#but another cool thing is that IF i am head ringer for those three weeks then i'll also get paid which is..... pretty neat and new for me

[pumpking64]

oh shit oh fuck oh god oh my the responsibility that i had thought had passed onto someone else is actually still going to be mine possibly likely

#own post #im gonna be head ringer maybe??!!? i thought someone else was but apparently not #so im gonna be responsible for teaching two new ones the important parts of bird ringing and i will be the most experienced one #I THOUGHT I WAS A NEW ONE TOO. I THOUGHT ID BE ABLE TO RELAX #AHHHH #i mean it's super cool but i am NOT PREPARED EMOTIONALLY? #and yes obviously it's legally fine and also theoretically because i'm good enough i know that objectively but oh GOD #like don't worry this is all how it's supposed to be and nothing shady is going on i'm just an anxious person with unexpected responsibilty #aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhHHHHhhHHHHH #but another cool thing is that IF i am head ringer for those three weeks then i'll also get paid which is..... pretty neat and new for me

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

#bnha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere x reader #yandere present mic #yandere aizawa

[justasparkwritings]

Merry & Bright {12}: All the Love and Joy

Previous: If Only in My Dreams 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing! Kissing!

Summary: Jungkook spends his first Christmas with you and your family. 

          Jungkook stood nervously fidgeting with his fingers. His suitcase next to him, a sleek hardcovered black bag, sturdy enough for world tours, waiting patiently to be opened in the hotel. You close by phone to your ear, telling your mom what door you and Jungkook were waiting at. Glancing at him, you smiled softly, his tongue poking from between his lips. His beanie was low, hands covered by his long sleeves to hide any of his tattoos from being seen. People might not recognize his doe eyes, but surely his BTS tattoos would give him away. He watched you carefully, how you stood, how your face contracted and smiled as you chattered on, coat draped over your forearm. He watched as you tucked your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth searching for loose and dead skin to nibble off.

           “We should go outside,” You suggested, double checking the ringer on your phone was nice and loud before turning to him.

           “Aren’t you going to put your coat on?” He asked following you out the nearest baggage claim door.

           “I’m so hot, this happens every year,” You stifled a yawn. You hadn’t slept much in the three days leading to your flight to your aunt’s house. It was a combination of excitement, sex, and sharing every detail of the last two months with Jungkook, who had been holed up in Korea working incessantly. He’d finally finished, with no commitments until New Years, allowing you nearly a week of time together. You were giddy, enthused, excited beyond belief. Jungkook had never spent Christmas with you and your family, and this year, being the year your sister and her husband were joining, was the perfect opportunity to acquaint the extended family with your Idol.

           “What if they don’t like me?” He had whispered, breath even, bare chest holding you to him.

           “That’s nonsense, they’ll like you,” You reassured him.

           “What if they don’t understand me?” He asked again.

           “Your English is amazing, and my brother-in-law speaks English as a second language, so it’ll be fine,” You tried to comfort him.

           “But I’ve only really been practice-

           “Kookie, nothing I say is going to make you worry less, so can we just, acknowledge we’re both nervous? And accept that maybe this will go really well, but it also might tank completely?” You suggested, lips pressing lightly against his pecks.

           “I, yeah, you’re right,” He sighed, your touch soothing him.

           “Mm, what am I right about?” You asked, lips moving hastily up his neck.

           “My wheels are spinning,” He whispered, a soft moan flowing freely after his words.

           “That’s the Virgo in you,” You smiled.

           “And in you,” He replied.

           “It’ll be fun, and if you don’t understand something, just ask,” You said, lips now moving down his jaw towards his lips.

           “Will people recognize me?” His question stopped you dead in your tracks. You pulled away, eyes staring at his serene expression.

           “Probably? Maybe? But we don’t have to go out much. We do have to go to church, so maybe don’t sing like an angel and we’ll be good,” You tried to add levity to the situation. You didn’t know what would happen if someone screamed JUNGKOOK in a mall or tweeted his picture… You didn’t know.

           “I love you,” He whispered, head tilting to capture your lips.

           “And I you,” You said rolling on top of him.

           Now, waving at your approaching uncle, Jungkook felt similarly to when he had to do press, no not the boredom that came from endless questions about meaningless topics which largely went to Namjoon, but anxious. Realistically, he knew that you getting along with the six members of BTS and his family was a far more challenging feat than him acclimating to your midwestern family. Rationally, he knew you would still love him and want a future with him if this week didn’t go well. Emotionally, he was scared shitless that your opinion of him would change. Sensing the slight change in his disposition, you walked up to him and carefully placed a kiss on his porcelain cheek.  

           “Hey, you and me,” You felt his shoulders drop at the gesture, and you smiled warmly.

           “You’re here!” Your uncle called, stepping out of the minivan and walking to hug you.

           “Uncle, this is Jungkook, Jungkook, this is my uncle!” You introduced, moving quickly to hug your mom who had accompanied him. Your uncle, and the rest of your family (bless them), had been practicing saying Jungkook for the last two months.

           “You can call me Jungkook, or JK,” Jungkook smiled, his full bunny teeth on display and your heart doubled in size. He moved to greet your mother, whom he had met and spent copious amounts of time with. He was happy to have another familiar face, soon to be joined by your sister and her husband. Their familiar faces brought him comfort and attempted to lessen the nerves.

           Sitting in the back of the van, Jungkook continued to fidget with his hands until you absentmindedly reached across the aisle, taking his non tattooed hand in yours. You gave it a gentle squeeze, and he relaxed, your touch always a source of comfort.

           Your uncle prattled on about the neighborhoods and geography of the state. He asked little questions of Jungkook, which gave Jungkook a minute to adjust to the cadence of his voice, the way he cracked his neck as he drove, his desire to sip soda from a beaten up Hydro Flask. Jungkook enjoyed the snort of his laugh, and found comfort in the slight smell of tobacco from the pipe your uncle smoked.

           It wasn’t long before your uncle was pulling up to the house, a house you had lived in during your childhood, a house which held your greatest treasures. Hopping out, you took stock of the cookies sitting on top of an additional storage chest, keeping cool in the freezing temperatures. Jungkook immediately moved to get the bags and help your uncle carry them in. He lost you momentarily as you disappeared in the house, hugging your aunts.

           “Y/N, I’ve watched videos on Youtube, he’s very talented,” One your aunts said.

           “He���s very hot,” Your other said giving you a knowing look. You laughed. In the two years you’d been dating, you’d heard similar comments from them, but they never expected to be meeting Jungkook. “He’s very well respected and highly regarded. He’s won so many awards.”

           “All of those things are true,” You said kicking off your boots and hanging your coat in the closet.

           “Just set them by the stairs,” Your uncle said, pointing Jungkook towards the staircase. He found you waiting, a smile on your lips as you breathed in the air of your second favorite place.

           “It smells like Christmas,” You said, opening your eyes to take in the sight of JK. He’d opted for a matching sweat suit, which looked delectable on his muscular frame. “Hug me,” You said, arms extending. Jungkook greedily pulled you to him, cheek resting on the crown of your head.

           “You’re so short,” He chuckled.

           “You’re abnormally tall, I’m average, thank you,”

           “Like Yoongi-hyung,”

           “Mm, one of many things Yoongi and I have in common,” You said, smiling against Jungkook’s chest. “come on, you have to formally meet my aunts.”

           Pulling Jungkook from the small entryway towards your aunts in the kitchen, Jungkook took in as much as he could. It was exactly as you described it. Holiday decorations older than both of you, a stunning tree dripping in red and gold, snacks and treats on every table, each placed in festive bowls or plates, and a back wall of windows, opening on the expanse of snow behind the house.

           Your aunts were mid conversation, discussing what else they needed to get at the grocery store. They looked up to see you and Jungkook, your arm around his waist, a blush already on his cheeks. His hand tattoos were uncovered, and he was unsure how your family would react to his bodily decorations.

           “Aunties, this Jungkook, Jungkook, these are my aunts,” You said, the hand around his waist squeezing him lightly. Out of habit, he bowed, and out of habit, your aunts pulled him into a hug, introducing themselves.

           “Your very tall,” Your aunt said, eyeing him up and down.

           “Uh, yes,” He couldn’t stop blushing.

           “What are these tattoos? I’ve seen pictures, can you explain them?” Your other aunt asked.

           “Of course,” Jungkook said, a shy smile playing on his lips.

           They sat at the kitchen table, his right hand laid out flat, delicately pointing to each one, allowing your aunts to ask questions and run their fingers over the ink. You sat beside him, head rested on his shoulder, arm draped around his waist. Your family had always hoped you’d find a partner, someone that looked at you and understood you for the multitudes you contain. In Jungkook, through him explaining his tattoos and being a willing participant in your holiday traditions, your family could see the love and adoration that flowed freely from you.

           Jungkook, hand splayed on the table, his love attached to his side, finally relaxed, realizing that Christmas, here with you and all your family, was all the love and joy he could ever want.

Next: I Sincerely Tried 

#Jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #BTS #BTS fanfic #BTS fan fic #BTS drabbles #Jungkook drabbles #christmas #merryandbright2020 #merry and bright #25 days of christmas #christmas writing challenge #family #holidays #established relationship #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet

[yankyo]

Message Recieved- Part 2

Part two of the fuckboi Beej idea that @beetlejuicebeadoll thought of!

Warnings: mention of hypnosis, stalking, general creepy beej, light hints of sexual frustration

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

Ding.... Ding.... Ding.... Ding

       You refused to look up, what was the point? You already knew which jackass it was that was spamming you this late at night. The only douchebag who never went on silent, no matter how many times you tried turning off the ringer. 

Ding... Ding... Ding... Ding... DingDingDingDing

With a few choice expletives snarled under your breath, you snatched up your phone, "Can you shut the fuck up already? I'm reading it!" You snapped to the empty air, hoping the bastard was close enough to hear you. Fuck, you barely had to hope, he never seemed to stray far now. You scanned the texts, your irritation growing with each word. 

🐞🥤: hey, hey babes 

🐞🥤: I'm booored 

🐞🥤: at least put on some TV or somethinggg 

🐞🥤: babes, stop ignoring meeeee 

🐞🥤: I'm dying heeeere 

🐞🥤: figuratively lol 

🐞🥤: hey, whatever happened to the sexy shorts?? 

