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#and then i end up finishing the fic around midnight and have to blindly look for a quote to use as the title 💔💔 agony.

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months

Note

HIHIHI ARI!!! MY LITTLE SWEET IRIS MY DEAR BELOVED!!!! DID U SLEEP WELL? how is the gojo fluff coming along? are the words working with you? (they better be smh!!!) anyway anyway i am here to thank u for ur words. sleepy sugu swims in my head and everytime he speaks it's just your words that are coming out idk u guys are kind of One in my head i think... YOUR WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME I AM HOLDING THEM IN MY PALM N I AM NUZZLING AGAINST THEM OK!

btw i was thinking whether he'd say please in the end too or not... bc i think he wouldn't wanna come off as too bossy? but then i decided to not put it in bc i think his tone would already indicate that. a very very silent plea....

and hahshshahaha i'm glad u liked the silly little poetry lines too that made me feel so warm WAHHHHHHHHHH okeoke i'm giving u a big hug and a wet fucking smooch on ur forehead MWAHHHH thank u for existing my love<3333333333333 i hope ur day will go sunnily that is not a word but i am making it into one rn the sun will warm u always always always

- @catchuuu

MICKEYYYY MY ANGEL MY LITTLE SUNFLOWER SEED good morning to u too !!!! <333 i slept like a fucking log LMAO i had to drag myself out of bed.. almost fell asleep on my way out …….. i think i had a scary dream but it was fine i snoozed a bunch I HOPE YOUR SLEEP WAS JUST AS SOFT <333

and wahhh thank YOU sm for writing it 🥺🥺🥺 AND FOR THE TAG I ALMOST EXPLODED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY NOTIFS mickey!sugu is such a gift i love him sm :(((( pls kiss his little head for me.

“u guys are kind of One in my head i think” I’M SO HONOURED?????? it’s crazy that u say that too bc i 100% associate soft sleepy satoru with u 😭😭 i’m writing the fic rn and i’m just constantly going… ohhh mickey might like this line….. i wonder if i can make mickey cry if i make toru cute enough………. this part is very mickeycoded…………… PHDJSP u get what i mean. the duo is duoing <3333

AND AND AND!! that’s such a good question tbh….. i agree with u i think that under normal circumstances sugu would say please bc he is in fact a big ol people pleaser smh BUT…. when he’s so sleepy and unguarded i think it would just kinda slip out :((( it’s desperate in a way!! he just needs to feel u. he’d explode if u stopped. :((((

i think that when you get down to it sugu is a bit of a brat tbh.. he’s similar to satoru he just hides it better. but i think he’s such a sweet whiny little clingy brat when he truly trusts u <3333 when you guys have been dating for a while he’s flopping down on you like a big dog and asking so sweetly if u could play with his hair pls 🥺🥺…. if you tease him or decline he starts demanding it though PHDJDBD … “i do so much for this family and you can’t even spare a minute out of your day to appreciate me” IT WAS NEVER THAT SERIOUS SUGU ??? I WAS JUST JOKING ??????? he’s the silliest man alive… (the “family” in question is u + ur three cats btw <33 he’s a cat dad. it’s canon.)

#MICKEY ILY I HOPE YOUR DAY IS WONDERFUL !!! i hope it goes sunnily even <333 thats a great word im gonna use it now #thank u for the ask it reminded me to work on the fic …. im the type who procrastinates until last minute phshdhhd 😭😭#and then i end up finishing the fic around midnight and have to blindly look for a quote to use as the title 💔💔 agony.#THANK U FOR EXISTING i appreciate u i am spinning you around happily :33 #(trying my hardest not to drop u bc i have actual noodle arms but ill work out just for u <33)#ask tag ✩#mickey !! ✩

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missmungoe · 1 year

Note

I know you’re still recovering from Mnemosyne (BEAUTIFUL HEART WRENCHING AMAZING WONDERFUL WORTH-THE-WAIT CHAPTERS BTW SO GRATEFUL FOR YOUR EXISTENCE) so please don’t feel pressured b u t… if you have any snippets of the next Moon and Her Maiden chapter you feel comfortable sharing ..🥺👉👈 IM SORRY BUT THAT LAST ONE ENDED SO AMAZINGLY AND IM DYING TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

HI, please know how happy this made me, and of course I have a snippet! I'm actually very close to finishing this fic, so here's a little peek:

It comes with a price

He followed the road inland, the same path he’d walked the night she’d been taken, although this time he wasn’t searching blindly, following instead the trail of her presence, like a moonlit thread through his mind and the dark.

She’d followed the road out of the village, past the darkened windmills where they loomed, before she’d climbed one of the fences and crossed the field into the forest. If it hadn’t been for his haki, Shanks didn’t think he would have been able to follow her, with no obvious path or tracks to guide his way, and with the canopy blocking out the moon it was almost too dark for him to see.

He was starting to wonder if he should have brought a lantern when the canopy suddenly opened, allowing a shaft of moonlight to pierce it, right onto the still surface of a forest pond, and he paused in his tracks, seeing the small figure standing before it.

Her back was turned towards him, her clothes in a heap around her ankles and her slender frame outlined by the moon. It spilled over her skin, the silver spots across her shoulders apparent, and the still-pink scar where it cut like a sickle moon between her shoulder blades.

He knew she’d already sensed him coming, and saw her turn towards him where he’d emerged from the shadows of the trees into the clearing. She had her sealskin in her hands, the supple pelt shimmering like her skin.

She’d removed her kerchief, her short hair gently tousled where it brushed the tops of her cheekbones. The eyes beneath were bottomless, although for once, he couldn’t discern if the feeling in them was surprise or trepidation, finding him there. But then this wasn’t like waiting for her by the shore, his eyes shut in offering. He’d come into her realm now, eyes wide open, as brazen as the sailors from the songs, who stole the maidens of the moon for their wives.

“The old girl told me where you were,” Shanks said, and saw her brows knitting in surprise.

“Suzume-san did?”

He nodded, before he looked at the pond, and coming closer, “Going for a midnight swim?” he asked, hoping his smile might ease some of the tension that had crept between them.

Makino didn’t answer, and his heart sank, wondering if he’d overstepped when he’d kissed her in the storeroom earlier.

But looking up from the sealskin in her hands to him, it wasn’t fear he found in them, or at least not for him as Makino said, “I was going to try to change.”

Something about the way she said it struck him as odd, and frowning, he was trying to figure out what was off about it when realisation hit him, without kindness.

“You haven’t tried,” Shanks said.

She shook her head, and his heart constricted when she confessed, “I don’t know if I still can.”

The beat that followed was heavy, holding the weeks that had passed since her capture, a full moon cycle, and the nights he’d waited by the docks, hoping she’d show. He’d thought she’d been nervous about seeing him in her seal-shape, or that she wanted to wait until her stitches had healed. He hadn’t thought she’d been afraid she couldn’t do it anymore.

“Your stitches are perfect,” Makino said, dragging his eyes up from her sealskin, as though his silence had suggested that they might be the reason. “I don’t even have evidence that there’s anything wrong, I just…haven’t been able to bring myself to try.”

Her eyes lifted from her pelt to his, and the fear in them struck him as hard as it had, that moment outside her bar when the bandit had tried to slice it open. “What if I can’t?” she asked, the slight quaver in her voice making his hands clench. “I don’t know who I am without my pelt.”

His look softened.

Crooking a knuckle, Shanks tipped her chin. Her eyes were as dark as the pond, unearthly in their depth and beauty, and yet there was nothing but human feeling in them, open and vulnerable.

“You’re you,” he said. His eyes roamed her face, but for all that the fae were hailed as coy, cunning creatures, he’d never met anyone as guileless. “With or without your powers.” His thumb brushed her chin, beneath her bottom lip where it trembled. “But I understand why you’re scared. I don’t know how I’d feel if I lost something so deeply connected to who I am.”

Her eyes hadn’t let go of his, and he saw the tears brimming in them, even as she didn’t let them fall.

He watched as they lowered to the sealskin, held between them. He could see the place where the bullet had torn through it, the moonlight illuminating the scar, twin to the one on her back. He’d spent a whole day mending it, trying his best to make it as seamless as he could, but even then his stitches had left a mark.

“This is one of my favourite places,” Makino said then, looking up from her pelt to the still pond. Flowers grew thickly by the riverbank, blue forget-me-nots gleaming like stars against the mossy undergrowth, and a slender river cut through the clearing, gurgling quietly where it crawled between the stones to feed the pool where they were standing, the surface like a black mirror to the moon’s round face, although it wasn’t the one that held his eyes captive, her gentle features painted by the light.

“It’s beautiful,” Shanks said.

Her smile tilted, a little sad, and he didn’t understand why until Makino said, “I was going to bring you here.” Dark eyes met his, as gentle as her words. “To show you.”

His eyes widened, but of course―she’d mentioned a pool, that sunny day with Luffy on the docks when she’d asked him to go walking with her.

He didn’t know how he would have reacted, if the incident with the bandits had never happened, and the way she’d revealed herself to him had been here, on her own terms. And while she’d told him why she’d hidden it for so long, it said something about how much she’d trusted him even then, to want to bring him somewhere like this. Like the hidden cove, it was an offering; a part of herself shared with him that no one else had seen.

But while he couldn’t change what had happened, or make it so that her powers still worked, there was one thing he could control. Like the blindfold, he could even the balance between them; a barter, if only to put them on even ground.

“What are you doing?” Makino asked, as he shrugged off his cloak, before he reached to unbutton his shirt, until it joined it on the ground next to her clothes.

Toeing off his sandals, “Stripping,” he chirped, and her eyes sprung wide when he reached for the waistline of his pants, flashing her a rakish grin. “Fair is fair.”

Shucking them with characteristic panache, the fierce blush deepening her cheeks banished some of her otherworldliness, her beautiful features reshaping with an unmistakably human mortification as her eyes darted away from his naked body, and his cock, cheerfully erect where he’d propped his hands on his hips, but before she could object, he’d dived into the pond.

He cut the mirror surface smoothly, the freezing cold water hitting him like a thousand needles, before he resurfaced with a gasp, swearing, “Fffffucking hell, that’s cold! Oh my god, I think my balls just retreated back into my body.”

The startled laugh that blurted from her was muffled by the pelt, her cheeks fairly glowing where she’d pressed it to her face, but it couldn’t hide her grin where he found it in her eyes, as helpless as his own, seeing it.

Pushing his dripping hair back from his face, he swam towards the bank where she stood. The pool was deep enough that he was only able to stand towards the shallow edges, the middle like a black hole, sucking up the moonlight where it spilled through the branches.

Smiling, Shanks held out his hand. “Are you coming in, seal-maiden?”

He saw her eyes darting to it, indecision shaping her beautiful features, so wonderfully expressive, he still couldn’t believe she’d kept her identity a secret from him for so long, even with his eyes shut.

But they were open now, and he watched her shifting expressions hungrily, and saw when she decided, her soft mouth firming, before she drew her sealskin around her shoulders.

Then Makino placed her hand in his, and closing his fingers around it, Shanks drew her into the water.

It pulled her in, as though welcoming her, and he wondered, transfixed, how he hadn’t noticed it the time they’d gone swimming, how naturally she held herself in the water. Or rather, how unnaturally, an otherworldly grace that even a girl who’d been swimming her whole life couldn't have boasted.

Of course, there’d been other things distracting him that night, like how she’d looked in the rain, her soaked chemise clinging to her body, although looking at her now, the pale silk replaced with moonlight and her silver pelt, he was hard pressed to say which was more captivating, but then maybe it was just her.

He’d reached out before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing the pelt where it covered the top of her head, as soft as he remembered, but Makino didn’t withdraw, only let him touch it.

It dipped into her brow, and lifting it enough to bare her eyes, “You don’t have to try tonight,” Shanks said, observing her where she floated, too short for her feet to reach the bottom, but then she didn’t even need to tread water. “But if you want to, I'm the only one here.”

Makino watched him, the pelt pushed back enough to see her face, unchanged from how he knew it, but even then there was a feyness about her that left no mistake now about what she was, wrapped in water and moonlight.

He watched as her eyes slipped shut, and she seemed for a moment to retreat into herself, a calm overtaking her as she let her breath go. Shanks felt it in her presence, as still as the pond around them, not even a ripple to disturb the mirror surface.

Then her eyes opened, meeting his, and this time they were so dark they’d swallowed the white around them. And he’d seen her transform, that terrifying moment on the deck of his ship after she’d been shot, but it was something else to see her change now, not out of necessity but because she wanted it.

Her skin glowed, first silver, then a bright, brilliant white, as though she became for a moment moonlight in its purest form, illuminating the whole clearing, before she changed, her slender frame shrinking, reshaping into a figure he’d only glimpsed a few times before, in the cove and through the underwater shadows.

The brilliance dimmed, leaving her in her seal-form, the tiny, sleek creature that bore no resemblance to her human shape, even as Shanks still found her, in the dark, bottomless eyes and the way she floated in the water, and her presence, unchanged now that she wasn’t concealing herself.

He heard her voice within, the unbridled joy in it rippling through him like laughter.

It worked!

His grin widened, hearing her whooping delight within him, and his chuckle was softer than he was known for as she vanished under the surface, darting around him once, and with such breathtaking grace it left him unable to do anything but watch as she resurfaced further out, a sleek shadow, before she dived under again, and so silently she barely stirred the pond.

He felt her brush against his thigh as she circled him once, before darting between his legs, and so swiftly it took his haki just to keep track of her, and even then she was faster, as the little seal suddenly resurfaced right in front of him, the transformation releasing her, and so quickly it was only a split second before Makino was there, her voice aching with joy, “It worked!”

She threw her arms around his neck, and his eyes widened, caught so off guard he nearly forgot they were swimming.

Startled, his arms wrapped around her, the sudden and intimate contact jolting through him like he’d been shot.

His heart held, feeling her in his arms, her delicate figure flush against his and nothing but water between them, and knew she could feel his reaction, rock hard where it pressed against her, but she didn’t draw away.

Holding her, his hand shook where it spanned the sickle scar between her shoulder blades, covering it whole, and his chuckle was soft as he tucked his nose into her neck, hugging her close. She was so small, but then he knew her shape with his eyes shut, every delicate line and curve, had charted it with his hands, and found it now as he remembered, that first night on the docks, and in the cove, and his cabin.

He felt as the slender arms loosened from around his neck, and fought his instinct to pull her back, but she didn’t let go, as small hands cupped his cheeks. Water clung to his lashes, but he saw her clearly, the moonlight spilling down her body and his, and her eyes were as dark as the water, but this close, the tips of their noses brushing, Shanks found the gentler brown in them.

They slipped shut, and drawing his face down, as gently as the first time she’d done it, Makino kissed him.

Above, the moon watched them through the branches, her marble face as impassive as ever, but if she was upset with him for stealing one of her maidens, Shanks didn’t care.

And feeling the smile that shaped the soft lips under his, thought the maiden in question didn’t much mind the theft.

―

“Red-Hair?”

The deep bow made the collar around his neck fall forward, the heavy metal yielding a soft clank. “Our investigation proved fruitful, Your Excellency,” said his advisor. “We have eyewitnesses placing him in Goa that night, and he fits the description of your brother’s killer. A swordsman in a black cloak, wearing a straw hat. We did some digging, and he is apparently quite renowned. In fact…”

The rustle of paper drew his gaze, as a wanted poster was proffered, slid across the table towards him.

His eyes widened.

“One billion?”

His advisor bowed deeper. “In addition to his own deeds, he is a former crewmate of the Pirate King.”

His eyes lifted from the wanted poster, and the scarred face above the row of numbers. “Gold Roger?”

His advisor nodded. “His crew, too, is quite formidable. His first mate in particular.”

He considered Red-Hair’s wanted poster. “And he’s been here this whole time?”

Another nod. “It appears he has made a base of sorts. A port on the other side of the island. Fuschia is the name.”

“That backwater dump?” When his advisor nodded, “What does a pirate like Red-Hair want in a place like that?”

“Perhaps he is seeking to usurp the throne,” his advisor suggested. “He would not be the first pirate to attempt a coup.”

“I couldn't care less about Goa Kingdom or its so-called ruler,” said the Celestial Dragon. “But we cannot have it getting out that a pirate killed a Celestial Dragon. It would give the people ideas that just anyone can harm us, and that we can be usurped as mortal kings. We are not mortals; we are gods.”

Another deep bow, his brow nearly touching the floor. “Indeed, Your Excellency.”

Turning to the window, the dark sea looked back, and the full moon. To think that even the filthy commoners in this part of the world could see her splendour, and as clearly as they could from the Holy Land. Truly, a jest of the gods.

“Is Red-Hair still in port?” he asked, and heard him nodding when his collar shifted.

“His ship has not left, Your Excellency.”

“Good,” he said, his eyes on the full moon where she bathed on the horizon’s edge.

“See that it never does.”

#Shanks x Makino #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Makino #One Piece Makino #Shanks/Makino #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #fanfic #fanfiction #opfanfic #Selkie AU #mungoe writes

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mochiimiiki · 3 years

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| Act one: Possibility |

[Xiao x F!reader]

[Pyro vision reader]

Summary: Feelings are something of a concept, humans determine their meaning and everyone else simply accepts. But what if he has no concept of emotions and you’re in denial? What becomes of it then?

Warnings: spoilers for xiao’s story, angst, violence, blood, slow burn

A/N: first time writing a proper fic sooo be nice! also italics are being used for past events!!

Masterlist

- - - - - -

Your encounter was an accident. A mistake, a flaw in the matrix. However, It was a memory you held onto even after all of those years. Staring across Dihua Marsh, your mind couldn’t help but wonder, wonder all the way back to the vigilant yaksha. Whom refused to converse his name. His real name.

It was in the depths of night where the demons lurked, and as an adventurer you often encountered such mutated creatures. It was not your duty to defend the land nor protect the innocent from the midnight stalkers. Yet, you felt obligated to. Perhaps it was a form of misconception or the chivalry in which your father had brought you up with. Nevertheless, you found yourself stalking a possessed abyss mage. In hopes of vanquishing it before the mutant could perform damage upon any civillians.

The moon guided you, luring you to where the beast crept. Through squinted eyes, you could just about see a sleeping village a few hundred metres from where you stood. Determination pumped through your veins, urging you onwards with a singular goal; vanquish your opponent.

In the brief moments that you were distracted the target had vanished. Frantically, you begun searching. ‘Where’d it go...?’ You breathed to yourself. Fear creeping along your spine and infecting your mind.

Suddenly, a cryo shot sent you flying back into a rock. Your back hit it with a thud and the wind was knocked from you. Dazed it took you a moment to adjust your senses. As your vision became focused you quickly rolled out of the way as another cryo shot narrowly missed you. Reaching for your bow you aimed at the abyss mage.

You scoffed. A cryo abyss mage? The fight would be over in no time. Your bow charged quickly and you launched your attack. You jumped with glee, You’d hit the shield directly in a patch you’d grown accustomed to know as a weak spot. However, as the steam cleared from the melt combination you realised you’d done little to no damage. The unsettling anxiety seeped it’s way into your heart once more. “I-Impossible!” You declared, to no one in particular. “I hit you!” The abyss mage let out a low chuckle. It’s sonar voice vibrating off of the trees and rocks that littered your midnight hunt. However, you realised something was off with this mage. Not only was it’s voice an octave lower but a strange black mist eminated from its being. Was it possible this was the kind of creature your father had warned you about...?

Before you got a chance to react the abyss mage launched you backwards once more. This time you landed in the soggy pits of the marsh. You blindly fumbled with your bow attempting to ignite it with your pyro element. However, the dampness of both yourself and the weapon caused evaporate. You silently cursed. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening not now, not when you were so close. Repeatedly you tried again. Only looking up as you heard the familiar chuckle of your enemy.

Squeezing your eyes shut you begged Rex Lapis to not let your life end so soon. You had so much to learn! So many places to be and you still had to find the truth of...

You thoughts came to an abrupt end.

Suddenly, a gush of wind sped past your face, in turn your eyes shot open. It was just in time too, as you witnessed your saviour.

In the moonlight his hair appeared dark grey and his clothings multiple shades of silver however, black and turquoise mist eminated off of his being. Your eyes widened in shock as one blast of his power shattered the cryo abyss mage’s shield. “EVIL CONQUERING!” He cried throwing it back into the same rock it had once thrown you into.

Pulling enough energy from your damaged body you limped over to your saviour. “You saved me!” Exclaiming in delight. “How did you... no I should be thanking you! Thank-” Yet, before you could continue your praise a final blast of cryo hit you from the dying mage. Falling to the ground you felt your senses dim. Blurry vision caught sight of your masked hero finishing off the job only to finally pass out. A deep, charcoal black enveloping you in an everlasting grip.

- - -

Upon awakening you had found yourself placed in a bed in a familiar building. One you had only viewed on the outside: Wangshu Inn. Clambering out of the comfort of the bed you stumbled to the doorway.

A violet sky was clear from the room in which you occupied. Dim stars twinkled as a rouge sun dawned. You stumbled over to the balcony, confusion clouding your thoughts and erroding the pain.

You collapsed onto the railing of the balcony, thanking the red painted wood for the sturdiness it granted. You glanced out across Dihua Marsh. It’s landscape accentuated by the red light from the dawning sun, her face glowing brightly and guiding adventurers and monsters alike into the unknown.

“What are you doing?” A low voice growled behind you. Instantly you jumped from the disturbance to the peace, immediately after regretting it as a sharp pain jolted through your side. Glancing down your eyes settled upon a bandage wrapped around your waist. You realised the only material shielding you against the harshness of the cool autumn morn was the bandages that started at your chest and ending at your waist. Instantaneously a flush crept over your face and along your neck. “Y-You did this? Pervert!” You shouted, a finger pointing accusingly.

For a moment the boy appeared taken aback before scoffing. “First of all.” He growled taking a menacing step towards you. “I didn’t do that.” He glanced down, taking another step. “Second I saved your life, so even if I had you should have been grateful.” Another step. “And last of all, it was the Inn keeper who helped you. You can thank her later.” He was inches away from you, his brows furrowed in irritation and it was clear your comment had irked him.

You swallowed thickly and uncomfortably. You pushed against his chest, attempting to create distance between himself and you. However, he remained rooted in place. Whether, or not he intended to intimidate you or was simply setting straight facts you were unsure of.

Eventually, he acknowledged your efforts and with a grunt stepped backwards. You tried to steady your thoughts, and clear your mind. Up until now you’d been thinking irrationally and it had ended with you in a critical state.

You opened your mouth to speak once more when with a dismissal of his hand the man spoke first, “Unfortunately, there are other matters that require my assistance. If you’ll excuse me.” Though he seemingly asked for his departure you knew that it was more of a statement than a request. “W-wait!” you cried suddenly, grasping his wrist as he leaped onto the railing of the Wangshu inn.

The man stared puzzlingly at your hand, almost in a way that suggested he’d never been touched by a mortal before. “I didn’t ask your name.”

“I go by many names.” The figure retorted bluntly, an action that caused your hand to retract and your face to drop. With a sigh he spoke once more, his tone etched with a little less aggression. “However, you may call me vigilant Yaksha Xiao. Or for short Xiao. Should you ever need my help, or cannot face killing a monster call my name. I will aid you.”

With that he vanished before your eyes. Taking on the form of shadows and fleeing into the Abyss.

- - -

Staring across the Marsh now it appeared so different. Not only had it been two years since your return to Liyue but it was also daytime upon your arrival, a splintering summer sun sparkled brightly amongst the leaping clouds. It suddenly occurred to you amongst your reminiscing that you had never gazed upon the marsh in the daylight. To bestow it the title of breath taking was an understatement, to simply put it, it was exquisite. How the summer rays of light bounced across the murky waters of the marsh and that they illuminated the once gloomy surroundings. It was a sight to behold, it was beyond enchanting as it bewitched its onlookers and lured them to an untimely death.

“Ma’am?” A voice called for you, intruding your thoughts. She gave you a gentle smile, one you knew was plastered on to appease customers. “Your room is ready madam.” She spoke so softly that had you been immersed in a conversation with another you may not have heard her. You exchanged a polite nod as she led you up the stairs of the Wangshu Inn.

Despite your absence from Liyue for two years the Inn had not particularly changed. It was still lined in the same ruby red railings albeit faded to a salmon blush. And it had the same wooden floors, that creaked and squeaked ever so slightly under foot.

“Here is your room, I hope you enjoy your stay.” Quietly excused the girl as she departed. Leaving you standing alone in the doorway to a room too large to fit a single person.

Hauling in your luggage you flopped down onto the bed. The scent of Fresh linen tickled your nostrils, a particularly summery smell.

As the night progressed you had departed from your room and explored a little more of the grounds belonging to the Wangshu Inn. Fully satisfied with your miniature expedition you retired to the cafe and settled in for a long night.

- - -

The evening wore on tranquility reflected in the expressionless faces of the Inn stayers and keepers alike. As the café grew quieter you had taken it upon yourself to mark out your journey on your map. Small red exes marked the spots of your previous journeys, and although you wanted to pursue the land of the unmarked you had unfinished business to complete in Liyue harbour. Tapping your pencil on the page as you pondered your next move a shout caught your attention. Your quiet night had come to an abrupt end when a face you believed you’d never set your eyes on again appeared before you.

It was the dead of night. The only two souls that remained in the lobby of the Inn were you and the owner’s wife. When suddenly, a third party joined.

In stumbled an extremely battered and bruised man. His hair was knotted in scruffs and a deep gash seeped into the skin in his chest. With a startled cry the woman behind the reception desk ran to his side.

You stared in horror into the cat like eyes of this man. A flash of a familiarity flickered in them, in a brief possibility that he recognised you a bubbling emotion of hope fluttered in your stomach. However, the feeling was all but short lived as his eyes fluttered closed and he collapsed, toppling to the floor. Completely unconscious.

#genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin traveler #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #design #genshin childe #genshin impact xiao #anime #xiao headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiaolumi #xiaoven #zhongli headcanons

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snitches-at-dawn · 3 years

Text

draco fucking malfoy || d.m.

a/n: hi : ) i’m liza :) this is my first fic here and the first thing i’ve written in about a year apart from my uni assignments.

this is a soulmate!draco x reader, 1.6k words.

please please do give me any sort of criticism! it’s highly appreciated :) i hope you enjoy this fic!

find part 2 here and the alternative ending here

draco fucking malfoy. the bloody bastard.

you glared at him across the hall as he and his flunkies guffawed unattractively. what you wouldn't give to shove his wand up hi-

"(y/n)?" harry snapped his fingers in front of your face. you jerked out of your daydream of physically harming malfoy to the boy sitting besides you, "you're making it snow you git."

you blinked and looked above you to see soft snow flakes falling on your table. absentmindedly you brushed it off harry's hair.

"what were you thundering on about this time?" he asked.

you shook your head, "nothing important," but harry had seen your eyes on the slytherin with hair as white as the layer of snow on your shoulders. his eyes lit up mischievously, "nothing wouldn't happen to be snogging puggy parkinson would he?"

"he could pants her and fuck her in reverse on the ruddy table for all i care," you muttered as you refrained from looking at him to confirm harry's words, and reached for the coffee carafe to fill up a to-go mug.

"so you don't mind that you have to sit for potions with him in 20 minutes?" harry asked as you both got up to start your trek to the dungeons.

"not at all," you replied instantly, throwing a furtive glance at the slytherin table to ensure 'nothing' wasn't snogging anyone, "although i am quite excited to see what slughorn's like."

you and harry chattered with hermione and ron who had caught up with you all the way to the dungeons about the newest addition to the hogwart's staff. the four of you entered the room previously occupied by snape which somehow seemed less gloomy- coincidence? maybe.

as the rest of your class filled in, you noticed that there were only a dozen of you progressing to NEWT level. sadly, that included draco fucking malfoy. harry smiled at you comfortingly as she realised who you were glowering at. "it's okay," he mouthed at you as slughorn entered the room.

the round-bellied man introduced himself, directed harry and ron to the back of the room to pick up extra copies of the prescribed text, and carried on with his idea of an impressive first class.

he walked around the room questioning the class on the potions he had prepared, only being answered by hermione whose hand hit the air well before anyone else's. as he reached the third potion, you recognised it immediately as amortentia- you had read about it in a book about potion-making history and answered before hermione could.

"that's amortentia, sir, a love potion."

"indeed it is ms. ...?"

"(y/l/n), sir," you supplied for him.

"alright ms. (y/l/n), if you could step up and tell me two characteristics and what you smell?"

you walked over to the front of the class, "it's most recognisable by it's distinct mother of pearl sheen and steam rising in spirals, sir," you paused to take a sniff but were momentarily stumped. taking another sniff you said bewildered, "i can smell morning dew on grass, sir, but nothing else."

"no matter, m'girl, take five points for your answer, and five for you too ms. granger," slughorn said without missing a beat.

you turned around to see hermione in a sort of daze and snorted to yourself, then saw almost everyone in your class with the same hypnotised look.

everyone except draco fucking malfoy.

git was leaning back in his chair pretending to examine his fingernails as if you couldn't tell he was covertly watching you.

slughorn cleared his throat as you rammed your elbow into your best friend's side to drag him back to reality and away from his daydream which you supposed was about ginny. harry glared at you as the other students refocused on potions.

the rest of the class passed in a haze as you blindly followed harry and you thought on what you had smelt- morning dew on grass. not dean thomas, your current crush. not a new car. not the familiar smell of your dad's cologne or mum's perfume. not leather or the wood of broom or coffee or any smell that you associated with your favourite people. not even- draco?

you tried to cut your sopophorous bean which promptly flew across the room- right to where the slytherins were sitting, where draco fucking malfoy was sitting. you retrieved it, purposefully slowing down a tiny bit to try to get a whiff of the blonde, wondering if you had forgotten what he smelt like.

nope, still smelt like a git.

a git whose scent threw you back to that night on the astronomy tower where he unceremoniously ended your two year relationship the day before the year ended in your fifth year.

~throwback~

"i dunno, (y/n), it's just not feeling right anymore, you know?"

"no i bloody well do not. elaborate for me," you spat at him.

you could almost see his guards go up.

"there's no reason for you to snipe at me, (y/n)"

"i'll do what i want draco. you don't give me explanations, i won't give you an explanation."

draco's face hardened as he clenched his fists- you knew he was getting riled up. good. you wanted to piss him off right now.

he took a deep breath and walked towards you, lifting his hand as if to touch you somehow but you flared your nostrils and he shoved it in his pocket.

"i don't know what to say, (y/n), it's just feeling... off," he finished lamely.

you stared at him incredulously, "you didn't seem to be feeling off two days ago when we were shaggi-"

"because we were fine then!" he said quickly.

you crossed your arms over your chest and took a step towards him with your eyes narrowing, "so in forty-eight hours you did a full one-eighty about the past two years", your voice was dangerously soft and steady, not letting on how angry you felt.

he raked his hands through his silky soft hair and shrugged.

"nothing to say anymore? alright then, i'll talk. the yule ball. two years of birthdays, anniversaries and hogsmeade trips. the countless letters from home we dealt with. the-"

"is there a point to this?" draco asked coldly.

you laughed lowly, "the point is that you seem to have forgotten two years of memories, draco malfoy. if you had a solid reason for doing this, i might not have cared so much, but the fact that you can't even give me a reason makes me realise what a coward you are. the great draco fucking malfoy can't even dump his girlfriend properly," you stepped back and gave him a once over, "pathetic."

and you left him on the tower.

alone.

when you shook out of your stupor you were at your desk. you saw harry crush his bean and followed suit. ron coughed violently over his cauldron making you look at him- but someone else caught your eye. draco was watching you.

you casually flipped him off with your eyes trained on the textbook as you flipped to the next page with your other hand.

you somehow finished your potion ending up with a milky solution rather than the clear result you should have had. you peered into hermione's cauldron which was purple, the contents of rons' resembled cement but harry's was startlingly similar to the book's description.

the four of you walked out of class with harry gripping the vial of 'liquid luck' rather tightly.

at dinner that day, ron turned to you, "so are you excited to find out who your soulmate is?"

you snorted, "i'm more excited to turn seventeen so i'll be able to apparate. i'll be getting to and from classes like that," you snapped your fingers to emphasise your point.

hermione looked at you exasperated, "you can't app-"

"apparate inside hogwart's, yes, we know," you and the boys chorused, leaving her looking quite wounded.

"c'mon (y/n), you must be excited to know who your soulmate is, i'll have to wait till next july to know," harry said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"i suppose i am a bit, yes, but i wouldn't have minded getting some time to date dean. i know he fancies me too but if it isn't his name on my wrist, i don't see the point of dating him," you replied.

"well it's only a week now," ron piped up.

"can't wait," you muttered.

the following week flew by in a haze of potions, defence against the dark arts, charms, transfiguration and never ending rolls of parchment for homework.

the next thing you knew it was the night before your birthday and you found yourself feeling quite nervous. you had locked yourself in your dorm an hour before midnight, wanting to be alone for when you saw the boy's name. he would get to know at the same time as you did since you were older- the pair of soulmates would get the other's name on the older one's seventeenth birthday- and you had zero inkling of who the boy could be. was he even in your year? oh god what if he was in his second year? wasn't that a question of legality?

these sort of questions raced through your mind as you paced your room, redid your bed, refolded previously folded clothes and you watched the clock steadily tick to twelve.

the second your alarm went off, the scratching began on your left wrist.

you couldn't watch. you slapped your right hand over your eyes and waited till the feeling had stopped. slowly bringing your hand down you looked at the name.

your heart stopped.

your soulmate was draco fucking malfoy.

#draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x yn #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #hogwarts

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pleasantwizardphilosopher · 3 years

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Roll over, baby

I’m currently obsessed with the song “Roll over, baby” by LANY, I just find it extremely relatable, the lyrics have gotten to my core. I think is because I feel like being on a relationship is just that, choosing constantly to meet each other halfway. And the, out of literally nowhere, an idea popped into my head and I decided to write a Supercorp fic based on that song, here’s the result, I hope it warms your heart the same way it does to me.

