smirked, “You tell me.” Hanzo then started walking away from McCree only to be swept up in his arms again.

“How come you’re upset?” He whispered in his ear.

“I don’t know,” Hanzo sighed “I just sometimes think that you care more about the raptors than me.”

McCree frowned. “You know that’s not true.” He pulled Hanzo closer.

“I know,” Hanzo said, “Doesn’t stop me from thinking about it.”

McCree sighed. “Well, you don’t need to.” He kissed his cheek. “I’m yours and only yours.”

Hanzo smiled before planting a kiss on his husband’s lips. “Is there a place we can … you know …”

McCree laughed. “What about our trailer? Can’t we use that?”

“McCree, it’s half a mile down the road,” Hanzo pouted “Come on, let’s be adventurous.”

The brunette shook his head. “It’s too risky.”

“Since when?” Hanzo asked, “If I remember correctly you once fucked me across Jack Morrison’s desk.”

“Yeah, but that was indoors. Where nothing can get us.”

It took only a second for something to click in Hanzo’s mind. “Oh, I get it. Uh … let’s eat before you have to go back to work.” McCree nodded and hooked his arm around Hanzo’s waist, guiding him back. The pair talks the entire time they were together until Genji called McCree away for a second. When McCree was gone, Hanzo started to wander around. What he didn’t know was that he wandered into the training area and the velociraptors weren’t in their cages. Hanzo’s phone started vibrating and as he went to answer it, he noticed one of them staring straight at him. He dropped his phone and froze in fear. He tried to back away slowly only to find that he was surrounded. They narrowed their gaze at him, hissing softly only to yelp when McCree appeared, slamming into Blue and knocking her down. As soon as their beta was down, the other raptors immediately backed away with soft whimpers. Hanzo scrambled to McCree, trying not to hyperventilate, wrapping his arms around him. McCree pulled Hanzo closer, kissing him deeply before biting his neck suddenly. Hanzo gasped before glaring at McCree slightly and whispered “What are you doing?”

“I’m marking you as my territory,” McCree growled back. “If they recognize you as mine, then they’ll stop attacking you.” He pulled Hanzo closer to Blue, who flinched at McCree before relaxing when she realized he wasn’t going to hit her again. McCree pulled Hanzo’s wrist out for her to sniff, which she did carefully. Hanzo started to tense up, considering he had almost ended up a meal. Once Blue caught a whiff of McCree’s scent on Hanzo, she gave a grunt of approval before pulling away, recognizing Hanzo was McCree’s property. McCree relaxed and pulled Hanzo back to him.

Hanzo immediately wrapped his arms around him. “Please don’t let me go.”

McCree picked him up. “I won’t.” He murmured before carrying him back to camp.

“I was so scared,” Hanzo said, kissing McCree. “Thank you.” McCree returned the gesture but was oddly quiet.

Angela came running up with a medkit. “Hanzo. Are you hurt? Did you get mauled?”

“No, I’m fine,” Hanzo said.

“I just need to look you before we let you go,” Angela said.

“Oh, alright,” Hanzo said, “Uh, Jesse you can put me down.” The brunette gave a growl in reply, holding Hanzo tighter. Hanzo surprised at the action turned to Angela. “Can you give us a second?”

“Sure,” Angela said, walking away.

“McCree, what’s the matter?” Hanzo asked.

“Nothing.” He huffed.

“Okay, if nothing’s wrong then put me down,” Hanzo said. McCree gave another growl. Hanzo taken back a bit said “Jesse … are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” Hanzo just nodded and attempted to get out of McCree’s grasp only to have the brunette’s grip tighten around him.

“McCree, you need to let go of me,” Hanzo said.


“Why not?”

“… No.”

“McCree, that’s not an answer.”


“Let go of me,” Hanzo said, making a motion to leave.

“No,” McCree growled.

“If you’re not going to let me go, then can you at least take me home?” Hanzo asked him and McCree nodded, carrying him to the car. The pair drove home and when they got there, Hanzo said “Don’t you have to go back to work?”


“If you don’t have to go anywhere, then you’re going help me cook dinner,” Hanzo said giving McCree a soft smile.

McCree frowned. “But I suck at cooking.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Hanzo said, getting out of the car and walking into the trailer. McCree scowled but followed. Hanzo brought out some food to cook over the fire pit.

“Okay, I need to skin the potatoes, but you can chop the carrots,” Hanzo said look over to McCree who was just staring at him “Jesse?” The brunette immediately attacked him on the mouth, sliding his tongue into his mouth. Hanzo, surprised by the attack, returned the kiss, ruffling McCree’s hair as he allowed his tongue entrance. McCree shivered and pulled Hanzo closer.

Hanzo pulled away long enough to speak. “We should probably go inside.” McCree nodded before practically throwing Hanzo over his shoulder and carrying him inside their trailer.

(Please use your imagination to predict what happened in between, as I’m too lazy currently to write a sex scene)

McCree hummed happily as he trailed a hand through Hanzo’s hair. “I love you.”

Hanzo smiled at him. “I love you too.”

“That was fantastic.”

Hanzo chuckled. “No, you were fantastic. Maybe I should visit you at work more often.”

“Please don’t,” McCree growled.

“Why not?” Hanzo asked confused.

“I don’t want you in danger.”

“In danger, Jesse -”

“I don’t know, Hanzo, the danger of being eaten?!” McCree snapped.

Hanzo stared at him in hurt before looking away. “I’m sorry. I won’t visit you at work anymore.” Hanzo made a motion to move out of bed.

McCree sighed. “I’m sorry. I was just worried. When I saw you being cornered …” He grew pale.

Hanzo stopped before crawling back to McCree, “You were worried about me?”

“Of course, I was!” He growled. “I love you!”

Hanzo then hugged him and whispered, “I know, I’m sorry I put myself in danger like that.”

“It’s okay.” McCree sighed. “It was my fault. I should’ve taken you home.”

“Jesse, you love your work, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it,” Hanzo said, “If you weren’t there training them, I would have been eaten alive.”

“Exactly.” McCree snapped. “What if I’m not there next time?!”

“There won’t be a next time,” Hanzo said to him.

“I … Still … Accidents happen …” McCree mumbled.

“Jesse, remember when you first took this job and you told me we going to come here?” Hanzo said, “Remember how panicked I was, how I threaten to leave you and call off the wedding?”

He flinched. “… So?” His voice was bitter.

“Today, when you were worried about me, I’ve been worried and scared for you every day since we’ve been here,” Hanzo said “I was always scared that one-day Genji would drive up and say there was an accident, and you weren’t around anymore; Hell, when you sent him today I feared for the worse.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to me.” McCree sighed.

“I didn’t know that,” Hanzo shrugged “Until I saw you today with Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Blue.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way they interacted with you,” Hanzo said, “They’re almost like kids.”

“Exactly. They are my kids.” McCree frowned. “For god’s sake, I raised them! I saw them hatch!”

“I know,” Hanzo said, “And now I don’t have to worry about you anymore.”


“No buts,” Hanzo said pecking McCree’s lips “I love you, and I know you’ll do remarkable things with them.”

“Okay …” McCree mumbled.

“Now, if we’re done talking about this,” Hanzo said lowering his voice “Maybe we can have some more fun.”

“Up to you.” He purred.

“I think we should, Jesse,” Hanzo purred.

McCree laughed. “Fine.” He swung Hanzo into his arms and carried him back to the bedroom.