🐞🥤: can we bring those back?? I miss them 

🐞🥤: babes, are u still ignoring me?? 

🐞🥤: baaabes 

"Don't you have something better to do with your life?" You snarled, glaring at the empty air. 

🐞🥤: not living, babes. 

"You fucking know what I mean, you dickbag!" 

🐞🥤: ooh keep talking dirty babes 

       You threw the phone this time, an almost too common occurrence ever since this creep decided to situate himself in his life. The fact that any of this could be common was crazy, but apparently humans could get used to anything and in the past few weeks of being haunted, you found that you were more irritated by the pervy spirit currently possessing your phone than actually scared. After all, all he could really do here was annoy you through the phone, he couldn't affect anything else or really cause trouble without you saying his name three times and since that wasn't happening anytime soon, the both of you were more or less stuck with one another. At least until you could figure out a way to get him out of your phone. 

       Ding, ding, ding the sound of your phone made you sigh, but you turned on the tv and just tried to ignore it now. Beetlejuice loved getting under your skin, constantly flirting and joking around, just trying to either make you blush or piss you off - usually succeeding with both. Every day ended with him begging you to say his name to no avail, and then every night he would torment you with stupid dreams. That was the worst part of it all. Every single time you tried to go to sleep, you saw him, could feel his rough hands pinning you down, felt his lips painting a sweltering path along your skin as he growled his devotion to you. You dreamt of those sharp teeth of his gleaming in the light, hovering just above your neck as a cocky smirk spread across his face, you had woken up begging for him to bite you, thankfully you hadn't said his name, but it was getting just far too close these past few nights. And the worst part was that no matter how desperately needy you woke up, you couldn't do anything but take a cold shower and try and not think about the promises he had hissed in your ear in your dreams while the fucking bastard acted like he had done nothing wrong. It was frustrating and even when you tried to ask him, he would just get all the more cocky with you and ask you all sorts of questions about your dreams as if he wasn't the one causing it. Prick. Well, you weren't going to just give him a free show - and besides, the idea of him just watching you was.... ding, ding, ding. God. Fucking. Dammit. 

🐞🥤: u know, babes 

🐞🥤: u've been looking awfully tense lately 

🐞🥤: I could help out u no.

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you didn't dignify that with a response. 

🐞🥤: nothing pervy ya know, a little massage

🐞🥤: I'm real good w/ my hands u know

🐞🥤: just an offer

Having his hands on you was the last thing you needed right now! Implications of what freeing him would actually do aside, if he was this distracting just living in your phone, you shuddered to think of the mischief he could get into if he was free. 

       "I'd be a lot less tense if you moved out of my phone and found someone else to fuck with." You deadpanned. 

🐞🥤: 😢 hurtful, babes 

🐞🥤: I LIKE being here with you tho

🐞🥤: ur pretty and cool and all, sides 

🐞🥤: u summoned me, can't leave til my name is called and all that 

How the hell that worked, you had absolutely no clue. You did know that swiping right on tinder did not equal a summoning, but then again, what did you know about summoning a ghost demon fuckboi? "Got anything else?" Why you asked, you didn't know. The smart thing would have been to just leave the phone there and go to bed, hope that you could get through the night without any more frustration, but the thought of going back to those dreams and not having an outlet for them.... yeah, not how you wanted to spend another night. 

🐞🥤: hmm 

🐞🥤: I've got one trick, but I dunno if U'll be up 4 it. 

You should back out now. You should just step away and find something better to do with your time. "What's that?" 

🐞🥤: Texting isn't all I can do. 

For a moment, you were confused, you knew he could somehow send pictures. They were blurry as all hell, but got the point across. And the thought of asking him if he meant what you thought he did was enough to make you want to self combust right then and there. 

🐞🥤: .... my voice is weird tho 

Oh. Oh. How did that work? "You can call me?" You pressed, curious now. Silence. The screen went black and a mass of unintelligible letters popped up as a distorted ringtone echoed through the apartment. Now would be a great time to collect your brain cell and run. Maybe to a church or something, stop being the main white lead in every horror film and perhaps not be possessed by a being you barely knew anything about - why were you answering the phone? 

       Static rippled through the speaker, the person on the other line drew in a trembling breath. 

       "Hey babes." His voice was low, gravelly, it sent a tingle down your spine. 

       "H...hey..." what were you even supposed to talk about now? "Your voice isn't weird." Perhaps it was the nerves, perhaps your own awkwardness, but thankfully Beetlejuice laughed, a soft, deep chuckle that somehow made you join in as well until the sound turned cold, intimidating, almost threatening. 

       "Just wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet." The desire to drop the phone and run was back, but you were glued in place. "Breathe, babes. Can't have you passing out on me yet." You exhaled a shaky breath you hadn't noticed you were holding in. "Good. Relax now, I ain't gonna do anything scary." Almost against your will, tense muscles relaxed and you leaned back against the couch, eyes falling shut. You hadn't lied, his voice wasn't weird, it was nice, almost too nice. Though he never raised his tone above a husky purr,  it filled you, his voice was your entire world. "Better. Now, what's got you so tense, huh, doll?" 

       "You do." The response was automatic, you couldn't have stopped yourself if you tried. 

       "Just me? Come on, that can't be it. You were tense when I got here." He was right, you couldn't blame all of your frustrations on him, there had been a reason you had been scrolling through tinder from the beginning, after all. 

       "I...." 

       "You can be honest with me, you know. You're lonely, just like me, aren't you?" The words were settling in your bones, dragging out those thoughts you had been pushing down. 

       "Yes." A breath, a relieved exhale that made your heart twist violently in your chest. 

       "Isn't it better to be truthful with yourself?" You found yourself nodding in response. "You can depend on me, I won't let you be lonely anymore.  You don't even have to say my name, just don't chase me away, let me stay by your side just like this." Just like this? How was this satisfying for him? Bound within your phone, invisible and formless, only able to reach out from within a screen - it had to be torture. 

       "Why me?" The question shocked both of you and the spell that had settled over you shattered. "How is this good?" You pressed forwards, and for once, you had rendered Beetlejuice silent. "Why didn't you just force me to say your name or something? Don't you want to be free?" 

       "I..." it was his turn to flounder.

       "Better yet, why stay here? Why waste your time on me at all? I'm not giving you what you want so why don't you just leave?" 

       "I just... I..." 

       "You don't know anything about me anyways, Beetlejuice, I'm not that treat of a person, why cling to me like this?" 

       "I DO KNOW YOU!" His purr had become a wail and even as your phone slipped from your fingers, his voice came through the speaker clear as ever. "I know you." He repeated, insistent. "I know how you speak to yourself when you're alone, how you laugh at your own jokes and console yourself when you're sad. I know how you like to fall asleep watching old crime shows, but will get so scared that you wrap yourself up in your blanket and walk circles around your home to make sure everything is safe. I know that you meet people just to shy away the second they try to get close. I know how your face brightens when you laugh and how your eyes dim when you're sad. I know you hate crying, so you cry in the shower so there'll be no evidence left behind." You were backing away from the phone now, how could he know all of that? He's only been here for a week, right? Your phone was shaking now, the screen sparking with green and blue and red. "I know you because I watched you. Because I love you. Do you know how long I've waited just to be able to talk to you like this? So you would know who I am?" He watched you? He called your name, the sound sharp, imploring. "I just want to be a part of your life. I don't want to be invisible anymore!" Scared wasn't an accurate enough word for how you were feeling in that moment. You felt as if you would be sick. You had to get away from here. Away from him. "W-wait!" As you stepped back, he called for you, as if he could sense what you were doing. "Don't leave me, please. I'll be quiet! I'll stop being so annoying! Babes!" 

       "Stop calling me that!" The scream echoed through the apartment and Beetlejuice fell silent, your phone screen turning a darker purple before it finally turned black - but you were already turning on your heel and running from the apartment.  

#beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice x reader #f0ckboibeej

[missnmikaelson-main]

The Forgotten - Chapter 16

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15

Well… it’s been a crazy few weeks y'all, but I finally got the newest chapter done. YAY! :D

I also discovered this new app that I love because I like to handwrite my chapters first (there’s just something about the feel of pen and paper that gets the creativity flowing {at least for me}) and the app lets me take a picture of the page and it converts the pen to typing. It saved me four hours in the typing and editing of this chapter.

1919

“You’re absolutely sure you don’t mind?” She fidgeted with her hat and shifted on her toes, setting the simple white skirt to swaying around her legs. Cool air swirled around her exposed ankles.

“Do I mind watching our little heathen?” She ruffled the boy’s neat hair. “He is an absolute nightmare, and I am certain we shall have a horrid time.”

“I’m not a heathen,” he stomped his foot, indignation made adorable by his lisp.

“I was only joking, my darling,” she patted his cheek and bit back her laugh.

Confusion flooded his eyes.

“It’s like when I tell you to cause endless mischief for your auntie, but I really mean…” she knelt at his eye level, smoothing his sandy hair back in place.

“Be good?” Large blue eyes blinked at her.

“Precisely,” she nodded. Some days she struggled to believe he was already six years old. She had never believed her mother, but it was true that time flew by; in the blink of an eye he had grown from a baby to a boy.

“So when I say you’re a heathen, I really mean you’re a little angel.”

He giggled when she tweaked his nose. His eyes snapped back to his mother.

“I will be back after you have gone to sleep; I expect this new warlock to be a long time in his presentation.”

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know, baby, but I am going to find out,” she smiled, “and in the mean time I want you to behave while I am gone.”

“Does that mean misbehave?” He grinned.

“Tonight I mean exactly as I say,” she laughed. “Now hold still, mister, so I can kiss you goodnight,” her eyes sparkled. Leaning forward she planted a soft kiss on his cheek and smiled as he turned his head to return the action. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She gave him one last kiss on the tip of is nose and rose to her feet.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she pulled on her jacket.

“Do not rush. It’s important to remain a breast of witch affairs, and who knows, perhaps this newcomer will prove the distraction you’ve been waiting for and off you the opportunity to truly search the compound.”

“It’s the only reason I am attending,” she took a deep breath. It did nothing for the nerves vibrating in her belly. She paused with her hand on the door.

“Elena?”

She turned back to watch the blonde.

“Don’t forget your glamour.”