You can also read it in AO3, please leave kudos if you like it

Most of the times we see eye to eye

They don’t fight. Not usually at least. After being together for three years and more than four of friendship it is hard for them to encounter a situation that escalates. Sure, they argue sometimes and more than frequently hold different points of view, however, they are also capable of understanding each other, to get each other’s views and where they are coming from, they know the other perfectly after all, their buttons, fears and insecurities.

And it’s not like us to be staying up to fight

Today, today is different though. It’s almost midnight and Kara just came back (was brought back) to their shared apartment after going solo in a mission to stop a 5th dimensional imp. She was meant to wait for Brainy and Lena to build, an prepare for launch, a stunning beam that would momentarily cut the connection between their rouge alien and the 5th dimension powers, so Kara could step in as Supergirl along with Nia and take him down. However, waiting a few more minutes was apparently a little too much for the Kryptonian since she headed there by herself after 10 minutes of restless pacing in the Tower. The fella was causing trouble downtown, destroying several local businesses and a school, no one was injured though, still the Girl of Steel couldn’t refrain from being helpful and decided to go by herself.

“It’s going to be fine Lena, I’m just going to play bait while you guys finish off the slowing beam and then we can just send him off to one of our holding cells” she said confidently, just before bursting out of the Tower’s balcony. Barely spearing a second to kiss her on the lips.

She didn’t play bait.

She became an alien boxing bag for the being. He was more powerful and attuned to the 5th dimension than they all, Kara particularly, had anticipated. After a rather violent fight where Kara ended up severely beaten up, he had the guts to threw her into the 5th dimension and afterwards they both vanished.

They spent a whole week trying to find her and bring her back. When they did, she had been held captive in a pocket dimension, restrained with kryptonite cuffs. She was absolutely disoriented and extremely weak, having spent a long period of time under the effects of the green rock. Moreover, the problematic imp kept running rampant trough the city and letting loose God knows what. The Superfriends were torn between stopping him and bringing the hero back. At the end, they concluded that the more productive outcome would be to restrain him and then force him to bring the Kryptonian back. One problem at a time.

They set up a trap. Brainy and Lena designed a quantum net that followed Schrödinger’s principle, the space held by it simultaneously existed, and it didn’t, they had to use nanotechnology capable of producing a quantum field, theoretically, it would allow them to break his connection long enough to be restrained, albeit the challenge would be to find his exact location within the quantum realm. However, they needed someone within the range of the net to bring him down. J’onn was the chosen one, since he is the second strongest among them, that way Dreamer would stay behind with the rest of the team in case something went wrong and J’onn needed backup, or in case the net didn’t work, and they needed to move civilians to safety.

Fortunately, the trap worked, and after being thoroughly interrogated by Alex, he brought Kara back. They were absolutely relieved to see her unharmed, mostly, since all her battle injuries were worse than previously thought, due to having been cuffed with kryptonite for a prolonged timelapse and deprived of yellow sunlight. Her injuries were tended by Alex and Lena, and then she was sent to spend several hours under the sun lamps. Nevertheless, after a few hours she was totally bored and wanted nothing more than to go home, her sister agreed, knowing the genius of a woman had sun lamps installed all over their place.

Most of the time, yeah, we’re so in love

What did I do? What did I say? What’s up?

“How could you?!” she yells, even though she is trying not to lose her bearings, jade-green eyes sparkling with anger and clouded by fear. “We told you to wait for us! We are a team, Kara” They had come back, and as soon as they crossed the threshold her fiancé asked her why she was being so reserved, they had barely exchanged a few words, not even a greeting kiss or a ‘welcome home’ hug. It was the drop that broke the dam.

“I had to go! It is my duty to protect the people of National City and that guy running rampant through the city was definitely withing my responsibility, someone could have gotten injured for Rao’s sake” the blonde reboots with all her might, her voice straining from the effort to keep it leveled and not scream at the CEO. Tears threaten to spill from stormy blue eyes.

“And what about me, us, our friends! Did you even stop to think about how much it’d hurt us to lose you?!” It’s meant to be scolding, using her best boardroom voice, but it comes out as barely above a whisper. She stares intently into sapphire blue eyes.

“I know that you have to protect those who are more vulnerable, I’m not asking you to deny that part of yourself, I’m just asking you not to be so reckless, to wait for backup, you can’t do things on your own” the green-eyed woman voices, hesitantly, pleading.

“I am thinking about you Lena, and the others, every single second, every moment that I put on this cape I do it for you and them, so you can be safe, can’t you see that?” it comes out as a tremor, her voice wavering, a silent tear streams down her cheek.

“I see it all the time, but why can’t you understand that it is not your responsibility to be the hero all the time, that we are there to help you through it?” the genius pleads, voice quivering, more tears smearing her makeup. Forest green eyes seem cloudy with unshed tears.

The Kryptonian scoffs, “It IS my responsibility, I’m the one who has this powers and I’m trying to do good with them” she states in a hoarse voice while raising her hands and waving exasperatedly, a glint of anger flickering in ocean blue.

“Uh-huh, no! You’re not seriously telling me that. I thought we had moved past your god complex, you can’t fix everything!” she hisses between gritted teeth, her hands are clenched into fists, and she has to stop herself from shoving her finger into the blonde’s chest.

“Maybe I can’t but that doesn’t mean I should stop trying! You knew what you were getting into when we started dating! It’s not my fault you forgot” she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth, she can see the shift in kryptonite-green eyes, all defensiveness gone, substituted with hurt and insecurity.

“Lena…no…I-“, the blonde stammers, but it is too late. Lena is turning on her heels towards their bedroom, not even sparing her love a glance. Her shoulders slumping and her head is low, almost ashamed, she could hear the jump her heart made, it sounded painfully breaking. She is left there, alone in their kitchen. With a groan she drops her head in her hands and tries to regulate her breathing and organize her thoughts.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But let’s not waste tonight

Kara peeks into their bedroom, is really dark but she can still make out Lena’s form, she’s laying on her side, facing away from the door, her hands are covering her moth, or so she guesses, from the way she’s positioned. Even without superhearing she’d still hear the soft sniffles and sobs coming from the woman. Her own eyes start filling with tears, knowing that her impulsiveness has led them to this. She bites her lip, reclining against the doorway.

After a moment of consideration, she pushes herself off the door frame and moves towards the bed. The blonde slides under the covers and scoots closer to the CEO, her whimpers are a lot more evident now, being so close to her, she can see the way her body shakes slightly with every new wave of tears. The scent of cinnamon that is Lena’s signature fills her nostrils and she wills herself not to cry harder. Laying on her side she reaches a tentative hand to caress the raven-haired woman’s arm.

Roll over baby, don’t be upset

When she doesn’t pull away from her touch, she slides her hand down her belly and scoots closer. She pats around blindly for a few seconds until she finds the slender alabaster hand she was looking for. She intertwines their fingers and starts rubbing smooth, tender circles over her knuckles, squeezing it slightly every now and then. They stay like that for a while, until she can hear her breathing even out and some of the tension leave her body, she places a soft kiss on the back of her neck, then, she pulls her hand softly, coaxing Lena to turn around and face her.

She does so slowly, albeit without hesitation. The Irish woman’s eyes are red and puffy from crying, there’s a little snot on her shirt and her cheeks are marred with drying tear trails, a light pink blush is dusting her cheeks. She looks up at her fiancé, her gaze seems sad still, although the hero can make out a little curiosity as well. Kara starts scooting backwards, to the edge of the bed, bringing Lena along with her, never letting go of her hand. Once she’s standing, she drops the raven-haired woman’s hand and studies her closely. Pleading blue meet curios green, the CEO is looking at her questioningly from the bed, she extends her hand palm up towards her love.

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

So, come on, baby, let me hold you instead

“Dance with me” the Kryptonian murmurs, as if she was afraid to burst their small bubble. Or maybe of breaking this little moment, still in time.

Lena looks at her hand warily but takes it with a nod, nonetheless.

The Girl of Steel takes them back to their living room, taking out her cellphone, she shuffles a little and settles for a soft song, placing her phone on the coffee table, “Roll over, baby” by LANY starts filling every corner of their living space. She moves to where Lena is standing and places both her hands on her hips, pulling her tenderly into her body, neither of them are wearing shoes, so she’s a little taller than the CEO, deep blue eyes search for forest green. Automatically the raven genius throws her arms around her shoulders, resting her head in the crook of the reporter’s neck. They are very close to each other, their fronts pressed together in a sweet embrace. Kara starts swaying them softly side to side, pressing her cheek against Lena’s, her thumbs rubbing circles on her lower back, over the worn NCU t-shirt she wears for bed. And it is somehow perfect, the warmth coming from the alien is comforting, protective. Their bare feet padding over the wooden floor, lavender and vanilla filling her nostrils.

After a few moments, Kara leans closer to Lena’s ear.

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

“I’m sorry for not listening to you, you’re right I throw myself head-first into dangers all the time, it’s easy to forget that I have people guarding my back” she breathes, barely audible. Her hot breath tickles slightly.

“I sometimes get this wild idea that I have to be there for everyone and be the hero every moment, every step of the way, it’s in those moments where the world’s weight seems heavier than ever on my shoulders, and I get caught up in it”

“I should also apologize, sometimes is easy for me to forget that you have a huge sense of duty, that I love, and that you feel responsible for everyone in this city” the CEO answers just as quietly, her breath tickles Kara’s neck.

She pulls back a little to stare into sapphire-blue, the one she never gets tired of, she doesn’t think she ever will “but I want you to know that it is not a burden that you have to carry on your own” it’s tender, breathily. She starts scratching Kara’s nape and playing lightly with the baby hairs there, “that’s what you have us for, darling, to share the weight, knowing that we love you and will always stand by your side in your crusades” She turns her head slightly and places a feather-like kiss on a tanned cheek.

Roll over, baby, oh

Roll over, baby

Kara closes her eyes and tightens her hold around her lover’s waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head when she feels the CEO snuggle closer and bury her face on the crook of her neck again, she knows it makes her feel safe. The only thing they hear ins the melody of the song, still playing on the reporter’s phone, and each other’s heartbeats.

Just let me pour you a glass of wine

I’ll sit right here, you can say what’s on your mind

“I’m always terribly afraid of losing people that are under my protection, I get so blinded that it’s easy for me to lose sight of what’s really important, of those who truly love me for being Kara, not Supergirl” the reporter confesses after a few silent moments. “I won’t put you in that position again, Lee. If it were you the one who throws themselves into danger, I’d probably lose it, and it was selfish of me to think it’s any different from you” she croaks, her voice thick with emotions and unshed tears. Unable to look at the green-eyed woman, she buries her face into dark strands of hair.

I know you know I’m on your team

You tell me I got work to do and I agree

“I know you are this powerful being that most of the times can handle herself properly and independently, you are a miracle by yourself, but that doesn’t mean that you are invincible, and asking for help is okay, darling” she scolds gently, knowing that it’s sometimes hard for the hero to admit vulnerability, she turns her head and places a tender kiss on a strong shoulder. “And you’ll always be my Kara, that clumsy reported that stumbled her way into my life, who gets easily flustered, but also, someone whose heart is so big, filled with love, hope and compassion for all, I admire you, every day I am to be as good as you are, and I’m grateful to have you in my life, I wouldn’t want it any other way”, it is admitted shyly, with a dimpled smile that is specially reserved for Kara. Green eyes shining like perfect emeralds. They continue swaying slowly, the city blocked out, everything else forgotten.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But I want you tonight

Roll over, baby, don’t be upset

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

“Sometimes I can be a handful, but I promise I’ll keep working to be better for you, I want you in my life, Lee, now and forever” she says confidently, moving a little so she can stare deeply, intently, into emerald-green eyes. The bluest eyes are staring at her so lovingly that her knees buckle slightly, however, the Kryptonian easily holds her and keeps her upright. Pulling her impossibly closer.

The love she is seeing in blue is stronger than anything the CEO has ever experienced in her life, like drowning into cotton clouds, an open summer sky, knowing that she’ll never let her fall, being loved so freely and fiercely makes her melt every single time, her heart swells with love and she feels like she’ll combust momentarily.

Both women start leaning in slowly, green never leaves blue.

So, come over, baby, let me hold you instead

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

They meet in the middle. Their lips connect into the sweetest of kisses. It’s heartwarming, floaty, and it never seems to get old, no matter how many kisses they’ve shared over the years. It still make their arms fill with goosebumps, and her fingers tingle, turning into a puddle at the simplest brush of lips. Soft lips move against each other in another entirely different kind of dance, with practiced ease they fall into a well-known rhythm. Kara pulls away first and doesn’t hold back the satisfied sigh that falls from her lips. Warm air caressing plum lips, which curve up into a smile, before Lena can even process it, she’s leaning in again, capturing pink lips into another loving kiss.

Roll over, baby

When they finally separate, their foreheads are resting together, it no longer matters if one of them was reckless and behaved rashly, what matters is them, now, holding onto each other, choosing one another, in their night clothes, swaying in their living room under the midnight moon. The city and heroism, they hold nothing against them, in this moment.

“I love you” Kara whispers into Lena’s ear.

“I love you, too”

Come on, meet me halfway

From your side of the bed

Come on, meet me halfway

Let me hold you instead

#supercorp #karlena #kara&lena #based on a song #they're in love your honor #i wrote this on a whim #please give me feedback #i honestly cried #they're so cute together #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

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Day 20: Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

(Yes this is out of order, but I figured I’d rather give you guys out of order content than no content at all. Hope that’s okay.)

Day 20 - You can send one item to your soulmate every year.

Content warning: Christmas, food mentions, homophobic family members mentions, serious fluffiness.

Word count: 2.7k

Songs mentioned in this fic: “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

Patton’s eyes scanned over the letter, barely reading the words he’d read many times before. After the first time he’d gotten one, years ago, he’d re-read it so many times he’d committed it to memory.

Patton Hart,

You are receiving this notice to inform you that the annual soulmate item exchange is arriving. On December 24th, BEFORE MIDNIGHT, please bring your package to your nearest postal service or drop box, marked clearly with the provided adhesive label on the TOP. Item must be contained in the shipping box provided. Other boxes will not be accepted. If the drop off time is missed, your package will not be received.

There was no signature, no return address, no number to call. At first, he’d been slightly suspicious, since everyone he asked had no further information than what was on the small letter, but after the first year, when a beautiful black and gold notebook and a matching pen had shown up on his doorstep on Christmas morning, he’d decided to heck with his worries. Despite his initial curiosity, he’d sent a gift anyways (if it was legitimate, he wasn’t about to leave his partner without a present!), a grey beanie that he’d stitched a small heart and message into.

He giddily placed the letter back into the envelope and stuck it into the gap between the hallway mirror and the wall so he wouldn’t forget. Although, he doubted he would. He’d already bought a present, months ago, when his eyes fell upon a black and purple striped sweater in the window of the mall. The black thin stripes occasionally jumped, looking like the lines on a heart monitor, and it hooked him instantly. It was simplistic yet eye catching and unique, like the gifts Patton always received from his soulmate, so he immediately bought it and wrapped it as soon as he got home. He didn’t know his soulmate’s size, but you really can’t go wrong with an extra large (baggy sleeves are ideal, after all).

His time passed quickly, filled with movie nights with his roommate (who insisted on watching Nightmare before Christmas at least once a week) and trying new Christmas cookie recipes. It was his favorite holiday, with the songs and the decorations and the ever present smell of cinnamon in every store, so the moment they had passed Halloween, every moment was filled with his Christmas playlists and cheesy holiday sweaters. His family was coming to his place for their celebration this year, so the place was decked out with tinsel and little snowy villages, candles and fairy lights on every wall, and of course, their tree in the corner of the living room. It was going to be… amazing.

He’d offered to take his roommate’s soulmate item along with him to the post office, seeing as he was uneasy in high crowd situations, and soulmate exchange days were always insanely busy. It had been the right move, too, because as soon as the office came into view, he could already see the crowd of people milling outside, trying to get into the small door. What could you expect, though, only giving people a twenty four hour window to all show up to the same spot? By the time he got inside and got both packages passed to the handler on the other side (an arduous process, since they had to check each gift thoroughly to ensure there were no cards or any other way to identify the sender), it was dark outside. All he wanted to do was curl up with some hot chocolate and watch the Grinch, as the two of them had planned.

That’s what they did, falling asleep on the couch in the process. They were awoken in the morning by a knock at the door, Patton gently extracting himself from Virgil’s arms and turning off the TV, cringing that the cover screen of the movie had been on all night. The other mumbled in annoyance at his heat source disappearing and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s too early.”

“Merry Christmas, Virge!” Patton shrieked, ignoring his roommate’s mock irritated snarl as he gave him a tight hug. “Let’s go get our gifts!”

Begrudgingly, Virgil followed him to the door that he flung open, revealing two small parcels on the step. The labels from the senders had been replaced with simple name tags, another way to ensure that their soulmates would not be traceable. The other houses on the block all had similar ones outside their doors, and the carrier was nowhere to be seen, as usual. He picked them both up, handing Virgil his, and running back into the kitchen to get scissors, pretty much vibrating with glee.

“I’m making coffee first. You want some?”

Patton hummed, looking between the gift before him and Virgil’s tired eyes. “This can wait. Let’s have coffee.”

Virgil was barely able to conceal with excitement at being chosen over a Christmas present by someone who was essentially an overgrown child, pulling out two mugs. He passed his package to Patton, who placed it beside his on the table, and shuffled around his roommate to start on breakfast.

“It’s Christmas. You’re going to eat breakfast for once,” Patton interrupted the moment Virgil started complaining, grinning widely when he finally agreed.

“Do you ever wonder who your soulmate’s gonna be? What they’ll be like?” Virgil asked as he poured the coffee grounds, dangerously precise as always. The elder hummed.

“They’re your soulmate. So I guess, a perfect match to you. It’s not like they won’t like you or anything. That’s against the whole point!” An egg sizzled as it hit the pan, quickly followed by another.

“I guess,” He mumbled, clicking the on button on the machine. The smell of coffee quickly filled the small kitchen, “So when is your family getting here?”

“Around noon,” Patton chirped, flipping the first egg while simultaneously popping bread in the toaster with his other hand, “I like to cook, but my moms don’t trust me to make the main dish alone. My sisters are super excited to be old enough to help make food this year-- it’s so cute. But yeah, they should be here by noon.”

Virgil cracked a pained smile, watching the dripping coffee into the pot. “Okay. I’ll be out of your hair by then.”

Patton’s hand froze in mid air, whipping around to his roommate. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’ll be gone by then,” Virgil repeated, looking down to play with the hem of his sweater, “Do you want me to leave earlier? I can if you want.” His voice very nearly cracked as he spoke, tone getting quieter with each word. Patton’s heart shattered.

“Why do you think I want you to leave?” He whispered, blindly shutting the stove off behind him so the eggs wouldn’t burn. The toast popping startled them both, but neither could find it in them to laugh as they usually would have. Virgil shrugged.

“I mean, your family’s coming over. I’m not family. And I know you were super excited for them to come over, and I don’t want to… ruin the vibe,” He shook his fingers in weak jazz hands, shooting a watery grin at Patton. “I was just planning to go to the mall or something. I think it’s open-”

His words were silenced as Patton threw his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. It was no secret that Virgil didn’t get along well with his own family. That was the understatement of the year, really. Patton didn’t know the details, refused to pry, all he knew is that it had something to do with Virgil coming out to a pretty conservative family, an action that ended with him being split off from everyone. He had lost his little brother to his parents cutting contact, among other things, and Patton realized with a start that this was Virgil’s first Christmas without his family.

In the single year they’d been roommates, the two had grown closer than any childhood friend Patton had kept throughout the years. Heck, he’d maybe consider them closer than he was with his moms, and that was saying a lot. For them to even fall asleep on the couch after a movie night, as they’d done last night, was a regular occurrence for them. They admitted secrets to each other they hadn’t fully admitted to themselves, about their own aromantic natures, about what that meant for soulmates, about what kind of pie was the best. Not all their conversations were deep.

“You are family, Virge,” Patton whispered, resting his chin on the other’s shoulder. “And unless you have a legitimate reason not to, you’re staying here. My family will love you, I swear,” He added quickly, knowing the other’s tendency to grow anxious around new people.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin-”

“I will physically fight you,” He hissed before the other could finish, pulling out of the hug with a soft kiss to his temple. “Stay. For me?”

“Fine,” Virgil rolled his eyes, turning away in fake annoyance to pour their coffee, “For you.” He had a reputation to uphold after all, and him nearly crying was not great for it.

Just as they finished breakfast, Patton eyeing his present next to him with, again, startling resemblance to an excited child, there was a knock at the door. The roommates shared a confused glance, silently communicating that ‘no, I’m not expecting anyone’ before Patton got up to open it. He’d barely unlocked the latch when it burst open of its own accord, a loud shriek of “PATTY!” echoing through the small entryway.

“You guys are early!” Patton laughed as two small girls attempted to squeeze him to death around his torso, the pair having the same blond curls as Patton.

“These two just couldn’t wait to see you,” A woman Virgil assumed to be one of Patton’s mother’s smiled, angling above the girls to give Patton a gentle hug which he eagerly returned.

He quickly led them all inside, introducing a nearly shaking Virgil to his family. His other mom was carrying a box laden with uncooked food, and began to set it out in the small kitchen to begin preparing it. The girls, after a bit of hesitation, flocked to Virgil.

“Why’s your hair purple?” One asked, pulling herself onto Virgil’s lap. Her southern accent was just as strong as her moms’, reminding him of the accent Patton had slowly lost since moving in with him. It wasn’t gone all the way, just dimmed, but from the kitchen, he could hear his roommate talking to his moms animatedly, the accent back in all its glory.

“I drank too much grape soda,” Virgil lamented, “When I was little, I couldn’t get enough of it. And then it turned my hair purple.”

“No, it didn’t!” The girl leaning on his knee giggled.

“Are you saying I’m a liar?” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart, “How dare you!”

They both erupted into shrieking laughs, causing Patton to poke his head out of the kitchen. Virgil couldn’t help grinning widely at him as the second girl pulled herself onto his lap as well, causing Patton’s face to light up like the sun.

“Did you know Christmas is my favorite holiday?”

“Is it really? Why’s that?” Virgil asked, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s mine, too!”

“Nu uh, it’s only mine!”

“We can have the same favorite!”

“Nu uh!”

----------------------------------------------

Patton collapsed back onto the couch, groaning loudly. The tree was the only light in the darkened living room, the air still warm and smelling like the dinner they’d enjoyed hours ago. It was quiet again, his family gone back home. He’d missed them immensely, but he’d forgotten how loud they could be. His feet shifted on the floor, rustling the wrapping paper left over by his hurricane twin sisters; a mess he’d clean up tomorrow. Footsteps approached from down the hall, signalling his roommates arrival, and the speaker on the mantle started to quietly play “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”, Frank Sinatra’s soft voice drifting through the air.

“I’m so full,” He groaned again, resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Mood,” Virgil said, dropping next to him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Virgil was just as tired as him. Tired, in the best way possible.

“You’re really good with kids,” Patton noted with a smile.

“Tell anyone and they’ll never find your body,” He deadpanned and Patton snorted, before he continued, “They’re the same age as my brother.”

“Oh,” He whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. I miss him. A lot. But this was the best Christmas I’ve probably ever had. No homophobic family members, no shouting matches, just… family. It was nice.”

“Hard to be homophobic when you have two moms,” Patton joked, relieved that Virgil snickered.

“Probably would be, yeah.”

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

With every Christmas card I write,

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your Christmas’ be white.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, relishing in the silence of the house. The tree sparkled, lighting up the blank walls in rainbow hues, their conglomerate mix of thrift store ornaments shifting and reflecting the light. People shouted outside, joyful noises, and kids laughed, their neighbors wrapping up their own holiday celebration.

Patton opened his eyes as he felt something placed on his lap, looking down in confusion before grinning.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot!”

Virgil smiled sheepishly, shifting his own box between his hands. “I put them into my room when your family showed up.”

“Smart move. The twins would have torn them open.” Patton dropped off the couch onto the floor, sitting cross legged and shaking with anticipation. With a laugh, Virgil joined him when he gestured to the floor in front of him. He reached up and took his keys from the mantle, slicing open the duct tape on his box before handing it to Patton to do the same.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

Like the ones I used to know,

Where the treetops glisten and children listen,

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

They opened their boxes in unison, Patton gasping when he saw the item in his. He pulled out the large, black fuzzy blanket, blue paw prints the size of Patton’s palm decorating the surface. A high pitched squeal burst from his lips as he squished the blanket to his chest, shoving his face in the soft fabric.

“Virgil, look! Isn’t it-”

His words caught in his throat at the expression on Virgil’s face; one of absolute shock. He was clutching his gift in white knuckles, and Patton’s mouth went dry when he caught the distinct black heart-beat-esque lines on the purple sweater.

“Oh,” Patton whispered, both of them frozen, looking at the gift they’d bought in the other’s arms. “Oh!”

“You’re my soulmate!” They both stated at the same time, breaking off into giggles.

“I guess so,” Virgil gasped, smiling as Patton pretty much leapt into his arms, trying to maneuver his hands around the other’s shoulders while still clutching the black blanket.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so relieved! You’re aro and I’m aro and it’s not going to be awkward with someone else, and I don’t have to explain and oh my gosh this is so fantastic!”

They both dissolved into another laughing fit, Virgil finally able to wind his arms around the other and pulling him closer. The end of the song slowly dwindled down as they both untangled themselves, unable to stop grinning. There was a moment of silence in the room as Virgil picked up a shrieking Patton and dropped him onto the couch, their sides sore from laughter, and essentially settled on top of him.

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” filled the room with soft violin swings as the two fell into a blissful sleep, wrapped in their respective gifts, more at peace than they’d been in… who knows how long.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 3 years

Text

"I'll Always Stay"

Witcher fic. Pre slash Geraskier fic. Rated T and up for minor swearing, blood and gore.

Cross posted on AO3

Geralt and Jaskier get into a fight. Geralt gets injured. Jaskier takes care of him. (Fae Jaskier.)

(Still figuring out read more links on mobile. Help!)

It wasn't as though he had never seen Geralt injured; or that he had never stitched torn and bloodied flesh back together, while the witcher sat brooding beside him; or like he hadn't learned all the witchers potions, how to make them, what they do, how and when they should be administered. But this. This was different.

Geralt was unconscious on the ground beside him. He was without armor, and based on the the amount of blood covering pale skin he wasn't sure that he'd even been wearing it when he was attacked. He'd had it when he'd stormed out of camp with a growled,

"Fuck off."

The witcher had not gone on a hunt. No, that would have been good. Would have settled Jaskiers heart, if only a little. No, instead he had stalked off into the moonless night because they were fighting and he was done with Jaskier and the conversation. When he hadn't returned by midnight Jaskiers unease grew, blossoming dread in his chest and reaching out with tendrils, spreading to Roach and filling the clearing of their campsite. Setting his jaw and recognizing he was being reckless and quiet foolhardy he started into the darkness. Concern squeezed at his heart and weighed like lead in his chest. The darkness was consuming.

He was blind in the darkness and it was by sheer luck alone that he found the witcher at all. Or so, he would say. Now he wishes he was closer to camp and that he had brought more than a single vile of Swallow. He glances around the blackened clearing and though his eyes had adjusted a little he can't see anything now. He's far to close to continue using his magic. Blindly he gropes for one of Geralts swords, anything, fear prickling his skin, raising the hair on his neck and arms. If Geralt had been rendered unconscious and bloody than it would be in Jaskiers best sense to run back to camp and stay there.

With one of the witchers too heavy sword, slick with blood in his hands, he knelt over his friend and listened for too slow breathes, feeling for a too slow pulse. Watching the barely there rise and fall of a bruised and bloodied chest. When he found it he foracably swallowed back his panic, thrusting it from his mind. With shaking hands Jaskier lifted a white clad head into his lap, hair more pink than white. Finally he pulled the vial of Swallow from his pocket and slowly tipped it into an unresponsive mouth. He brushed his fingers down Geralts throat, coaxing it into contracting and swallowing the potion. It was a slow process.

A few moments later, Jaskier huffs out a small sigh of relief. Geralt is breathing easier, if only just. There is no way to get the witcher back to camp and it's too dark to see the full extent of injuries, or find his other sword, and let's not forget the creature that was lurking somewhere in the shadows. Without thinking about it he let his magic sleep out around him. That would keep whatever it was away. He swallowed, it was a calculated risk. And perhaps Geralt would be to out of it to notice it in the morning.

He'd spent so long with humans he'd nearly forgot he had it. Still he dare not use it on Geralt unless there was no other option. That the witcher would notice immediately. So instead he whispers, "I'm sorry."

Sorry he can't use his very nature to save his friends life. Maybe one day. Sorry for the things he had said. Sorry that Geralt had been injured. Sorry for everything he'd done that annoyed, hurt, or angered the witcher.

While he waited for the sun to rise, he ran delicate musicians fingers through coarse, sticky hair. Guilt resting around him like a cloak. As the grey light of dawn rose he felt like an idiot forgetting he could have used his magic to take stock of Geralts injuries at the least, he'd already let it lay lazily around the forest floor. Panic had made him fuzzy. Though that too would have been a very calculated risk. If Geralt found out. Well…. Jaskier quiet liked his life as it was.

The wounds were healing, slowly. Witchers mutations and potion at work. But it wasn't fast enough, congealed red blood oozed from the wounds, even now. hours later. Jaskiers fears to think what would have been if he had waited for the light to go looking. Slowly as not to strain or startle the still unconscious witcher he extricated himself. He hated what he was about to do but it was necessary. He moved quickly, quicker than this form should have moved. He returned to and broke camp quickly and Roach followed him with a soft neigh.

He turns to her and whispers softly.

"Don't tell him please." He holds eye contact with her until she snorts into his shoulder. This really shouldn't be a concern right now. But it is.

When he returned to Geralts side he collected his silver sword, gingerly, and placed it with the steel. He gathered up shredded armor, and for all his vast knowledge of magical creatures, more than he let's on, he has no idea what did this. He swallowed harshly. This was not good.

He built a fire and set water to boil. Doing things the mortal way was not his favorite thing. He notes absently that their supplies are running low. He gathers another bottle of Swallow and again coaxes it down Geralts throat. Finished he set about creating a salve or potion. Anything that would help his friend. With the water ready he set about washing away the blood and dirt from the front of Geralts torso. He couldn't reach his back and hoped it wasn't as bad. Although the fact that the injuries were this severe on his stomach was disheartening and highly concerning.

Really he hadn't meant to make him angry. But he had been cold, wet, hungry and they had been traveling for 3 days straight stopping only for a few hours of sleep. Not a problem if he wasn't hiding what he is from the witcher, remarkably well at that. And Geralt hadn't told him anything. Hadn't said where the were going, what they were doing. And he'd known the moment the words left his mouth, he'd known he had completely and irrevocably fucked up. So he'd spent the next five hours apologizing profusely for his mistake. Saying that he hadn't meant it he'd only been angry. It wasn't true. It was never true. The witcher had decided to set camp and then stormed off into the dark effectively ending the conversation. Uncertain what to do he had tended Roach and the fire. He hadn't even attempted to compose. Then he'd just listened in silence and darkness for Geralt to return thinking about how to make it right.

Now he was sitting on his knees in the dirt beside his wounded friend who could very well die. He told himself to stop thinking like that.he'd give himself away before he actually let Geralt die.

He continued peeling back torn remnants of clothing, soaking bits that were stubbornly stuck and then removing them completely. He washed as he went removing dirt and congealed blood with water then antiseptic. He knows it has to sting a ridiculous amount and is grateful the witcher is still unconscious.

The cuts are deep. The flesh is torn and ragged like it had been ripped from bone; the cuts were not clean and sliced. They are deep and he pulls back flesh to make sure its clean. Infection has likely already begun to set in. Once he's satisfied that the wounds are as clean as they can be he sets to work stitching the flesh.

It isn't pretty work. And his stitches, though practiced, are not beautiful against ashen skin. They're uneven and some are a little tight others a little loose. But he's a bard. He is not a surgeon or a seamster. Still it's work that needs to be done so he bites his lip and let's hands accustomed to playing strings guide one through muscle and skin.

He swallows down bile. Guilt returning as the stitched wounds continue to ooze blood. If only he hadn't riled him up, hadn't let him stalk off into the darkness of night, angry and alone.

He continues to work with nimble fingers on the skin he can see. At some point he lost track of how many stitches he had run. Finished with the visible portion of Geralts torso he smears a thick salve across it. He can't bandage it now. He has to wait for the witcher to sit up. And he prays to every deity he can think of that he isn't badly injured on his back. He clenches his teeth, bounces his leg, and let his eyes roam over Geralts prone form. "Wake up" he thinks desperate with nervousness. Tears work their way towards his eyes, his throat constricting painfully.

"Geralt please. I know. I was unkind. I didn't mean it. Truly. I swear it just slipped out. It was a low blow and I knew it would get a reaction. But I didn't mean it. I swear. I am so sorry. Please. Please don't die here Geralt. Don't die. Not yet. Not like this." He whispers leaning back against the tree head titled back silent tears streaking his face. He closes his eyes. He tells himself if there's no improvement by that night, he'll use his magic and hope against all odds the witcher doesn't send him away.

Until Geralt woke up there was nothing more he could do. He keeps his eyes closed but doesn't sleep. Ears turned to the sound of breathing beside him. Time passes and the sun rises high overhead. A low groan pulls him from his heartache.

"Geralt?" He pitches forward from the tree and scrambles to push the witcher back down.

" Geralt! Stop. Dont sit up your injured. Badly." He frowns. The witcher lays back obediantly. Tired eyes scanning his surroundings. He nods and seems to relax. And the dread in the pit of Jaskiers stomach dissipates.