“Right,” she nodded, catching her reflection in the mirror. Ancient Latin slipped from her lips and before her eyes she watched as her appearance altered.

“You look the same to me,” he crossed his arms.

“That’s because you have this,” she bent and tapped a golden bracelet on his wrist. She smiled at the band that allowed her son to see her while New Orleans saw Isobel.

++++

Her shoes clicked over the cobblestones in a slightly uneven rhythm that leveled out the further she went until she stepped in time with the drum’s primal beat. Nearly a hundred people had made the journey to the cemetery and she could see them all crowded around a roaring bonfire.

She found a place in the throng and watched a lone witch dance around the flames to the beat of the Congo drums. She twisted, spun and reveled in the shadows flickering over her face.

Elena observed the assembly and was one of the first to notice the man; tall and dressed in a smart suit of ivory, he cut an impressive, impassive figure. His ebony skin glistened in the orange light, but she took little notice of his distinguished features; the albino python around his shoulders captured her gaze.

He clapped, commanding the attention of the crowd; they fell silent and only the crackle of wood filled the cemetery. He handed the snake to two young men that melted from the shadows.

She squinted at the symbol on the brows of the identical twins; the cross surmounted by two oblique lines was like nothing she had ever seen. Of course, she had only been actively practicing magic for five years and her son didn’t leave much time for research.

Her eyes snapped to the man whose voice rang out over the crowd. He possessed an enigmatic voice, and spoke with his hands; he left her with an impression of untold power, and the unknown sent a chill through her.

“Witches of the French Quarter thank you for your welcome; it is good to be among people of the faith,” he smiled a disarming smile. “I, too, practice ancestral magic, honoring those who walked the path before us; from them, we draw strength, and you will need strength, for a great darkness is coming. The city your forefathers left you is now overrun by pirates, beasts and vampires.”

Her heart pounded; at any given moment she straddled a fence – the line between witches and vampire – and she never knew which side she leaned as she failed to fit wholly in either group. She shifted, glancing at her fellow witches, but nobody bothered with her; nobody knew. A gasp broke from her lips when the man took the python and threw it on the fire.

“I practice other magic as well. Sacrificial magic: channeling power from the lives of my offerings. I use this strength to vanquish my enemies, and I will punish your enemies for their greed.” He held out his hands. “In return, you will accept my family into your coven and me as your leader.”

++++

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, smoothing down her sweater sleeves. “Everything okay? What’s the situation with this new warlock?”

Elena worried her bottom lip as she hung up her jacket; her fingers hooked beneath the chain of her locket. “He wants… power… control over the coven, and he promises to smite all enemies of the faith in return.”

“One warlock against the Original family?” Skepticism laced her tone.

“He practices sacrificial magic and draws powers from the offerings.”

“Should we be worried?”

“There aren’t enough animals in the world to grant him that kind of power,” she shook her head. “He’ll prove a distraction, but I don’t think he’s much of a threat. The guy just gives me the creeps.”

2011

A hand on her shoulder roused her from an uneasy slumber. She jerked, sending dozens of pages fluttering to the floor. Kol stirred beside her and managed to catch a few crinkling papers before rubbing a sore spot in his neck.

“What’s going on?” He rolled his neck, blinking to wake up.

“I could have used another hour or two of sleep,” she yawned, rubbing her eyes. AA hard crust dislodged from her tear ducts. Her eyes glanced at the large armchairs where Klaus and Elijah flipped through ancient grimoires.

“I’m sure you desperately need rest,” Rebekah in knelt, cleaning the spells, “but your phone has been buzzing incessantly for the past ten minutes… and there it goes again.”

She dug the phone free and read the missed message from Jeremy. Three missed calls followed the text. Evidently she was needed at home.

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol stifled a yawn.

“Something at home,” she shrugged. “I’ll run and see what’s going on, and be back as soon as I can. Stay away from sharp objects.”

“You realize I am over a thousand years old and I have managed to take reasonable care of myself in that time?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh please,” Rebekah scoffed. “Had you been capable of death you would have achieved it a hundred times over. ”

“It’s a wildly different standard when you’re human,” Elena squeezed his hand and laughed softly, “so stay away from sharp objects, or perhaps I should be saying that to Klaus.”

“You’re not funny, Elena.” Klaus glowered over the pages of his book.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” she stood up. “I’ll be back soon, and hopefully by then there will be a spell to unlink us. I’d love to slap you both, but I don’t want the bruise.”

She shouldered her bag, fixing Klaus and Elijah in place with her eyes. “Stay out of trouble.”

“You’re the one leaving the safety of the mansion,” Elijah flipped the pages.

“I wouldn’t call the prison you’re keeping your mother in safe,” she rolled her eyes. “She’s powerful enough that she could break through the shackles.”

“Why don’t you do what you did to your friend’s mother: Stop her magic by turning her?” Klaus rolled his eyes.

“You’re more than welcome to,” she moved backwards to the door, “but I can’t. If I turn her we’ve got a Tyler situation on our hands.”

Kol watched her go and stood, looking around the room.

“Where’s Finn gotten off to?”

“He said something about looking into mother’s spell.”

On the other side of town, in the shadow of the old witch house, Finn knelt in the cold grass, traced the faded salt runes with his fingertips and swore under his breath.

++++

She plopped down on the couch and watched her friend sip the hot cocoa she had brewed; rich chocolate filled the living room, drifting up to the second floor where Abby slept.

Bonnie’s red rimmed eyes drifted shut for a moment and she took the opportunity to study her drawn features. The weight of the world pressed her shoulders into a slump. She had been through the ringer, and as much as Caroline hated to do it she knew she had to push Bonnie a little further.

It would hurt but there were some things that could not be left to fester.

“How long are you going to freeze Elena, out?”

Those slumped shoulders stiffened, and her eyes snapped up flooding with determination as she set her jaw. “She killed my mom, Caroline.”

“Rebekah killed your mom,” she crossed her legs.

“It was Elena’s plan,” Bonnie gritted her teeth; Stefan had told her that much.

“What else was she supposed to do?”

“She could have talked to me and come up with another way,” her blood simmered.

“She couldn’t have told you anything,” Caroline scoffed. “That bracelet you stole was able to control her. She couldn’t tell you anything.” She leapt to her feet and began motioning with wild hands, “she couldn’t tell you she was linked or that Esther wanted to kill every vampire on the planet and throw the balance of nature into chaos. Her options were anarchy or one new vampire. Yeah, your mom lost her connection to magic and Originals were behind it, but you’re not blameless in this.”

Angry tears sprang up in her wide eyes.

“You took her agency when you handed over that bracelet, and she planned the transition of your mother,” Caroline deflated a bit. “Gah! I know you two love each other, but you make it hard sometimes.”

“How do you know all of this?” Bonnie crossed her arms.

“She told me last night.”

“And you just believed her?” Her brows shot up.

“Yeah, why don’t you?”

“She’s been gone a hundred years,” she shook her head. “I don’t know that I know her anymore.”

Caroline sank down, perching on the coffee table. The sudden weight of her limbs held her in place. In that moment she wished to be anywhere else, so she could sink into herself and sleep, or at the very least shut her mind off for a short time and not have to dwell on the knowledge that she could have died last night, with her luck she was not a part of Kol or Rebekah’s bloodline.

“She’s still Elena, Bon,” she exhaled, closing her eyes. “Her methods have gotten a little more drastic, and her circle has grown a little bigger, but it’s still her, and she’ as terrible a liar as ever, so I know she’s telling the truth.”

Bonnie lowered her eyes to the hot cocoa.

++++

The car rolled to a slow stop along the curb, forcing Elena to slow her speed at the corner. Power coiled in her tense muscles, unfurling with the measured steps that marked her path home; if she were honest the only thing that made the house home anymore was Jeremy and Alaric. She suppressed the humming energy in her veins, but it still flowed out of her to shimmer in the air.

Above her head a finch broke out in trilling song, unhampered by the steady crunch of frozen leaves and the abomination below his lofty perch.

She moved on, rushing up the driveway passed the second car. She paused for a breath and read the sticker proclaiming the vehicle as a rental. She hurried into the house where a familiar scent greeted her.

“Thierry”, a broad smile stretched her face in the kitchen, “what are you doing here?”

“Checking on you,” he stood from the table, half-drunk coffee forgotten in his haste. He wrapped his arms around her back and listened to his heart slow. “What was up with that call last night?” “Can’t a mother call just to say how much she loves her son?” She stretched up on her toes and kisses his cheek. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. “Jer, Ric this is…”“

"We already did the introductions,” Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “Personally, I think I’m a little young to have a ninety-seven year old nephew.”

“You need to consider the extenuating circumstances,” Alaric reached for his coffee.

“Whatever you say grandpa,” he muttered, smirking. Alaric sputtered and thumped his chest, coughing up the drops of hot coffee.

“Mom,” Thierry drew her attention back, “what happened? You sounded tense last night.”

“You caught that, huh?” Elena lowered her eyes, chewing her lips.

“What was going on last night?” Alaric tilted his head. “Aside from the Original witch wanting to kill her children?”

“Had she succeeded she would have killed me as well as every vampire sired by the deceased Originals, no matter how many times removed.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and dropped into an empty chair.

“She was going to kill you?” Jeremy tensed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I couldn’t,” she pulled the bracelet from her pocket. I couldn’t tell anyone.“

"That’s what you were looking for yesterday,” Thierry reclaimed his seat. “I found the notes in your inventory book.”

“Luckily she failed,” Elena nodded, “and now I have a month to try and reverse what she did and come up with a way to keep her from trying again. But I’m fine, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay” he sighed. “So nothing happened last night?”

“Well,” Elena tilted her head, “I wouldn’t say nothing.”

++++

They were arguing again. It was the way of their family when paranoia set in - at least for Klaus. He probably could have spoken his brother’s lines perfectly, would have if not for the persistent throbbing behind his brow and gnawing hunger in his body, but even the thought of food brought a swell of nausea.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Klaus’ shout threatened to break his ear drums.

He echoed Finn’s response, but his strained voice went unnoticed by his siblings. He rubbed his temples, drawing in a burning breath of air that set his lungs on fire; he pressed his lips together to hold in the hacking cough.

“I found the remnants of mother’s spell,” Finn dropped the contents of his hand on the low table.