" I tended the injuries I could find." He starts quiet, just barely a whisper and then more confidently. " I'm sorry Geralt. Really. I- I am so sorry." He gets a grunt and the two stare at each other for a while. Geralts features hard, but he must see something in Jaskier that tells him undoubtedly that these words are true, because his brow unpinches and his jaw relaxes. The witcher let's out a long sigh. Then pushes himself up into a sitting position. and Jaskier goes from concerned his friend won't forgive him to concerned his friend is going to run off and never come back and die alone in the woods to hes not moving but now I can see his back, oh God I can see his bakc in the span of a single breath.

"Your wounds are serious! Geralt you really shouldn't --"

" Stop, Jaskier. There's a--"

"Oh yes indeed. Stay put. I'll just grab the supplies." So he gathers up a fresh rag and the water he's kept warm and the salve and bandages. The needle and threading. Finally he settles himself behind Geralt and neither speaks. He hears the witcher inhale against the sting of the antiseptic.

"Two vials of Swallow. One when I found you. One 6 hours later, when I could see to get back to camp." He says dutifully, never looking away from his work. These arn't nearly as bad as the others. He works quickly so he can properly bandage the mess.

"Hand me the bandages." He says pulling the last stitch tight. And Geralt let's out a pained grunt as he reaches for them. Jaskier doesn't hesitate to begin winding them around the witchers torso. Arms bracketing the larger man far to intimately in the process. He pulls them just tightly enough, with well and overly practiced ease. He hesitates, then he moves back to Geralts side.

He doesn't speak, just breathes. He's said his peace. He doesn't flinch under Geralts scrutiny as the man continues to look at him.

"Your eyes seem bluer."

"Crying." He says after a moment of silent panic.

"Hmm…. I'm sorry too."

And he actually chokes on his own spit. What? He looks at Geralt and stretches a hand out to touch his forehead but the witcher holds eye contact.

"Well then. I guess were squared away now?"

A nod. "I'm tired Jaskier." The witcher says eyes soft and unfocused as he reaches out a hand to brush fingers against the bards flushed cheek.

"Then sleep, Geralt. I'll stay."

"I'll always stay."

#the witcherr #Geraskier #hurt comfort #mostly hurt #fae jaskier #major character injury #everyone lives

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amyrallis · 4 years

Text

So I Waged War Against The Skies -The Old Gods Are No More-

Written for my amazing anija, @sleepysenseis (love you uwu) because they are great and they're perfect and so is their art and anija knows exactly how to enable me, dammit. Enabled™ smol otouto me and here is the MASTERPIECE:

--------

“No.” Tobirama breathed, his body a mess from all the times he had been stabbed straight through, the pain barely registering. He sometimes thought it was a good thing he had never finished with the Edo Tensei. This was one of those times.

Madara hummed next to him, his now a greenish white hair drifting in the breeze as he surveyed the broken battlefield in front of him. “No? They already lost. There’s no point in denying it, Tobirama. It’s not like you.” The purple eyed man turned around, a madness that made Tobirama lose his breath settled deep in his eyes.

Tobirama knew Madara was right. The battlefield had gone painfully silent, the symbol of hope that Naruto was having fallen somewhere in the chaos and left them stumbling blindly in the dark. He closed his eyes as another pang went through him. To attack this man so openly without any plan was nothing short of foolish, something that Tobirama had known for a long time but Naruto had somehow missed.

Sasuke laid on the ground close to them, his blood a pool of red around him as the wind blew over the battlefield –more like massacre, Tobirama couldn’t help but think, a pang of sorrow rushing through his veins- lifting the dust and leaving the painful picture clear for all to see. They had lost and Madara had won.

It was ironic. The way a defeated air hung around the place, the one driving force one side had, lost in grief, ıt reminded him all too clearly of another battlefield. One where Madara had laid on his back and said, me or the village Hashirama. One which Madara had said those things, his sharingan spinning an entirely new shape in his grief and looked straight at Tobirama while doing so.

His breath had hitched lightly, his eyes turning to avoid the cursed red of the sharingan –cursed by gods, cursed for daring to love so very deeply, in a way that no mortal, no god had ever dared to and cursed for caring so much, enough to give everything for fleeting lives. Tobirama knew the feeling very well, in the blood that ran through his veins, in the way that his eyes were the same shade of red as the curse of gods, the beat of his heart as he held pieces of his younger brother in his arms… really, he should’ve known in the beginning- and felt something in him burn. Izuna may have had been an enemy but he was also human. They were at war and Tobirama had his own family to keep safe. He didn’t have to regret protecting his family.

Even if it was at the cost of another’s, for that was how life had dared to work, always so cruel against those who took the chance and thrived in it.

He already had too many of those very same family’s blood on his hands because Hashirama was brilliant, a sea of hope in the midst of a thunderstorm, burning bright and beautiful and Tobirama could only hope to rest in his shores for some time, before he had to get up and stop the storm from breaching that sacred place, because even though Hashirama was impossible and brilliant and everything, he was only one men. And men were good at one thing above all. Falling.

Tobirama had to stop that, he had to interfere and help his Anija against the fate that was so very determined to stop him and if the cost was his own conscious, nights spent awake, feeling like his very soul would never feel together again and sitting up once more because he could never hope to be enough but that never meant he couldn’t try his best, that was his own problem.

Anija tended to overlook lives, tiny and insignificant as they were to him, for his eyes were burned and blinded by the future he was always marching towards but Tobirama was there to ground him and carry the burdens that grounding would normally lay on Hashirama. He had chosen Izuna for a reason.

Izuna was close to his power, so very close in chakra, maybe even in strength but Tobirama was an inventor and a seal master, he wasn’t known as the greatest suiton master ever seen for nothing.

Izuna, just, didn’t match up. But Tobirama made it so, allowing the illusion of him being equal to power because if he didn’t, he would have to reach behind him and go full force, after revealing his entire power and skill set, there’d be no stopping for him, he’d be pushed to do it and not even Hashirama could try for his peace when so much of the Uchiha had been slaughtered by his own heir, no one would trust them.

İf the cost came with the Senju that Tobirama hadn’t been fast enough to protect while engaging Izuna, the ones he would’ve been able to had he already gotten rid of the other younger brother, then those were his own demons, hidden behind to be revealed at night, after everyone was asleep and the graveyard in his mind had been awakened once more.

His eyes snapped open as Madara’s hand clasped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet the Rinnegan and the shorter man leaned down slightly with an intense look in his eyes. “What have they done to you? I’m sure you could make the Edo Tensei work so much better than this. All they did was bring back you at your last second. Truly pitiful like they are. I'm not surprised at all that they had to bring you back to fight me and still managed to mess it up.” Tobirama glared up at him, unable to retort because the Uchiha was right but also unwilling to let the slight against his village go while stubbornly denying the back handed compliment.

“As pitiful as your plan, I suppose? Or are you truly that gone in the head Uchiha? Your plan has so many loopholes in it that Anija could stick his head in it.”

Madara’s eyes twisted with fury even as he slowly caressed Tobirama’s cheek, a wondering look replacing the fury in the next second and making Tobirama question if it had even happened.

“That’s why you’re the one who plans things, Tobirama.” Madara murmured, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he leaned down even more. Tobirama struggled in his kneeling position, the callousness burning at him even as he hid the discomfort from the way Madara looked at him.

Madara chuckled, his hand coming up to keep Tobirama in place and circled him. “You were always so beautiful when you got angry.” Madara stopped behind him, his fingers sinking into Tobirama’s hair and yanked his head back. Tobirama looked at him, his neck bent at an odd angle as pieces of paper floated in the air. “What are you talking about?” he said, trying to ignore the pressing feeling in his mind.

Madara always acted strange when Tobirama was around, Hashirama had said once. His eyes would focus on Tobirama and all his words would be for him, like he was literally unable to forget that the albino was there and that he existed, even for one moment. His chakra would seek Tobirama out during the day and his questions would be pointed to Tobirama, something that made Hashirama wonder a lot. Tobirama had tried to ignore his Anija’s foolishness, instead thinking that it was Madara assessing the highest likely threat to himself, because it was so obvious that Hashirama wouldn’t hurt him, the bumbling buffoon.

Hashirama wouldn't hurt him? Like he hadn't killed Madara? Tobirama couldn’t help but question. Just like Madara hadn’t sometimes sought Tobirama out, his chakra exhausted and on the verge of something that Tobirama had never known what? Instead, his mind had been focused on trying to stop what had felt inevitable to him, always, always dangling just over their future and overwhelming. Because even if Madara hadn’t been so beloved by Anija, and hadn’t that always burned so deeply inside him, Tobirama respected the man. For his strength, maybe, for his ability to look past the Senju elders, always trying to manipulate everything, certainly, for his kindness with children , always.

Tobirama was a man of practicality, he liked solutions and ideas, he liked his science and he liked building things –sometimes, in the midst of the night when everyone was asleep, he dared to think he’d have made a good teacher, a good adventurer, maybe even a good man. In another life. Good for life, maybe or maybe good for humans, perhaps even good as humans had decreed it, he didn’t know. He supposed he’d get used to not doing so. It was one of the first things he had resigned to never knowing, but certainly not the last (the last had been the question, will it ever truly end?)- he always liked kids and helping them. There’d been a certain joy to be found in imparting knowledge to others and knowing that, at least in that way, they’d be safer. Madara had always been that way, something that Tobirama had known to respect in humans.

Madara was also complicated. Sometimes, they’d tear each other’s throats out and sometimes, it’d be silence in a winter midnight, something that could almost be called amiable between them as the snow rested on their faces and hair. Once, Madara had approached during that time, his hand slowly extending to brush against Tobirama’s cheek and he had muttered, snow is a good look on you, Tobirama. There had been the potential of so many things in that second, and perhaps they had taken that potential and used it, in another life.

Madara had left the other day, gone for a whole week before he returned, one last time, on the back of the Kyuubi and so very desperate. They had come across each other when Madara had waited for Tobirama in his room and there had been an unspoken question before his gaze had sharpened. Tobirama had looked into the sharingan for the last time and into Madara’s eyes, the first. –the first time he had looked into the sharingan since he had when he was five and there was blood in the air and Anija was gone, gone, gone, missing and the very air was screaming with him and the world had cracked open, the fury of gods falling upon it with his loss, his desperation-

-a bargain was made that day-

“You, Tobirama, I’m always talking about you.” Tobirama’s breath got stuck in his chest, his mind on the cusp of something, a realization so dangerous, too much to even contemplate. Madara gazed towards the skyline, the mural of his victory laid out before him and a self deprecating smile painted on his face. “Always.”

Tobirama didn’t want to hear it. Tobirama didn’t want to hear anything, he was dead and he was gone, he had done everything he could for this World and he had deserved his happiness, his end, his rest. If Madara wanted him so badly, he could join Tobirama –and Hashirama and everyone he had loved and lost because why was he trying to drag them back up to the very place that had destroyed them, why was he so damn selfish?- in the Pure Lands, saving everyone the pain and exhaustion. Why did he have to be so stubborn, so damn blind? If he loved them, then he could’ve come to them, because his time was over but Madara was always chasing the fleeting wasn’t he? And there was the problem, Tobirama thought bitterly, the man who loved him –he had felt that for a long time, but he would save the breakdown till later- was an Uchiha, the very epitome of loving the fleeting and cursing the ethereal, the endless.

Those eyes weren’t given for naught.

Amaterasu, seeing their pain and loss, had blessed the sad, fallen mortals with the chance to always remember their loved ones and in doing so, had also cursed them. There was a reason that Gods didn’t walk the earth anymore, didn’t interfere with their affairs.

-Gods could fall too-

“Look at me. All the sights of the world, laid out at my feet and I can only look at you.” Madara turned his gaze back down to Tobirama, his hair swaying in the wind as he did so.

Tobirama stopped the imitation of breathing, all his senses focused on Madara. Why was he saying these things? Why now? The war was over, he had won, so why was he still playing this game? Tobirama had seen the way Madara had looked at him as he clashed with Naruto, the other Kage, always, a part of his attention was on Tobirama, he could feel it like the gaze of someone on his back, the feeling of a breath on his nape, with his everything.

For once during the battle, his chakra had reached out, coaxing and playful and tried to intertwine with Tobirama whose eyes had widened, his attention turning to the Bijuu he was next to. He had departed right after, the idea of pressing the advantage forming in his head. Madara was somehow calm towards Tobirama, something that could’ve been used for their advantage and if Tobirama could give the others an advantage to press forward by making Madara focus on him, then he would. Madara had always been a creature of passion, someone who could easily focus elsewhere if one knew how to play him. It hadn’t worked.

The bright golden of Minato and Anija echoed in his senses as the silence continued, Madara having leant down and sat next to him. His arm raised, grabbing Tobirama’s hair once more and using it to angle his face to stare at Madara. Tobirama's eyes narrowed.

“Close your eyes, if it irks you so.” Madara gave a surprised laugh, the sound escaping with a strange timbre like he honestly hadn’t expected Tobirama to respond that way –and wasn’t that stupid, Madara always knew Tobirama had a sharp tongue, and was logically wary of it. Perhaps he had foolishly thought being in Madara’s hold would stop him from lashing with it, an idea fit for clueless people because Tobirama wasn’t one to bow to pressure.- and he threw his head back for a second before leaning down and crushing their lips together.

Tobirama froze stiff, his entire being wanting to continue to reject the very idea of the situation yet his mind so very aware as Madara pressed impossibly closer, his eyes wide open and running over Tobirama‘s face reverently, the edge of something insane burning in them.

Madara slowly drew back, a satisfied smile on his face as he gave Tobirama a smug look. “I prefer to continue looking. You’re quite the sight, after all.”

Tobirama looked back, something sharp in his gaze. He had never wanted any of this. He was tired of his life always being one battle, one challenge after another and just when he thought he was done, he had closure…

“I’d rather not to be looked at actually, especially by a madman who can’t even plan.” He bit back, his words trying and failing to mask his unease. Madara smiled and leant down, leaning his head against Tobirama’s shoulder and raising his lips to his ear.

“Always with the insults, To-bi-ra. Don’t worry, I’ll have enough time to look my fill. Right after I’m done with them.” Madara muttered, his body tensing once more. Tobirama lightly flinched at the touch of his horn against his neck, his instincts overwhelming him as he tried to ignore the words, to leave this world and go back to his tranquil existence of before. “Then we can be together, like we’ve always wanted.”

The chakra receiver through his head warmed lightly as Madara moved his hand over it and melted over his body, binding Tobirama more thoroughly than anything else ever could. The edges of panic peeked from his mind as they did, Tobirama having to fight an uphill battle to push them back

Madara was gone with the blast of a wind, his outrageous claims not seeming so stupid. Tobirama knew, there was no way they’d be able to win and Madara was just gloating his victory over them. Naruto was gone, truly honestly dead in the way that Tobirama could sense his chakra pooling out of his body, leaving an empty husk and he didn’t want to think anymore.

He didn’t want to think about what Madara was implying, didn’t want to think about how he wasn’t able to get free as long as Orochimaru didn’t set him -and he wouldn’t if he was trapped in an endless dream, Tobirama was well and truly stuck in a way he’d never been, had always avoided, even without the seals that had locked over his form and bound him to the mortal plane- he didn’t want to think about losing once more –because no matter what was said, Konoha had been a loss. One that Tobirama had tried his best to salvage but perhaps, perhaps some things weren't meant to be saved.- about all the people who laid dead for a system that had been made to kill them in the first place, the system that Tobirama himself had failed in creating properly and thus, left them to their fates, sent them to their deaths.

Instead, he closed his eyes and let go, his mind soaring through nebulae and galaxies, starlight and black holes with a pale moon lighting the way home.

#uchiha madara #senju tobirama #madatobi #YEET HOPE YOU LİKE #ANİJA İT'S ALL YOUR FAULT #UNREPENTANT ™#from discord lmao #anija tag

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schnees-and-schnugs · 4 years

Text

head empty baby schneebling ficlet ??? (just so yall know i had no idea what this was going to be about until i started typing so im gonna be surprised by what i write too). if it seems that winter has chronic ADHD brain in this fic its bc i have chronic ADHD brain and that’s just how i roll.

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Winter tried to ignore the meowing as long as she could. After all, there was not a single feline creature to be found in the manor, so either she’s dreaming or hallucinating. Or maybe her ears are ringing from her father’s latest tantrum.

Being held hostage at the dinner table and forced to listen to his incessant barking voice ought to have caused me permanent brain damage. She smirked under her covers. Now if I can close my eyes and go back to sleep-

“MEEEEROOOWOOW”

What the fuck is that?

Winter knew she ought to get up but she really did not want to. Her thighs ached from horse riding lessons earlier in the day. Her head ached from her business studies her father forced down her throat. Her soul ached from the pain of existence. She was beginning to think she was being punished for some transgression- if being unbelievably charming and sexy deserved- actually, I don’t think I’m going to finish that train of thought.

Winter could only tolerate her own sense of humor in small doses, but giver her situation- her entire life up to this point- she didn’t think having an unbecoming jocularity was high up on her list of Current Problems and Tragedies. In fact, it’s quite low given that her father makes up the better part of the first half.

She rolled onto her side, one ear muffled by her pillow, and the other under the soft thick layer of her cotton blanket. The noise seemed to have disappeared, and Winter was quite okay with that. She wondered briefly of the possibility of a mountain lion finding its way into the Schnee Estate. She wasn’t even sure if wild animals such as that existed in Solitas, much less bright and pristine Atlas. Winter wasn’t even sure if mountain lions meowed.

If a beast made it’s way into the manor, what would I even do? No doubt she would try to locate the animal, gather Weiss and Whitley in her arms and stow them somewhere safe. Maybe even use a piece of meat to lure the lion into father’s bedroom, she mused. Winter tried lull herself back to sleep with the thought of her father begging her for mercy as she unleashes her new pet-

“MREEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOW”

Her eyes snapped open. Gods-

A soft muffled voice followed the feline yell. A familiar voice. A voice exactly suited for one little boy she new very well.

Winter narrowed her eyes and listening closely. She could tell it was Whitley from the general childish sound of his tone, but due to her very comfortable position in bed, she couldn’t quite her the specifics. Huffing, she sat up and pricked up her ears.

“... quiet....please kitty... you’re going to wake up....”

Winter sputtered. Kitty?

Did Whitley somehow bring a cat into the manor? She didn’t doubt that given the chance he would- he was overly fond of animals in a way that Winter never understood. Not that she hated animals per se, but the idea of the added responsibility of a pet on top of her already ever-growing responsibilities of being heir to the SDC did not sit well with her. Whitley on the other hand, being the third child, and well, and actual child, didn’t really have much to care about beyond his normal tutoring sessions. Which means that, of course he can have a tiny bird feeders outside his window to feed the little birdies and cry at the sight of a roasted chicken because how could they kill and cook and innocent little animal?

Winter didn’t understand how a child under 10 years of age could be taken by vegan persuasions- even Father was shocked to silence at that outburst at the dinner table.

The sound of Whitley’s voice faded out as Winter strained her ears. If he did bring a cat into the manor, she needed to fix that immediately. Father would be furious at not only being woken up in the middle of the night but Whitley breaking the strict rule of no animals whatsoever allowed indoors.

Father is allergic.

(What animal he’s allergic to is unknown, but Winter suspects he’s just afraid of them).

Sliding off the bed, Winter winced at the feeling of cold tile on her bare feet. She simultaneously thought of giving Whitley a good scolding for making her roll off of bed at such an ungodly hour and thanking the Gods that Whitley’s room was right next to hers on the other side of the wall. And the farthest away from Father’s room.

Sliding her feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers, she cautiously stepped out of her room and into the hallway. The moment the clock strikes 12 the hallway lamps usually shut off on their own, leaving at least this portion of the manor pitch black until the sun rises and lights up through the windows. If Father was working late he would manually change the lights to turn off at a later time- only to suite himself, of course. Everyone else who had the misfortune of living in the manor had to finish up and be back in their rooms by midnight or suffer having to find their room in the dark among the endless doors that lined the hallway. Winter had mastered the art of blindly walking down this hall- but not without multiple mishaps and embarrassments at first, unfortunately.

Arms outstretched, Winter felt her way from her doorway to Whitley’s room. She kept close to the wall and tiptoed, feeling for the doorknob before pressing her ear against the room door.

“Are you hungry little kitty?” There was an affirmative purr and Whitley hummed. “I’m going to have to find you some treats...”

Winter could practically hear the cogs turning in his little adolescent mind. She knew for sure that Whitley was formulating a plan to break into the food storage for the animals in Mom’s garden- would they even have any cat food in there? He surely is going to be disappointed.

Winter sighed. She almost wished she had stayed in bed. She turned the knob and nudged open the door, prompting Whitley to softly gasp.

“Winnie!” She heard him quickly shift on his bed. Winter stepped fully into the space before gently closing the door behind her. She turned towards him and assessed the scene before her. Whitley, in his white nightgown, sat in the middle of the bed. He was cradling a suspicious lump wrapped up with his blanket while his round face was contorted by a small frown as he stared back at his oldest sister.

“Father says that we shouldn’t leave out room after midnight”, the lump shifted and Whitley clutched it tighter.

“Father also says we aren’t allowed to bring animals into the manor...” Winter crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that on your lap?”

“Nothing!”

“Are you sure?” Whatever annoyance Winter felt melted away at the sight of Whitley pouting. She sauntered playfully to the edge of his bed and wiggled and finger in his face. “Are you lying to me? Your older sister Winnie? You’re lying to me?”

Whitley broke eye contact. “Well...” The lump mewed and a furry white paw extended from out of the cover of the blanket. Winter raised a brow.

“That looks suspiciously like a cat.” Winter crawled into his bed and uncovered the little creature. The cat loafed on Whitley’s lap, grooming the pristine white fur on around its pink paw beans. It looked to be a few years old.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Whitley caressed the cat’s back, having already moved on from the earlier argument. Winter tried to pat its head but the little critter swiftly dodged her palm and scampered to the edge of the bed and curled up, seemingly to sleep. Rude.

There’s a more present matter at hand anyways.

“Where did you find it?” Winter turned her attention back to her little brother.

“Her”

“What?”

“It’s a she, Winnie! Look at her butt!” Winter politely declined the suggestion. She had no interest in inspecting the cat’s backside- she didn’t seem to like Winter anyways.

“Well, where did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her! Mr. Hartley gave her to me”

“The grounds keeper?” Winter scoffed. “Why would he give you a cat?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you don’t believe me?” His eyes started to brim with tears and he grabbed Winters right hand with his own two smaller ones. “Father said we’re not allowed to bring animals in here but I didn’t know what to do! Mr. Hartley said he’s leaving but he can’t take her with him. I said I would keep her. But Father is going to yell at me if he finds out- I’m scared...”

Winter’s chest ached at the desperation in Whitley’s voice. This isn’t normal is it? For a child to be so terrified of their parent like this. When she was his age, she felt the same way- so scared and vulnerable. It was the end of the world to get negative attention from Father, and most of the time it seemed to be the only type of attention he gave. It almost seemed par for the course all those years ago. She didn’t know any better- it was just the norm.

Looking at Whitley, petrified like she was- she could see the abuse from the outside. Almost as if she’s watching her own experiences and she’s chained to a front row seat. Except she didn’t have an older sibling to hold her hand and to share the pain with. To protect her. To defend her. Isn’t that what she always wanted in the worst days of the past? Couldn’t she be that now?

Whitley couldn’t keep the cat. There was no amount of convincing that could make Father give in- it’s always been about his own ego, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that Father has to know this cat was ever here in the first place. Atlas has plenty of animal shelters, and having a pet cat was in vogue now. She would convince Whitley to let Klein take the cat to the nearest one in the morning. Father would never know if they were discrete.

“Winnie...” Whitley’s bright blue eyes searched her face.

Winter grabbed him under his arms, and with little struggle, sat him between her stretched out legs. She hugged him around the waist from behind and softly told him her plan.

“... do you want to do this with me?”

Whitley sniffed. “I can’t keep her?”

“Father won’t allow you to. We can make sure the kitty is safe and taken care of though... Klein will do this for us, I know it. You won’t get yelled at and you can tell her goodbye in the morning. Father will be none the wiser.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that he’ll never know.”

Whitley was quiet for a few seconds before Winter felt him nod softly beneath her chin. “Can I sleep with her tonight?”

Winter blinked. She forgot it was currently hours past Whitley’s bedtime. He must be half asleep.

“Yes. Just make sure to keep her in your room, okay? I’ll leave a message for Klein to see in the morning. Don’t...” She paused. She noticed Whitley breath start to even out as he fell asleep against her.

I suppose I’m going to be sleeping her tonight also. She needed to make sure that this all goes well. However, Winter couldn’t ignore the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Was she just getting Whitley used to this? Hiding secrets out of fear? Was she allowing Father to have his way in Whitley’s eyes? Getting Whitley accustomed to living under Father’s thumb? She was just trying to protect him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness, that she was denying Whitley happiness for the sake of peace with their Father.

Mom always told her to choose her battles carefully.

She couldn’t help but feel that if she chose all the wrong ones, she’ll end up hurting Whitley beyond repair.

#rwby #whitley schnee #winter schnee #fic

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prismatic-cannon · 4 years

Note

uhm sis (or bro or whatever u prefer i just call everyone sis) pls reblog more fics like i need some good ones and pieces was hella good

Ahhh i’m really glad you like Pieces!!! It deserves more love for sure and the feels are only going to get better I can promise you that hoho \o/ (and I’m good with both sis/bro, I don’t mind either or it’s cool)

So far I’ve been blindly going through the AO3 tags for jojo fics so I’m not sure if my fic recs would entirely appeal to you … but if you’re interested you could definitely take a look at some of these faves! (Do mind the fics’ tags if you’re sensitive to certain tropes) Most of these are going to be heavily skewed towards part 4 and 7 (absolutely no one is surprised), but there’s other parts under the cut too!

Part 2

see you again by efthemia (6k oneshot with background Part 7 ship) - A Caejose reincarnation fic! This is set in a modern day au where Joseph and Caesar meet in another life … by crashing vehicles into each other lol

Can You Ever Go Home Again? by alexclusive (4k oneshot, contains Part 4 spoilers but is mostly centred around Part 2 and 3 characters) - I don’t want to spoil too much for this fic so I’m just going to copy paste the fic’s original summary here: “A few months after his adventure in Morioh, Jotaro goes on another personal errand at the request of his grandfather, and ends up discovering yet another lingering ghost.” A lowkey fix-it with feels!

Part 3

Torture Me by Xyloto (nsfw 2k oneshot) - The SDC gang walks in on jotakak inappropriately using their stands lmaooo enough said

Young Flame by greenteafiend (nsfw 7k multichaptered) - More Jotakak! Takes place during the Devil-Yellow Temperance part of SDC where Jotaro and Kak share that hotel room in Singapore lol

Kiss With A Fist by nevermordor (nsfw 6k oneshot) - Tempers and egos flare between Jotaro and Kakyoin as they make the long tenuous journey to Egypt – Fistfights inevitably happen. I really like how much of a cold hardass bastard Kakyoin gets in this lol

time after time by dimolto (11k oneshot) - TIME LOOP TIME LOOP TIME LOOP!!!! God time loops are one of my favourite tropes of all time, I don’t think I could get sick of it. SDC canon compliant (kinda) – Jotaro is the only person that’s aware of the loop and has to work his way out of it somehow. It’s jotakak too!! Highly rec this fic

Part 4

No place where we can’t go by tjesje (4k oneshot) - Josuyasu! Two dudes slowly fall in love over the course of their summer break. OP really nails the friendship between Josuke and Okuyasu – the banter flows so easily you can’t help but get caught up in how close and in sync they are with each other. Also, the summer vibes are super strong in this fic! Always a big plus with duwang content lmao

electric word life by Fluffifullness (8k oneshot) - More Josuyasu mutual pining + confessions, suuuuper sappy and sweet with some light post DiU angst.

Just Let Me Know, How Do You Feel? by hushroom (6k multichaptered) - Post DiU – Set during their college years, Okuyasu meets up with Josuke for the first time in a while, and they work towards overcoming emotional distance caused by the strain of long distance relationships and misunderstandings. Aged up Josuyasu content is always such a treat and this one doesn’t let down!

Bosozoku Boys by VulpesVulpes (nsfw 4k oneshot) - Takes place a few years after DiU. One night during a sleepover Josuke accidentally stumbles upon a porn mag under Oku’s bed – midnight confessions and feels ensue. This fic always has a soft spot in my heart just because of how vulnerable Josuke gets, argh my heart it aches

Crashing Waves by chamomilekai (7k multichaptered) - Post DiU – Josuke and Okuyasu deal with the lingering effects from the final Kira fight. It’s a slow burn romance with heavy feels where both bros find comfort and support in each other, very delicious part 4 h/c sob x10000

Part 5

the passenger by havisham (nsfw 5k oneshot, contains Part 6 endgame spoilers) - A Brugio fix-it …. of sorts. Ten years after Vento Aureo ends, mob boss Giorno somehow finds himself sent back in time with the opportunity to save Bruno and the others. I really like how desperate and jaded Giorno is in trying to save everyone, and how despite everything things still don’t go entirely the way he wants them to …

DIOmestic by writers_haven (4k oneshot) - Yep, it’s modern au mudad lmao. Some JonaDio here and there but the focus is mostly on Dio+Gio father-son fluff. It’s stupidly cute and there are little nods to canon material that I love to bits, like Hamon being reimagined as a fancy form of new age yoga ahahaha

Part 7

Riches and Wonders by etymology playground (8k oneshot) - A lighthearted gyjo fic that takes place during canon events – Two weeks after Sugar Mountain, Johnny and Gyro spend some R&R at a stand-powered onsen lmao. This was one of the first few fics I read right after finishing part 7, and it really helped to soothe the post SBR pain … not that I’m completely over it yet but then again would anyone ever be lol

Laundry by Petronia (2k oneshot) - Another lighthearted canon gyjo fic with lowkey ust lol – Johnny and Gyro take time between travels to do laundry. Idk, there’s something about gyjo domestic downtime that’s so comforting sob

i’ll see your face again by queenieofaces (2k oneshot, Part 7 endgame spoilers) - Oh boy this one … It’s a reincarnation au where Gyro experiences deja vu and misplaced memories from Phantom Blood and Battle Tendency during the events of SBR. 10/10 lots of feels bc reincarnation aus pair so incredibly well with gyjo gosh

nowhere to go; I’m already inside by librisdedita (31k multichaptered, major Part 7 spoilers all around) - A canon compliant gyjo fic – Johnny’s perspective on life is especially bleak in this one. OP tore my heart asunder by the end of this fic but oh man I wouldn’t have it any other way lmao

Cowboys Ain’t Easy To Love by jotarosgirl17 (36k multichaptered, Part 7 spoilers) - A series of interconnected slowburn gyjo canon compliant fics, suuuper heavy on angst and period-typical homophobia and internalised homophobia. Very good for a cry … or ten lmao

see you when the sun sets east by mourn (nsfw 2k oneshot) - Two cowboys sit five feet apart from each other not talking about their repressed feelings yeehaw. Jokes aside this is a quick but intimately tender glimpse into the beginning of Johnny and Gyro’s relationship

Spin This! by polyphenols (17k multichaptered) - A modern day office au where Diego works at a new tech startup named Steel Ball Run. Honestly, I don’t think I could ever properly articulate how much I love this fic – It’s full of sooo many nods and easter eggs to all the bizarre eccentricities that happen in part 7′s canon, and I think nearly every major/minor character gets featured one way or another, if not all (everyone works in the same horrifyingly open air office space after all). The witty banter and dialogue between characters are so snappy and succinct you can’t help but smile or laugh while reading along. Diego in particular stars as the long suffering Straight Man and audience surrogate into the madness that is SBR, with a lowkey crush on HP that slowly builds as the fic progresses (there’s background gyjo too!). While there’s more of a central focus on Part 7 at first, characters from other parts also make an appearance and gradually become more involved as well. I can’t rec this fic enough!!!

Diamond Ball Run by polyphenols (15k multichaptered, Part 7 endgame spoilers) - A gyjo fix-it of sorts … Johnny takes up Funny Valentine’s offer and asks for an Alternate Universe Gyro. The fic is mostly told from Alt Gyro’s perspective in the later half, and argh this makes my heart ache in so many ways I didn’t know were possible god help me –

happy new year, johnny by 3kanite (7k oneshot, Part 7 endgame spoilers) - Aaaah I just read this one today lmao – The fic is written from Johnny’s POV over the course of several new year celebrations – pre-race and during SBR canon. It really nails Johnny’s characterisations and personality shifts down nicely and makes the last year spent with Gyro that much more bittersweet and heartbreaking oh why won’t these part 7 feels stop coming for me

desperado by 3kanite (35k multichaptered) - Features missing scenes that take place during the events of SBR – Admittedly I’ve only read the first two chapters so far and haven’t fully processed things yet but I’m already so caught up in these pre-slash gyjo feels that I can’t help but rec this one catch me crying behind Owson’s @ 3am bc it’s just that good urgh I need an adult Could possibly be nsfw but I haven’t gotten that far in yet obvs

Aaaand that’s about it for now! Hopefully some of these interested you haha. Go show these wonderful OPs some love because they deserve it!!!

#anon #asks #this hyper fixation is going to be the death of me god #look @ all these fics i can't hold all these feels

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marvelous-avengers · 5 years

Text

stay

a/n: i finished this at 1.45am this morning because i have a lot of thoughts and haven’t had very nice ones about myself lately. so why not write a fic about a better ending then i have by myself at home? sorry its kind of shitty

summary: You think you should go when some negative thoughts take over, but Bucky wants you to stay.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: negativity/self deprecation, it’s kinda shitty sorry y’all

A heavy groan parts shaky lips as a hard and toned body rolls off of you, and you sigh, breathing into the cool evening air coming in through the open window. You’re still trying to catch your breath, mouth wide as you stare at the ceiling, hands reaching blindly for the sheet to cover your chest. Bucky settles himself next to you, one arm still under the pillow perched beneath your head. You close your eyes and bite your bottom lip.

“Damn,” he whispers into the dark room.

You find the strength to chuckle just a bit, hands resting on your abdomen. You turn your head to look at him and see his eyes closed, basking in all the post-coital bliss. You want to reach out and touch him, kiss him, but you stop yourself and instead sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest.

“Where are ya goin’?”

You reach for a shirt on the floor–ironically, his–and pull it on before standing. His voice is hinted with something–sadness? You suddenly feel so silly. “Just the bathroom.”

You don’t hear his response as you nearly run to the bathroom to relieve yourself. After you wash your hands, you splash some water on your face. You give yourself another moment as you pat your skin dry, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

You never really expected this to happen–don’t really remember how it started. You weren’t really someone that just did this; there were usually feelings involved. And in this situation, they are. For you, at least.

It was easy to like Bucky. He was kind, and smart, and stupidly handsome. Funny, compassionate, endearing. He had been your friend for years, and it was so easy to like him. Too easy. One night he had just stood a little too close and looked at you just like that with those eyes, and you were done for. The rest was really history.

This isn’t the first time it’s happened. It’s been going on for a few weeks, maybe a couple months or so, and it was kind of driving you insane, because you weren’t really sure where you stood. There were no feelings declared, nothing specific that you could remember. There were nights where you would hang out, have dinner, or go to the bar, or be at his apartment just like this. Not that you were really complaining–it was the most sex you’ve had in a while, and he was very good at it. He’d kiss you and play with your fingers and make you feel like you were the only person in the entire world. You just didn’t know if you were the only person.

Out of everyone, every girl he could have his way with, what drew him to you? Why you? It didn’t make any sense, not to your anxious self at least.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, every negative thought starts to circle in your head. You bring up the shirt just a little, placing your other hand on your lower stomach. Your eyes pinpoint every flaw you think you see as your mind starts to dissect and expand it. You bite your lower lip, and with each loop the pessimistic words are getting louder and louder.

You have to get out of here.

Another moment later finds you back in the bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible as you gather your clothes. Bucky is now curled towards your vacant spot, seemingly asleep, and something turns in your stomach. You so desperately want to just slip back in next to him and pretend like you belong there, but that nagging voice is urging you to run while you still can. Sometimes you listen to it and indulge yourself of Bucky, of his presence and warmth, but right now, that voice is winning.

“There you are.” His voice startles you a bit as you shuffle into your underwear, and you turn to see that he’s still curled into the spot, eyes closed. “Thought you’d fallen in.”

You gulp. “Sorry,” is all you can manage.

He opens his eyes with a frown to see you rummaging for your clothes. “What’re you doin’, doll?”

You don’t dare look at him, at his disappointed face. You can feel it in your side. It’s making it hard to think of an excuse. “It’s late, and I have work in the morning.”

“It’s after midnight, Y/N, you’re not going anywhere.” He shifts to hold himself up on his elbow, voice still kind as he continues. “I mean, if you really want to, you can, I’ll get dressed and–”

“No,” you cut him off, and his eyes narrow slightly as he watches you thumb the hem of the shirt, “it’s okay, I’ll stay.” Your feet are cemented to the floor, it seems, as your brain continues to rack around for something to say, for some kind of exit strategy.

“Y/N.” His eyes are just as soft as his voice when you finally meet them. Your throat has gone dry and you can’t hear the negative thoughts in your head. “C’mere, please.”

You let out a slow breath as you move and climb back into bed next to him. He doesn’t move, instead watching you as you settle on your back. His free hand traces your arm gently as he gazes down at you. “What’s goin’ on, Y/N?”

You bite down on your lip, fingers picking at the sheet as you avoid his eyes again. “I just thought that I should leave, is all.”

He sounds confused. “Why?”

You shrug. “I just figured you might not want me to stay.”

“What?” You finally look at him and he looks like a puppy that’s been kicked. “Y/N, why would you think that? I always want you to stay.”

“What?” You sit up, and Bucky follows. “But you’re you.” He gives you another look, and you use his silence to continue, ignoring the rapid beating of your heart. “How could–how could you want me? What are we even doing here, Bucky?”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

“I just–” your mind is racing so fast that words aren’t even registering. You press the heel of your hands into your forehead and sigh, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “You’re you and I’m me. It doesn’t match up. Every time I look in the mirror I don’t understand and I see every negative thing about myself and how there are a million other people out there that would be a way better fit and I just, I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s driving me insane.”

You’re crying now and he just pulls you into his lap, curling his arms around you. “Shh, doll. It’s okay. What did you think we were doing here?”

“I don’t know!” You cry out, and Bucky just chuckles. You smack his arm and try to push him away, but you don’t go far, considering you’re still planted in his lap.

He takes both of his hands and holds your face, softly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Darlin’, when I first asked if you wanted to get drinks, I was asking ya out on a date. I thought that’s what we’ve been doin’ all along. M’Sorry if I didn’t make that clear.” He brings your face to his, kissing you tenderly and you gingerly place your hands on his bare chest. The negative voice is still shouting, though very far away, and getting farther with each moment.

He pulls away only to peck your lips again. His eyes search yours, silently pleading. “This isn’t a ‘wham, bam, thank ya ma’am’ kinda thing.” One of his hands goes through your hair to stroke your back, and he smiles as you nearly purr in his embrace. “I really like you, doll, and I really like spending time with you.”

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. As you look at him, you don’t see what the voice has been saying. There is no negative words, no pulling away or disgust, no belittling. His arms are firm and comforting around you, eyes soft and tender, words honest. Your heart skips a beat.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say, curling your hands around the back of his neck. “I just–sometimes when I see these negative things about myself they are the only things I can see. It cycles and I panic and I thought that there was someone better that you deserved out there, and that I don’t deserve you.”

“Baby,” he coos, hand softly guiding you to look at him. His eyes are clear and you want to swim in them. “I deserve everything that I want, which is you. And so do you.” You gulp. “You are so much more than those negative thoughts, and they aren’t even true.” He takes both of his hands and skims them up and down your sides and thighs, making you involuntarily shiver.

“I adore every inch of you, darlin’. You are beautiful and intelligent and I thank whoever’s up there that you let me have you the way that I do. In any way.”

You feel the warmth bursting through your chest and seeping into your bones, and you bury yourself into him, making him chuckle. He simply hugs you to his body. “I do want you, Bucky. I really like you, too.”

“Good, ‘cuz I’m not letting you go any time soon.” He kisses the top of your head before settling you both down into bed. You curl into his chest, content and free of any negative thoughts. Bucky smiles, kissing the top of your head and holding you close as you drift into a peaceful slumber, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

#jess writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluf #bucky barnes imagine #marvel drabble #fic #fluffy #angst

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redbeanboi · 5 years

Text

need feedback (please? lol)

wip/excerpt from chapter 6 of my Giorno/(F)Reader fic, which can be found here

warning: do not read if you haven’t read chapter 5 yet! or you can i guess, it’s up to you

Rating: Mature

this will probably be inserted somewhere in the middle of the chapter

There was thunder that night, and plenty of it.

You woke abruptly from a dream (some memory from your wedding day, you think,) and peer around the room, only to find yourself drowning in a sea of black. There was no moon tonight, and the only light you could see were from the flashes of lightning peeking through the curtains in your room. It must be well past midnight.

The flashing beckons you away from your room, and shortly afterwards you find yourself silently padding around the hallways of the house with a flashlight. Turning on the lights seems like a terrible waste of energy, and you rather liked the dark. Seeing shadows form on the walls as you crept past statues and drapes and other pieces of furniture was less a frightful sight than it was an enchantment, so you allow yourself to delight in some of the shapes these objects take when the lights hit them differently.

A chair could only ever be a chair, but in the dark, when a bit of light hit it in just the right spot, it could look very much like a throne. Your own shadow seemed to drag on and on for meters in the hallways, much to your own amusement. You were not nearly as tall as your husband or the bulk of his underlings, but in the dark and the shadows, you could look just as tall as the rest of them.

By then you wonder if there’s any experimentation you could do with your own abilities; surely the concept of shadow puppetry wasn’t too ridiculous a concept to transfer over to your own stand. You hadn’t really bothered to experiment with it or test it beyond its primary abilities, but perhaps…

No, You thought with a laugh. Surely I’d know such things by now.

Sometime after this, you near the end of a corridor on the third floor when another flash of lightning rips through the sky, and although you’re tempted to go to the nearest window to sit and watch, something else gathers your attention.

Giuseppe.

He was most likely sleeping with his father; they’d made it a bit of a custom, which gave you plenty of time in the mornings to do other things while your husband and son spent the early hours of the morning together. You were certain that you would find them both, together, in Giorno’s room, and waste no time whilst walking towards the eastern wing of the second floor, where Giorno’s suite was.

As you reach your husband’s rooms, you notice the tiny flecks of light peeking through the bottom of the door. So he is awake, you mused. A wonder I haven’t heard Giuseppe’s cries yet. And if it were Giuseppe who had woken Giorno, he was clearly doing a good job of placating him. By the time you reach his door, you grow unsure, uncertain on whether your presence would be welcome at such an hour. But this is Giorno; he’d begun seeking your company on his own accord.

Perhaps—

You raised your hand to the hardwood oak and tap your knuckles once, twice, three times, before you receive some kind of an answer.

“Who do you think that is, Giuseppe?” asked a tired voice. If you were to press your ear against the door, you could hear Giuseppe’s whimpers; Giorno must have been up for at least a half-hour now, at least when that first crack of thunder had woken you, trying to comfort his son. Our son, you remind yourself.

“It’s me.” You announced. “Well, your wife, I should say—”

The door opened long before you finished. Giuseppe peeked his small head out through the opening first, sniffling and clutching at his father’s chest. Giorno’s face greets you soon after.

“Bona sera,” He said, clearly fatigued and overworked. “I’m guessing you’re here to see—”

“I’m here to see you both,” You said quietly. Giorno blinked at you sleepily, unsure if he’d heard you correctly. You select a lighthearted tone, hoping to ease a bit of the tension. “Are you afraid of thunder, Don Giorno?”

He chuckled a little, suddenly awake. “Me? Not so much… But, Giuseppe…”

“May I?” You asked, craning your neck and looking into the room. Giorno stepped aside with a tired smile.

“Please.”

His room was neater now, though you note that it still smelled of lavender and blood oranges. You smiled as the scent reached your nose, closing your eyes in content while Giorno shut the door behind you. As he walks to his room, you tread close behind, taking note of the changes, subtle though they are. You recently ordered a new set of silk drapes for the windows throughout the house, lighter than the bulkier linens from before and thin enough to allow some light to pass through in the early hours of the day. Giorno enjoyed looking outside the windows in the mornings, so you’d hoped he would appreciate waking up as the sun softly lit every room of the estate. The heavier drapes were still there, but these were pulled aside, a sign that your small gesture had not gone unnoticed or unappreciated—you can’t help but conjure an image of Giorno sitting up in bed at dawn and smiling contentedly as he rose to ready himself for the rest of the day.

The biggest change, you had found, was in his own room.

There was a crib beside Giorno’s bed now, smaller than the other one in the nursery, but clearly of the same maker and made of plain chestnut and decorated with small delicate carvings along the top ledge. Your husband was fond of fine and meticulous craftsmanship, as made clear in the quality of the materials (a fine wood, sturdy enough on the legs and body, but supple enough in the side panels) and the detail in the delicate vines and flowers etched into the wood. You ran your fingers along the designs, watching Giuseppe carefully when Giorno lowered him into the crib.

“How long has this been in your room?” You asked, smiling down at Giuseppe as he held your finger and babbled at you. You bent over the edge of the crib and nuzzled the top of his head. “Do you like it, Giuseppe?” You try your best to ignore that intense stare from Giorno, a feeling you’d become more and more aware of but never grown quite accustomed to.

“I had it made last week,” explained Giorno. “One of my capos said that bed sharing with infants is a little dangerous, but I wanted Giuseppe to know that I was close by should he have need of me.” You hummed in acknowledgement.

He’s a good father. “Your Papà loves you very much, doesn’t he tesoro? My spoiled little prince,” You said to Giuseppe in a singsong voice.

Giorno lifted his head to look at you. “I--”

The house shook once more when another crack of thunder ripped through the sky, and though Giuseppe had just begun to calm down, the noise had frightened him once more.

Fears in children were delicate matters; most of them are learned from adults, taught by example and reinforced over the years. It wouldn’t become too much of an immediate problem, considering Giuseppe slept beside his father, but in a few years, a fear of thunder could become a regular nightly disturbance to Giorno’s sleeping schedule.

You grab Giorno’s wrist before he touches Giuseppe and shook your head. “You can’t coddle him so much,” He was not pleased with this. “If you do this, he’ll learn to run to you whenever he’s afraid.”

“Is that not what he’s supposed to do?”

“Yes and no,” You said.

Giorno had not been raised by ideal parents, which was not a fault of his own, but certainly informed a great deal of his approach towards parenting. You would need to communicate your point well, and with some tact. Communicating through practiced and rehearsed speech with strangers was all well and fine, but going through it all blindly and with someone as dear to you as Giorno were entirely different things. How would you show him this misstep without breaking this confidence he’d found as a father?

“I once looked after a child who was afraid of the dark,” You started.

Giorno nodded. “Your father told me that you often looked after your nieces and nephews before we married.”

“Yes, I did… And this particular child always snuck into her father’s bed at odd hours of the night, or would wake him and keep them both awake for hours on end.”

Giorno understood and considered that for a moment. “This will only trouble us further down, won’t it? Perhaps not thunderstorms, but something else.” Something that would be unavoidable and teach Giuseppe that he could cower over every little thing as long as his father was around.

“I used Disturbia—”

“On a child?” Giorno looked surprised.

“Let me finish,” You said, shoving him playfully. “I only made small shadow puppets, that’s all.” A gesture that taught this girl that there was little to fear in the dark, that it could actually be quite nice. “I’m sure there’s something we can do about him…”

“I have an idea,” Your husband said at once.

He leaned over the edge of the crib. You wonder if he might use his stand, but instead he began to fold the entirety of his right ear onto itself, tucking it away until it vanished inside his head. Slowly the whimpers died down and laughter took its place. You watch them both—Giorno, smiling softly as a pair of small chubby hands grab at his ear, and Giuseppe laughing at his father and sighing back into his small blanket—and begin to think that perhaps joy has not been lost to you after all.

Oh how sweet would it be, to stay like this forever. But now you had to return to your own room.

Just as you glance at the clock, wondering what the hour was, Giorno spoke.

“Would you like to sleep here?” he asks.

You glanced at the bed quickly. “I fear there might not be a place for me here.”

You never slept here. On the occasions that you and Giorno decide to spend a few hours together, your room was the sensible option, and even then you never dared to linger beside one another longer than you felt necessary. Often at times Giorno would slip back into his robe and retreat to his room as soon as the deed was finished. Neither of you complained, of course. It was never personal, after all.

At any rate, Giorno’s room always felt off limits, and though he offered on several occasions, you always sensed that it was a mere courtesy. Something tells you that he felt pity towards you tonight.

“Y/n,” He started.

“I do not wish to intrude...” A terrible excuse, you realize, but you hope it’s enough. Giorno is unconvinced.

“Intrude?” He asked with a laugh. “I can assure you that there’s room enough for six people on this bed,” says Giorno. His smile was gentle.

You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, and certainly not after all that’s happened in the past few days. Perhaps Giorno could sense this. He was getting rather good at reading you.

“I could sleep in the parlor,” You offered immediately. Welcoming yourself onto his bed seemed awfully forward.

---

And that’s all for that scene for now! still in the middle of finishing it. Should I keep it? Scrap it? Move it to the next chapter? I’m not sure what I want to do with it yet.

see you soon. xx

#bbp #previews #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #jjba fic #fic:bbp

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shawnstoriesx · 5 years

Text

Old Times Pt 1

heylo! sorry for being so inactive i was a busy girl and i rlly just couldn’t figure out how to continue the fics i started so i just made a whole new one XD anywayz i will get back to those until then ! feedback would be greatly appreciated! thanks for sticking around i love youuuuuuuu

YN climbed out her bedroom window and onto the roof of her house, letting out a small groan when she heard loud yelling downstairs. So much for a peaceful evening.

With a pizza box clutched in one hand and a light blanket in the other, she rushed her way to the front of her house. At first glance, the trek from YN’s bedroom window would seem tricky but she’d grown used to it. Every Thursday night for the past 4 years, YN’s roof had been the designated hang out spot for her and her neighbor. YN could probably do this blindfolded. She quickly set down the blanket and pizza box before lying down on the blanket too, staring up at the setting sky. It was the day before her high school graduation and YN’s body was pounding with emotions. Her nerves were on edge. She couldn’t wait to graduate and was excited for the next chapter of her life but was also anxious about starting college and leaving all her friends behind. Or rather her friends were all leaving her. They’d all chosen out of state schools that were hundreds of miles away while YN had opted for a school that was just a 30 minute drive. At least she still had Shawn. Shawn was her neighbor and she’d been his first new friend when he moved here the summer before their freshmen year. They’d been good friends ever since and although they didn’t hang out at school, being part of different crowds, Shawn and YN talked almost every day, whether it be in person, through text, or by writing on paper and pressing it up to their bedroom windows which were directly across from each other. Shawn had opted to dorm to get the “whole college experience” so YN was comforted by the fact that he’d always be on campus. Perhaps they could even hang out together once school started. Speaking of which, YN checked her phone to see the time. 7:15 PM. Shawn was only 15 minutes late to their standing hangout so YN didn’t think much of it. This was their last hangout as high schoolers and probably their last in a while since they’d be away all summer. YN and her family were going on vacation the first half of summer and Shawn was going on a road trip with his friends for the last half so this was kind of an important one to YN and probably to Shawn too. He was probably just caught up at work and running a little late. YN went back to looking up at the sky and perusing her thoughts. Another 15 minutes passed and it was starting to get chilly. YN walked back to her bedroom window to quickly grab a jacket. Texting Shawn probably would be a good idea too. Walking back to her spot on the front of the roof, YN unlocked her phone and started to type a message when she heard noise coming from her neighbor’s front yard. Shawn’s front yard specifically. He’s here! YN steadily made her way to the front of her house but stopped midway upon hearing multiple voices from Shawn’s yard. “Thanks for the ride man. I’ve been meaning to get my bike fixed.” Shawn yelled out and then YN heard a car door shut. “No problem!” another voice called out while another one yelled “Hurry up and change! We’re already late to the bonfire.” Bonfire? YN quickly ducked down behind the peak of her roof and peered up into Shawn’s yard. There was a truck packed with 3 boys and after a few minutes, Shawn jogged out of his house in swim trunks and a backpack slung over his back. “Your parents cool with you going out with us?” “Yeah.” Shawn shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything else to do today.” YN stayed hidden behind her roof until she was sure that Shawn and his friends had left. She quietly walked back to where she had placed the pizza box and blanket earlier in the evening, picked everything up, and returned to her bedroom. It was just another hangout, YN thought. There really wasn’t anything special about it. They’d been doing this every week for the past 4 years so it should’ve lost its charm but YN couldn’t help but feel hurt. She pulled her blankets over her frame and shut her eyes. She’ll just call it an early night.

“YN! Honey! Do you have class today?”

YN groggily woke up to the sound of her mother calling from the kitchen downstairs. She let out a tired groan. She’d stayed up late last night to finish an essay but at least she got it done with. Sure she was feeling a bit sleep deprived but as soon as she submitted this essay in class, YN would finally be done with all of the finals from her first year of college.

She blindly reached around her bed to find her phone, letting out another frustrated groan when she heard it fall off her bed and onto the floor. YN tried to unlock her phone...but it wasn’t turning on.

YN cursed under her breath. She must’ve forgotten to charge it last night. YN plugged it into its charger and made her way to her restroom to get ready for school.

“YN! Aren’t you going to be late?”

Late? “What time is it Mom?”

“8:45.”

“FUCK! Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” YN yelled. Her class started at 9 AM.

Her mother muttered something unintelligible as she scrambled to the sink and hastily brushed her teeth before running back to her room and haphazardly throwing on clothes she found lying around her room before flying down the stairs and running to her car.

YN started the engine and was backing out of her driveway when she noticed her mom running out of the doorway...with YN’s backpack in her arms.

“Thanks Mom.” YN said sheepishly as she rolled down her windows so that her mom could push the backpack in.

Her mom simply laughed, threw out a quick “Love you,” and walked back into the house.

***

45 minutes later, because of course the one time YN had woken up late all year was also the day there was an insane amount of traffic and congestion, YN pulled into the school parking lot and sprinted out and to her class.

YN arrived, out of breath, just as students were beginning to file out of the lecture hall. She’d made it just in time. She could sneak in right now and slip her essay into the pile and everything would be alright.

“YN!” a voice called and she looked up to see her friend Belinda walking over. “Where were you? I’ve been texting you nonstop!”

“Sorry!” YN gasped in between breaths. “My phone died so my alarm didn’t go off. But it’s all good.” YN let out a weak smile and raised the hand that was grasping onto her paper. “Got here just in time to.” But that smile quickly washed off her face when she noticed Belinda’s concerned look.

“YN. He collected the essays at the beginning of class.”

***

YN made her way to the front of the hall where she saw another student deep in conversation with the professor. She took in a deep breathe to calm herself down and prepared what she was going to say. If he just checked her grades on all the other assignments for this class, he’d see that she was a stellar student. Today was just a slight slip up.

“Can I help you?”

She snapped out of her thoughts and saw that the professor and the other student were looking at her. “Uhh...I came late.” YN stuttered, holding up her essay. Very eloquent YN.

“You too?” her professor sighed.

YN’s eyes glanced to the other student and she looked rather frustrated. That didn’t bode well.

“Look, I can’t accept your essays. They were due at the beginning of class and I have a strict no tolerance late work policy.” YN’s face must’ve visibly fallen because her professor quickly laughed. “But...I am in a good mood so you two ladies can collaborate on a presentation responding to the essay prompt. Record the presentation and send it to me by midnight Sunday. How does that sound?”

The two girls nodded their heads in agreement and relief before walking out together.

“How do you want to do this? I’m Zara by the way.”

YN muttered a small sigh of relief. Yes! A partner who would take charge and wouldn’t leave YN to do all the work. She flashed Zara a small smile. “I’m YN! And we should start today. Plan today, film Saturday, and edit Sunday.”

Zara frowned. “I can’t do tonight...I’m having an end of the year party at my place.” she responded simply.

“Oh.” YN deadpanned. So Zara was probably the type to push all the work on YN. “When does it start?”

“7 ish”

“Was this your last class?”

“No. I have class until 12.”

“Same here. Can we meet after 12 and we can finish when you need to get ready for your party?” YN mentally patted herself on the back. There was no way Zara could get out of this.

“Yeah fine.” sighed. “Give me your number. We can meet at my house.”

***

YN pulled into Zara’s driveway where she was quickly rushed into a small room cramped in the very back of the house by the host herself.

“Look I have people coming over later to help me set up so I’ll be in and out a lot to check on them.” Zara said matter of factly as she sat beside YN and pulled out her laptop.

An hour in, a loud commotion came from the front of the house and Zara sprung to her feet to open the door for her friends. YN continued working on the presentation and didn’t notice how long Zara had been away until she was halfway through making the slideshow presentation.

She could hear laughter coming from outside of the room so she figured that she’d slip out quickly to remind Zara they had a presentation to work on. YN creaked the door open and peaked through the crack. She could see people gathered in the kitchen and as soon as she opened the door, YN was met with the aroma of pizza. YN took a few quick breaths to muster up some courage and confidently walked out to confront Zara.

“Uh hey, Zara. I got about halfway done with the presentation but I kinda need your help on it so whenever you’re free.” YN said as she walked into the other girl’s kitchen.

The conversation halted and everyone in the room turned to stare at YN. Suddenly quite self-conscious, YN’s eyes darted away from the others’ gaze and onto the pizza box on the counter.

“Do you want some pizza YN?” a gentle voice asked. A voice that definitely wasn’t Zara’s. A voice that was definitely male.

YN looked up and her face dropped. Standing on the other side of the counter was Shawn Mendes. Her ex-neighbor and ex-friend. The one who bailed on their last hangout. The one she hadn’t spoken a single word to since before their graduation.

“I’m good. Thanks.” YN responded coldly before shifting her body to face Zara. She didn’t have to shift far though since Zara was standing beside Shawn. In fact, his arm was slung around her shoulders. Interesting.

“Just join me when you’re done and I’ll be out of your way.” And with that YN walked back to the room she was in earlier and worked on the presentation with newfound rigor and focus. She just wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible and if that meant finishing without Zara, then so be it.

***

She stayed focused on her laptop screen when YN heard the door creak open. “I’m about done with the presentation so we can wrap this up probably within the hour and-“

“Hi YN.”

YN stopped typing to look up at Shawn who had just closed the door behind him. Now that they were both crammed into this room, YN could see that he’d changed quite a bit since they last saw each other. His hair was longer and curlier. He’d bulked up quite a bit. And...was that a piercing in his ear?

“Zara said you came over as soon as both of you got out of class so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten lunch yet...so I brought you pizza.” Shawn brought a plate out from behind his back and offered it to YN. “It was pepperoni but I know you don’t like that so I picked off all the pepperoni for you.” he added with a smile.

YN stared blankly at the plate and boy in front of her. Once upon a time she probably would’ve appreciated the offer and the fact that Shawn remembered how she liked her pizza but that was the old YN. She’s since changed. “Thanks but I’m not very hungry.” She started typing away and that was the only noise that filled the room for several moments until YN noticed that Shawn was still standing there.

She mustered up a weak smile. “I’m fine. Honest. I don’t really like pizza anyways.”

Shawn’s brows furrowed. “But cheese pizza is your favorite.”

“It WAS my favorite. Things changed.” YN went back to typing, hoping that Shawn got the hint to leave her alone.

Instead, he took a seat beside her. “So…” Shawn started. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

YN secretly rolled her eyes and gave a curt nod.

“Probably since the summer. Move in day maybe?”

“Graduation.” she corrected him.

He let out what YN would’ve described as a nervous laugh. “Yeah right. We probably saw each other-“

“No. It was graduation.” she cut in firmly. Or rather it was a couple days before graduation. They hadn’t even spoken to each other during their ceremony. But who was keeping track...Certainly not YN.

“Damn.” he whispered softly.

Another beat of quiet passed.

“How’s life been?”

“Good.”

“Oh...that’s good to hear. Where do you live now?”

“Other side of town.” YN paused before adding “I’m planning on staying with my dad this summer though.”

YN instantly regretted saying that. Saying that she’d be back in her old house this summer. The house that was right next to Shawn’s. It was like she was hoping to get to see Shawn and hang out with him again and that was far from the truth. She wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

She quickly shut her laptop and rushed to put her belongings back in her backpack. “Look I think I’m gonna head back now. Can you tell Zara that I’ll finish the last few slides at home and we’ll text to meet tomorrow to film.”

“Wait-you’re not staying for the party?”

YN let out a quick laugh and shook her head. “Not really my thing. And I don’t really know Zara so I’d feel weird.”

“You know me though.”

She flashed Shawn a weird look, trying to get a read on if Shawn was being serious or not. They haven’t exchanged a single word in the past year and he was acting as if nothing had changed between them. As if they were still friends and neighbors.

“I’m good.” she smiled. YN walked out, muttered her goodbyes to Zara and her other friends who were all laughing at some joke, and got into her car.

***

It was now Saturday morning and Zara was expected to come over any moment now. YN finished up the slides last night and they both agreed to film at YN’s house since Zara’s place was probably a mess from the party last night.

She’d just finished setting up the mic when she heard a car pull up in her driveway. YN peeked her head into the kitchen where her mother was cooking to announce that her partner was here and ask if she could open the door while YN ran to the restroom really quickly. When YN returned, she was shocked to see her mom and Zara sitting in the living room...with Shawn.

“YN! Oh great! You won’t believe who dropped Zara off. It’s been a while since I last saw you huh Shawn.”

She snapped out of her daze and sat beside her mom on the couch across from Zara and Shawn. “Yeah uh hi guys.”

“So do you guys see each other a lot at school?” her mother innocently asked.

“No. Not really.” YN answered in monotone.

“Yeah I guess we’ve just been busy. And it’s a big campus.” Shawn answered with a bit more inflection.

YN couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, which pulled a frown from both her mom and Shawn.

“Anyways...I should get going. I just came to drop Zara off” he said before turning to Zara. “Text me when you’re about done.”

“Oh why don’t you stay and we can catch up Shawn! YN said the recording shouldn’t take more than an hour. It’ll save you the trip.”

Zara’s expression perked up at the suggestion and YN practically twisted her neck to shoot her mom a look that expressed “No. Why?”

“Uh if that’s fine with you that’d be great.” Shawn smiled.

“Great! I’ll get some snacks for you kids!” YN’s mom bustled out of the living room to grab whatever she could find in the kitchen, leaving YN, Shawn, and Zara alone.

After a couple seconds of the 3 of them just sitting there and staring at each other, Zara broke the silence. “So let’s hurry this up.”

YN and Zara worked quickly in another room while Shawn and her mom caught up in the living room. The loud laughter and conversation from the room did very little to distract the girls from recording. YN figured they were both eager to wrap up quickly and go on with their Saturday plans. After all, it was supposed to be summer break. Shawn and Zara were dressed to go to the beach or a pool party and YN had a date with her bed and Netflix.

“Okie I think that’s good. We just have to edit and then we’re done.” Zara declared confidently.

“Editing shouldn’t take too long either. Great job! How do you want editing to go? We can meet up or you edit one half and I edit the other half?”

“I don’t think we should split up the editing. It’ll just look and sound weird.”

YN nodded. “Good point. What time are you free tomorrow?”

Zara frowned. “The thing is...I’m not free tomorrow. I’m flying back home at 11 AM. And it’s a 6 hour flight.”

“Oh.” YN’s mind raced with ideas to work this out because there is no way in hell that she’d be editing this all by herself again. “Why don’t you just stay behind a bit. And we can edit together.”

“Shawn and I actually have plans.”

YN let out a frustrated sigh. She was really done with this and just wanted Shawn and Zara out of her house. “Fine. How about I finish editing today and then I’ll send it to you and you look over it before your flight?”

Her partner’s face instantly lit up at the suggestion. “Great! Look at us! Teamwork makes the dream work.” Zara picked up her laptop and made her way back to the living room with YN following in defeat.

“Done?” Shawn asked when he saw the two girls enter the room.

“Yep! YN just has to edit!” Zara answered excitedly as she slid into the seat beside Shawn.

Shawn flashed YN a smile to acknowledge her presence and noted her sullen expression. “Err Zara...are you editing too?”

“No. I have my flight tomorrow remember? YN is going to do it and then I’ll look over it before we turn it in. You wanna go now?”

He looked back at YN with concern. “Zara why don’t you stay and help edit for a while. We still got time and I’m still talking with Mrs…” Shawn’s eyes widened when he caught his mistake. “Sorry I mean Miss…”

YN’s mother simply laughed. “It’s alright Shawn! Just call me by my first name. We can skip all the formalities love.”

Shawn nodded and reverted his attention back to his girlfriend. “How does that sound?”

Zara shot Shawn a cold glare and begrudgingly got back up to help YN edit.

One hour later, the girls finished editing and decided to submit the assignment early just to get it over with. Zara returned to the living room with a smile, knowing that this time she and Shawn were definitely leaving.

“What are your plans for today?” YN’s mom inquired as she walked their guests to the door.

“We’re going to the beach today with some friends!” Zara responded with a smile.

“Oh that sounds nice! Have fun dears.” YN’s mom closed the door behind her and and then turned to YN.

“You going to ever tell me what happened between you and Shawn?” she asked with a raised brow.

“It’s nothing. We just stopped talking.”

“Mhm...well I hope you’re not busy today. I’m going to need you to run by the the farmer’s market to buy some food.”

#love triangle #double love triangle #is that a thing??#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #college au #shawn mendes angst #neighbors au #college!shawn #neighbor!shawn

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 5 years

Text

Favors of Fiery Wits - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Ra’s al Ghul, Maya Ducard, Kathy Branden Pairings: robinpile, MayaKathy Summary: Despite all warnings and threats, Ra’s cashed the favor they all hoped he wouldn’t. A/N: This was never meant to be a series, but then it was and now it’s over. Damian is roughly 30 here, Tim around 40. Dick and Jason are obviously both older by various amounts. I don’t mention it but the older two are probably starting to gray a little bit. They don’t bang at the end, but just cuddle until like noon and then get delivery for every single meal after that. Let’s pretend it was a Saturday or something and they’re all lazy losers. Kid’s name is bad but I’m bad at character naming haha. I made a joke about Dick’s butt and I’m so sorry. Thanks for reading this garbage of a series! :)

All For One, One For All

It was Jason who heard the phone buzzing on the nightstand. One of four, and he waited a minute to listen to the pattern, before lazily calling:

“Damian.”

He blindly slapped around for the phone until he felt his fingers wrap around it, then picked it up and flopped over, holding it in the air over the three lying next to him.

(Tim huffed when Jason’s elbow accidentally hit him in the face.)

A second later the phone was taken, the bed shifted, and Damian quietly mumbled, “This is Damian.”

Jason curled into Tim’s side, trying to drift back off even as he heard the mumbled voice on the line. But without warning, the bed jolted, and he opened his eyes to see Damian, only a shadow in the midnight darkness, sitting straight up.

The voice on the line mumbled for another few seconds. Then there was silence. But when Damian spoke again, it was soft, but wide awake.

“I’m on my way.”

Jason tried to blink away his sleep as Damian stood up. Dick, whom he’d been wrapped around, moaned at the loss, but curled into Tim’s other side to maintain his warmth, probably assuming Damian would be back in a few moments.

But judging by the fact that his first stop was the dresser, where he pulled out multiple sets of clothing, then disappeared into the closet and came back with a duffle bag, Jason doubted that would be the case.

“Dames?” He whispered. He saw Damian stiffen. “Where’s the fire?”