Burnt herbs scattered over the page, but when he tried to read the hastily copied runes the ink blurred and he was swept away with a sudden spinning sensation.

“Kol?”

The soft call came from far away the second was sharper, closer and spoken in his ear. Something white - hair, maybe - flashed in his vision; blue peered into his eyes.

He blinked, but the room failed to sharpen, opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. Through the scratching, burning pain in his chest he heard a horridly we rattle and he knew with sickening certainty that the sound came from him.

At some point a handkerchief had been forced into his hands, and as the violent hacking reached it’s end he opened his eyes, regaining just enough focus to comprehend the pale pink spray over an ornately embroidered ‘E’.

“That’s not good,” he muttered. The metallic taste of copper lingered on his tongue. He wiped the cloth over his mouth. It came back red.

He raised his eyes to his silent siblings.

“As I was saying,” Finn cleared his throat. “Mother created her spell and left nothing to chance.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Elijah lifted the ancient symbols.

“Mother made him human,” Rebekah shook her head. Her voice was strangely tight.

“It means she wanted us dead, and she insured it would happen. It means…”

“I’m dying,” Kol’s quiet voice held their attention; he could feel the truth of it in his bones. His eyes cut to his sister; a hint of a smirk crossed his lips.

“Still jealous, Bex?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Klaus scoffed, “you’re not dying!”

“Aren’t I?” He arched an eyebrow, ignoring the irony of being called dramatic by Klaus of all people. His gaze cut to Finn for confirmation while his mind wandered to the only witch who would be willing to help him. He had no idea what she could actually do beyond hold his hand though, not that he would have raised an objection.

“How long do I have?” He ran through the possible options and the ingredients and time required for each, anything viable would need the aid of the full moon which had just passed them by.

“Moonrise.”

Kol’s heart stuttered. Swallowing he looked up. “Please tell me my hearing is going and that I missed the word 'full’ before moonrise.”

He was met with a tense silence and a family that would not look at him.

“Bloody hell.”

He stood abruptly and swayed; black spots danced across the sitting room, blotting out the look of concern on Elijah’s face. A chill swept over him, racing down the length of his spine. For one brief moment he wanted to sag into the supportive embrace of his sister; he longed for his mother, not the bitch who had condemned him to what was sure to be a grisly death, but for the loving - albeit hard - mother of his childhood. But it had never been in his nature to appear weak or seek help, not since the day he had received his arm ring.

So, he blinked the spots away, gritted his teeth, shook off Rebekah’s hand and pulled his arm from Finn’s grip.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“You’ve got twelve hours to live,” Rebekah planted her fists on her hips. She yelled after him as he left the room: “that is the opposite of fine!”

“Less then…” Kol’s sharp response cut off, replaced by shattering glass. His siblings exchanged a look, a split second, before racing into the hall where he was holding the railing and staring down at a broken vase. “It was on the edge before I reached the table.”

“Where are you going?” Rebekah rolled her eyes.

“To get the rest of mother’s grimoires,” he gestured up the stairs. “I have no intention of dying tonight.”

“Excuse me?” Elena’s voice drew everyone’s attention to where she stood at the door. “You’re dying? How are you… what…?” she gestured to the door and her car beyond. “I was gone two hours.”

Elijah handed her the paper Finn had brought back, watching as she read through it. Her expletive was covered by Kol’s coughing fit.

The page crumpled in her hands as she pushed through the assembly of vampires and pulled the crushed handkerchief from his hands; her eyes widened on sighting the blood her nose had already smelled. Her ears perked up, catching the race of his heart, and under her breath she murmured a spell that slowed the rapid beating.

Kol lowered his eyes; the handkerchief seemed to spin in his hands, or perhaps the hall was spinning around him. The floor shifted beneath his feet. His knees buckled and he fell.

Elena caught him under the arms, lowering him to the stairs. She pressed the back of her hand to his pale brow and found him cold as ice; truthfully she found that more worrying than a fever.

“Please tell me someone has an idea?” She hated the pleading tone of her voice; she hadn’t felt so helpless since learning through telegram that Thierry was ill back in the forties; the despair threatened to swallow her whole just as it had then when she realized her loved one was dying and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

“The solution would be to reverse the spell,” Klaus passed a glass of water to Kol.

Elena steadied his hand around the glass when it shook. “Thank you so much for stating the obvious,” she gritted her teeth.

“Well, nobody else was speaking,” he leaned against the wall.

“And you just had to fill the silence,” Kol wheezed.

“Drink,” Elena scolded him, tipping up the glass, “slowly.”

“There is no reversing mother’s spell,” Finn nodded to the page still in her hand. “The only thing to do would be to turn him again…”

“That would leave him vulnerable,” Rebekah shook her head, “not to mention – potentially – hundreds of vampires.”

“Would…” Kol coughed, took a sip of water and tried again. “Would it be p… possible to not discuss me as if I’m not right here?”

“He’d be alive,” Elijah glanced down at his brother.

“Or I’d be dead,” Kol rolled his eyes. “Do you really think that mother didn’t think of that possibility?”

“If you would all let me finish speaking,” Finn raised his voice to be heard over the din and the hall fell silent. He looked around to make sure nobody else was going to interrupt him before clearing his throat. “Kol is right, mother would have thought of that. I was referring to the spell that made us vampires.”

“A spell that requires a witch with mother’s blood, white oak, the blood of the doppelganger and the full moon,” Rebekah arched an eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”

“Not necessarily,” Elena chewed her bottom lip. “Your mother is downstairs…”

“I turned her actually,” Klaus lowered his eyes under her glare.

“… Two hours…” she muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Kol is also a witch…”

“I’m pretty sure I lack the power for a spell like that.”

“You’d only have to be present for it,” Elena waved him off. “Klaus has a store of my human blood on hand – unless you went on a hybrid making spree?” She met his eyes; despite having to crane her head back to catch his gaze, she did not feel small. She nodded when he shook his head. “That’s two things then and there is more white oak; a sapling replaced the tree you lot burnt to the ground.”

“How do you know this?” Elijah’s eyes narrowed.

“Do I look like a normal vampire?” Elena sighed. She rolled her shoulders back, adjusting her stance on the stairs. “A piece of it was used to make me back in 1914; I don’t know exactly where it came from, only that it originated somewhere in Mystic Falls.”

“Do you remember the cave where we carved our names?” Rebekah glanced between Klaus and Elijah, leaving Elena with the sense that Finn and Kol had been left out of the excursion. “I came across it last night when I was looking for Elena. Carvings have been added to the walls telling of the sapling she mentioned.”

“Even if you could find it, darling,” Kol braced his back against the stairs, “there is still that matter of a full moon that I will not live to see.”

It was Finn who answered her confused expression. Her stomach clenched painfully and she rocked forward, holding her head in her hands; mind racing a mile a minute. Time was a precious commodity that they were running out of.

If only she could freeze it.

She rubbed her forehead with frozen fingers. She needed more time; time to find the white oak, time to prepare the spell, time to reach the full moon.

He would be dead before she could do any of it.

If only she could stop the clock.

What a shame cryonics wasn’t a possibility.

She needed some magical council. She needed Bonnie – who wasn’t talking to her – or Freya – who was taking a very long nap.

“A very long nap…” she breathed so softly the other vampires only heard her exhale. She lifted her eyes, glancing at the Originals who were tied to her and the one who wasn’t; Rebekah met her gaze head on and spotted the determined light before her brothers registered the change in Elena’s demeanor. “I have an idea; a crazy, stupid, impulsive idea that is just ludicrous enough that it might work.”

Thoughts? :D I love hearing from you.

@elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling @cry-btch @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @geekofmanyfandoms

#elena gilbert #KOL #Kol mikaelson #kolena #kol x elena #elena x kol #klaus mikaelson #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #rebekah mikaelson #jeremy gilbert #thierry vanchure #elijah mikaelson #alaric saltzman #finn mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #the forgotten fanfic

[soleminisanction]

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

Poised on the upper landing of the Manor’s grand staircase, Brianna Wayne bears a striking resemblance to Tim’s mother. They have the same sense of style (fine suits and commanding high heels, though Bria prefers boots to pumps), the same regal demeanor (squared shoulders, perfect posture, head raised high) and the same all-encompassing presence that makes his mouth go dry and his heart pound against tightening ribs.

They are of the same breed: resilient women in a man’s world, self-forged into weapons that only fools would dare challenge. The creeping knowledge that this woman is also Batwoman, Gotham’s dark knight, only increases the tension. He’s known for years, but now she knows that he knows. And he’s here to train with her. To maybe, if he proves himself, become Robin.

Tim has never been more excited in his entire life, nor more terrified.

He hides the latter with a grin, hands tense on the straps of his book-bag. “Hiya, Ms. Wayne.”

“Bria is fine.” As Bria descends, her cool, dark eyes give Tim a once-over, taking in his school uniform (rumpled), his hair (gelled, but wilted since this morning), and his school-bag (full of homework and the clothes he’ll need for this weekend visit). Her painted lips thin into a tight line. Her expression is unreadable.

Her gaze burns into Tim until he squirms, his chest growing tighter than ever. When they’d first met, Bria could hardly meet his eye; he’d been dressed as Robin, after all, a ringer for her dead partner and son. Now that she saw him for real, he couldn’t shake the idea that those shadowed navy eyes are peering into his very soul.

She reaches the floor alongside him and pauses only a moment to complete her observation. Then she turns, gesturing for him to follow. “Before anything else, you and I need to talk. Alfred, some tea would be lovely.”

“Of course, Miss Brianna.” The old butler primly tucks his driving gloves into a coat pocket and clasps Tim on the shoulder as he strides for the kitchen. It’s meant to be supportive, but the very idea that Tim needs support makes his stomach squirm.

He stars up at Bria, willing himself not to pout. “Am I in trouble?”

Her gaze softens. “No. But we need this.”

Tim nods and follows, his sneakers almost as silent as her heels on the thick carpet. She leads him to her first-floor study and motions that he should take a seat on one of the couches. Tim obliges, tucking his backpack under his feet and trying not to stare at the grandfather clock, now that he knows what it hides.

Alfred appears shortly thereafter, bearing a full tea set and several fresh-buttered scones. He places the tray on the coffee table between them, prepares each a cup to their preference, and bows out, latching the door behind him.

Bria muses over a few long, silent sips before, at last, she begins. “So. Tim.”

He straights his posture. “Yes?”

“You must know we’ve investigated you.”

He deflates.

She knows. Of course she knows.

“Naturally, we began with your school.” Her tone and expression are both carefully even, like she’s trying to soothe a frightened dog. “We needed their permission for you to spend weekends here. That meant getting access to your student records, including your parents’ names…”

Tim bites the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

“…which led to Alfred’s revelation that, so far as the public knows, Jack and Janet Drake have only one child. A girl.”

Tim hurriedly sets down his teacup before his shaking hands can do it for him.

“Tim—”

“I’m sorry!” he blurts, hands clutched over his thighs. “I swear, I didn’t mean…I-I’m not lying. Wasn’t lying, I swear. I just…”

He blinks against the tears that prick at the back of his eyes. He doesn’t have the words to explain why and how he’d approached her like this, why he’d dressed in boy’s clothes and given the name “Tim” when Dick and Alfred had asked. Maybe he’d thought he could disappear after Dick came home. Or maybe, maybe, when he’d thought this would be his only chance to meet his heroes, he’d been desperate for them to see him as himself. Or maybe…

“Tim.”

Brianna’s second call, more firm, cuts through his thoughts like a warm knife through butter. His heart trips over the realization that she’s still using his name. She has also set down her teacup. She pats the embroidered cushion beside her.

“Come over here. I want to show you something.”

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Tim abandons both his teacup and the untouched scone. Once he settles awkwardly alongside her, Brianna opens a coffee table drawer and pulls out a leather-bound family album, which she opens across both of their laps.

The photos contained within are clearly of her childhood. Some are even in black and white. They’re labeled in neat handwriting — Alfred’s, Tim would guess — but never with more than a date and few names. There’s school photos, galas, social events and private moments, all of the same three figures: a handsome man, a beautiful woman, and a lean, spritely dark-haired boy.

Tim frowns, his thoughts nagging, but it doesn’t register until Brianna stops on a family portrait. It looks very much like the one above the mantle in this very room, only the album’s version also features the young boy in a stiff, short-pants suit. The label beneath it reads only:

Masters Thomas and Martha Wayne, age 36 & 34 Master Bruce Wayne, age 7.

Tim stares at the page for a full thirty seconds before it finally clicks. He gasps as his head jerks up to stare at Brianna, goggle-eyed.

She smiles softly back, leaning in until their shoulders brush with something like affection. “I only figured myself out a decade after this was taken. I’d never heard of the word ‘transgender’ before then. It took me years to come out, but once I did…I’ve never looked back.” She lifts her hand, hesitates, then tucks a bit of hair behind Tim’s ear. “To possess that level of self-awareness at your age is admirable.”

Tim shake his head, trying to rattle his thoughts into some kind of order. “I…I’ve always known. I mean, I didn’t have the words, but I just…knew.”

Brianna nods in understanding. “When did you…”

She gestures to all of him. Boy’s haircut, boy’s uniform. Binder and cup.

“Just this year. I, ah, hacked the school records over the summer. Nobody noticed. New school, new level, new start and all.”

“And your parents?”

Without thinking, Tim’s shoulders slump. “They, ah. Haven’t been home to see my haircut yet. And without the gel they might not, you know.”

He bites his lip, silently begging that she won’t make him explain. Part of him wants his parents to know. He wants them to use the right name and stop sending him dolls or jewelry or dresses that feel like he’s wearing another person’s skin. But a larger part is afraid. What if they blow him off? What if his mother thinks he’s trying to cheat, to take “the easy way” to respect when she had to fight for it so hard? And Dad…Dad, who calls him “Janie” and dotes on “his princess,” who beams with pride when he sees the dresses he’s bought put to use…what would he even think?

To his unending relief, Brianna doesn’t pry, though she does gaze sadly upon her family photo. “My parents never had the chance to know. I’ve always regretted that. But it does make things easier.” She closes the album and sets it aside, turning to face Tim with a fiercely protective expression. “Tim, however this training pans out, I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need support. I have press contacts, access to research, top medical experts on speed dial, and a half-dozen lawyers on retainer who specialize in discrimination suits. And…I also have personal experience. For whatever that’s worth.”

She mutters that last bit, but to Tim, it means more than he could say. Brianna Wayne, Batwoman, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises and one of the world’s greatest heroes, is like him.

He beams and half-wishes he could hug her. But they’re still basically strangers, so he holds back and hopes the smile says more than he can.

Brianna clears her throat and doesn’t look at him as she sets the photo album aside and stands up. “Now, about your training.”

Tim sits at attention. Brianna pins him with a sharp, stern look.

“No binders in the Cave.” She raises one finger to cut off his objections. “No buts. You’ll have enough bruised ribs from training alone, you don’t need to risk any more. Trust me, we have alternatives. Are you on puberty blockers?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“I don’t think my doctor would…”

“Your new one will. So long as it’s your choice, she’s supportive. And even if she wasn’t, well.” Bria shrugs. “It would hardly be the first drug I’ve procured under the table. Get changed after you finish that scone; you’re going to need the extra calories.”

She strides for the grandfather clock. Tim scarfs the last of his tea and hurries out to the guest room, where Alfred has laid out a training uniform. The first deep breath after he pulls off the binder tastes of sweet anticipation.

------

Four months later, Brianna presents him with a Robin costume all his own. He stands before a full-length mirror and admires the defined muscles of his armor, the way it broadens his shoulders and slims his hips. He puts on the mask and feels more like himself than ever before in his life.

And that night, the Boy Wonder flies again.

------

Originally posted on AO3 a bit over a week ago, but there’s been a lot of exclusionist bs on my feed today, so it’s here now too. Happy pride everybody.

#batman #robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #genderbends #genderbending #batmom au #batmom #the adventures of batmom and robin the transboy wonder #trans positivity #trans pride #batfamily #pride 2019 #happy pride 🌈 #tw transphobia mention #fuck terfs and fuck transphobes

[fallen029]

About Life: Avow

Previous Chapter

The memory felt as fresh as any experience she'd had in the past hour. She could smell the rot from the bodies that had yet to be buried and she could feel the heat, as though the summer sun had long set, the ground seemed to radiate all it had absorbed through the day. She was seated in the grass, outside of the tiny hut, inside of which they tended to her father in his final moments. She was very young, too young, even, to be dealing with such a situation, but you were never the one to get to decide those things.

Her siblings were back at home, with one of the elders in the village, where they slept with the promise that they could see their father in the morning. It was a lie though and Mira knew this, as it was certain to all that her father wouldn't make it through the night. The illness had spread and enveloped him completely.

His time was more limited than them all.

"You should go home, child," one of the women told her wearily as she sat with her, both listening as the moans of her father drowned out any sounds of the clear night. "The morning will be long. And every day after it. Go rest. You'll find little of it after this."

But Mira refused. She sat out there, in the hot soil, listening. She heard every whimper and cry of the man. It was how she heard it when, with some of the last words he would ever speak, he called out for her.

"I need," he begged with the sound of heavy fluid on his longs, "to see my daughter."

She heard it though, from out there. She also heard as they cautioned him against this and told him to just lay down. No one should see their father in that way. It shouldn't be the last image you have of any loved one, really.

But as the woman beside her reached to grab her arm, the young girl slipped away from her and rushed right into the hut. She always came when her father called.

Always.

He a mess of a man then, drenched in sweat and with only a blanket keeping him modest. He hadn't gotten the pox that went along with the sickness, like some in the village did, like her mother had, but the smell of his unwashed body mixed with all the things inside of him that he'd expelled through the past two days he'd been in that tiny hut burned her nostrils and, at the sight of her, one of the men inside tried to turn her away, but she went to her father's side, falling beside where he was laid on a pallet on the floor.

He was the last of the infected in village and, though others had been on close proximity to others during that time period, it only seemed to infect a select few. No one knew why that was or how it chose its victims, but considering her had nursed her mother through her death and her father before these past few days, as he was on his last leg, her immunity was unofficially confirmed. At the very lest by village standards.

"Janie," he breathed at the sight and fell back against his pallet once more. Calmed, it seemed. "Janie."

"Papa," she sniffled as, reaching for his much larger hand, she held it both of hers and stared at him, eyes stinging a bit, as she looked the man over for what would be the last time. "Please, stay. Please. Don't go."

There were others in the tiny shack, but most left then, other than the town's doctor, who stood over them silently. She was sure that there was more to it, that at least someone said something ot her, told her to leave, but she couldn't recall if they did at that point. All she could remember was stroking his hand and begging him not to leave her. To not leave her alone.

"Shhh," he finally whispered as he turned his head to look at her and it was from him that she and her sister got their striking blue eyes, but his had lost their light then. "It'll be okay."

No. It wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't. It hadn't been okay since the outbreak first struck. Things had only gotten worse since then. And, soon enough, they'd become the worst she'd experience in her life until many years later, when she'd lose her sister as well.

She hadn't cried, Mira hadn't, yet. She felt like it at times. But she hadn't. She felt too sad too, most of the time, in that horrible stretch of about two months where her entire world was shattered. It was already so pitiful, before, but it felt hopeless then. Even when she lost her mother, not two weeks back then, it hadn't felt so terrible. She loved the woman, she loved her dearly, but she'd always thought that her father was the strongest man in the world. To see him, as he was then, to know that he would never be the way she always pictured him again…

As her tears fell on his hand though, he only gently shook it free of hers and reached up, with his filthy and stained one, to reach up and cup her cheek, listening as she sobbed. It was the last thing he heard, over his own wheezing. When his hand fell, so did she, to his chest, crying and sobbing and screaming like the kid she was. For the last time she was. Because when she'd dry her eyes and head back to her own shack, where Elfman and Lisanna both were, neither knowing that, finally, they were all three officially orphaned, she couldn't be a kid anymore. Not when she had two other ones to take care of.

But Mirajane didn't cry for the loss of her childhood, she couldn't recall every truly doing that, but rather because she'd just lost the one person she'd thought she'd always had. That she'd had since she'd come into the world. He'd always liked to tell her about it, the day she came into the world. And how he held her first and helped clean her off some, before presenting her to her mother. HE loved his other kids, she knew that. Of course he did. Elfman was his only son and Lisanna was his little baby, but it had been Mira that he called out for, in those final moments and though she never shared this with her sister, she thought about it as frequently as she did the time of day.