“It’s nothing, Todd.” Damian returned as gently as he could. “Go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

“…Nowhere of importance.” Damian offered. “Go back to sleep, Jason. I’ll…be back in a few days.”

“That sounded less than confident.”

But before Damian could answer, Dick asked sleepily, “Who was on the phone?”

Damian didn’t even offer an excuse.

“Damian?” Dick tried. Tim shifted between them, trying to push up onto his elbow. “Who was on the phone?”

Jason’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he could see that Damian had turned away from them, refused to look in their direction. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 3:41am.

“Damian?” Dick asked again, almost in a whine. He clearly wanted to go back to sleep. Wanted Damian to return to his side. “Who called you? Was it Bruce? Does he ne-”

“It was Ra’s.”

Tim became rigid under Jason’s hands, and Dick jerked up just as fast as Damian originally had.

“No.” Dick growled. “You’re not going.”

“I have to.” Damian pushed back, resuming his haphazard packing. “You know that.”

“You don’t.” Dick shook his head.

“Oh, so you want him to come collect Drake instead?” Damian spit, already stressed and frustrated. “Just let me go take care of this. I’m not asking you to come with me. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. Now go back to sleep, all of you. It shouldn’t take me more than a few days. When I return, we can celebrate finally being free of that twat of an old man.”

Dick shook his head again in anger, clearly biting his tongue. He glanced back at Tim and Jason. “…What’d he ask you to do?”

“He didn’t say. Just said he was redeeming his favor and to arrive in his company posthaste.” Damian explained, throwing his clothes in the bag. “So the sooner I get this done, the sooner I’ll be home.”

“Yeah, pass on that shit.” Dick hissed, throwing the covers off himself and standing. He stomped over to Damian and took hold of his elbows. The two stared at each other in the dark, Dick’s face stern, Damian’s guilty, silently conversing. Eventually, Damian sighed and looked away, and Dick gathered him up in his arms.

“Damian’s going to finish packing, and I’m going to go get the jet and gear ready to go.” Dick called over to the bed. “Jason, I’ll trust Tim to you, along with any other previsions we may need.”

Jason nodded as Dick released Damian and quickly left the room. Then, after a second of hesitation, he rolled practically on top of Tim, apologetically kissing his cheek. “…You doing okay?”

“No.” Tim said shortly, leaning into Jason’s face. “I hate this. I hate Ra’s.”

“We all do.” Jason soothed. “But we can’t let him go on his own. And, you’re going to be mad, but I agree with Damian – we can’t not answer the call.”

He felt Tim swallow. “…What do you think he’s going to ask him to do?”

“I don’t know, love.” Jason admitted. “I just…have no idea. So, we’ve just got to…hope for the best and prepare for the absolute worst, I guess.”

Damian suddenly appeared next to the bed, yanking the drawer of the nightstand open and digging through it. Jason carefully rolled off of Tim, allowing him to sit up, and reached out for Damian’s wrist.

“I’m sorry I gave you the phone.” He whispered.

Damian smiled sadly, and leaned down to kiss them both.

It wasn’t like the last time they arrived at the compound. The assassins weren’t poised to strike this time. Instead, they just lined the walls, hands on weapons. Welcoming them, but cautiously.

Also unlike last time, it wasn’t Damian storming through the halls like an angry bull, but Dick. Fists tight to his side, and every step a stomp.

Damian didn’t try to comfort him. Just walked side by side with him, glancing at him every few minutes. He understood the other’s anger, obviously.

Jason and Tim brought up the rear, leisurely holding hands.

As they approached the doors, two League members silently opened them. When they crossed the threshold, Damian gently hooked his fingers into two of Dick’s, and gently tugged him to walk behind him. Dick begrudgingly allowed it.

Ra’s was slowly standing from his throne as the four made their way across the floor. Dick, Jason and Tim stopped about three-fourths of the way, watching as Damian stood at his grandfather’s feet.

“Damian.” Ra’s sneered.

“Old man.” Damian returned just as rudely. He crossed his arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ra’s chuckled, but turned back to his chair and picked up a folder that had been tucked along the arm. He flipped it through the air and Damian caught it with ease.

Damian opened silently, skimming the front page. Suddenly, his head shot up. “You’re not serious.”

“Very.” Ra’s nodded gravely, like the task upset him.

“What?” Dick stepped forward, trying to peek over Damian’s shoulder. “What does he want you to…”

“I need him to steal a child.” Ra’s called cheerfully.

“What.” Tim called.

“No.” Dick declared. “He’s not doing that.”

“Ah, ah, Mr. Grayson.” Ra’s raised a finger. “You remember the stipulations of the deal – he cannot refuse.”

“And you remember what I promised.” Dick growled, stepping towards the thrown. “If you cashed this favor, I would-”

“Grayson.” Damian called. “Relax.”

Dick spun around. “We’re not stealing a kid.”

“We are not.” Damian agreed. “I am.” A pause, to glance back at the file in his hands. “And it’s not a child. It’s an infant.”

“Damian-”

“Richard.” Damian shot back. “I made an oath. For Timothy’s life and for my own. I have to do this.” Then softer. “Trust me.”

Dick stared at him. God, he wanted to. Trusted him in every other aspect of his life.

“Please.”

And he didn’t know why, but he thought he saw something in Damian’s eye. A secret? Or a plan, perhaps?

He glanced back to Tim and Jason. Tim was just as frustrated as him. Arms crossed and turned away. Jason had his hands in his pockets, watching the scene quietly.

“…Fine.” Dick sighed. He gave one last furious glance to Ra’s before storming past Damian back towards the doors. “Let’s get going, then.”

“Safe travels, dear grandson.” Ra’s hummed. “To you and your lovers.”

He didn’t need to see Ra’s to know he was smiling.

There was silence on the plane.

Dick and Tim refused to speak. Too angry at Ra’s for the favor he’d chosen for Damian to complete. But then conflicted all the same. Because Ra’s didn’t ask him to kill the child, or even the parents. Just steal the child. Steal the baby. No murder, no bloodshed. Just…theft, if they got down to technicalities.

But. Still.

Jason wordlessly flew the jet. Damian sat as his copilot, reading through the file Ra’s had handed him, over and over.

“…I know the other two are pouting.” Jason mumbled after twenty minutes or so. “But you mind giving me the deets on this job at least?”

“Certainly.” Damian sniffed, sitting up slightly. “A baby boy. Almost a year old. Located in Russia.”

He glanced to the back of the plane. Tim was glaring at a wall as he twirled a spoon in a cup of tea. Dick was sitting in a seat, staring blankly out the window.

“Would you two like to hear the next part? It might make you feel better about what I’m doing.” Damian called.

Tim shook his head. “I’m just…you agreed so quickly, Damian. It’s like you didn’t even think about what you were agreeing to.” Tim looked over at him, and looked anguished. “And I know you love me – I do. And I understand you’re doing this to keep me safe, and by extension yourself. But…I’m not worth ripping a child from his family. I’m not.”

“It pains me to say it, but I agree, Beloved. None of us are worth someone else’s pain and suffering.” Damian said plainly. “That’s why I want you to listen to me. Will you do that?”

Tim looked at Dick, who hadn’t looked away from the window, and sighed, stepping towards the cockpit. “Hit me.”

Damian held up the file, like he was reading a storybook to children. “The lab his bio-chamber is being held in is in Chernobyl, along the Ukraine-Russia border.”

“…His what.” Tim whispered. Damian glanced up, and almost smirked. Dick was watching him now, with wide eyes that matched Tim’s.

“His bio-chamber. Like the womb I was grown in, or the tube your friend Kon-El was.” Damian tugged a picture from a paperclip and turned it for the others to see. A long vertical tube, with a tiny baby inside. Scientists standing around it. It was dated almost a year ago, around when the baby would have been born.

Dick stood and rushed forward now, taking the photo. Damian gave it to him, and pulled out another photo. A baby lying on a medical table. More scientists standing around. A needle dragging blood from his arm. It was dated a month or two prior.

“The intel Ra’s gave us seems to think the baby is still at the same lab, being raised underground, more or less.” Damian continued. “And being trained as I was – to be a master in everything.”

“Fuck.” Tim breathed, taking the second picture from Damian.

“Who runs the lab?” Jason growled. He hadn’t attempted to look at the photos, and Damian assumed he wouldn’t. Not when his own anger was growing now. “Or funded the project to create a baby?”

Damian flipped through the pages again. “My guess is the funder is the paternal DNA donor.” He held it up for the three to see. “Lex Luthor.”

“He’s trying to create another human-Kryptonian hybrid.” Tim declared. “Just like Conner all over again.”

He reached for the paper – a DNA test – but suddenly Dick reached out and snapped it away first.

“Damian…” He gasped. Eyes round and sad as he glanced up. Damian watched him expectantly. “The mother…”

“Yes.” Damian nodded. “I saw.”

“What?” Jason glanced back from the controls. But then he looked at Damian, and his gut told him what the answer was.

Tim leaned over, as Dick’s shoulders slumped and he said, “It’s Talia.”

Tim gaped and stared at Damian, who gave him a tired smile. “Now you see why I didn’t need to think too long about retrieving the baby.”

Dick stared at the paper even as Tim pushed past him and dragged Damian into his arms. Damian allowed the gesture. Appreciated it, truly, and thanked Tim for it with a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.

“But why?” Dick asked. “They both tried this decades ago and it didn’t work. Why again, after all these years?”

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” Jason huffed bitterly. “But with Luthor? That’s out of left field.”

“She’s got the brawn, he’s got the brain.” Tim thought out loud, shifting to let Dick take the whole file from Damian’s hands. “Objectively, their chances for raw talent is good.”

“And it was a consenting deal.” Dick read out loud as he skimmed the folder. “There’s a contract here that they both signed.” He furrowed his brows. “With a pen and blood.”

“Okay, I’m real over these fucking blood oaths, have I mentioned that?” Jason snapped. “God, you al Ghuls are fucking ridiculous.”

“So what’s the end game?” Dick wondered aloud.

“At this point, does it matter?” Damian asked wearily. “Neither of them are suitable parents, not that I believe either of them are actually there. And whatever they created a life for can’t be good. Nothing that an innocent child deserves, at least.”

“So, in a way…” Jason almost sang, smirking as he reached out to squeeze Damian’s knee. “We aren’t stealing anything at all. We’re rescuing.”

“You can’t turn this around and make us the good guys, Jay.” Dick scolded, even as Damian returned Jason’s smile. “It’s just an…overall bad situation.”

“Because we might be getting a baby out of a lab…” Tim sighed, leaned his head on Damian’s. “But remember who we have to give the baby to afterwards.”

Damian leaned his weight back against Tim’s, reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder. “I have a plan for that.”

Tim looked at him expectantly. But Damian said nothing more, sliding out of Tim’s embrace and turning his attention back to the plane’s mechanics.

It was decided that Damian would be the one to do the proper heavy lifting. The actual stealing bit.

The other three got to do the fun part. They got to beat up the guards.

And they had fun with it, like they always did whenever they got the chance to work together in the mask. They laughed and hollered. Kicked and punched. They even flirted, and snuck kisses between knocking the gunmen unconscious or breaking their legs.

They were surprised, though, about the true lack of guard. Sure, there were twenty or so for the small lab. But their weapons were average. And even the scientists who appeared mid-battle seemed to have no fighting skill whatsoever. Just watched in fear even as they ran for their lives out of the building.

There were no injuries on them. Damian seemed to have spared them, or they gave up without even an inkling of a fight. Which, in the end, was probably for the better.

Still, by the time they were done their task, Damian had not returned, and there’d been no cry of a baby either, or even any hint that one existed.

It was about ten minutes of waiting before Jason gave it up with a huff, calling out for their fourth as he began to explore the area. Tim and Dick followed, with Tim deciding to dismantle and destroy any machine they passed along the way.

Eventually, in a lull of silence, Dick held his hand out for both of them to stop and listen. There was music. Soft, but coming from nearby. A lullaby, it sounded like. Something sweet and twinkly.

Tim pushed the others out of the way and took lead rushing towards the sound. There was still no childish cries, or voices. Just the music.

It was a room around the corner, right in the middle of the hall. The door was open, they could see soft light spilling out of it, spinning in shapes of animals and stars against the opposite wall.

They slowly walked towards it, their hearts in their throats.

What if they were wrong? What if Talia or Lex were here? What if there’d been more guards around the child? What if Damian had been struck down again? What if this was all a ruse – there was no child?

What if…what if…?

But no. An instant relief washed over them as they reached the nursery. Because Damian was there, right inside the small room, a tiny child looking eerily similar to him in his arms, cooing as it reached up for his nose.

The music was coming from the spinning nightlight on a nearby table, and Damian was swaying to it lightly as he smiled to the baby.

They watched for a moment, and now it was Dick’s turn to lead, as he stepped into the room, and sandwiched the baby between himself and Damian.

“Boy?” Dick whispered. The baby glanced at him and squealed in greeting.

Damian nodded in confirmation. “No name. His caretakers informed me they just called him by pet names.”

“Jesus.” Jason growled. “Any signs of mom and dad?”

“No. They check in every six months. Apparently they’d visited two or so weeks ago, so weren’t scheduled for another visit for ages.” Damian glanced up at Dick, who was looking at the baby in awe. “He has…things. I couldn’t carry him and them, so was waiting for you.”

Dick smiled at him, kissing his forehead. “You got it.”

The other two entered the room as well. Jason took Dick’s place in front of Damian as Dick and Tim began to gather toys, clothing and baby supplies.

They left the small weapons they found on a corner table.

“…He looks like you.” Jason noted quietly, wrapping what he hoped was a reassuring arm around Damian’s waist. Damian was concerningly quiet. Smiling at the child, but showing no other emotion otherwise. That probably wasn’t a good thing. “…You could be his dad, even.”

“I know what you’re implying.” Damian shook his head, even as he leaned into Jason’s half-embrace. “But no, we are not raising this child ourselves.”

Jason sighed, brushing the baby’s hair off his forehead. “We can’t give him to your grandpa, Damian. We can’t. You and I both know what he wants him for. He’s no better than Talia.”

Damian nodded. “That’s why I have a plan.”

“Gonna share with the class?” Jason asked as Tim came up beside them, diaper bag in tow.

“Later.” Damian hummed, twisting out of Jason’s hold and out of the room, as Dick grabbed the last few things. Jason huffed in annoyance as the three followed him out.

The guards were all still down as they reached the outer room once more, but Damian paid them no mind anyway. He was utterly relaxed, and it had the other three on edge.

“We are…saving him, right?” Tim asked as they got outside.

“I have a plan.” Damian repeated simply.

“…Okay.” Tim sighed, coming up to Damian’s side. “Can we…give him a name, at least?”

“It’s not our place to.” Damian hummed. “He’ll get one soon enough.”

As they walked to their plane parked in a clearing nearby, they suddenly came across the huddle of scientists that had run. Damian stopped as they walked by them, looking at them with an emotionless, almost regal, glare.

“When Talia al Ghul and Lex Luthor come calling.” He announced. “You tell them who stole their newest pet project.”

A pause, to let that sink in.

“You tell them Ra’s al Ghul sent his assassins to destroy his daughter’s work and steal the child for a new vessel.” Damian explained. And then, to everyone’s surprise: “And you tell them that the assassins made a mistake, and the child died in transit.”

Everyone, from Dick, Tim and Jason to the scientists stared at each other, bewildered.

“Tell them that, or I will come back and personally haunt you the rest of your days.” Damian promised. “Understood?”

The scientists, some still crying in fear, nodded vigorously.

Apparently satisfied, Damian nodded, and continued his leisurely pace back to their jet.

The rest of the walk was silent. It wasn’t until they were back on the plane, the doors shut and Dick, now piloting, was getting them off the ground, that Dick murmured: “Damian…”

“I have a plan.” Damian sighed as he plopped into the copilot chair once more, the baby still tight in his arms, almost asleep now.

“You’ve said.” Dick snapped. “And now you need to tell us what that damn plan is.”

Damian seemed to consider for a moment, staring out the front windshield. Jason was leaning against the wall beside Dick, and Tim was leaning against him. It was clearly a three-against-one situation, despite no one actually saying so.

After the silence, Damian clicked his tongue, and hit a few buttons. A second later, a screen popped up on his side of the window. Within it, one Jonathan Kent, covered in dirt as he climbed down from a tractor.

“Howdy, D.” He grinned, readjusting his baseball hat. A dog barked in the background. “Whatcha need?”

“Are they still in Costa Rica?” Damian asked.

“Far as I know, living right outside the capital.” Jon sniffed. “That’s where my last letter came from, anyway. Though you said you’d gotten yours from Vancouver…”

“Yours months came after mine.” Damian reminded. “And on mine they said they were on vacation.”

“True.” Jon nodded. Then glanced around and frowned. “Damian, are you holding a bab-”

“We must go. Tell Conner to expect a call from Drake soon.” He reached forward and hit a button. Jon disappeared. “Set a course for Costa Rica.”

“Why?” Dick demanded.

“Because that’s where we’re taking him.”

“What?” Jason barked. “Why are we taking him to Costa Rica?”

“Ra’s is expecting him.” Tim added. “I…kind of thought your plan would be to take the baby there and then fight Ra’s for him. That way he couldn’t say you broke your deal…”

“I’m not breaking my deal.” Finally, Damian smiled. Warm, genuine and so him. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve completed my owed favor. And now Drake and I are both free of any hold my grandfather and his league have on us.”

The baby suddenly grumbled, and Damian looked down to tend to him. The others waited patiently.

“…Grandfather demanded I steal a child.” Damian said almost cheerfully. “He never said I had to bring him said child.”

Dick, Jason and Tim were all silent, mouths open in shock and realization.

Then, Jason: “You fucking little shit.”

Damian grinned wider, glancing to Dick. “That’s why I was trying to make you shut up when he told me what he wanted. I didn’t want to give him the chance to include that stipulation.”

Tim pushed from Jason’s side, slowly walking up to Damian as he talked. He stared down at him, eyes darting between the baby and the man holding him.

“We stole the baby. My favor has been completed.” Damian said proudly. He looked up at Tim, reached out to tenderly take his hand. “Now we will take the baby to where it will be safe, and then enjoy the rest of our days together.”

Tim continued to stare at him, before mindlessly blurting, “I have never been so attracted to you in my whole life.”

Damian laughed, and kissed his knuckles.

“Yeah, but Costa Rica?” Dick asked. “Who do you know in Costa Rica? Who does Jon know in Costa Rica?”

“Friends.” Damian said, tugging Tim downwards to kiss him proper.

They had almost reached their destination when Damian’s personal cell phone rang. Dick glanced first at the phone sitting on the dashboard, then the chair to his right – where Damian was fast asleep.

Jason had taken the baby – also asleep – a while ago, and frowned at the caller ID. “It’s gramps.”

Dick was going to ask if they should answer it, but Tim appeared from the back of the plane and hit the button to do so before he could.

“Ra’s.” He hummed.

“Timothy.” Ra’s returned, already on speaker. “When should I expect your troop?”

Tim smirked. “Whatever do you mean?”

Ra’s sighed dramatically. “I’m in no mood to play, Timothy. I’m a very busy man.”

“As are we.” Tim sneered.

“Where is my child?” Ra’s pushed.

“We don’t know where Talia is. Didn’t run into her.” Tim mocked. He leaned against the arm of Damian’s chair, softly glanced at him and reached out to run his fingers through his hair. Damian didn’t wake, but shifted unconsciously to lean into Tim’s presence.

“The infant.” Ra’s snapped. “The one you’ve been tasked to deliver to me.”

“Oh?” Tim asks curiously. “Last I checked, our mission was only to steal an infant. Not deliver.”

There was a pause of silence on the line. Tim kept the grin on his face. “Timothy-”

“Think about what you said, old man.” Jason called, almost too giddy. “Think about exactly what you said when you explained what you wanted him to do.”

Another moment of quiet. They could feel the Demon’s anger growing, even through the phone.

“Damian completed his promise.” Tim whispered. “He stole a child.”

“And if you come after him or Tim now, you break your oath.” Jason reminded. “Your motherfucking blood oath.”

“…You bastards.” Ra’s hissed. “You dirty, honorless street rats-”

“Sticks and stones, Ra’s.” Jason yelled over him. The baby stirred and began to cry. “And don’t think for a second that I won’t shoot you in your goddamn face if you break that oath and show up in our lives ever again. That I won’t do it every single time, no matter how many times you throw yourself in that stupid Lazarus Pit.”

Another moment of waiting. Dick forced himself to keep his eyes on the sky around them. Jason turned away to shush the baby. Tim stared at the phone, absently rubbing at Damian’s shoulder.

“…Tell my grandson congratulations.” Ra’s murmured. “He has never been able to beat me. Not ever, in his whole life. Always too weak.” A low, bitter chuckle. “But there is a first time for everything. And I supposed he saved his victory for when it mattered to him the most.”

Dick, Jason and Tim all smiled to themselves.

“I will keep my oath.” Ra’s declared, but with a tone that suggested maybe not always. That the four of them should always be on their toes anyway, just in case.

Then the line clicked, and the call was ended.

It was sunset by the time Dick landed the plane on a grassy hill in the middle of nowhere. The skies were a deep, bloody red, with tinges of a fiery pink and golden yellow.

Damian departed the jet first, the dozing baby tight in his arms. The others exited in a line behind him, looking around the area in awe. Rural, full of hills and animals and just pure, blissful beauty. A perfect getaway from the stresses of the modern world.

There was a single, small house nearby. A livestock pen and vegetable field close by. A few growing apple trees. Damian walked swiftly towards the front door, and paused when he reached it, before knocking loudly.

A few seconds, enough for the others to catch up to him, then the loud twist of an old door knob, and it was swung open.

A woman stood there. Dark skin, short black hair held back by a headband. Taller than Damian by a head or so.

Damian smiled up at her. “Maya.”

“Damian?” She asked, a mixture of confusion and honestly-not-really-surprised-at-all. At the name, there was the sound of someone else moving in the house. “What are you doing here? And why didn’t you call?”

Another woman appeared around the corner. Blonde, with freckles. A single braid draped across her shoulders.

Jon’s old friend Kathy Branden.

“To ask a big favor.” Damian glanced behind Maya, and nodded to Kathy as she approached.

“No Jon?” Kathy asked.

“Not this time.” Damian said apologetically. “Kathy, I don’t believe you’ve ever met my…boyfriends.” He gestured behind him. “Dick, Jason and Timothy.”

“Call me Tim.” Tim offered when it was his turn to shake her hand. “I think we met at Jon’s birthday party a few years ago?”

“That’s why you look familiar!” Kathy laughed.

“Beloveds, this is my old friend Maya, and her wife Kathy.” Damian offered.

“Long time, Maya.” Dick smiled. “Didn’t know you moved down here. Or got married.”

“Eloped. And we travel a lot, but really like it here.” Maya waved off. “But that’s not important. What is important is why Damian Wayne is currently at my front door holding a baby.”

“Long story short, we need you to take him. Hide him and keep him safe.” Damian cut to the chase, shifting to give the women a better look at the infant in his arms. The boy blinked sleepily. “…You two did always say you wanted children.”

“…Whose baby, though?” Maya asked, even as Kathy reached out to take the baby’s hand. The infant wrapped a tight fist around her finger. “I mean, I can’t imagine he’s yours…”

“My mother’s.” Damian said matter-of-factly. “And Lex Luthor’s.”

Kathy’s eyes flashed. Maya frowned.

“He was raised like I was – artificially. Starting to be trained to kill. And my grandfather wants to harm him.” Damian said, even as Kathy stepped forward and held her arms out. Damian instantly handed the child over. “So we stole him from the laboratory and ran away.”

Maya stared at him, even as Kathy began cooing instantly. Her dark eyes silently darted to the three men behind him, questioning.

“He doesn’t have a name.” Damian murmured. “And even if you and Kathy decide you cannot help him, I’d love for the honor of giving him one to go to you both.”

Maya let her eyes settle back on him, then her face relaxed, and she sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright, get your asses in here. Better to talk over a beer or two than on a front porch, no?”

Damian smiled as Maya gestured to the four to come inside, and stepped forward to hug her even as the others followed Kathy into the abode.

When the others were far enough away, Damian squeezed Maya as tight as he could, relishing in her return of the embrace, and whispered a warm, “Thank you.”

It was Tim who heard the phone buzzing on the nightstand. One of four, and he waited a minute to listen to the pattern, before lazily calling:

“Damian.”

He blindly slapped around for the phone until he felt his fingers wrap around it, then picked it up and flopped over, holding it in the air over the three lying next to him.

(Dick huffed when Tim’s elbow accidentally hit him in the face.)

A second later the phone was taken, the bed shifted, and Damian quietly mumbled, “This is Damian.”

Nosy, the other three, in various stages of not-quiet-sleep, listened. Jason flopped his arm across Damian’s hips, nuzzled into his waist. Tim curled around Dick like an octopus, as Dick stretched his arms above his head, dropping them onto the pillow.

There was a time, not so long ago, just like this. Where Damian was handed the phone for an early-morning call, and had to go face his grandfather for both his and Tim’s lives.

But this time, after the pause, Damian…laughed.

“Oh, is that so?”

The voice that answered was female. When Dick glanced over, he saw a smile plastered to Damian’s face.

Another laugh. “You only call him my little brother when he’s in trouble.”

Jason gave a little groan and tugged on Damian’s waist. Damian, surprisingly, fell back into the mattress, turning into Jason’s embrace.

“Well sure, but I should warn you – Todd is incredibly naked.”

The next second Damian’s phone binged, and he held it up, revealing a video call of Maya, holding the baby she and Kathy gladly accepted from him – on the condition all four of them remain in the child’s life as well.

Samuel Cobb Ducard, they named him. Little Sammy.

“Hi, Sammy.” Dick called, leaning on Jason’s shoulder. He waved, and the toddler waved enthusiastically back. “How are you?”

“He’s terrible.” Maya said, but warmly. Kathy walked by in the background. Tim leaned across the pillows to also be in frame. “Kid can barely walk and he somehow snuck a goat into his nursery. A goat, Damian!”

Damian laughed again. “I don’t see how this is my fault.”

“Same DNA, little bro.” Maya scolded. “I’m assuming he also has your love and mystical ability of obtaining animals. So I’m going to need you to tell me how to turn it off.”

Damian snorted.

“…Nah, really we didn’t call for much.” Maya laughed herself. “Sammy was just missing his ‘uncle’ Dami and wouldn’t stop screaming until we called. So,” She glanced at her son. “Happy now?”

Sammy clapped and giggled.

“You boys get back to sleep. Sorry we woke you.” A quick wink. “Please use condoms if you decide to have some morning fun instead.”

“Goodbye, Maya We’ll call later.” Damian groaned. Maya cackled as she ended the call.

“…I like her.” Tim decided, shifting back into their cocoon of a blanket.

“Hm.” Damian mumbled, dropping his phone to the floor and curling into Jason’s embrace, throwing his arm over Jason’s waist. “I like this better.”

“What?” Jason sighed.

“Freedom.” He whispered. “You. This.”

“Don’t get sappy.” Tim mumbled in a whine. “I’m too tired to be sappy.”

“I like to be reminded that you’re all safe, and we’re rid of my grandfather.” Damian continued. “Sammy’s calls always remind me of that.”

“All thanks to you and that brain.” Jason kissed his forehead as Dick silently took Damian’s hand. “You know what I like best?”

“Dick’s butt.” Damian and Tim said in unison.

“First off, no, I’m not a butt guy, you know that.” Jason scolded, squeezing Damian and slapping at Tim’s arm. “And second off, what I like best is the fact that there are no more goddamn blood oaths.”

Damian snorted, and Tim groaned at the bad joke. Dick laughed, as he wrapped his free arm around Tim’s shoulders, gave a quick kiss to Damian’s knuckles and leaned his face against Jason’s shoulder.

“Together. We’re together, safe and alive.” Dick hummed, closing his eyes, tightening his grip on Damian’s hand on the last word. “That’s what I like best.”

None of his lovers could disagree with that.

#robinpile #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Ra's al Ghul #maya ducard #kathy branden #mayakathy #idk what their ship name is

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 5 years

Text

FIC: In Midnights, In Cups of Coffee

—

Day 495

“Who are you, the Cooler King?” The question cut through the room with a soft chuckle immediately after it at the sound of the double thumps as the baseball bounced against the iron floor, then the iron wall before getting caught in her mitt. Bobby rolled his eyes as he carried the tray with their lunch over to the desk while Jo continued to throw the ball in an even thudding pace.

“Well, my dad always reminded me of McQueen so maybe just a little?”

“Just don’t try to tunnel your way out of here any time soon, girlie, I don’t want to have to redo my slabs due to tiny holes.”

Jo caught the ball as it returned to her and turned to pin the older hunter with a speculative look before she pushed herself up to her feet and dragged the small spare chair over towards the desk to sit down. Bobby had the armchair and she never made the move to suggest otherwise, no matter how angry she’d been with him at times. Pulling her own sandwich plate onto her lap, Jo raised an eyebrow again at him as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“‘Ave oo ‘een ‘alken wuh Gruh?”

“What was that Joey? Can’t speak Mouthful unfortunately.” Bobby responded with a smile, cracking open a soft drink for the both of them and pushing hers towards her. Sipping to help swallow her mouthful of turkey, cranberry and rye, Jo smiled a little in return having noticed that since she’d stopped fighting so hard, Bobby had begun taking care to provide things he knew she liked more than his usual choices.

“I said, have you been talkin’ to Grey?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“The tiny holes comment.”

The older hunter gave a non-committal shrug of his shoulder as he began on his lunch as well. From there, lunch was generally a quiet affair and as they both finished and wiped their hands on the tea towel he’d thought to bring with him, Jo found herself being pinned under a curious yet concerned look from the older hunter.

“How are you holding up, Jo? I know this has got to have been hard-”

“More than half a year in a confined space? What would give you that idea?”

“Not needing your sarcasm, girlie, just checking in with you. Your calls seem to have been getting better.”

Jo smiled a little at that, nodding her head gently. They had been getting better. Things had been feeling better lately, more normal for her. More safe and calm and like she could breath in the small space. More like she was where she was going to be for the foreseeable future. More like being back in the cave and having her routine planned out days and days in advance. More normal again.

“Yeah, it’s going okay. I’m just glad I managed to get one of these this time-” She held up her mitt, shifting to return to her spot against the edge of her bed and tossing the baseball at the exact same spot she had before.

“This time?”

“Oh you know, I lost my last one. Some werewolf broke in and took it - I guess it wasn’t so fun for it down here without something to do.”

“What... what werewolf?” There was a strain to his voice that Jo wasn’t familiar with, and flicking a glance over at him as she threw the ball - hands moving to throw and then catch blindly on reflex as the ball’s arch followed the same trajectory as the last - to see he was rubbing a hand over his beard and staring at her with that same concerned look to his face. She didn’t quite get the need, it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to handle herself down here. She just had to remember to mark the day out on the wall at some point. Just to keep track.

“Oh don’t worry Bobby, it’s long dead. They don’t take shit from me without gettin’ dead a second time, you know.”

“Right. Jo, girl, where do you think it went?”

“Why it just died, Bobby. It’s what we all do in Purgatory after all.”

—

Day 1-3

All of Dean’s words had not prepared her for what it felt like to feel someone else slide into your very self. And unlike him and her original plan, Jo had twice the sensation. She found herself glad that she couldn’t hear either of them and that standing in front of the portal that opened upon her approach, that she had not been misled at all.

The travel through the portal was rough, and it felt at a few points like her arms were drawn back towards Purgatory while the magic tried to expel the rest of her - almost trying to tear and shear her apart with the drawing forces of both Purgatory and Earth battling over where she belonged. Jo was not sure if sound travelled in the space, but she knew her mouth was open and her lungs were screaming raw into the passage between before there was a twinge and she found herself plummeting face first into the hot, sticky asphalt below her.

From there, even if it was with two extremely painful, throbbing masses in her arms, it was an easy enough process to travel back to where the second of the shadow’s had met his grizzly end. Slicing through her right arm and bleeding onto the replaced carpet where his stolen body had oozed out and the shadow’s own mass had tried desperately to claw it’s way out before shrivelling upon the floor in the few places he’d managed to pull a tendril free; Jo had almost groaned in relief as the pressure slipped out of her arm. It felt like her arm was lighter than it had even been.

“You… you here?” Jo asked aloud quietly, eyes dancing about the room trying to locate the shape of the monster to confirm whether or not the spell had managed to work even without a bod to replace like she had been told was the process with Dean and his vampiric friend.

There was a long, drawn out silence in the hotel room before she heard the response, a soft whisper of an answer, “Yes sweetie. You really will strive with things impossible won’t you?”

“What can I say?” Jo shrugged as she continued to look around the space trying to locate him but frowning when she realised that he would be staying out of sight for whatever reason now. “I truly love achieving the impossible.”

“You better go release the runt, sweetie, it’s very cramped in your tiny, tiny arms.” If Jo didn’t know better, she would think he was being nice and not just flirting; but rolling her eyes she nodded to herself at his words. She did so desperately want to get Grey back.

“I’ll catch you around, aye?”

“Only if your luck holds out, sweetie.”

After that, it wasn’t hard to drive herself to the forest that had once housed the two cannibalistic Wendigos and had been where she’d dug a full sized grave behind constant tears. It was hard however to locate the exact spot that the other had fallen - the burial site of the nasty man he had been riding about in unnecessary but the exact place he had succumbed.

Finally, Jo had found in the dirt the discarded lighter she had used to face down the second wendigo, and it was a few moves of reflection to have her standing at the right spot before slicing her left arm through. Nothing appeared to happen and the pressure was still there under her skin. Frowning, she moved a foot over and repeated the step again, and then again, and again.

By the time she finally sliced a mark through her forearm and felt that painful pressure suddenly disappear, her arm looked truly horrific and blood was dripping off and down over her whole hand - tacky and sticky with the dried blood, clinging to each bend of skin and coating her silver ring with the dark red colour. However, the very light scratches needed would heal quickly and should not impact on the clarity of her white ink tattoo once they healed up.

“What the fuck have you done to yourself?!” The pitch was so loud in the quiet forest, drowning out the soft bird song that had surrounded her with the panic and concern etching through his voice as Grey formed to her side. “Jo, how could you mess up so badly? Your arm looks dreadful! You need to take care of that immediately, do you have a med kit or do you need me to get it for you or-”

“Grey, hun, focus. Tis but a scratch, I’ll be fine!”

“Don’t you go quoting Monty Python at me like that will get you excused.”

“It usually would!” Jo laughed in response to his energetic worry, eyes soft and the sound of her laughter spreading out like a warming blanket through the forest. It was the first true, real and honest laugh since she’d last been standing there, and she felt her hands twitch with the desire for him to be in a solid form again right there and now.

But that would come soon enough, for now, she had a trek back down to the car, and he had an equally long trek to find a form he was comfortable with again. Turning on her heels, Jo smiled, a light pink in her cheeks, as she headed back down the mountain and could see the same grey shadow shape take his place at her side.

—

Day 365

“...be still my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me..” The last word was practically whispered through the line and Jo turned her back to the lounge room turned study where she could see the curious, concerned or just outrightly frustrated looks on the faces of the three other hunters glancing towards her.

She’d demanded the chance to call that day, being a year since she’d flashed through that scary and disturbing passage that brought her back to the world from the faded, washed out world of never-sunlight. Bobby had looked hard and long at her before agreeing to allow it - but only from the bank of phones in the kitchen where he and the two Winchesters who were over for some case help could keep an eye on her.

And an ear originally, as Dean had lent up against the door frame beside her with a cocked brow while she dialed the number half expecting it to be disconnected at this point or the other end not to pick up to the unknown number.

She had heard the voice croaky and tired sounding, exhausted in a way Jo had not remembered ever hearing him since the day so very very long ago as she’d disarmed the bomb under his seat. The sound and memory had her sliding down the wall and tucked in upon herself, old phone cradled tightly against her cheek as she’d spoken the first words to him in over one hundred days.

From there, Jo had heard it immediately. The brightening, the lifting of spirits and the desperation streaming through his every word just as sharply as she could hear it in her own. Dean had snorted harshly at the first words from her being “I love you”, and the hunter had moved off to join the other curiously ‘not watching’ pair within minutes.

The conversation had flowed, and flowed, and mostly been Jo trying not to cry and Grey trying not to ask her to see him. Half finished words, unsaid sentences hanging in silence, and quiet hiccups gulping down air like a drowning man. When she’d heard the sound of a bark in the background, she’d lost it - the sheer distance between her and her little family cutting deep - and when she’d been able to focus again on what was being said, she almost cried again hearing the words being gently sung through the phone to her. He’d always said he would hear it and think of her when they weren’t together.

“Sorry, sorry hun. I..”

“Jo, I know. You don’t need to apologise to me ever.”

“I do though, for so so much.”

There was a groan on the other end of the line, and she found herself biting down on her lip rather than add any more. They went round and round in circles in that loop, and Jo just wished that she could end the circle how she usually would with her lips on his muffling down any more objections or corrections from him. Pressing her own fingers to her lips instead, Jo added quietly, “Other than how much this sucks, how are you doing? How’s Nana?”

“Things are things. I know that... that Nana misses you so very dearly, Jo. Misses you more than anything.”

“Does she now?” She felt the corners of her lips twitching upwards at the tone running through the other’s words, aware that this could sound innocent enough to anyone else if they heard but the underlying meaning clear. “Well, I miss her too. I miss just spending time with her.”

“I’m sure she misses you more, Jo. She...” There was a pause as Grey seemed to think over the words to say, and Jo felt a lump forming in her throat in fear of what he was going to say next. That she may have to deny something yet again, and on the first time they’d been able to speak to one another since she was dragged and vanished from the house. “She misses you so much, Jo. I’m sure she wants to see you, just for a minute, just for one little minute-”

“You know-”

“I don’t care, Jo. I still don’t care. This is fucking torture being away from you-”

“I know-”

“No! No you don’t know!!” The shout down the line surprised her, and jumping slightly in her seat, she could see the three different heads in the other room jerk about to look at her as she moved the phone to her other ear and twisted away from them. This was what she didn’t want to have happen, but clutching the handset in her hands, Jo swallowed thickly as Grey continued, “This is utter torture, Jo, and you don’t have to keep doing this. Please just... just come home, come home to me. Why can’t you just come home? I don’t...I don’t care what you do, just please come back to me.”

“I..” She struggled over the words for a moment, before she finally reacted. Pushing herself to her feet and squeezing her eyes shut, Jo quickly continued, “I love you, hun. I’ll be home as soon as I can” before she slammed the handset into place and stalked downstairs. She couldn’t handle the looks she’s sure she had left in the other room, she couldn’t handle the begging tone, she couldn’t handle this much longer but she’d have to. If she lasted 82 years, she can last however long she has to to have him back again.

—

Day 90

“Shada, hey! Long time no see.” Jo greeted the other girl brightly as she opened the door at the knock, smile firmly in place as she waved her in. “Grey’s in the lounge and I’ve heard that Gray’s planning to stop by and catch you.”

“Really? Both brothers here at once without bloodshed?” Shada asked incredulously, smiling widely in back as she moved into the house while Jo shut the door. “That’s a miracle! How did you manage it?”

“I think it’s got somethin’ with death re-establishing a previously unknown maturity level or maybe just my beggin’ them not to kill one another.”

“Well then, you’ve got some kind of super power, cupcake, cause I’ve never managed that at all.”

Jo laughed a little at that, following the other into the lounge a few steps behind as she watched brother and sister both embrace quickly in a tight hug. Shada began speaking in some language that Jo couldn’t quite follow, and Grey appeared to match in kind without a second thought. Smiling at the clear affection and happiness in the other woman’s looks at seeing her brother back alive and well, the blonde turned about and moved about collecting a tray of drinks for the three of them before adding a spare beer for the one shadow that had yet to show up.

Shada appeared to stare at her brother more and more as the afternoon dragged on while they all talked. It was like she was trying to dig under his surface or something, but Jo shrugged it off as she tucked in on Grey’s lap on the small armchair together.

It wasn’t until the other shadow appeared, suddenly appearing by the front window and giving his sister a sharp nod of greeting compared to the ruffle of Jo’s hair as she’d approached with the cold beer for him that all hell broke loose.

Shada’s voice had reached an earsplitting level as she jerked straight from her chair, one hand pointed towards Jo and the dark lines of her shadow snagging upon Jo’s own before flinging her up against the closest wall. “What the fuck did you do, you foolish human??!”

The next second, both other shadows were on their feet and snarling - one’s shadow stretching out to drag and push back at his sister’s harshly using their own tricks and powers to affect the younger shadow. The other had thrown himself physically at her, silver flash of his razor out and pressed against the girl’s neck in threat and intention as he snarled down in her face; the size of his new frame providing intimidation on top of the weapon and the other shadow’s own shifts.

“You bloody idiots, let go of me and open your fucking eyes!” Shada shrieked the words out, twisting and pushing back against Gray’s tight and sharp grip as she dropped the control over Jo’s shadow, eyes fixed on the dark brown ones staring down at her. “Brother, can’t you see what she’s done to you?!”

“What the fuck are you on about, sister?” The words were hissed between the two of them, and Jo found herself trying to listen in over the concerned and worried check up she was getting as she’d dropped from the force against the wall and into Grey’s waiting arms.

“You’re both Stained!”

A pin drop could have been heard in the room as if it were a gunshot by how silent it fell at that announcement. Gray dropped his harsh grip upon his little sister, stepping back several steps and jerking his head about to look between the pleading look on Shada’s face and the distraught and slowly comprehending look on Jo’s own face as the woman’s words sank in. She felt Grey’s own grip tighten around her arms, and almost pull her into him as he stared across at his brother hatefully - as if somehow he was responsible for this happening to the both of them and it wasn’t Jo’s idea and choice that drew this upon them.

“What…”

“How the fuck do you figure that, sister?”

With a flip of her hair, Shada stepped off of the wall and pinned Jo with the most fearful look she had ever seen from the girl shadow. “How about we ask your precious cupcake how it happened, hmm? How exactly you escaped Purgatory the lot of you?”

“I… there’s a spell and I carried them in my arms out.” Jo stumbled over the words as all three faces turned to look at her, and she found herself blinking in confusion as to how she could have done anything like tearing into their Vice doing such an action. The only time she had heard of such a thing happening had been when Grey was practically torn apart supposedly, and she certainly had not hurt either of them at the time. “I’m not sure how it works, Dean told me about it.”

“You… You carried them in your fucking arms? You realise that was in your soul!” Shada hissed the words out as she stalked forwards towards Jo, only to be stopped by Gray’s hands reaching out to stop her with a sharp pull. Slashing at his grip with her forearm, the girl shadow snarled. “You have completely covered them with your being, you foolish, stupid human! You’ve marked them both, more thoroughly than that horrible demon ever did! This is so wrong!!”

“Don’t talk about Jo like that, Shada.” The way he snarled at his sister, so unusual for Grey to do so, made Jo shudder as she looked between the determined yet hard look on both brother’s faces, she realised how accurate the lone woman shadow’s words were.

Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

—

Day 33

“Hey, have you ever seen this before?” Jo asked, a wide smile on her face that she knew had been there all morning and was showing no signs of dropping away. If she’d been more poetic, Jo’d have possibly said that she was glowing when she’d caught her reflection a few times throughout the day thus far.

There was a rise of an eyebrow in response at her as he stepped over the threshold and followed after her along to the lounge room, looking more at ease in the space than she had ever expected he would. “Seen what?” Gray asked as he tilted her head at the DVD in her hand curiously.

“American Psycho? It’s a movie.”

“Nah, don’t spend much time watching trashy girly crap.”

“That’s American Sweethearts, you idiot.”

“Comme ci comme ça?”

Jo laughed at that, shaking her head as she waved the case at him. “Definitely not! I’m almost positive you’d like this.” She turned her back to him, moving to stick the DVD into the player with a flourish and a wave of her hand at him to make himself comfortable. “I mean, your brother hates this movie, so I hardly ever get to see it.”

“A runt-unfriendly movie?” Gray asked sharply, and when Jo shot a glare over her shoulder at him, he held up his hands in surrender with a shake of his head. “Fine, fine. I’ll take your word for it and make no other comments.”

“Good, cause I look forward to tellin’ you I told you so.” She smiled a little as she got the system set up and made her way across to the couch beside where the shadow had already made himself comfortable. They’d only hung out like this a few times in the last week or so, usually on opposite ends of the couch and typically some kind of action flick when Grey was out feeding, with a bowl of popcorn next to Jo’s hip giving plenty of a boundary between them. Gray had already taken his jacket off and draped it over the back of the spare seat, and had one foot resting on top of the coffee table, stretched out languidly and relaxed in a way he never seemed to be when he’d first show up to visit. “If you think this movie sucks, then I’m going to question your taste forever.”

“Don’t you already?” He quipped back, smirking slightly as Jo bustled about and disappeared to grab a drink for each of them. When she returned the DVD’s main screen was on and flashing ready to play. Pressing the start button, Jo found herself stepping over his stretched out leg cautiously before sinking down on the couch beside him in the centre rather than the far end as the opening credits started without thinking about it. There was a slight cough from beside her as she passed him his own beer, before Gray asked inquiringly, “So, where is he today?”

“Out feeding.”

“Didn’t he do that like… two days ago?”

“Yeah-”

“That’s a pretty quick turn around, isn’t it? Thought he usually took more than two days to need more from that crappy diet of his.”

Jo felt her cheeks flushing red as the other kept asking questions before shaking her head and hiding a wicked smile behind her hair. “Well, usually, yes.”

“So? What’s happened that used up all that second-rate monster juice?” Gray quipped back, one arm spreading along the back of the couch behind her shoulders without a care as he used the other arm on the arm rest to take the odd sip of his beer. He quirked a brow at her, tugging on a piece of her hair behind her neck when she didn’t reply. “Come on, sweetie, what’s sent him off so quick?”

“Well, it was my birthday yesterday, so uh things were a little more exhaustive than usual.” She knew she was blushing uncontrollably as she looked out the corner of her eye at him, a small smirk growing when she could see a disgusted look followed by something she couldn’t quite place flash across his face before she got a laugh for her comments.

“That’d do it then. Alright, movie time now, right sweetie?”

Nodding, Jo grinned to herself and settled in comfortably to watch one of her favourite movies without the usual groans of discomfort and distaste she had gotten the one time she’d asked the other shadow to watch with her. As the men compared their business cars, she found herself sinking to the side, pressed up against her enemy-turned-friend’s side and her head resting in the crook of his shoulder and chest without a thought.

By the time the ATM was begging for a cat, they’d both finished their beers and Jo had already heard the approving rumble in the other’s chest at several points throughout the film. As the woman screamed about witnessing the psychopathic Bateman pressing a cat towards the card slot, there was a disgusted noise from the doorway.

“Fuck sake, really? This movie again, Jo?”

“I like watchin’ it when you’re not around to complain.” The blonde quipped back, shifting upright from her previous position causing the arm wrapped around her shoulder and down her arm to drop down behind her as she turned to smile up at the new arrival. “It’ll be over in like… twenty minutes?”

“Fine, I can handle twenty minutes of this-”

“Can you two shut up, I’m trying to watch this.” Gray hissed quietly, eyes focused upon the screen as the woman started running through the halls screaming. Jo rolled her own eyes, but frowned slightly to herself noticing the way he pulled his arm from behind her back over to his lap and his other hand gripped the armrest tightly. “If you’re watching, sit down and watch quietly.”

Jo raised an eyebrow but shifted as the other shadow moved about to sit as far away as possible from the other on the other end of the couch without another word, but a slight glare to his face as he looked across at her.

Shrugging to herself, the blonde shifted her own weight to lean to the other side and resting her head in Grey’s lap without another thought. Shifting her hips a little, Jo tucked her feet in underneath the other’s lap on the other end of the couch and settled in with a smile to enjoy the end of the movie - glad not to have to defuse any fighting for once.

—

Day 172

She kicked the car door shut with the back of her heel, bag held tightly between her hands as she made her way over to the motel’s reception. Getting a room was easy, the flickering VACANCY sign out the front seeming like it was the type of place it never flashed NO before it. Jo shrugged the bag strap over her shoulder as she fumbled her key into the door and made her way inside, tossing her pack on the solo bed and shutting the door behind her quietly.

From there, it took no time at all to be back in the swing of setting up her room and getting prepared for the leg work of a hunt. Her printed pages were spread out on the wall methodically if a little erratically to anyone else’s eye but hers. Files were spread across the bed cover alongside the odd books she’d brought with her, and her knives and two main guns were set out on the rickety table top alongside her laptop. Her phone was plugged in and charging after the thirteen hour trip from Duluth to get into this little town in the middle of nowhere. She was sure she’d be getting a call from Harry shortly about Nana if no one else.

Flopping down on the bed with a bounce as she grabbed one of the books and flicking through the pages held above her head, Jo jerked up with a strangled scream at the voice that cut through the quiet room. “What are you doing out from behind your iron castle, sweetie?”

“Fuck! You tryin’ to give me a heart attack!?!” Jo shrieked, dropping her book beside her as she shifted to sit upright, staring across at the doorway where the voice had come from. It did not surprise her one bit he was the first one to find her - he’d always been better at locating her than most, and it had barely been any time for him from the times he was popping up and stopping her from splattering some crappy motel room like this one’s walls with blood and brain matter.

Gray pushed away from the door but drew short of getting within five feet of her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something different to the last times she’d seen him, but given it had been over two months, that was to be expected. He was getting back to normal. Jo mentally kicked herself for the slight pang the idea that they would be going back to normal shot through her.

“You shouldn’t be out at the moment, sweetie. There’s monsters out here looking for you, did you know?”

“Here I thought I was the one out hunting monsters.”

“You’re not wrong there, but you’d better watch your back.” His voice was quieter than usual, smooth as silk and making her remember that dangerous pulse from the last time they’d spoke. The heavy look he’d shot her before she’d ignored him in favor of his brother as she’d closed the door on the relaxed relationship they had been developing. Gray seemed to consider stepping closer before taking a short step back instead, a grimace on his face as he looked towards her. “Not all of us want this situation to get fixed. You’re lucky, sweetie, that I appreciate the situation and want to rectify the issue.”

“Of course you do. Me too, by the way.”

“Unfortunately for you, you’re the only one when it comes to the runt though.” Gray’s eyes ran around the room and Jo wasn’t surprised to see him turn away from her and head towards her make-shift pin board, flicking at the papers. She’d noticed his habit of reviewing her work in past - as if the whole concept fascinated and appalled him - and didn’t fight the smile that seeing him brushing over her carefully developed work got. When he turned back to her, Jo was surprised however to see the flash of that previously inconceivable look upon his face, her own smile dropping slightly until his had passed. There was a beat before he added almost too gently, as if teasing at trouble with it, “You better watch your back before he shows up wanting you on yours. I at least want to get better, he just wants you.”

“I..”

“I’ll catch you around, sweetie.”

Jo felt herself smiling at that, and didn’t miss that look coming to his face again as she replied in kind - “Only if your luck holds out.” - before he smoked away.

She considered laying iron across the door and the window of the motel room at that point, but given how often she was in and out over the next two days, it had slipped her mind and the hunt itself had taken centre stage for her thoughts and concerns. It was a skinwalker, that much was obvious, but she was having a bitch of a time working out exactly where it was hiding and what form it was taking at this point.

Tomorrow would be the day she caught it, she told herself as she locked the door and changed into her pyjamas - one of the old hoodies that had been tucked away in the drawers at home from before that still smelt so clearly of home - before shutting out the lights and sliding into bed. Tomorrow would be the day.

When she woke it was to heavy breath on the back of her neck and an arm around her waist that made her freeze. The door had been locked, nobody should have been in here with her.

“Shhh, it’s just me.” Those words were enough to settle her nerves immediately, the soft, deep tone washing over her like a calming balm. His arm tightened slightly around her as she shifted to press back against him sleepily. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, hun.” Jo murmured back tiredly, one hand covering his and entwining their fingers as she settled into his arms as if they’d never been apart. She felt herself drifting off quicker than she had in months, the feeling of love and home washing over her as she turned in his arms and the press of his lips to her forehead was the last thing she remembered that night.

—

Day 261

Rolling over in her bed, she stretched out languidly like she was a cat in a sunlight stream, toes curling and hands pressing harshly against the headboard. Beside her she heard a chuckle and turned to raise an eyebrow across at him. “Oh fuck you, that wasn’t supposed to happen and you know it.”

“Fuck you, huh? Don’t mind if I do again, pretty one.” Grey whispered the words into the skin of her neck, kissing along her neck paying special attention to the ancient scars on the one side, as he shifted to rest above her as she rolled up towards him in response. Her hands traced over his chest, scratching here and there before her nails dug into his shoulder blades like a fan as he thrust inside her for the third time since the night before. She shuddered and rocked her hips up to his as he murmured into her ear, “I’ve missed you, so so much.”

“We shouldn’t be-” Jo bit off the words with a moan, wrapping her arms around him again as the feelings of being together again washed over her. It had been impulsive the night before when she’d had a few too many drinks and had spotted the brand new sketchpad and pencil set she had bought earlier in the year for that very day. It had been leather bound and gorgeous, and she’d had it hidden in the bookshelf of her study for months. Before all of this came to light. The choice to rip up the iron on the front door had been foolish, but as soon as she’d messaged him, he’d been there on the door step and the night had been a blur of touches, kisses and moans from there. Much as the morning was shaping up to be as the reasons this wasn’t right and that they shouldn’t and why they weren’t supposed to disappeared in his hot lips and hands.

Wrapped up together afterwards, Jo could feel the warmth of the sun beating in through the gaps in the window on them as if burning them both for their misdeeds before it had risen fully. Condemning their actions and branding them for still being curled around one another now that the 14th had come.

“Hun.. we can’t keep doin’ this.” She whispered the words as if she said them quietly enough they could pretend a little longer that they weren’t true and could stay like this. He let out a quiet laugh, a harsh painful sound when she looked up to catch his eyes, that desperate look still deep within them - desperate for them to stay like this, for things to be how they were, to be together. “You’re still-”

“I’m still yours. I know.” His nose brushed up against hers gently, bringing a sigh from the both of them before he pressed his lips to hers so gently Jo felt like crying. Grey stared into her eyes gently as his fingers traced over the skin of her shoulders. “I’ve always been yours though, Jo, and I always will be. So why does it matter?”

“It matters, it matters so much. I can’t… we can’t be like this.”

“You mean that you can’t be like him, right?” Jo sucked in her breath at the words, eyes going wide before his lips covered hers and practically pulled the words from her mouth. “Rest assured, pretty one, you’d never ever be like he was. We could be like this for the rest of eternity and it’d make no lick of difference if I was marked as yours or just yours in words alone.”

“Grey…”

“Oh you two have got to be kidding me right now.” The third voice shocked the pair of them, not springing apart but both sticking their mussed heads up from below the covers to see the furious looking other shadow at the end of the bed with the yapping dog bounding about her feet and then jumping atop the bed itself. “What part of your fucking Stained did not resonate with you, brother?”

“Shada, fuck off would you.” Grey remarked in response, shifting to sit up more but tugging the covers to keep Jo covered and concealed from the other woman’s angry glances. He growled a little in response as the other shadow made to tug the quilts away herself, hands holding tight. “This has nothing to do with you any more. You are the one that’s forcing us apart, and I’m sick of it. I want Jo, I want to be with Jo, and I am going to be with Jo. So just fuck off if you can’t agree to what makes me happy.”

“Brother…” Shada’s voice was so deeply tired and sad as she stared down at her brother, and Jo could see the worry and concern etched across the other’s beautiful face as if she had aged an eon in the last few months since this had come to light. The other woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her hair before adding, “Fine, if that’s what you want, that is fine. But I’ll talk to the one of you who is a rational adult instead then. Jo-”

“Don’t talk to her.”

“Jo, you need to take responsibility for what you’ve done! Get dressed, we’re going.”

“Wait, what?” Jo jerked herself up, clutching the covers against her chest as she stared at the other woman’s remarks in confusion. She felt Grey’s hand reached for her back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb against the base of her spine. It was so warm and comfortable and made her feel so much better. Shaking that thought from her head, she shifted slightly to the side, looking between the two siblings in confusion. “What do you mean we’re goin’?”

Shada tutted at her, and Jo could hear the sound of her foot tapping from behind the end of the bed. The dark haired girl tossed her hair back in frustration and flapped a hand towards the pair still in the bed, where Grey had sank to lean back against the bedhead with a few pillows behind him and as Jo caught her eye she felt that tingle of something along her spine, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. She found herself licking her lips slightly before a cough from the other woman dragged her attention away again. “See that right there, cupcake, is why we need to go. You? Are going to your Uncle’s house to stay in that big scary room of his - willingly or not. Brother can keep the house under control until he is better since he seems so comfortable where he is.”

“You aren’t taking her against her will, Shada.” The other shadow growled deeply, that deep voice rougher and darker than his other had ever gotten as he lent forward a little, a threat clear in his movements as Jo shifted off of the bed with the sheet tugged out from the end to hold against herself. “Jo is mine and always has been, and you will not take her.”

There was a long pause as the two shadows stared one another down from each position, the girl not moving at all and her face refusing to shift from the cocky snarl she’d had in place the whole time, while he had started shifting to get off of the bed, without any care to his current state of undress compared to keeping the other from Jo.

Next second, Shada was gone from the end of the bed, and Jo let out a squeak at the feeling of a hand on her elbow and just heard the parting words before the bedroom and Grey’s distraught yet furious face disappeared; “You want to bet, brother?”

Between blinks they went from the bedroom to the dank basement in her friend’s house, and Jo clutched the sheet about her, tugging for it to cover her back as well as front as she saw the older hunter lurching to his feet from a seat before the large iron door.

“What the hell-”

“I had no time for her to get dressed. I’ll get some clothes for her once she’s in.” Shada responded to the gruff sounding question as she poked and prodded Jo forward while the hunter shrugged in understanding and span the locking mechanism open. Jo struggled to stop being pushed in before the shadow disappeared from before her and popped up behind her with an unexpected shove - sending her propelling and tripping forward and into the panic room.

Behind her was the sound of the door slamming shut as she got her balance under her feet, spinning around to see the two bars move to close with a hard clink. Rushing to the door and bashing her fist, holding tight to the sheet with her other, Jo found herself screaming to no response.

—

Day 4

Jo had fallen asleep waiting up for him.

She had gotten home just after midnight, a minor detour on the way back to pick up their baby from Bobby’s had delayed her a little such that she half expected him to already be back and waiting for her - but instead she’d gotten back to a house just as empty as it had been after that fateful hunt so, so many days ago by her standards. If it weren’t for the bandages around her forearms and the clumps of Purgatory dirt still clinging to her hair that she had yet to shower away, Jo would almost think it was a dream.

She’d fallen asleep sitting on the couch waiting for him, and scratching at her dirty, sticky and mucky skin; Jo finally decided it was time to engage in the one feature she had truly missed - indoor plumbing and hot water.

Her teeth had taken forever to clean and get the horrible taste of years of grime off of them. Her hair had been a matted mess of tangles, twigs, mud and knots that took almost an hour of tugging through with a hair brush, the hot water running along it, and slathers of conditioner to detangle and gleam again. Her finger nails were a lost cause and were clipped off low and scrubbed to red before the dirt was all gone.

She had just finished balancing precariously against the cold tile and keeping as much of her as possible under the hot water flow to complete shaving her legs for the first time in 83 years when she heard a voice outside of the shower screen. The voice was rough around the edges, and moved more fluidly between deep, rough and raw pitches and up to higher, cracked notes on the emphasis. “So, this is where you got to…”

Jo let out a scream, slicing a thin cut down her leg as she dropped the razor and span about in the shower space, jerking the shower screen open to get a visual on whoever was in her home now. Blinking the still pouring water out of her eyes, she shank back against the tile behind her.

“Jo! Oh no, no, I’m so sorry! I thought you heard me coming in, I called out for you - I’m so so sorry.” The stranger reacted immediately, hands held out in a calming motion and confusingly bright eyes (were they blue, were they grey, were they green or hazel or what) staring at her. Jo felt the cold jolt of the tile behind her forcing her back forward under the hot water stream as she stared in confusion and slight fear at the other. Blinking her eyes as she realised what he was saying, the words sinking in for her as the water poured down over her head and washed out her ears, the blonde let out a shaky breath that matched the shaking hands of the other man. “Did you… you didn’t hurt yourself did you? You cut yourself! I’m so sorry for surprising you, it’s me.”

“Grey?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I forgot that.. I thought you heard me.” The dark haired man’s face shifted through emotions so quickly and smoothly that Jo found herself blinking under the stream of hot water and seeing a different look every second. Shifting a little forward, she wiped at her eyes and blinked as she looked over the other in much the same fashion she could tell he was doing her own battered, bruised and slightly emaciated form from so much time fighting for survival and the natural tan of her skin faded to a pale from so much time without any real sunlight. For her part, Jo found herself biting her lip as she took in the jaw line behind the slight stubble, the mussed hair that was just begging for her fingers and those damn eyes all within an extremely handsome face. He might not have looked the same as before, but she knew if she’d looked into bright blue eyes again it would just send her back to that moment every time; and leaning slightly closer out of the stream of water, Jo found herself very much appreciating the choice this time. “I couldn’t believe I was home, I’m just so happy to be back I didn’t think.”

She lifted a finger to his lips, shaking her head and tilting to one side as Jo looked over the worn and tired clothes he had on, clearly what whoever it had been’s choices rather than his own from the sight of plaid sticking out under the green jacket. “Grey, it’s fine, I just didn’t hear you. I’m so glad you’re home too.”

There was a brief second that she worried it might not have actually been her man in there, in whoever it was that seemingly had had a rough life matching the struggles her own clothes in a pile by his feet had seen; right up until the groan she heard at her touch and the dark hunger that had filled his eyes as Jo noticed him running a longing look over her and he opened his mouth to speak behind his finger, “I’m so glad to be home with you, pretty one.”

A sharp tug had him in the flow of water with her, hands frantic between the two of them to shed the various layers as quickly as possible and relearn each and every spot to one another after so long.

—

Day 51

The moment she’d pulled the car into the driveway and saw the shift of the front window’s curtain, Jo had felt the tears starting up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the way the shadow beside her flinched - his joining her on the drive purely “to make sure you don’t drive yourself into a tree”, or so he claimed - and the next minute the seat was empty and he’d disappeared leaving her to this alone. It figured.

She could see the front door opening and the first of her tears started down her cheek as she got out of the car and found herself flinging herself into his waiting arms with a sob.

“Wha… Jo, Jo, what happened? Are you okay?” Grey’s voice was that same rough tone she had gotten used to, the lows it could achieve when he was serious so surprising yet somehow soothing to her ear at the same time. There was a pause as she could feel his hands pause in their strokes over her hair and a shift in the way he was holding her as he seemed to bury his nose into her crown for a moment. The next he spoke there was ice in his tone, but he still didn’t release the comforting hold around her, “Jo. What did you do?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

There was a long tense moment as she tried to cling onto the feel of her face tucked against the warmth of his chest and his arms around her the way she fully expected to never happen again. She’d fucked up and fucked up so badly after all. Clinging onto it for a last second, Jo pulled back a little bit so she could look up at him and tried to keep her lip from trembling as her wet eyes met his cold ones.

“It wasn’t… I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.”

“I’ve heard that before, Jo.”

“And I mean it, Grey. You can look, you can look if you want, look and see I didn’t mean it to happen. I didn’t mean to do it - I was goin’ for a hug and the cheek and then one thing led to another and-”

His finger was over her lips, pressed tightly and silencing her immediately as she felt another round of tears start to silently fall. It hurt so much to think what she had done to him, to them, with just one little mistake. There was no taking it back, and as she stared up into his clouded eyes, she tried to prepare herself for the words - for him to say they were done, it was over, she disgusted him and how dare she ruin this for them forever; that he couldn’t stand to look at her, and that she was all of the things that had run through her mind on the tense drive home. That she was a slut, spreading her legs for anyone and how dare she do that when he was so so good to her. Jo tried not to move her lips under his finger but struggled to keep from letting it quiver in anticipation.

“Jo, why did you do that?” His voice was sharp in some ways, cracking into that higher pitch to the deep, gruff tone she was used to now, that always made it clear he was struggling to contain himself from doing something more. What she didn’t expect was for his hand to shift, smoothing to hold her cheek and wipe the tear marks from her skin with the gentleness he had every other time she had cried before him. “Why him of all people?”

“I… He… I’m…” Jo stammered over the words, eyes watering again but she blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. It was too cruel, it was too mean and too real if she kept crying over it; crying over what she knew was going to be the loss of the most pivotal and important thing in her world. What she’d waited decades for she’d ruined in one mistake. Shaking her head and dislodging his hand, Jo swallowed thickly before whispering quietly. “He saved me from myself.. He’s why we’re here right now.. I just feel different around..” She couldn’t quite finish her thoughts, the feelings that had been percolating for seemingly so long since that night in the alley way and put on ice for years as she hid away before being dragged into the light over the last few two months jarred and cut away at her for their very existence. Denial was so much easier.

“I see now.” Grey’s voice was so soft she almost thought she’d misheard him as he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks, and Jo felt her eyes widen at the movement and the acceptance she could see radiating out of his expression.

“What..”

“We can get past this.” He murmured, pulling her back in against him but careful to avoid touching or moving the hair that covered the dark bruise on her neck, drawing her back into the house with an unexpected kiss to her forehead. Her eyes were blown wide in shock and confusion as he guided her about, each gesture feeling so like normal but completely unnatural for what she’d just done. “I love you, Jo. And loving you comes with complications sometimes.”

“This isn’t right.” She mumbled the words to herself as he moved them towards the couch, feather light touches from him, as she sank into the fabric with a shake of her head. Something was not right but she had no idea what.

—

Day 11

There was a knocking on the front door - a strange noise Jo still hadn’t quite adjusted to remembering - as they’d sat down for breakfast that morning. She had actually jumped at the sound, hand clutched tightly around the small butter knife ready to strike out as she jerked her head around looking for the source until the calming hand slid over hers.

“It’s just the front door, Jo.” Grey said softly, his thumb rubbing against her knuckles as she slowly released the tight grip. “I’ll go see who it is, okay?”

“Okay..” Jo let out a shaky breath as she set the knife back down and waited until he’d stood up and moved to the door to pick up her toast, chewing one bite of her Nutella covered piece before the sounds of a loud shout had her jerking from her seat.

Running out the kitchen towards the front door, she was surprised to see Grey standing dead set in the middle of the doorway and blocking entry to the stranger on the doorstep.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Despite the change of body, one Jo had definitely appreciated and enjoyed over the last week, the tone was still so clearly the same as Grey snarled at whoever was outside. He was glaring up the very slight height difference at the tall, muscular man waiting outside. “How did you think showing up here was okay?”

“Oh fuck off, runt, I’m not here to cause trouble.” It took a moment for the words to sink in and recognise who the stranger must be, the dark, silky voice cutting jarringly with the way she was used to hearing the derogatory name sounding like. Jo moved along the hallway, toast still in hand and eyes darting between the sneer on the newcomer’s face and the way Grey’s shoulders were tight and firmly in place - a hand to either side of the door way blocking the entrance completely. “I just wanted to talk to sweetie.”

“Don’t call her that in front of me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Jesus Christ, the both of you.” Stepping closer and chewing around another mouthful of her breakfast, torn off in her teeth and staring in exasperation at the pair as they’d started their typical process of posturing and stepping-up to one another like they were in the centre of an MMA ring, Jo snapped in exasperation. Both heads swung to look at her immediately as she reached Grey’s side, looking between them. “Hun, I’m sure he’s just by to say thank you or somethin’. Not that big a deal right?” Her free hand rested on his shoulder, rubbing gently at the tight knot of muscle there as he slowly dropped the arm from blocking the door on her side. “Nothin’ to go get riled up about, aye?”