Her father was the most important relationship in her life before his death. And following. Though at times the things she did she knew would only upset him, she thought of him frequently and missed him terribly. Every day. She'd lost a lot in her life. Her mother, her father, her village. All things, when she was young, she loved dearly. If, as with Lisanna, she got a chance to have one of the three back though, she would chose him.

Every time.

As she stared at Laxus, with a determination in his eyes, part of her remembered that time, when her father was her world. But not a very big par. A bigger part thought much more about how Aura was hers. And no one else's.

"What are you talking about? Laxus?" She tried to keep her voice down, but it was difficult. "Who is your-"

"Mirajane-"

"I don't know what you-"

"Don't play dumb with me. Because I know you're not. You know exactly what I'm talking about," the man told her stiffly. "And you're going to let me see her. Right now."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You- Don't you close this door in my-"

"Laxus-"

"No, Mirajane. No. I let you have your little game for three years. Now-"

"My little game?"

"Yours."

They had a glare going then, the pair of them did, and Mirajane thought about breaking. About crying. That would get Laxus to leave, at least for a little bit, but for some reason, her ability to do so felt dried up in that moment and she couldn't even get out a sniffle.

Finally, Laxus broke first as he looked off before whispering, "Look, Mira, just don't make this more than it has to be."

"It's not anything, Laxus."

"You can't lie to me. I know."

"You don't know anything."

"I smelled her, Mira."

That one caught her off guard and she took a step back then, frowning. "You what?"

"Everyone has a scent, Mirajane," he grumbled as he glared at her. "And she has some of mine on her. I would know. That day...that day you took her up to the guildhall… I knew. I would recognize my own scent."

She deflated some, he saw then, before looking off as well while she thought. He tried to take a step forwards then, but Mira still stood in his way.

"She's asleep," she said suddenly and he only snorted.

"Mira-"

"She is. What do you want me to do, Laxus? Wake her up? It's late. You-"

"So she is my daughter then?" he challenged and, with a groan, Mira took some steps back and allowed him entrance.

"Keep," she hissed at him still though and she didn't sound anything like her cheerful, peppy self that she promoted up at the guildhall, "your voice down. She really is asleep."

Laxus, who'd never been in the Strauss home, only took a few moments out to look around. When his eyes fell back to Mirajane's, hers were just as dark as his had been when he arrived. But he'd cooled off some, just a tad, as the adrenaline wore off and he became more nervous energy began to fill his body. The impulse had led him here, but now it was leaving him here and he'd crossed the point of no return.

"So?" Mira, apparently, was tired of his silence. "What do you want, Laxus?"

"I told you what I wanted."

"Laxus-"

"Did you think that I'd just never bring this up? Ever?"

"Yeah, I kind of did considering you've spent the past three years not caring."

"Who says I didn't care?"

"Considering you hightailed it out of the guild and never spoke to me about it-"

"Why did you lie to me? Mirajane?" He wasn't going to be wrung through the ringer when she, clearly, was the one that was actually at fault. "You tried to hid my child from me. I'm not the bad guy here. You are."

"How am I the bad guy?"

"How are you not?" he challenged right back and, wow, he didn't realize just how pissed he was at her until that moment, but he truly was. She had lied to him, kept something from him. Something important. And even if they weren't really friends after all, even if they weren't even really guild mates, that was a horrible thing to keep from another person. "You hid my daughter from me, Mira."

"She's not your daughter."

"Mira-"

"What do you want me to say, Laxus?'

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"Why? Since you seem to know it so well yourself, what difference does it make what I-"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asked. They were standing in her living room, but Mira seemed equally as out of place as he did. "Huh? Everything we said to each other and did… I wanted a kid too. We agreed-"

"I was going to tell you," she cut him off. "But-"

"When? Huh? When were you going to-"

"When you came back home," she kept up. "But you wanted to tell me that you and… That you'd met someone and I just..."

"Mira," he started, but that was as far as he got as he didn't know what else to say. Only stared at her.

Shaking her own head, the woman replied, "It just shocked me. At first. You came back, all happy and-"

"And you thought it was a good idea to...to what? Punish me? By hiding my daughter from me?"

"Stop saying that."

"It's true."

"According to you, you knew the first time you saw her so, at most, I hid her for a month. You could have brought any of this up at any time. You chose not to, Laxus. You. Not me."

"You're good at it, aren't you?" He snorted. "Making yourself look like the victim?"

"I'm not the victim. I know that I did wrong. But you-"

"I'm not yelling at you, Mira," he grumbled, "about these past three years. I'm telling you that, right now, starting now, I want to see my daughter."

"Why?" she got out then. "Why now, Laxus?"

He let out a short huff of breath through his nose before remarking, "It's none of your business, Mira, but...my wife and I are going to be trying for a baby soon."

She blinked then, still confused, she asked, "And? What difference does that make? Go have that kid with her, Laxus. You'll like it a lot better. Just leave this alone."

"I can't." He was able to look her in the eyes, finally, as he said, "Before I have another kid, I at least have to let this one know I exist."

"What difference does it make, Laxus? She doesn't need you. She has me. She's fine."

"I know she is," he assured her. "But I need this. I can't… I can't go forward with having more children until I get this one take care of."

"But she is taken care of."

"Yeah, Mira, I know, but not by me."

"I don't want you-"

"It doesn't matter what you want." And there. That was the heart of the matter. What he'd been skating around. It was the truth too. "It doesn't matter-"

"She's my daughter, Laxus."

"She's our daughter," he corrected. "Mira."

She wanted to kick him out. He could tell. There was something dark in her eyes

That wasn't his fault. It was hers. then and he could feel her shift from annoyance from anger. But he didn't care. Because he was angry too. And he was far more in his right to be than she ever was.

Mirajane had caused this situation. Not him. And fine, he was the one pushing it to forefront, but it wouldn't have happened if she'd just been honest with him. Literally at any point during the past few years, if she'd just come out and said something, they wouldn't be in the situation that they were now.

"I've thought," he continued then, in a softer tone, "a lot about this. For weeks. Since the beginning of it, really. And fine, at first I thought that...that I didn't… But something's come over me. And if another kid I'm going to have will have a father, why shouldn't this one?"

"She doesn't need-"

"Everyone needs their father, Mira."

"You didn't," she argued. "You were better off without Ivan."

"But I would have been better with a real father."

"Laxus-"

"I'm not saying that I want to take your kid from you," he told her. "I'm saying that I should at least get to see and speak with her. To have her know that she's my child. I have rights in this, Mira."

"Why? Because your nose tells you so?"

He was almost snarky back, but then, instead, something clicked in his mind and he said, "My contract says I do."

Mira was caught off guard it seemed as she asked, "What are you-"

"The contract. We signed a contract when we made this kid. I have rights to her." Yes. Of course. Then, more confident now, he said, "She's mine and you know it. If I challenged you to bring me her real father, you couldn't. Because it's me. You know it's me. You signed a contract with me that, if we had a child, I had certain rights to it. Some of which you've already violated. So don't make me push the issue further, Mira. You won't like the results."

He felt so in the right then and Mira almost seemed concerned. Almost. Her mind was just as sharp as his, it seemed and, with a shrug, she spoke.

"Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove that there's a contract."

"What?"

"If we were both in a court of law," she reasoned, "and you said there's a contract and I say there isn't and neither of us produce the contract, then it's nonexistent. So? Do you have it?"

Sour then, he only said, "Don't get this way, Mira."

"You're the one that-"

"I'm not going away." And they'd reached the end then, it seemed, of their conversation. Laxus started walk then, away from her, and out of the house. "I want this. Now. It's my right. Contract or no contract, I know you, Mirajane. You had your fun, you got your time with her. Now I want some of it too. Whatever terms you have to come to with this, do it. Soon. I'll be back."

Mira wanted to say something. She needed to say something. She could feel it too, her control slipping and everything was happening so fast and she felt like this was all a dream. That she'd just fallen asleep, that was all. And was having a nightmare.

Her stomach was in her throat and the sight of him, with his back to her, almost to the door, only made her tear up, but she wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry.

But she could speak, suddenly.

It just wasn't what she wanted to say.

"Do you even know what she looks like? Laxus?"

That got him to pause and, shrugging his shoulders, the man hardly glanced over them as he remarked, "No. I only saw her that once."

"Did you… Do you really want to? Because you don't have to, you know. If you want everyone know...for her to know… Then she can. Without this. You can just go home and not see her and she'll be just as well off. She doesn't need someone else in her life. She has me and Elf and Lisanna and all my friends-"

"A father's different, Mira." He whispered it, but he meant it. "Than a mother."

She knew. Oh, she knew.

"Do you really want her to have one though?" she countered. "Or is this just to help clear your conscious? Because don't… If you don't want to be there for her, just don't. Don't ever. But don't get her used to something and then pull it out from under her. And your wife-"

"Tasha has nothing to do with this."

"But she will. I mean, gosh, Laxus, what does she even think?"

He was silent then and a different part of Mira would be so thrilled with such juicy insider info. But the side of her that was now a mother who was, at least in some way, now part of Laxus and his personal life, felt an even heavier weight placed upon her.

"How could you not tell her before you came here?"

"I don't think I should take marriage advice from someone who hid a kid from a man-"

"I did it for you, Laxus."

"Are serious right now? You did it because you...you… I don't know why you did it! But I know-"

"I said to keep your voice-"

"Why did you do this? Why did you let me think-"

"You came back, Laxus, on the day I was going to tell you and..."

"And what? What did I-"

"You met someone else." Finally, the anger dropped out of her voice and Mira sounded more human. "I was waiting to tell you, but you came back and were talking about meeting someone else and-"

"I couldn't meet someone else, Mira, because you weren't someone to begin with."

It sounded harsher than he intended, but it was what he was thinking and it fell out of his mouth then, as he turned to look at her. But Mira only nodded some at his statement.

"I know."

"Then-"

"But it scared me. Because you came back so...happy and if I told you then..."

"You fucked everything up because you were scared?"

"Isn't that why everyone does?"

He didn't know what to say. And Mira was out of things too then. They were just both defeated in their own mess. Eventually though, Mira took a deep breath.

"She's sleeping," was what she repeated once more, "but if you wanted to…see her, then..."

If he had left then, after his big blow up, and gone back to Tasha, gone back to his life, the impulse might have completely died and he might have decided he'd made a mistake. He might have just gotten off on exposing Mirajane and then deciding against actually doing anything with the child. Just letting it known to Mira that, yes, he did know and he would come back , if he wanted, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

But if Mira's world changed the second she opened the door, Laxus' did the second he followed Mirajane down the tiny hall and to the little girls' room. When she opened the door, he could see her in there. The sun was setting, red and orange hues illuminating the room just enough so that he could see her. There. She was sleeping, as Mira said, cuddled up under some blankets on her bed. And he could smell it too. He had the second he had come into the house, though it was much more faint. Now, in her room, around her, when he sniffed deep enough, she was all he could smell.

His daughter.

"Do you even know her name?" Mira whispered as they stood there, in her doorway. "Laxus? It's Aura."

His chest felt tight, but he was able to whisper, "Aura," as he eyes only stayed on her. Then, swallowing, he repeated it once more. "Aura."

It was too loud though, that time, and from her bed the girl stirred some, lifting her head. Mira froze then, holding her own breath, hoping that she just go back to sleep.

But things never worked that way.

"Mommy?" came this childlike plea and Mira moved forwards automatically, to go tend to her, while Laxus only hung back, watching.

"Aura," her mother whispered as she came to bend down and brush the girl's hair back. "It's alright. I was just checking on you. Go back to-"

Laxus shuffled then, in the hall, making just enough noise to not only make Mira acknowledge him, but also to get Aura to glance over. At the sight of him, she sat up in even more surprise and maybe he should have been offended, Laxus should have, but he only stood there. Silent. Watching.

Mira gave him a look too, for drawing such attention to himself, but it was too late then, it seemed and, still bending over her daughter, she only nodded towards the man and said, "This is Mommy's friend. Laxus. He's from Fairy Tail."

That relaxed the girl, almost instantly it seemed, but not as much as when Mira finished.

"He's Master's grandson."

"Master," Aura whispered and, smiling, she spoke then to the first time to her father and added, "Hi."

He felt hot then, Laxus did, and his stomach hurt. His eye were watery. His head was aching. He felt like he was dying.

"Hi," he whispered back and the little girl giggled and he had to leave. He had to go then. It was as he turned to though that his eyes caught a strange pattern of light trickling in and, looking over at the window, he saw it there, still, all those years later. His statue. Watching over her the whole time.

"I have to go," he told Mira, but she only stayed by her daughter and he headed right back out of the house, to get away from them. To get away from it.

But Mira didn't have the same luxury.

She pressed a bunch of kisses to Aura's golden head and, eventually, the girl drifted right off. The second she had, Mira went and got her communication lacrima and convinced Lisanna to ditch Elfman and come home immediately. Elf wanted to come too, since Mira was clearly distraught, but she insisted he stay and finish the job.

Plus...she really wanted to talk to her sister. Without him there. It was the only thing she wanted.

Laxus though, he had to go home. He had to face the music. And the train ride there did little to help his already queasy stomach. He must have looked like death when he arrived home, slipping out of his coat and walking through the darkened house. His wife wasn't in their bedroom though, but did find the light on in her office. That place reeked too, but of paint and her.

The two were pretty mutually exclusive.

"Go away," was all she said, her back to him as she stood before an easle, not even turning as he opened the door. "I'm busy. What's the rule?"

"Tasha-"

"The door is closed and that means-"

"Tasha." His voice broke some too and got her to turn that time, to look at him. He usually would girl at the sight of her hair up in the messy bun and how, when she was curious about something, her nose scrunched up and...and…

"What?" She knew him too and could tell then that something was very wrong. She rushed right over to him then, stepping around all the junk she kept in the room, nearly tripping on the way. "Laxus? What happened? Are you okay?"

But he couldn't look her in the eyes. It was impossible. Instead, he focused on something passed her as he reached out, grasping her shoulders in his hands and began...began...began what he could make of the situation that Mira had gotten him- That he'd helped get himself in. That he'd only perpetuated for years at that point.

Mirajane wasn't without her punishment as well though because, a few hours later, when Lisanna arrived back home, she had a lot to unload too. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant, but it still both sisters in tears and Lisanna had never felt so betrayed by her sister. Never once. Mira didn't hide things from her. And yet, somehow, she'd hidden the largest thing in the world form her.

Lisanna slunk off to her room and Mira only pulled the covers over her head, wishing to wake up and it all be different. But it wouldn't be. It couldn't be. All because she'd been too scared, when the time came, to tell Laxus the truth, and every instance afterwards that she had the chance to.

Laxus felt much the same, in his home, alone then. Because he came clean. Completely clean. He told her every single thing that he knew currently and had more than suspected previously. Tasha...didn't take it too well.

When she left, Laxus sulked, for a long time. Cursed them all. Mira, her child, even himself. Then, eventually, after downing a few beers, he got on his communication lacrima and requested the presence of the only people that would give him shit for what had happened.

Mostly because the one that would give him shit over it had long known and the other two were too fearful to rebuke him in such a way.

They did nothing to make him feel better though. And, as he passed out that night, Laxus' wish was much like Mira's. Only he wished he'd never gone and meddled in what was much better undisturbed. Or, even, not fucking around with Mirajane to begin with.

It was definitely all her fault.

Tasha didn't come back that night. Or the next morning. Afternoon either. And Laxus wanted to go look for her, he was sure she was with her family or one of her friends, but knew that would be no good. She always gave him his space. It was time to grant her hers.

Now that things were out though, Laxus knew there was one thing he could go do. That he had to go do. Because he trusted Freed, Bickslow, and Ever to keep anything he told them secret, but Mira was cornered now and he figured she'd start telling her side of things soon enough and, well, there was one person that he wanted to hear his first.

Makarov, understandably, was not pleased. Laxus saw him over at his home, where the elderly man spent more and more time as oppose to his guild and they had the conversation out on his back porch. The man had been shocked to see his grandson, the good kind.

Until he told his truth.

"Laxus," he whispered softly as he only shook his head in disbelief. "How could you know this for so long? And hide it from me?"

"Gramps-"

"I would give anything to have those years with you again. When you were that young. And you just wasted them."

"Mira didn't want-"

"Who is Mirajane Strauss then? To dictate what you do with your child?"

Letting out a long breath, Laxus only watched his grandfather as he whispered, "I just...I hate this. I hate it all."

The old man sighed himself, shaking his head once more. "It's not all bad. The child...Aura… My granddaughter."

And he started laughing then, the slight old man did, until he cried. Laxus watched silently, instead tilting his head up and staring at the sky.

How many times would he fail? Before he got things right?

After his grandfather's, Laxus went to the Strauss home once more, a good few hours earlier than the day before. He wasn't so certain the girl wouldn't already be in bed this time, but he had hope.

It wasn't Mira that answered the door though this time. Instead, Lisanna glared from the other side of the doorway at him and seemed, somehow, even more reluctant to let him in than her sister had.

"I came to see-"

"Mira's not here."

"That's not who I-"

"Aunt Lisanna!" And there she was Aura. She popped up from behind the woman, grinning as she hung onto the woman's hip. Peeking out from behind her, she giggled as she announced quite proudly, "That's Look-seez. Mommy friend."

And Mommy friends were always welcome.

Always.

Lisanna glared at him though before saying, "You shouldn't be here without Mirajane, Laxus."

He only frowned right back though. "I wasn't the one that caused this, Lisanna. Your sister-"

"I'm not really happy with her right now either, so we're even."

"Then just let me in." He could only shrug at the woman. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

She wasn't sure. Of anything, really. Still, Lisanna seemed hesitant as she opened the door more and Aura, starting to pick up on her aunt's emotions, eyed Laxus a bit more suspiciously now as he came into the house. Laxus did nothing to alleviate her fears. He wasn't much for smiling in normal circumstances. That day definitely wasn't one that he felt like giving one up. But he did hold his hand out to the girl, once he was there, in her living room, and slowly, Aura reached out to take it.

Laxus only wrapped his much bigger one around hers as he shook it, getting a giggle from the little girl. To her, he said, "I'm Laxus. Like your mother told you last night. And...and I think we might be spending a lot of time together, now, maybe. Some, at least."

Lisanna watched silently, ready to kick him right back out the door if the time called for it, but, after a moment's thought, Aura only retracted her hand before asking,

"Do you know Go Fish?"

"How to play, you mean?" Laxus asked with a frown. She was a bit hard to understand, as all young children are, for someone unaccustomed with their speech patterns. When she nodded, he only shrugged, looking to Lisanna before right in the girl's eyes as he said, "Yeah. I guess I do."

And she ran off to get her cards.

It was only after he was seated on the floor, with his legs crossed, with the reluctant Lisanna and the excited Aura that he learned the girl, however, had no idea how to play. But she definitely got the gist of the game.

"Gimme your cards, Look-seez."

How could he refuse?

When Mira came home to find them there, Lisanna once more attempting to explain the rules, Aura hording nearly all the cards, and Laxus looking very confused as to what the point of it all was, she didn't smile. She couldn't smile. But as her daughter jumped up to greet her (still carrying most of her cards with her, dropping some of them along the way), she didn't hate the sight of her sister and Laxus' eyes both watching them.

Just wished she didn't feel so tired at the sight.

Laxus didn't stay long after that and Lisanna still seemed distant form her sister, but Aura wanted to tell the whole thing to her mother that night before bed.

"Look-seez s'not very good at Go Fish," she accused with a shake of her head as her mother sat at her bed side, slicking back her hair. "I helped 'im."

"Did you?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Do you like Laxus? Aura?"

It wasn't like she had a lot to go on. Or was a very deep thinker at her age. But still, with a grin, her daughter nodded her head.

"Lots," she assured Mira and, looking down at her hands, she tried hard to not let her voice break as a few tears finally dripped down, speckling the pale white flesh of the back of her hands.

"Good," she whispered as her daughter, unaware, only hoped that she could see him again soon, to play again. "That's so good, baby."

Next Chapter

FF

#Miraxus #Mirajane Strauss #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction #8 of ?