“If that’s all he’s here for, then yes.” Grey growled the words out, his hand lowered from the door frame but immediately going around her waist and tugging her against his side with a sneer towards the other shadow. “And he can say it right here, now, quickly and then fuck right off.”

“I thought I said not to tell me what to do.” Jo blinked a little at the other’s tone, and looked over the heated glare that the pale hand splayed around her waist was getting from him. Gray’s choice in body seemed more expressive than the last, arms crossed tight across his chest with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his fists clearly clenched tightly. As she looked up at his face, there were dark circles under his eyes and a sallow look to his skin that she didn’t think seemed like it should be there - despite the cocky yet angry look he was giving his brother. His eyes didn’t even move to meet hers as he remarked quietly, “But yes, I wanted to say thank you for getting me out of there.”

“You’re welcome, Gray. I see you’ve got yourself back on your feet pretty quick.” She found herself smiling up at him, lifting her toast for another bite as she catalogued the new face in her mind so she wouldn’t be surprised running across him in future. Jo tilted her head to the side when he still wouldn’t look at her, prodding at him with her next remark and a laugh. “You doin’ okay? Your not looking too crash hot.”

She wasn’t lying either, aside from the dark rings under the eyes and the washed out complexion, his shirt was rumpled and looked like he’d been unable to get comfortable in either it or his new skin and he didn’t seem to have the same energy to spare keeping up the cocky bravado against his brother’s glare that was usually so easy for him to conjure up. Gray seemed like he was ill, which made no sense since he’d said he was fine just over a week ago when she’d brought him back.

“I’m fine, sweetie.” The words were growled out in that deep voice she was still surprised to hear but seemed to match his new face well. “Just need to get back into the swing of things again.”

“Oh, you only just getting back to fucking floozies and causing carnage?” Grey snarled the words out, his grip pulling firmer upon Jo’s waist as she moved to take a step forward past him towards the other shadow. “Would have thought that you’d have been at it within minutes, or you still all sad about having died?”

“Fuck you, runt,” Gray snarled back, but it lacked some of the force Jo was used to behind it, and peeling the other’s hand off of her waist as she moved forward onto the stoop, she looked up at him curiously as he continued to avoid looking at her. “I’ll have you know that there will be another five mysterious disappearances to be investigated already.”

“Oooh five whole people, huh?”

“You want to make it six?”

“You don’t have the balls to try it.”

The sniping back and forth made her want to laugh, right up until the way Gray’s face shifted from a smirk into one of surprise at her hand on his arm and the savage sounding hiss she heard behind her. Jo tilted her head to the side looking at him curiously as he looked at her straight on for the first time the whole conversation, eyes wide and hungry. She thought she almost saw something like fear flooding across his face as he seemed to shift unconsciously towards her, leaning down towards her like a plant towards sunlight, before the next second she was holding air and he’d disappeared.

“Well, guess he got his thanks in, huh…” Jo mumbled the words, blinking in surprise herself at the sudden disappearance before stuffing the remains of her chocolate-spread toast into her mouth, turning back to Grey with a confused shrug.

His face was just as confusing for her as the other’s had been, an almost dark and fearful look piercing through his eyes as she moved back to his side and he slammed the door shut. Jo found herself jumping at the sound before her back was pressed against it and she pushed any thought about how bad Gray had looked from her mind at the lips to her neck and hands to her waist.

—

Day 100

“Please.. please don’t do this, Jo.” His voice cracked at the start as Jo could see him moving up the steps of the front stoop, gentle and slow as if to avoid spooking her and make her nail the last strip of iron down across the entry way any quicker than she already was moving. It felt like a nail through her back hearing it, and Jo kept her eyes downcast rather than look up to meet what she was sure were a desperate and wet green-blue. “You don’t need to do this to us. This doesn’t change anything between us, you know it, you know it. Please don’t do this.”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“No, no no, Jo, pretty one, please no. You don’t have to do this at all.”

Jo merely shook her head at that as she lost her grip on the hammer for a moment at the term of endearment harshly whispered at her from where she knew he’d dropped to her height in front of her. She didn’t trust that looking up into his endearing and pained face that she’d have to stomach to drive the last few nails in. “I do need to do this. You’re sick, hun, and it’s all my fault.” Shaking her head again, she readjusted her grip on the hammer before hitting in the next nail in line with her shaking hands. “You both are, and you both need to heal.”

“Really sweetie, you and our bitch sister are making too big a fuss out of this.” The words were dangerous. Jo knew that now, she remembered now just how dangerous that one could be when he wanted to be. She’d forgotten under the gentle but harsh touches and care when she was further gone than she’d ever been before. She’d forgotten after years of other dangers being faced and defeated, a cockiness born from the fading of time. She’d forgotten up until the woods and the hard tree trunk behind her just the influence he had over her. And now he was reclining up against the side of the door frame staring down at her with that same dangerous glint in his eye that made her shake at the memories. “Both me and the runt don’t care, it’s not that big a deal.”

“And if you weren’t currently affected and mind addled, you’d completely agree with me that this is that big a deal, you dick.” Jo growled the words back, glaring up at the cold look he was giving her. There was that shoulder shrug again that made her want to reach out and hit him with the hammer, but instead slammed the head down on the next nail - catching her own under it’s force as well with a hiss. “Fuck, fuckity fucking shit!”

“Jo!” The gasped name made her look up as she shoved her aching finger into her mouth, sucking harshly down on the sore nail that had just taken the brunt of her anger, and regretted it immediately. Grey’s face was right by her’s, not even a foot of distance between them as he crowded as closely as he could to her with the metal between them. She could see his hands twitching to reach, to touch, to reassure and help; and it just made everything hurt as much as her nail did right then. “Are you okay?” That hurt even more, watching as he laid a hand on the iron barrier, trying to get closer.

“God it’s just a hammer, Grey, get your hand back.” She hissed the words out harshly as she pulled her finger from her mouth and tried to keep from leaning forwards towards him in return. The next second he had his hand back against his chest, and Jo felt the stab of discomfort realising it was due to his compulsion to make her happy than his own choices. Jo flinched, moving to hit at the last nail as the disgust at herself ran through her - who knew how much of the last few months was due to his, and the other’s, own wishes and how much was her own. How much damage had she already done to each of them. Thinking back, she couldn’t even remember what she might have said or demanded of them that other than that she’s sure there would be something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it Jo. Please don’t worry, just.. Let me make it better.” That got a shudder running through her, eyes darting up to meet his almost grey in the current light, before flinching again and moving to suck on her still sore finger again rather than reply or give into the pleading, desperate look. Grey’s fingers twitched as if to reach out again, and then he moved in sync with her to his feet now the metal was in place and not able to be moved any time soon. He shifted, crowding against the door way, staring and hands wrapping around the wood as Jo reached out for the door itself with a shaking hand. “Jo, please. I need you, please don’t shut me out.” His grip tightened and there was an audible crack of the wooden doorframe as she began to swing the door closed, his face twisting in a way that made her core ache to have caused. “It doesn’t matter to me about the mark, I love you regardless this doesn’t change anything. Please, let me make this okay.”

“You can’t though.” She shook her head, pulling the door almost all the way closed, already blocking her sight of the other one looming off to the side with an extremely angry look to his face, and running her fingers just millimetres from his own before sighing sadly. There was a flash across his face as she moved her hand back - a dark, dangerous and obsessive flash that she’d not seen on this face of his before - for a second as the wood closed and blocked him out from her sight with a quiet click of the latch. “No one can make this okay.”

—

Day 290

There was an actual knock on the door that day which had surprised her. Typically Bobby would come down and hang out with her for a few hours each day as well as just bringing her down something to eat as and when necessary. She’d begged to be allowed out and throughout the house as long as there was iron down - but her arguments against Shada’s demands that Jo could not be trusted still given the last time she was left to walk free around an only-ironed house - though that had been shut down entirely.

So far that month she had gotten to leave for bathing and bathroom breaks, and one time Bobby had both Sam and Dean over so determined that between three of them they could keep her in line. As if she was a wild horse that refused to be broken and would bolt at the first sign of freedom. As if she was a child that needed to be watched, and cared for, and kept from drinking the colorful bottles under the sink. As if she was a danger to anyone but the shadow. Most of the other days and hours had bled into one another, filled with reading text book upon text book from Bobby’s extensive library collection learning more in a month than she had in her first three years of hunting combined, doing an array of exercises after Bobby had brought an old punching bag into the room for her and a yoga mat for the middle of the floor, and whining for even just an Easy Bake Oven to be brought down to her eventually.

That there was a knock suggested today was something different than usual, and not bothering to check if her shirt was a new one or one that she’d worn for the last week or if she’d brushed her hair yet today or not, the blonde bounded over to the room’s one door expectantly.

“You’ve got a visitor. The girl approved it as one you’re allowed out for.” Jo tilted her head curiously at Bobby’s gruffer than usual tone, the sound of distaste dripping off of every word and that made no sense at all to her. Bobby and Shada were in this together, they’d formulated some fucked up plan without asking her and there was no reason for him to sound so angry about something the girl shadow would have agreed to. “She said somethin’ about your boy not showing up while they’re around, so lets see if her theory holds. Don’t come out of the basement though, I don’t want you disappearin’ on me, girlie.”

“Sure thing?” Her head tilted to the other side curiously as the hunter gave her a stiff nod, a brow raised up as she watched him shuffle out of the basement without another look back at her. Their relationship had been strained after she screamed about how he wasn’t her father - he wasn’t anyone’s father - and he had no right to do this to her on day fifteen right as her period had arrived. Jo hadn’t quite found it in herself to apologise yet as he had yet to apologise for keeping her cooped up either.

Jo looked about curiously, moving around the basement slowly and tiredly as she enjoyed just having some different surroundings for the first time in quite a while. She was flicking open and closed some unfinished curse box when she heard footsteps along the stairs behind her and then the last voice she expected, “Well, well, well, you’ve never looked worse.”

Spinning, Jo ran a speculative eye over him comparing to the last time they’d talked just under four months earlier. He seemed to be doing well compared to what she remembered on hid brother’s face when she’d seen him for the first time in months - Grey’s had been sallow and sickly and appeared to come back to health the minute he’d touched her - and his own had been much the same if a little better condition in the motel room but was now looking absolutely fine without any such requirements. Gray was definitely dressed for the weather outside for once it seemed, with both a coat and his normal suit jacket over the white shirt compared to the relaxed style from earlier in the year when they’d hang out over a movie in Summer. December was definitely upon them, and from the slight dewy look to his coat, she figured it was raining if not snowing outside most days now. The panic room had started to get cold.

“Never? You remember the alley right?” Jo quipped back, folding her arms petulantly under her chest as she stepped back to lean against the bench behind her. That got her a dark look as the shadow appeared to stalk right up to her, closer than she’d been to anyone except Bobby and Shada in almost a month, a snarl on his lips in response.

He gripped her chin in his hand firmly at that point, turning her face to either side under the rough speculation. She’d expected this, him to snap back to mean and rough and not nice to her at all after what she’d unintentionally done to him - a violent kickback to the caring he’d done for her after the alley and then the almost domesticity they’d engaged in for a little while there, curled up together for the odd gory or psychological movie afternoon - and Jo let out a quiet, resigned sigh as his thumb rubbed her jawline roughly.

“You aren’t far off of it, sweetie. When was the last time you got a bit of sun on that skin of yours? Brushed your hair even? Please tell me you’ve been keeping your oral hygiene up.”

“Why? Not like it matters to anyone else.”

“I doubt the runt’s going to want to kiss you when your teeth have all fallen out is all. I’m sure the blow jobs’d be good though.”

“I’d have you know, mine are great as they are.”

“I’m sure you think so, sweetie.”

The bickering felt strangely normal for them, normal in the sense of the last year of his life, and Jo’s eyes widened as she looked up at him to see a bemused smirk on his lips rather than anything sinister or cruel as she’d expected. There was a moment when she saw he’d finally noticed her looking back at him, and his lips curled up a little wider, a little more amused still.

“Really though, when was the last time you looked in the mirror - you look a frightful mess. Imagine what the runt’d say seeing you-”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to see him for quite a while so I guess that doesn’t matter.” Jo snapped the words back, turning her head to look away from him petulantly. At that moment, something struck with her and jerking her head back and running a hand over her hair, Jo gaped up at him. “Are you back to normal?!”

“By normal, do you mean I’m no longer filled with an agony at your not being around and the unending desire to do whatever you say?” Gray’s voice filled with that dangerous tone, soft and silky and washing over her, as his hand moved from her chin to her neck - tilting her head up towards him as if judging the boundaries with her. “Then yes, I’m back to normal. All that…Joanna spread on my Vice is gone.”

“Do.. Do you think he’ll be back soon?” Jo found herself asking quietly, almost as if ripped unbidden from her throat as she looked up at him pleadingly. It would be a dream come true for the other to be okay so soon.

That got a dark chuckle however, as Gray dropped his hand from her skin and took a step back from her with a shake of his head and something she thought looked familiar - that unknowable and indecipherable look he got for a while - cloaked across his face as he looked back at her. “Not by a long shot. You and I? We weren’t as… entwined as you and the runt.”

Jo flushed at that phrasing, her eyes darting back away from him immediately with a scowl. “Yeah, well, that was one time and it was a mistake.”

“Oh undoubtedly. It was a mistake for sure to give you a go at what you’re missing out on being with the runt.”

“Fuck you, that’s not at all what I meant.”

“If I recall, you already did recently too, sweetie.” Gray’s laugh was just as dangerous as his words could be, and Jo found herself shaking her head in response to him before the sound stopped. “But you’re right. It was a mistake and I look forward to now being able to go enjoy some much more fun, less prudish and freaked out girls than yourself now that little issue is fixed up.”

“If I asked you not to go killin’ them, I doubt you’d listen, right?”

“Too right.” He stepped back towards her as Jo had rolled her eyes on her previous comments, and found herself rolling them again as he tweaked her nose with a smirk. “However, since you’re so miserable, I may just hold off on killing all of them. Misery loving company after all.”

“Then you’re goin’ to be in the very best company.”

—

Day 45

“This really is too big for one hunter, Jo, and you know it.”

“Oh my god, no it’s not!”

“I hate to agree with him, but he’s not wrong sweetie-”

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Jo found herself growling out the words from her spot in Grey’s lap on the couch, slamming her journal shut with a dissatisfying thud as she looked between the two men with a scowl. “It’s just a little vampire nest, it’s really not that hard or much for me.”

“A… a little nest, huh? Then why did Bobby say it was looking like ten vampires, hmm?” Grey snapped back, his arms moving to wrap about her waist as she made a move as if to get up in a huff. “That sure doesn’t sound like a little nest to me. Does it sound little to you, dickhead?”

“I don’t think he-”

“Oh I definitely agree, that is not just a little nest you’re going after there. You’re going for a full blown, three or more hunters type set up there and you know it, sweetie.” Gray replied, picking up on the slack from the other shadow’s line of commentary, giving a short nod of agreement from where he was standing near the front windows, looking out onto the street. “I figure you’re going to need to call in those Winchester buddies of yours for this.”

“Last I heard, Dean broke his foot and is out of commission for another month.” The other jumped in as Jo opened her mouth to agree and then brush off the concerns with a little white lie or two - she could have taken just Sam and they’d still be fine for the most part, five vampires each shouldn’t be too hard between them. “And Sam’s off on some demonic omens down south so they’re out of the picture.”

“Have you been listenin’ in on my calls?”

“Can’t be listening in when you just talk so loudly, Jo.” Grey smirked a little and Jo found herself cursing mentally that that looked far too good on his current face. “So, guess you’ll need to palm it off on someone else cause I’m not letting you go through all that hard work with… with getting me out to go get yourself turned into a vampire-snack.” She might have been feeling sour and glared at that term, but his hand was stroking through her hair and it was smoothing away the lines of her frown quickly.

“I mean..” Jo felt Grey’s hand freeze, right behind her ear, as the other spoke up quietly from where he was standing. Turning her head slightly, she saw Gray was fiddling with his sleeves awkwardly, pushing them up and then pulling them down again, before he added with a curious lack of emotion to the words. “Well, one of us could always accompany her if there were no other options and sweetie was absolutely determined to complete this… hunt.”

There was a long strained silence following that word. Gray seemed to turn his attention back out the window, as if disinterested in the topic in general himself. Grey on the other hand appeared to be staring, borderline glaring, across at the other as if trying to work out exactly what the other had meant by bringing up such an idea.

And Jo was looking down at her journal in her lap, head tilted forward as her mind flashed to the last time she had gone on a hunt with someone else. It had been such a sunny day and it had been so nice after they’d left the cave with the burnt out remains. She could almost feel the sun on her cheeks and the way he’d slipped the flowers into her hair with that carefree look as they trekked back down. She could almost feel the life drifting away under her fingers as the pulse got weaker. She could actually smell the metallic scent of blood in her nose, clogging up her senses and throwing her mind straight back to that point, as her teeth had bit down hard enough to draw blood on her bottom lip - stuck in the memory of it.

“Not Grey.” She croaked the words out, hands gripping onto her journal tightly as she blinked her eyes back into reality rather than reliving that moment - so so long ago for her but still so so fresh to her - to see two extremely concerned faces staring at her. There was a second before a flash of understanding crossed the named shadow’s face and he had his forehead pressed against hers in a blink, calm tones behind whispered to her as his arms rubbed her back now. “You… you can’t.”

“I won’t, I promise Jo. I won’t go and it won’t happen again.” Grey murmured quietly, pressing his lips to her forehead before glaring across her crown to the other, hissing sharply, “Look what you did.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to fix it and tag along with her, won’t I?”

—

Day 320

Jo had actually started looking forward to the days she’d get these visits.

Not just because they were the few days that she got to sit about in the lounge room and stretch her legs. Not just because she would get to bake in the real oven and would spend over five hours just relieving the stress she couldn’t quite work off in her normal slashing ways. Not just because they were the days that she got to have windows open and sit with her face in actual sunlight hitting on her.

But because they always included a boundless amount of false perkiness from the other woman as she tried to conceal how things were going. How things were taking forever to heal - in a way that even Crowley’s influence hadn’t taken. How the siblings were no longer on speaking terms - something that Jo knew would be cutting the girl deeper and deeper every time that she went to check on her brother - except for any messages that the girl had to take back from Jo herself. How the other had ironed himself into the house despite the burning to simply avoid the other shadow - and how both Winchester brother’s had been called in together and separately almost a handful of times to remove the offending elements and try to speak to the angry, agonised man.

Shada tried so hard to conceal the stress, but Jo could always tell when something had gone poorly. It was usually evident from the sheer amount of shopping bags the woman brought with her, the more bags, the worse it was going.

Today there were over fifteen shopping bags with items ranging from the latest designer fashions for the shadow herself, to a selection of warm clothes and blankets and throws for Jo in her little buried tower, to books that Jo had expressed an interest in getting her hands on for reading that weren’t just books on lore and monsters, to what she thought were supposed to be knick knacks to “brighter up” the panic room and “girl it up” compared to the stark walls and sketchy calendar that Jo hadn’t bothered to take down just yet.

“And so this really cute guy was like ‘Can I get you an aspirin? Cause it must have hurt when you fell from Heaven’ and like... thought that was a good pick up line. On me of all people too!” Shada flipped her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated flounce and pout on her face, the dark plum lipstick for today part of some trend Jo had spotted as up and coming in the last fashion magazine the other had left with her. It seemed that the shadow was taking Jo’s imprisonment to really be more a captive audience to get Jo into fashion and designers like the shadow was - and Jo had found herself slowly becoming interested out of sheer boredom, not that she’d admit it. The other woman rolled her eyes as she lifted her pineapple juice to her lips taking a dainty sip before shrugging her shoulder. “At least he was cute.”

“Oh yeah, they gotta be cute or it’s just tacky.”

“I know right?” There was a pause and a slightly wistful sigh from the other which had Jo raising her brow in questioning response. “I wish more of the cute guys I know would be interested in talking to me.”

“If you’re-”

“Relax, I know my brother is in a very good looking man at the moment, but I know. I meant possibly more one of your so called brothers.” Shada held up her hand to shut down the objection Jo always found popping up in defence, or perhaps it was in possessiveness, of the other shadow. Jo spluttered a little on her sip of her soft drink at the shadow’s words, the other brow raising in surprise as the other rolled her eyes. “Mother, you are so judgey for someone who wanted to go there herself.”

“Nah, more just surprised you have crossed paths enough-”

“Once is more than enough to acknowledge cuteness, cupcake, and you know it. But they’ve both been very helpful dealing with brother-”

“He been locking himself in again? Has he been feeding enough? Is he okay? How’s Nana? Did you see Amon last time you were there? Did Bobby and the boys keep his list updated? I can get some more cases if he needs.”

“Whoa there,” The dark-haired girl held her hand up with her forcefully placed smile cracking slightly under Jo’s onslaught of questions. It was always the same and she would feel bad for doing it to the other if it weren’t the gnawing feelings inside that she absolutely needed to know the answers. She had to know he was okay, that he was going to be there when she finally got home. She felt the prickle starting in her eyes as she sucked in a nervous breath waiting for the other to answer, always stuck waiting for someone else to answer her what was going on in her own life now.

Shada appeared to pause before shrugging in lieu of answering, her hands wrapping calmly around her juice glass and the dark purple manicure with her black sparkly hearts seemed just right for the time of year. It would be Valentine’s soon, or perhaps Jo had missed it - she’d gotten lax at crossing off days on her pin-up calendar and would need to ask someone to tell her the date later, not that the calendar was even the right year any more. If she remembered to ask.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Jo snarled the words out, glaring out the window and eyes darting about the small section of salvage yard she could see from there. Maybe if she looked hard enough or was lucky she’d spot the messy dark curls, if she was very lucky. Sighing sadly, she sunk slightly down in her chair as she spotted the back of the older hunter’s head instead as he weaved throughout the yard, asking quietly instead in the hopes of finally getting an answer to something. “How much longer is this going to last..”

The other shadow merely shrugged again in response, her eyes not meeting Jo’s own and she found herself sighing again. Waiting wasn’t particularly hard any more to her, but the waiting without an end date was killing her slowly inside every day.

—

Day 400

“Okay, this had better be really fucking important.” The remark floated down the stairs ahead of him as Jo had been sitting in the centre of the panic room, door wide open and no one between her and her freedom. She barely noticed the words, nor did she notice when the man turned around the corner of the stairs to see straight through to where she was. Jo had barely noticed anything for the last 36 hours other than the book held tightly in her hands against her chest, clutched against her like Leo to the door. “Ah. That does seem important. Sweetie is just sitting like an idiot, clearly something that needed my assistance.”

“Just shut up, she’s been like this for two days now.” The other shadow snapped the words back at the taller one, hand wrapped tightly around his wrist and refusing to let go as he tugged to turn and leave. Jo is sure that Shada had not expected the fight with her other brother to go as poorly as it had done - Shada couldn’t understand the significance of some silly celebration about one’s existence starting, shadows shared their creation day with many many of their siblings - there was nothing special about it worth getting her throat crushed and a threat to be drained before the older hunter had loosed an iron round into his brother’s shoulder. And then for Jo to appear almost catatonic in response to some little book of drawings made no sense at all to anyone but her. Only one person could possibly have some insight, and it had taken hours to convince him to return now that he did not have the stain. “Do freaking something to fix this!”

“Have you thought to, I don’t know, give her the runt?”

“Something helpful to fix it. No wonder they call your a dickhead.”

“You’d know all about my old one, sis, want to give this one a go?”

Shada had flushed in response to that, and had scurried away under the pretence of avoiding his “gross suggestions” leaving the responsibility to “fix cupcake” to her brother.

Jo didn’t notice at all until the tennis ball hit her in the head that there was anyone outside the room, frowning slightly to herself as she released her grip of one hand and reached up to rub at her temple gently. She froze noticing the man standing just outside the panic room door - his sleeves rolled up and sans jacket, meaning the weather must be nice outside or he was trying to be more approachable for her.

“Sweetie, what have you gone and done to get everyone so worried?” The question came out gently, like someone trying to coax a feral animal out from it’s den, but the smirk on his face was anything but nice. She’s sure this would be thoroughly amusing to him. “You want to come out and tell me all about it.”

“Is that a request or a demand?” Jo’s voice sounded rough, dry and harsh from the lack of use recently, as she shifted awkwardly in her spot, hands pressing the sketchbook tighter against her chest. “I haven’t done nothin’.”

“Oh, I absolutely believe you’ve done nothing, sweetie. I think that is what they are all freaking out about.”

“So they want me to do something? The something I want-”

“Sweetie, I can already tell what you want. Now, get up, brush those legs off and come over here so we can talk proper.”

The words made her blink in surprise as she looked between the confusing look - that damn look - on the shadow’s face and the dark leather book in her arms as if trying to toss up which would comfort her more. She’d been pouring all of her need for comfort into the black book filled with drawings that both helped and hurt her - drinking them in like she was in a desert in need of thirst - but so far it had not helped the gnawing, gaping hole she’d not felt since she first entered the forests of Purgatory with a game plan and mission in mind. So far, that hole had begun to open again the longer she spent away from him, from the original cause of that pain that had almost healed before this separation tore the healing, fragile skin open again day by day.

“Come on, Jo.” The gentle prodding was all she needed to set the book down reverently upon the bed she had been using for months now and step out of the room, over the iron boundary that was what separated her from who she really wanted to be comforted by. She knew that it would revile the man in front of her to be thought of as second best, but as she approached, she felt her feet moving faster until she was pressed into his chest and let it out finally.

She could feel his discomfort spilling out of him as much as her tears were spilling out of her and into his shirt front. She could feel his arms stiffen to his sides for the first minute as if expecting her to release him quickly. She could feel one of them wrap around her shoulders and his palm spread across her back, a hot brand against her numb-cold. She could feel the other begin to stroke over her hair uncertainly, an attempt to mimic what he may have seen or what he’d done in past or just what seemed to feel right, but all it did was cause her to cry harder. If he’d been the right person then he’d know exactly what to do. He’d know to press their foreheads together, to stare her down and stroke her tears away with his thumbs, to kiss her so sweetly she’d forget all about her tears.

Instead it took almost half an hour for her tears to finally dry up, the beginnings of a headache dragging at her temples and her cheeks feeling sore and dried out from the salty substance that had coated them. She might have been a mess the last time they spoke, but Jo knew it had nothing on the way she would look now as she finally shifted back a little to look up at him. Gray’s face was pure disgust as she sniffed at her blocked nose, wiping across it with her sleeve.

And for the first time in ages, Jo found herself laughing.

—

Day 23

“Seriously why the fuck do you keep showing up here?” Grey snapped the words out from where he sat against the back door to the kitchen, arms crossed and legs stretched to cover the entry as if it was a barrier to the whole space. “It’s not like we want you here.”

“Oh, so you speak for the both of you now, do you runt?” The response was ground out between his teeth as Gray stood against the bottom banister of the steps with a frown. “Didn’t realise sweetie had lost her voice.”

“Fuck you-”

“Guys! Please!” Jo jerked herself to her feet from where she’d been reclining along the steps, her foot had been pressed up against Gray’s calf and one hand rested back across Grey’s thigh originally.

It had been something of a strangely tense point of topic for the last week as a whole - that the other shadow had been hanging around more, first just lurking outside the house like a bad smell, and then catching Jo as she’d gone about her day in increasing frequency. It had been driving Grey crazy each time he spotted the pair of them near one another, and had started following Jo about as she’d throw the ball with Nana or increasingly coming up with ways to keep her busy inside. Or exhausted as one day had.

“Hey, he started it!”

“Me?! I was just here to say hi-”

“Oh right, because you spending over an hour talking is just ‘hi’.”

“Maybe you just don’t say ‘hi’ properly. What, only take you two minutes, runt? Doesn’t surprise me you wouldn’t have the stamina for a proper.. hello.”

Jo stamped her foot loudly on the bottom step at that point as the shadow near the door had thrown himself to his feet, hands outstretched towards the other at that last remark. Her foot made a loud cracking sound on the weathered wood below, almost snapping it into two.

“That is enough!” Glaring between the two shadows, neither appearing to be stepping down from the aggressive feelings towards one another, but at least Grey’s hands were down by his side and Gray’s had slipped out of his pocket where he stored his razor without removing the silver weapon. That was a start. Stamping her foot again and throwing her hands out between them as Jo shifted to block their paths to one another, she first turned towards the taller of the pair, eyes pleading. “Gray, God, just stop starting shit. I know you don’t want to admit you like comin’ around here, but if you keep this up, you’re not goin’ to be welcome much longer. Please don’t make this any harder than it is. Just leave him alone for fucks sake; don’t piss your brother off for no fucking reason.”

“I..” Jo frowned slightly as she watched him appear to seethe with anger, eyes focused above her head where she could feel the other looming, before her face changed to surprise. The shadow appeared to let out a shaky breath, hands going back into his pockets and his head bowed slightly in a nod to her, eyes dropped to her face instead of the one she was sure was glaring down from above her, wide and clear and full of something she couldn’t quite pick. “I… Can do that. But only for you, sweetie.”

There was something to the look she was getting that seemed strange on the other, the slight incline of his head and the way he seemed to almost shudder when her hand touched his shoulder. The somewhat hungry and something else look in his eye as Jo smiled at him, shocked to see one come back at her in return. Shaking her head as she dropped her hand and turned back around towards the other, she couldn’t help thinking that he was such an asshole for picking that face.

“Hun…” Jo could see the fire hiding behind his greenish-blue eyes as she turned back to Grey, hands going straight to either side of his face, fingers brushing just into his hair as she moved to the next step up and attempting to draw his eyes to look at hers instead of glaring holes into the other shadow. There was a second when she thought he wouldn’t be able to pull away from the hatred to really listen to her, before he was pining her with a look instead. She sighed heavily as she stepped up the next step to be on the same level yet still always shorter and looking up at him. “Grey, he doesn’t mean any harm. He took care of me when..” Jo felt her throat tighten for a moment, her thumb stroking over the cheekbone that didn’t match the ones she had dreamed of for years but that had become so familiar in just three weeks as it was. “When you weren’t able to. He cared for me, he saved me. And I had to save him too, you know this. And now? You need to accept that we’re friends. You have to accept that, and stop tryin’ to stop me spend time with him just cause you don’t like him.”

“Jo..” The word was a whined tone, Grey’s eyes darting between each of her’s and then staring over her head down where Gray was kicking a foot out towards the battered bottom step as if not wanting to hear or acknowledge anything that Jo was saying. She could see the pull to shout and disagree, but leaning up, Jo pressed her lips to his softly before pulling back with a quizzical quirk of her eyebrow, inquiring if he would acquiesce to her request. There was a heavy sigh before she felt his hands wrap about her waist and his head dropped onto her shoulder with another sigh. “Okay.. Okay Jo, whatever you want.”

—

Day 450

Their phone calls had become more frequent in the last month, something shifting in the way their conversations wouldn’t always end with him asking her to come home or in how her heart didn’t end up twisted around itself at having to refuse him something they both so definitely needed. She couldn’t pinpoint when it was that they had changed so much, but she’d found herself laughing more often than not and hearing his own tone filled with amusement instead of just longing.

“And then when Aziraphale gave him the flask of Holy Water-”

“In the plaid little flask! Yes! Oh I so love the 70′s vibes in that part.”

“You would not have liked the 70′s, Jo, all the women- wait, no you would have loved it. Bra burning and jeans being all the rage.”

“Hey!” Jo laughed down the line as she swung up onto the back two legs of the kitchen chair she was sitting on, swallowing down her giggles at the look she was being shot from the grumpy older hunter in the other room. She was absolutely certain she’d over stayed her welcome more than five months ago, but it was his fault for teaming up with the foxy little minx to drag her here. He could deal with her actually having an enjoyable conversation for once. “I’ll have you know, I wore a bra two separate times this week!”

“Two times, huh? What colour?”

“What?”

“What colour, Jo?”

“I... We are not discussing that on this line!” Jo could feel herself flushing more and more at his questions, rubbing her other cheek with one hand as she let out another giggle. He could hear his own rough, soft laughter in response from down the line under the slight static of the old phone line. She decided she loved that laugh of his the most in that moment. “And I won’t tell you what fabric either.”

“I bet they were black and lace, maybe even no fixed cups.” There was something in his tone that made her squirm and stand up out of her chair, pulling the phone cord and chair around into the hallway out of the other hunter’s sight. She was not going to have that happen in front of Bobby of all people. “Did the panties match?”

“God, have you been talking to your sister or something? You realise she is the source of all my clothes at the moment-”

“So it’s all black and purple and more than a little revealing for your body type?”

“Yeah pretty much. Pretty sure Sam got an eyeful last month and he hasn’t looked me in the eye since.” Jo chuckled slightly, shifting so she could lean back against the wall if she tipped the chair just right, balancing on the back legs and crossing her own as she kicked her feet in the air. “I cannot wait to get into my own wardrobe again.”

“I can’t wait to get you out of your own wardrobe.”

“Seriously? I’m on a landline and Bobby’s in the next room, hun!”

“I bet you’re bright red right now.” Grey’s laugh came through the line again, and Jo let out an indignant noise in response, scrubbing at her cheeks as if that would make it disappear. There was a pause before she felt herself calming down from the embarrassment at his next words, “But seriously, I can’t wait until you get to come home, Jo. I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“I.. I think I’ve been getting better. It.. hasn’t been like knives painful but just-”

“Longing painful?”

“Exactly.” There was another pause, and Jo could practically visualise the way he would be scratching at the back of his neck, trying to decide if he wanted to say what must be running through his mind or not. Whether or not it would upset her, if it would end up with her crying or not. “I think I’m almost better, Jo. I mean, it’s hard to tell cause I’ve always loved you this much, but I think it’s changing back to normal? I mean, I’ve been thinking about going and beating the dickhead into a pulp more and more lately-”

“That’s.. really not the best way to decide if you’re healing, is it?” Jo let out a laugh hearing that though, shaking her head as she imagined just how furious he was going to be once the mark was gone. “But maybe it is. Let me know the moment you plan to attack him and come attack me instead?”