[thecontentedkitchen]

Winter getaway anyone?  Neither our vacation bank account at work, nor our actual bank had enough margin for us to head south for a week like all of the other cool kids, so we decided to have an alternate adventure.  Where can you go for a few days that will give you lots of ad hoc options if you don’t feeling like planning, and will leave with a feeling like you had a bit of adventure? Easy to get in and out of, a subway that let’s you minimize winter cold exposure, and plenty to see and do? Toronto.

Typically I like to plan our travels, well before arriving I know where we are staying, what restaurants we are going to, and which attractions we are seeing.  This girl likes surprises, but not really.

This time however,  I just wasn’t feeling the love of planning.  Maybe because I had already been a few times and already had a loose idea of what I wanted to see, or maybe because after all of the work around Christmas I had become apathetic and gave up?  Both options are real and viable.  The only must do was hitting up a Brazilian Steakhouse.  My husband had been to one a few years earlier and getting back there was the only must-do on his list.

We took the train there because if you are going to the core of Toronto it is the absolute easiest way to get there. The train station is within walking distance of the CN Tower, the waterfront, shopping, the financial district, a subway connection, and a myriad of other things.  There are also plenty of hotels right there and fortuitously, for a cold January, the best deal we found when looking was actually at the Fairmont Royal York, across the street but attached by the underground.  Almost like the whole thing was meant to be.

Checking in, our first “win” was a free hotel room upgrade.  The are in the midst of renovations and we were moved to one of the newer rooms.  True to legend the rooms are indeed smaller than many other hotels, the hotel itself was built in 1927-1929 and things were smaller then.  The doorways and hallways all just slightly shorter/smaller than say a hotel built more recently.  But the luxury was another thing all together.   The hotel is gorgeous, ornate even, built with the best materials by the best craftsmen is what comes to mind when you walk up the polished stairs, across the thick carpet through the hand carved wooden elevator doors, into your spotlessly clean elevator.  Amazing.

Day one, we might have to call brewery day.

We got there early on day one and managed to drop our bags with advanced check in.  Clock-ticking as the train home left in less than 48 hours, we headed right back out to find some lunch.  We walked straight to the waterfront, I don’t care where I am or how cold it is, I always want to walk along the water if I get a chance to.  If there is another me in an alternate universe, I sincerely hope she lives by the water.  Discovery number one was the Toronto Police Marine Unit which carries out specialized emergency response.   The doors were open and it was really neat to see all of the boats.  I’m a nerd at heart so sue me.

The second discovery was the Amsterdam Brewhouse, located on the lake. Brewery and restaurant, it was a bit of one stop shopping you could say.

They have a wood fired pizza oven, smoke their own brisket on site, and of course brew some beer.  We ordered a burger and a brisket sandwich and each tried a flight of beer.  Food was delicious and soul satisfying, beers were all good although on this particular day the winners were their 3 Speed lager, Big Wheel Amber, and a raspberry farmhouse ale called Eye Candy.  A great start to a mini vacation.

Next, we walked out the door and headed north to Steam Whistle Brewing.  A less than five minute walk and right beside the CN tower.  Once upon a time this brewery situated on a former locomotive repair facility used to give out free samples of their wares.  The policy has since changed, likely due to people taking advantage of the program, but the beer is still good and a favorite we buy at home.

We did not have any samples and had just missed the free tour but we did take the time to visit the gift shop to pick of a few cans of beer that Steam Whistle will be brewing and selling in Canada for US company New Belgium.  We also grabbed a copy of the official Steamy Men of Steam Whistle calendar because it was hilarious and 100% of the proceeds go to charity.

  Next stop we headed back to the hotel for a mini break and a change of clothes.  We had arranged to meet a friend for dinner, and she had to get off work first.

Now friends are good to have and there are many different kinds of friends, but it is good to have the kind of friend who adds just the right amount of adventure to your life.  I can’t tell you what your right amount is, but for me, the right amount is Brooke.

Brooke is one of the most fascinating and fun people I have ever met.  What I call a social ringer, you can invite her to any gathering and she will help to make it better.  She is genuinely kind, but also tells it like it is, will call out your crap.  She has no time for xenophobia, racism, misogyny or homophobia and will tell you eloquently and elegantly why you are an ass, so be warned.  She also, is a continual learner, a lover of adventurous eating, practices martial arts, and has traveled enough to have excellent instincts and ability to read situations.  Our best adventure might have been the time we rented a pick-up truck and drove to the Grand Canyon while in Las Vegas for a course.  My second best memory is that same trip where we visited old Las Vegas and found a legit seen better days piano bar slightly off the beaten track. Man, that was awesome.

Planning things with Brooke is always a win because you just know something unexpected and good is going to happen.

So dinner with Brooke was at Bier Markt (brewery #3 if you are counting) where they brew Goose Island IPA on sight.  It was also a great meal, a great venue, and on another night, a spot for live music.  All within walking distance from the hotel again.

And then Brooke offered up those magical words that I was hoping to hear because she is from Toronto and knows all the good things.

“I know this microbrewery where a friend from high school works as a bartender.  It’s a little out of the way if you are interested.”

Yes, please, absolutely.  We finished dinner and headed to brewery #4, Blood Brothers Brewing.

Living up to her reputation for delivering unexpected adventure, it took two subways rides and a 15 minute walk across train tracks into a loosely industrial area to get there.  By loosely industrial I mean it was sandwiched between a seafood distributor and a hydroponics supply store.  The brewery itself is unassuming but we had heard good things about them from reviews we had read previously.  It is a converted garage with a bar, some tables and a kitchen.  Everything is brewed on site.  The decor is a goth meets mystic meets wiccan sort of affair and if I was having a Halloween party this would be the place to throw it.

Their beers are produced with fruit, grape skins, and barrels from the nearby Niagara winery region, and as we do also enjoy wine, we were curious and a little bit excited to try some. They all have names befitting the branding, Bloodvar, Fall of Thebes, Paradise Lost, and Trans Human State were among the fine choices. We each had a flight and circled back to our favorites.  I find that it is not typical for a brewery to do a variety of beers and do them all well, but not so here.  These were good beers.  I have to give a special shout to their imperial stout, a surprising smooth number entitled Balam which is produced with an exactly perfect balance of smoky malt, coffee, and vanilla.

Brooke’s friend from high school was indeed there and I tried without luck to get some dirt on her from high school.  No dice, he was a loyal friend.  Funny and friendly,  I was kind of sorry when our visit came to an end.  It was late,  we said goodbye to Brooke and took an Uber back to the hotel.

Day 2

Our hotel package came with breakfast and before we left, I probably said the wisest thing I ever said: Don’t wear your hoodie to the restaurant.

Even in office casual, we were woefully under dressed for breakfast, which I kind of expected being so close to the financial district but wow.  I have never seen so many people so well dressed for a breakfast business meeting.  There is not blending in, and then there was not blending in.  Clearly there were only two tourists in the room and they were us.

No matter, the food was excellent and the staff equally attentive and fantastic.  Highly attentive, attention to detail, friendly and considerate.  We enjoyed our meal and headed off to adventure.

Bucket list adventure time.  Did I mention I was a nerd?  We went to the Royal Ontario Museum, aka the ROM.  When I was little the King Tut exhibit went on tour and spent some time in Toronto at the ROM.  I begged my parents to take me but for lack of a better way to put it, we were working poor.  If they could have, they would have taken me, but for lots of reasons it didn’t happen, and that’s OK.  As an adult I’ve been to many a museum, I’ve still got a few on my wish list, and while I never did see Tut, I have seen my share of mummies, so we are good.

My husband likes the ROM for the dinosaurs so that was a must, but they also had a special exhibit of  award winning wildlife photography, and a sweet little number entitled “Blood Suckers: Legends to Leeches”.  How fun is that?  We hit all three, but I can not tell a lie, my favorite was Blood Suckers because I spent too many years working as a phlebotomist and am fascinated by the history of it.

They also had giant mosquito and black fly models, a section on vampires and other mythical creatures. Yay!

Kudos to ROM as well for also having a decent cafeteria and lunch offerings. Not fancy but great variety and good quality for the most part.  And again, terrific staff.

That really killed much of the day, we took the subway back, walked around Toronto’s PATH system for awhile to check out the shops, and otherwise enjoyed exploring until dinner.

We went to the Copocabana, but not the one with Barry Manilow.  This one was the Brazilian steakhouse and it was everything my husband promised. You pay one price, there is no menu.  A great salad and side dish bar but really the main attraction is the meat.  Servers walk around with different grilled meats on large skewers.  Try as much or little as you wish, and you can choose from multiple beef, chicken, or shrimp dishes. They keep coming until you admit defeat.  This is a special occasion come hungry sort of place.  I was impressed by both the variety of side dishes as well as the grilled meats and we had a fun time.  My favorite though might be this sign by the bathroom:

There is one bathroom door with one wall of sinks.  The stalls themselves are floor to ceiling stalls and unisex. One common bathroom for all of the patrons.  When we walked into the bathroom my husband was afraid he’s walked into the women’s room, when he left, a woman coming in thought she had walked into the men’s room.  When I was washing my hands, a man from another stall came out and washed his hands, slightly awkward because this isn’t the norm yet but it was perfectly functional and perfectly fine.  Welcome to the 2020’s, everybody survived.

This girl was tired and we had had enough beer the day before.  The best plan was to walk off some of the meal we just shared and that’s what we did.  We walked to the Eaton’s center and explored Hudson’s Bay.  They were selling overpriced Dolce and Gabbana toasters which reminded me of Harrods in London, so lets just call the whole thing posh.  I confess that I did find the kettle cute but at $800 I left it there.

We walked by and spent some time by city hall and Nathan Philips square.  Lots of skaters out there, but I was after a picture of the Toronto sign.

That’s probably as Canadian as it gets.

Back to the hotel to pack our bags and have a good sleep before the next morning’s train ride home.

The verdict: Toronto is fun, easy to navigate, lots to see and do, even better if you have an adventurous friend acting as a tour guide.  Completely acceptable for a mid-winter getaway if the beach is too far to get to.

  Two Days in Toronto Winter getaway anyone?  Neither our vacation bank account at work, nor our actual bank had enough margin for us to head south for a week like all of the other cool kids, so we decided to have an alternate adventure. 

#Beer #breweries #Canada #friend #friends #friendship #general #getaway #random #Toronto #Travel #vacation #winter