Grey appeared to suck in a breath at that, and she wasn’t sure what it was about but then there was a long quiet pause. Waiting another second, Jo let out a laugh. “You know I can’t hear you noddin’, hun.”

—

Day 48

“This… this was wrong.” Jo mumbled the words out, hands shaking slightly as she moved to button up the front of her flannel shirt as quickly as she could to stave off the cold night air. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Sweetie, it takes two to tango, stop taking all the blame.” The silky tone as his fingers pushed a strand of her mussed hair back behind her ear was just as dangerous now as it had been as soon as the last of the vampires’ heads was removed from their body. It was a dangerous, dangerous sound, and Jo could feel her knees buckling slightly all over again. “If you must, you can tell the runt I manipulated it again, like the last times.”

There was the sound like a whip crack through the quiet night as her hand slapped across his face, glaring up at him from where she was still crowded up against the thick, rough tree trunk. It felt good to slap the self-deprecating look off of his face, as well as shut down the possibility that he thought so little of her to do that. Jo dropped her hand down, rubbing at the slightly pink surface of her palm with a frown.

It had not been planned or expected at all.

The tracking had been easy enough, and Jo had almost been surprised by how well they worked together through it all. It felt strange to work in tandem with someone who already knew off the bat how she worked, as well as adjusting and adapting the both of them to one another’s strengths and weaknesses. If he’d been a regular hunter, Jo’d have been asking when they could work together again in future. Instead, she’d moved to give him a celebratory kiss to the cheek and a joke about his making a fine hunter for something that deserved hunting. That plan however fell into ruins when he’d turned to face her as she’d tugged on his jacket to pull him down towards her level.

From there Gray not slowed down or moved back for one second as he’d pressed her back against the closest tree of the band of trees they’d been walking through. Jo had not expected it at all, and she’d really not expected the reaction from herself to be to pull him in closer rather than to push him away. It had been a blink of the eye in some senses and a decade in others that they’d moved from kissing to his teeth biting down on her neck like the monsters they’d just destroyed and her moans echoing through the trees. Everything after seemed like a blur to her, hands places they shouldn’t have been, clothes fumbled with and reverently opened. Kisses trailing over her skin with words whispered she couldn’t quite hear but seemed so familiar yet so different. Gentle touches followed immediately by harder ones, and despite the coarse bark at her back and the rough way he’d pushed into her after she’d been good and ready for it, the whole experience was black and white to the last time so long ago it had happened between them.

“Don’t you ever, ever accuse me of that type of thing ever again, you asshole!”

“What the fuck?!” Gray shouted back at her, his clothes righted and hand still in her hair beside her cheek, a frown on his face as his eyes stared down at her - black as the night sky above them and filled with something she was really starting to understand and wished she didn’t. “I was giving you an out, sweetie. Giving you a way to keep the runt from screaming blue murder and just make me hate him same as always. He can’t really dislike me any more than he already does.”

“By lying!” She practically screamed the word at him, shoving his arm away from her and stalking past him with a stubborn set to her jaw. Her fingers twitched to draw out her machete and just slash something to get rid of some of the tumultuous feelings rushing through her. Jo knew this was bad, this was going to be so very very bad; but she wasn’t going to make it worse by hiding the truth. “I would never lie to him like that.”

Shaking her head, Jo found herself thinking quietly as she trudged onward through the small woodland towards where her car was parked on the side of a dusty back road. She could hear his heavy footfalls keeping time with her, but none of the ragged breathing she was doing - clearly more comfortable than she was about everything. Her mind was whirring through what had just happened though, and raising a hand to her lips behind the curtain of her hair, Jo could feel the soft and almost tender way he’d kissed her still on her swollen lips.

“Hey, so what was all that about anyway?”

“What was what about?”

“All the, uh, well everything.” Jo found herself struggling over the words, dropping her fingers from her mouth and tucking them into her pockets as she stepped over a fallen log gracelessly. Her lips twitched into a scowl as she watched his longer legs step over it fluidly without the awkward trip she had done. “That was really different to before.”

“What can I say, death makes one re-evaluate how you behave, how you act and what’s important.” His voice was soft in the quiet night, but Jo could hear him crystal clear and found herself frowning deeper at the almost wistful, longing tone in his words. That couldn’t be possible though. Shaking her head, she almost sighed in relief when he spoke up again, words a little clearer and louder. “So… You’re going to tell him the truth, huh?”

“Why? Scared?” She quipped back, ducking under a low lying branch and smiling a bit as Jo saw him have trouble doing the same with the same graceful motion that stepping over an obstacle had been.

“For me? Never.”

Jo’s eyes flashed at that, looking over her shoulder as she trudged on, lips curling into a confused look at the other’s qualifier and the studiously blank look her gave her in return as he moved quickly with his longer legs to catch up with her. For all intents and purposes, he did not look like he’d just done anything wrong. And really he hadn’t been the one to.

—

Day 301

"I swear Bobby, if I don't get something else to do than read these fucking books again or bash that punching bag, I will fucking deck myself."

There was a weary sigh from the older hunter at that, and Jo would see the stress she must have been causing him starting to wear him down. It didn't feel good at all. Bobby was the closest thing she had left to a father, and being the cause of more grey hairs and wrinkles for him than she wanted to think about really hurt her.

However, he was still insisting on keeping her locked up like some princess in a fairytale. Granted it was a fairly fucked up one now - girl meets monster and falls madly in love after a lot of denials, monster is killed in her arms. Girl goes back in time and lives in a cave in a monster infested sunshine-less to free monster and his brother, causing a marking on him that compelled the monster to do her biding. Girl gets locked up in an underground iron bunker where monster cannot save her from her captors who love her too. If it was made into a movie, Jo would call it a Twilight Wannabe and opt for Beautiful Creatures out of that genre but she couldn't really do that with real life.

"Joeygirl, you know as well as I that you agree with what we're doing."

"Just cause I agree doesn't mean I don't want my freedom!"

"From what I hear, your being allowed your own choices when it comes to it is to allow that perversion to continue."

"Not... Intentionally. " Jo felt the words roll off her tongue and knee that the other would pick them up as the omission they really were. That while she might have not intended for things to end up as they did on the previous year, that there was absolutely no way that her taking the iron from the door was not going to end with the pair of them as they did. "I mean, I just wanted to give him a birthday present."

"Uh huh, sure thing. And that couldn't have been done with the iron separating you, why?"

He had her there. She could have just handed the sketchpad over and said what she felt needed to be said - that she loved him and missed him and wished they could go back and never go after those god forsaken wendigos together - but that would have been cruel and painful with the metal barrier between them. But saying them without was always going to end up the way it did.

“Oh stop being so right, goddamn it.” Jo snapped back, crossing her arms as well as her legs as she slumped down childishly on the rickety cot that had been her bed for nights upon nights. “God it’s like you’ve decided I’m on a prison sentence in this place.”

“I got you that fruity little toy last month-”

“Yeah cause not gettin’ me a Christmas present would have been completely inhumane on top of this all.”

There was another sigh from the older hunter as he shifted on the armchair he was resting in. The door was open for once and Jo could feel the fresh yet musty air coming in from the basement - not so much fresh nor any different to the clean and replenished air of the panic room, but just different smells to that of iron, drying salt and the scent of burnt crumbs from the bottom of her little pink oven in the last month - but Bobby had positioned himself between her seat on her bed and the door itself.

“Look, Jo, I get this is hard on you-”

“It’s like the Roadhouse and Mom all over again!”

“-hard on you, but you care about your... guy right?”

“Of course.”

“So, you need to be strong enough to stand all this. I can’t pretend to understand what’s gone and happened to you these last two years since you dropped that dog off year before last-”

Jo felt a shudder run through herself remembering how that had been the last time she saw the older hunter - her hair still matted and coated on the ends with the dried blood of her lover, her hands scrubbed but not clean and the haunted look that had been etched on every single inch of her face as she asked him to “look after her” as she handed him the leash for her baby and was gone within minutes - before her arrival still covered in mud and muck from Purgatory with two blood covered arms but what she was sure was an almost deranged grin on her face. She had been in touch, she’d talked frequently and kept the hunter updated as needed before she’d gone back, and had done much the same once she was back - but she had not stopped by to see him to assuage any of his fears.

“-but you seemed to be doing okay for a while there before y’all realised what foolishness you’d gone and done.”

“You’ve been talkin’ to Shada, haven’t you?” Jo’s words were a question, but they sounded more like a statement of fact in the air between them.

The other hunter took his baseball cap off with one hand and ran the other over his hair underneath and then stroked through his beard, clearly uncomfortable with how easily Jo could pick up the unexpected development between hunter and monster. “She’s a good source of information. Especially about how to scare that boy off when he shows up.”

“So that’s why you’ve not let me wander the house, huh?”

“Girlie, he’s here at least once a day.” Bobby’s voice sounded pained in some way, as if the stress wasn’t just from her own end and dealing with her own actions. That he was dealing with Grey’s appearances and whatever that shadow could throw at him made her clench her jaw and swear to herself that she would try to be less painful for the older man.

“I’d say this whole... stain thing is a horrifying experience on his end, but I remember him just appearin’ over your getting nibbled on. Pretty sure you’ve been stained and coated all over him from then, even if you both deny it.”

—

Day 398

The first thing she noticed that morning was shouts outside of the door to her room. That was unusual enough as it was, very rarely did anyone come downstairs to talk unless to talk to her, let alone get into all out screaming matches that made her remember her and her mother’s old ones when she was younger.

The second thing she noticed was that the panic room door was shut completely when she’d had it open slightly to let in a breeze overnight when she went to sleep. Getting out of the bed and tugging the hoodie down over her bare legs, Jo moved to check the door and felt a flood of panic realising it had been locked from the outside. Someone had locked her in there for the first time in months.

The third thing she noticed was exactly the context of the shouts and who’s voice it was.

“It’s her fucking birthday! I am not leaving until I’ve seen her.”

“Brother, don’t you dare take that tone with me! I’ve spent so long trying to help you-”

“Help me? Help me?! You have done nothing but ruin everything, Shada, now let me see her!”

“No! Not after last time!”

Jo frowned slightly as she tugged at the door handle, as if she pulled it enough that it might be able to dislodge and open the heavy door with just her sheer force of will. She thought over the words, frown deepening as she realised that she’d lost track of time again. She’d lost track of the day, and when did it become April after all, and had forgotten that she had her birthday coming up any time soon. She had hoped she’d be home by then - pushing the date back further and further mentally to give them more time, more time to be together for her birthday, to be home for it not trapped in some iron, salt prison cell.

Shaking her head, she could hear the screaming was continuing but she could understand none of it from then on either due to language or context, she couldn’t understand what they were flinging at one another other than it was designed to hurt. It was in that horrible language that grated on her ears and hurt to listen to for too long. Occasionally there would be a jab in English - about how fucked up the situation was, about that foul demon, about how long she thought she could control others to ignore her own failings, about not being able to trust one another any more. About sacrifices that were made for one another. About being left behind in Purgatory. About foolish humans ruining everything. At least on that point she agreed.

She gave the door a sharp slam with her fist as the screaming continued - surprised when suddenly both voices stopped and Jo could almost feel him with how close he was now. She knew she couldn’t really, but it felt nice to pretend. Sometimes pretending was the only way to get through a day.

Slamming the door again one more time, Jo let out an exhausted laugh before she moved back over to her cot and pulled the thick dark blue comforter that the girl had brought her last week over her head. Maybe now the yelling had stopped she could fall back to sleep and sleep away the day instead of acknowledging that she was another year older and spending the day trapped in her buried tower.

She didn’t wake up until the room was practically in pitch black, what little light filtered from outside already gone. As she sat up and spotted a tray with a plate of sandwiches sat out on her desk to await her, Jo thought perhaps she had slept the whole day through and could pretend it never happened. Right up until she’d lifted the plate and noticed the leather bound sketchbook she had gifted six months earlier when she’d last seen him.

The rest of her night had been spent flicking through the pages, water marks forming on each and every page as she turned them, tears splattering and stretching out a line here or a shading patch there of the hundreds of small sketches - sketches of various flowers or landscapes, of the city skyline of their home town, sketches of their baby in the sun or playing or napping, sketches of the demonic wolf prowling or glaring or snarling, sketches that seemed to be self-studies of his new eyes, his new profile, his new hair texture, his new smile, his new tears.

And then there were the sketches from memory tucked everywhere, every corner of each page was filled with something she recognised - her face, her eyes, her hair, her pack, her legs, her necklace and her scars, her necklace, her smile, her frown. Every page was drenched in her and in some places covered over and over and over, as if obsessively, irrationally, uncontrollably needed to be released from his mind. As if putting it on paper would take the images from his mind and let him heal any quicker.

As if putting it on paper would hurt any less for the both of them.

—

Day 14-22

The oven was beeping the timer behind them that the cupcakes would be ready and probably starting to get overly brown on top. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear it and the little voice complaining that they’d be too dried out if they stayed in much longer, but that was shut down immediately with a breathy moan as their hips shifted together tightly. Her hands held tight to the edge of the counter top as his mouth sucked harshly on the pulse point of her neck and they both groaned together. By the time they were done, the cupcakes would be black on top and thrown straight into the bin without any sort of regret.

Showers were still the most amazing feeling for her after so long without one, and Jo had found herself spending upwards of thirty minutes basking under the hot streams of water each day without even considering it strange. Somehow after nine straight days of indulgence since finally getting home it had still not gotten old for her, and she could still find dirt under her nails or a piece of her hair she felt hadn’t fully returned to it’s golden shine. While alone she could enjoy the water pressure and cleansing feeling, as she felt his hands running through her hair and chest against her back - somehow hotter than the water itself or maybe that was just the flush - Jo knew that she’d be in it for an extra long time that day.

The scent of bacon coming up from downstairs woke her up first, and Jo shifted about with an audible crack to her back while she scrubbed at the sleep crusted in the corners of her eyes. As she moved to throw the comforter back, she jumped in surprise hearing the command of “No, Jo, stay in bed.” Her eyes had blown wide in surprise and pleasure as she watched Grey walk carefully into the room, a tray held precariously between both hands as Nana weaved around his legs, before it was rested across her lap with a kiss to the forehead. She nearly cried at the sight of bacon, eggs, pancakes and syrup, coffee and juice, and the single peony rested across the top of the tray as he reached about to pile pillows behind her back with a gentle smile.

Jo was exhausted and ready to collapse, even needing a supportive arm around her waist as they made their way up the stairs. She had lost count before lunch the number of times she’d gotten off, and lost track of time by some point in the afternoon as a whole. It wasn’t even her birthday, as she’d said more than ten times throughout the day, but it had been two weeks since he’d been back according to him. And he intended to thank her for every single day at least once before her head touched the pillow that night. He’d definitely achieved that as it was, and rolling onto her back Jo had let out a tired laugh at the still lust filled eyes that looked down at her before her hands had grabbed his hair, pulling him down to her yet again.

“Oh what a good girl, yes you are!” Her voice rang across the yard as she fished the drool covered ball out of the dog’s grip before throwing it again across the lawn, letting out a loud “Fetch, girl!” There was a laugh from behind her as she made a disgusted look at the sticky drool still on her hand. “Jo, you knew what’d happen when you came out to play with her-” “Doesn’t mean I enjoy it!” She laughed along with him then as she wiped her hand off on her jeans and lent back into his arms, her clean hand not used for throwing covering the both of his where they were pressed over her stomach as they watched the fluffy dog root about under the bushes in the back corner for the bright green ball. She didn’t need to look to know he had the same smile on his face as hers.

Jo smiled to herself as he twisted under her, a hand pinning his wrists to his sides gently, the whispered remark to stay still more keeping them down than any force of her own as she released them and moved to unbutton his shirt, his hands not moving one inch once they were free. “You know what this is, hun.” “Yes, yes I know what.” “On the headboard this time though.” That got a groan in response as his hands moved to grip the top of the headboard tightly as she moved her way along his body. The lack of marks and scars she knew but replaced with taunt, clear skin was almost unfair but Jo smirked as she made her own marks wherever caught her attention as she made her way down his chest and stomach. At a gentle brush of lips to his sharp hip bone, Jo let out a laugh at the ticklish response, eyes crinkling as she caught his look of frustration. “Oh fuck, you’re never going to stop now are you?” “Now that you’re ticklish? Never.” Sucking sharply on the spot again, Jo trailed across the jut of it before getting back to her real mission for the night with a smirk.

She’d complained for the last three days about a sore muscle in her back that wasn’t leaving and wasn’t surprised he’d decided to take it upon himself to resolve the issue. “C’mon I don’t like them, they’re boring.” “Jo, a good soaking is what it needs though-” “But it’s boring sitting in there alone.” There was a heavy sigh from him, and the bemused look on his face made her grin cheekily as he tugged her closer. Slipping his fingers under the hem of her shirt and pulling upwards, Grey smiled before saying, “Fine, I’ll sit in here and we’ll talk okay?” “You goin’ to sit in with me?” That got a growl in response and then a sharp shake of his head, rubbing his hand carefully over the sore muscle in question. “No, cause then we’d just hurt it more wouldn’t we? Instead, I’ll sit down next to you and we’ll talk about when we’re going to go see the next Star Wars movie, alright?” Jo had nodded in agreement, smiling as she sank into the water a minute later and noticed the faint smell of her favourite vanilla shampoo and bath wash already in the water.

“Shh, pretty one, just stay relaxed, okay?” “Mmkay.” His voice was so rough and sent shock-waves through her the same as the previous one had, goosepimples breaking out along her skin waking her up slowly as the sun was only just breaking through the edge of the curtains. “Good, you deserve to relax and enjoy your beauty rest. My beautiful, pretty Jo.” She made a quiet, tired sounding groan in response as she relaxed back into the pillow nest she had made at some point during the night, eyes shutting and his warm hands rubbing over her skin lulling her back towards sleep. Next minute, Jo knew she would not be falling back to sleep as his tongue flicked across her and she writhed under his hands and mouth. There was a sound of birds waking up outside but inside all there was were her gasps and the dark, dangerous sound of his laughter as he worked her awake for the day.

“I’ve got the popcorn!” Jo called out loudly as she balanced the large bowl precariously on top of the two soda cans and made her way carefully back towards the lounge. “Fuck! Did you get a big enough bowl there, Jo?” Grey asked, laughing a little as she could feel his eyes on her as she shimmied her way carefully and blindly around the couch towards the coffee table. He grabbed the bowl off the top of the cans with another laugh before setting it down and tugging her towards the couch. “Well, you know how much I love popcorn with a popcorn flick!” “True, you do love your movie snacks and this one is what… three hours long?” Jo nodded her head, sinking into his lap and cuddling up against him between the arm rest and his firm body. “Yep. I didn’t get to see it yet either-” “Well good we both don’t know how they fix the snap then. Now, you comfortable?” She smiled, tucking her head into his neck with a soft sigh as they settled in for the movie, a rush of contentment flooding her at being home again finally.

–

Day -1

“Alrighty, so from my calculation he should be here in the next thirty minutes or so.” Jo said, huffing quietly from the log she was sitting on, eyes fixated on the open field she’d been waiting at almost four months earlier. The whites around her irises were all that was visible again, her charcoal and mud smeared face and hair almost as dark as the shadow-covered trees and bushes surrounding her. “And then from here it’s about a three hour hike northward.”

“And then we can go home instead of continuing on your foolish, stupid plans, right?” The words were hissed, forced above a whispered volume level in a way that none of the other shadows despite years around her had quite achieved in the natural form yet, from the grey-colored shadow of a man’s shape sitting beside her.

There were some hisses from around them, a general buzz of her shadow troupe communicating in the language she had never quite learnt. Some seemed to be in agreement with the shadow beside her; while others appeared to snip in close near him, hissing angrily and snapping jaws of the shapes they were pulled into at that point. Jo watched as Grey jerked slightly in his position away from the more aggressive young shadows who then began swirling around her end of the log with supportive calls.

“Ignore big brother, sister-” “Yes, yes, yes, ignore him. He is just angry you are so smart.” “Grey is just impatient to go home! Earth is so wonderful, isn’t it sister? I wish I could go!”

“Fucking Purgatory, Jo, can you stop corrupting my siblings against me?” The words would have sounded like a snarl if she didn’t know better to hear the slight sound of amusement underneath it all. While Grey had been snappy, snippy and sometimes downright mean as they’d waited the arrival of the other in the months since he’d arrived back - as the days had grown closer and closer to their leaving date, he had gotten less sharp and nasty and had started teasing her more again.

“Sorry hun, Shelda and Ellis just prefer me over you, clearly!”

There was a werewolf, three vampires and two shifters that appeared to come through the dumping ground before there was suddenly a black shadow spat out onto the ground in the centre of the clearing. Jo bit down a smile behind her cloth bandanna as she stood up and made her way into the clearing to a strong sense of deja vu.

“So, how were those violent delights?” Jo called loudly as she broke through the dark woods gloom and out into the clearing into the bright not quite sunlight. She didn’t hide the smile this time at the way the shadow seemed to jerk about in surprise and snarled loudly towards her until she pulled the bandanna down to her throat. “Pretty violent end that was, wasn’t it?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“She’s here to save our asses, dickhead.” The grey shadow beat her to responding, and Jo found herself smiling as she noticed the shape of a snake slithering through the dried grass beside her while the other appeared to swing it’s attention between her and the form by her feet. “Now, say thank you Jo, and we can get on our way back out of this forsaken place.”

“Here to… why are you still here though? You’ve been dead for months, runt, why is she still here?” “To save you too, dick. For no clear reason but stupid human sentimentality. Now… say thank you.”

Jo shook her head as she stepped forward, pulling the bandanna back up over her mouth and cheeks as a rugaru was spat out six feet from them and seemed to stare her over hungrily. “Sic ‘em.” She hissed out the words as the female rugaru appeared to lurch towards her, before the creature was swarmed by five small black shadows, feasting and draining it dry before it had made more than two steps towards her.

Smiling under the cover of the black fabric, Jo looked back where the grey snake and what now looked to be an equally grey elongated and terrifying humanoid shape appeared to be facing off. The size differences might have seemed heavily lent towards one over the other, but the blonde found herself merely shaking her head and stalking off northward through the middle of them well aware that sizes and looks could be deceiving. “I don’t need any thanks, let’s just get going towards the exit before anything else comes through, aye?”

She didn’t bother to look behind her, but by the time she was breaking through the dense undergrowth of the other side of the clearing’s edge, she could hear both voices snipping and snarling at one another as they began the trek towards the exit. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the hulking form to her right as well as the dense black shadowy movement she recognised as her swarm under foot, while to her left was the typically human shape Grey had usually taken for her comfort since they’d been reunited.

It would be a long walk, but Jo had been prepared for decades for this journey and knew she’d spend the entire walk ignoring the nasty battle of wills happening behind her back while she spent the trip mumbling the spell requirements and words under her breath. They had the one shot left at this, and Jo would not be the one to cause a failure now.

–

Day 531

There was some kind ruckus upstairs from the thudding noises happening. Jo’d been able to tell when Sam and Dean were around as they tended to park near where the air vent was so she could hear the roar of the engine, but she hadn’t heard that this morning. Whoever it was, it might be someone who didn’t know about her and her situation, so instead of moving to investigate since Bobby had begun leaving the door open more and more and encouraging her to get out and move about the house more freely than before, Jo laid back down on her cot with a battered copy of Pride & Prejudice she’d found in some cupboard upstairs.

Lizzie had just derided Mr. Darcy for asking for her hand in such a deplorable mode of declaration when the door to the basement was flung open with a loud crash and Jo jerked upright, staring out the door of her room as she tried to see who was making such a fuss.

The next second, her book was dropped onto her bed and her feet were driving her down the stretch to the foot of the stairs before her mind had even caught up with her eyes as to who it was standing at the bottom looking about curiously.

She hit into him hard, her feet not having caught the message to slow down on the approach just barrelling forward as quickly as possible in case someone tried to take her away again and this was all the time she would get. Jo heard a small grunt of pain from the other as she practically bounced off of him, kept grounded against him only by her arms around his waist and then his own wrapping around her back and pressing her close. Jo found herself sniffing loudly as she burrowed against his chest. He smelt like home.

“Hey you.” She felt herself shuddering as he spoke into her hair, his fingers wrapping through the tail ends of her rats nest of hair gently, as if trying to de-tangle what she was sure was going to take another two weeks of continuous work to get back to her normal style, just as it had when they’d gotten home before. Getting home.

Jo knew she’d had water recently, she’d just been having a sip while she’d been reading after all, but suddenly her throat felt drier than it had in ages and she felt herself struggling with what to say other than to bury deeper into him, her cheek pressed tightly to the soft fabric of his tshirt and hands digging into his back tightly. “Grey... Are... Are you okay?”

“Of course, of course I’m okay.” He murmured the words into her ear gently, and Jo could feel him rubbing over her back for a moment before they tangled to either side of her face. “I’m all good again, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

Grey’s eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at her, and he lent forward, his forehead pressed against hers and Jo practically sagged into him as his eyes stared into hers reassuringly. His thumbs moved to stroke across her cheeks, the gentle brush making her shudder and smile gently as they brushed away the first few tears she didn’t even realise had fallen. And then he kissed her and everything felt right for her again. His lips, his hands, his scent... it all felt like she was finally home again.

---

#AU stories #jopov #purgverse

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paganinpurple · 5 years

Text

Clowder - Ch 6

Buy Me A Coffee?

It Was You (comes before this fic)

Read on AO3 or FF.net <<Ch 1 <Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7>

Early Morning Conversations

Adrien awoke that morning to his name being called as someone shook him gently. “Huh?” he mumbled as his eyes opened, searching around until they landed upon the figure of Sabine reaching over to stir him. Instinctively he panicked for a moment at being found unmasked until his memories caught up to his sleep-deprived brain and he relaxed back against the mattress again.

She smiled sweetly, keeping her voice low to avoid waking her daughter as well as the tired boy currently yawning. “It’s 6am dear; you should get back home before someone comes looking for you.” She leaned back once she could see that he was awake, and he let out another loud yawn as he tried desperately to keep from dozing off again. “Try not to wake Marinette up when you untangle her,” Sabine said, “She’ll only get grumpy with you.”

He glanced round to see what she meant to find Marinette wrapped around him, her hands clenched together beneath his arms but over his chest, and one leg slung across his hip beneath the covers. His heart warmed. As much as he liked to cuddle into Marinette while they slept, he absolutely adored being the little spoon as she clung to his back like a fleshy jetpack.

“How did you know I was here?” Adrien whispered as he carefully tried to disengage his girlfriend from himself.

Sabine reached her arm out towards the bed, two sleeping kwamis nestled in her cupped hand. “I found them like this in the kitchen. I’m assuming this is Plagg?”

He watched her place them delicately on the bedside table, Tikki rousing as she did so and peeking open one eye at them. “Yeah,” Adrien said, “he’s my kwami, like Tikki is Marinette’s.”

“Tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to say hello, but I need to get back to the bakery and open up,” Sabine told him with a wave, before finally disappearing down the ladder.

He waited until he heard the trapdoor to the room close behind her before he completely extracted himself from Marinette, very self-consciously aware that he was clad in only his boxer shorts. He dressed much quicker than he had ever managed before, and it was as he was reaching down to tie his shoe laces that he felt petite arms snake their way around his waist.

“Stay,” came a sluggish voice from his lower back where he could feel a cheek pressing against the thin material of his t-shirt.

He chuckled and removed her hands, turning to help her lie back on the bed again as she began to slump in place. “I can’t,” he said, placing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Father would freak out and call the entire police force if he realised that I’ve been gone all night.” She grumbled slightly in response and he laughed again. “I wish I could though. See you at school ‘Nette.”

Scooping up Plagg from where he was yawning next to a giggling Tikki, he made his way up to her balcony before transforming and darting home.

***

He made it back in record time, quickly stripping off his old clothes like they were diseased and pulling on fresh ones as soon as his transformation dropped. Plagg remained oddly quiet as he opted not to complain about having his sleep disturbed, in favour of immediately curling up and dozing on the pillow instead.

Just as Adrien had finished scooping him into his pocket, his door opened, and Nathalie walked in without so much as a knock.

“Nathalie!” he yelped, grateful she hadn’t caught him sneaking back in full costume, “I could have been changing!”

He watched as she let out a deep breath and placed a hand against her chest for a moment before returning to her usual icy demeanour. “I see you’re home.”

He gulped. Ohshitohshitohshit, he thought.

“Adrien, it’s one thing for me to keep it to myself that you go out without permission in the evenings - and all day some weekends,” she began, her face a mask of indifference, “but when you’re gone during the night like this, anything could happen, and it could be considered neglectful of me not to mention it to your father.”

Dread settled in Adrien’s chest like a sliver of ice stabbing him in the heart. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” he begged, eyes wide and panicked.

Nathalie simply stared at him for a moment, coolly. “No,” she finally said, “but no more all-night adventures. You’re back by midnight from now on. And-” -she lifted her chin at him with an air of authority- “you tell your father you have a girlfriend. I’m assuming it’s a girl you’re dating.”

“What!?” He saw no future where his father finding out he was dating Marinette would go well. It was part of the reason that they’d decided just the other night that they probably shouldn’t hang out at his house too much; they couldn’t let anyone realise she had been in his room before. “I mean, yes she’s a girl, but Nathalie, I can’t-”

“This morning is perfect timing. I’m about to present him with some good news and I’ve been planting some seeds for a while now that the press might find it odd that you haven’t shown any interest in anyone your own age.”

Adrien crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. “I’m fifteen,” he said with annoyance evident in his tone, “not everyone dates at fifteen.”

“True,” she said, “but whether or not the press will care is beside the point. Only that your father thinks they do.”

Grinning widely, Adrien relaxed slightly, his gaze grateful. “Nathalie, you’re a genius.”

“Perhaps,” she said, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of her mouth, “Now, are you two at least using the protection I left in your bathroom?”

“Nathalie!”

***

It was seven o’clock when Adrien entered the dining room for breakfast. He carefully disguised his surprise upon seeing his father sitting at the table waiting for him, Nathalie standing next to him, waiting for a response of some kind. Taking his usual seat, he began to eat slowly, watching from the corner of his eye for any sign that they had noticed his presence yet.

Gabriel appeared far too wrapped up in reading something on the tablet in his left hand, moving his food around with his fork in the right but never quite allowing anything he lifted to reach his mouth. The smile that appeared on his face began so subtly that Adrien barely noticed it, but soon it transformed his entire face. It wasn’t exactly a warm smile -more of a sneer- but it still showed that whatever he was reading had pleased him greatly.

He turned to Nathalie who was still standing next to him, her hands clasped politely in front of her. “Are there any other articles like this?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she answered, “so far it’s exclusive to this publication but I’m sure everyone will have it online within the hour.”

“Excellent,” he said, handing her the tablet and returning to his food, beginning to eat with a gusto Adrien hadn’t seen in his father since his mother had disappeared. He looked up at Nathalie in shock and noticed she was smiling as well, although she was looking directly at him instead of his father while she did so. She inclined her head towards Gabriel the tiniest amount and her eyes flashed; something he took to be his hint that now was the time to bring up the topic of his girlfriend. It was clear whatever she had shown him had lifted his mood much higher than his usual brand of tolerance. Taking a deep breath, Adrien opened his mouth-

“Oh Adrien,” his father began suddenly, and all the air rushed out of the boy like a deflated balloon, “it has been brought to my attention that you should be…interacting more with girls of the same age bracket as yourself. As this morning has just demonstrated to me, the press can be very unkind regarding a person’s love life -or lack thereof- and I think it’s time you started dating.”

Adrien was thrown completely off guard. He’d considered the lead into this conversation to be difficult and awkward, and yet his father had been the one to bring it up. Pushing down the anxieties in his chest he prepared to speak as soon as he was permitted a chance.

“Therefore, I am going to set up a gala in the next few weeks. All of Paris’ influential elite will be attending, of course, and I am going to encourage them all to bring their children –of around a certain age– to give you an opportunity to meet some of their daughters.”

For the second time that morning Adrien felt a cold spike of fear in his chest and he glanced at Nathalie helplessly. She too, looked surprised and horrified. Unfortunately, she also seemed unsure on how to proceed. His father was still talking about who would be invited and how some of the guests and their daughters would be invited purely for appearances sake, so he was to ensure to memorise who he was not to become involved with and…and Gabriel just kept talking.

Panicked, Adrien was about to interrupt, a sure sign of failure ahead, but he had no idea what he could do otherwise. Before he could seal his own fate, however, Nathalie finally rediscovered her voice and loudly cleared her throat. Gabriel was effectively silenced as she began. “Sir, there is always a chance that Adrien already has a young lady in mind and that it would be counter-productive to arrange an expensive gala if there is someone else who he would rather attend it with.”

Gabriel looked up at her in momentary disbelief before a look of understanding passed across his features. Slowly, he turned to face his son. “Adrien,” he said, his expression undecipherable, “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

***

A dark head appeared over the covers, face scrunched up as she patted around blindly for the phone that continued to ring and buzz disturbing her rest. Finally finding the wretched thing, she squinted at the screen. And groaned.

“Alya,” she said once she had slid her thumb across the screen to answer and jammed the receiver to her ear, “It’s not even eight yet. I could’ve had another fifteen minutes in bed.”

“Sorry, but this is important,” Alya said hurriedly from her end, “I take it you haven’t seen the news yet?”

She frowned into her pillow, why would she care about the news right now? Her superhero brain seemed to catch up to her sleepy brain and she shot upright in bed. “Is it an akuma?” she asked abruptly.

“No, no nothing like that. But it does involve Chat. And…” There was an awkward pause on the other end. “And you I guess.”

Buy Me A Coffee?

#PIP writes #miraculous ladybug #ML fic #Clowder #Love Square #It Was You Sequel

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