#I think I drew the wrong uniform but shh

[beann-e]

Mha Characters reacting to being hugged randomly by their s/o

Shinso

-shinso would welcome you & your hug & words & then fight you to see who’s better with their words

-i take from his character that he loves winning — no matter if it’s something small or not he’ll act like he doesn’t care for it but won’t stop until he wins

It’s been a hard day he’ll admit.

Today was his first day being around class 1-A — and he could honestly say

they were just as annoying as he thought

Everyone was too quick to welcome him and surround him which just pissed him off

well, apart from the asshole with the red eyes who he refused to keep eye contact with

just bakugous mere presence or even his mouth opening pissed him off

Knowing deku and going off of how they first met when he shoved him out of the arena

showing him yet again that the hero course was not to be messed with

he thought he was prepared to meet the same person only for him to be wrong and walk in to see hero deku and class deku were two different people he was not yet ready to meet

To him hero deku was hardcore and fight fight fight

class deku was a loser

a loser who got bullied , fell on the stairs flat on his face, and got embarrassed by aizawa when he for the 4th time yet again in one class started staring at shinso with wide eyes like a tiny pervert and writing like a stalker his notebook

He took a deep breath before he grabbed the handle to your door just knowing that being by your side he may feel a little better

he silently prayed that today you weren’t doing something weird in your room like he often’d find you.

Thanking god when he saw you at your desk a small wave coming from you at his entrance

“ drawing — give me a sec “

he grunted as he sat on your bed hands holding him up while he flicked through his phones many apps — well not many seeing as though he rarely had time to get on his phone

Which is why he was confused when he found himself actually going through it pausing when he noticed he’d ended up on google trying to figure out different dog barks and their meanings hoping he could find a way to talk to bakugou and tell him to shut the hell up

“ you uh — “ he threw his phone behind him on your bed propping himself up to lay back “ you still drawing “

“ mmhm “ you said softly as you traced on the paper in front of you attention focused on your new hero design

“ oh “ his voice was soft you knew something was wrong he wasn’t a man of many words but he would always try to string a sentence along for you

“ hey shin you good “ you put the pencil in your mouth as you erased a line you’d messed up on

“ yeah “ he moved to stand up “ yeah “ he let out while looking around your room “ just tired baby “

your eyes creased as you ran the words through your mind until you both sat in silence the room growing cold

‘ somethings off ‘

“ well my uh — my girlfriends too bus— “

his mouth fell open in a wide o as he looked down to see your face pressed into his chest hands tied around his back your feet planted right in between his as you two stood in the middle of the room

His heart beating out of his chest when he noticed what you were drawing

“ y/— “

“ shh “

you pushed yourself further in his chest “ hug me back please babe “

he jumped forgetting that sometimes he had to return your affection and couldn’t just accept it.

That was hard for him to let himself do the things you do so freely.

His arms hung loosely around your back making you smile “ your getting there “ your voice came out muffled “ I’m so proud of you pretty boy “

he shook at your praise “ p-pretty boy “

“ yeah — your fucking hot babe “ he felt himself sinking into you

“ h-how — how am I hot ? “ the word fell foreign on his lips

“ your quirks so amazing — you look so good when your trying your best it makes me feel warm inside — and I especially like when you use your voice mask “

he found himself smiling

“ don’t get me started on your looks who can pull off purple hair like you shin “

“ you — you could “

“ oh god see and your an amazing liar — your all around awesome shin “

“ t-thank you but I don’t des—“

“ you deserve it “

you two fell quiet as he gripped you harder finally giving in to your affection

‘ he’s ok now ‘

“ how did you know something was “ he sighed out as he pressed his head in your hair “ off “

“ your always tired shin — always — you’ve never actually voiced it though so I was — I felt off myself when you said it —it felt weird “

“ you knew off of one phrase “

“ one phrase “

he smiled into your hair pulling your face back to plant a kiss to your forehead

“ see so fucking beautiful baby “

your thumb traced his face making sure to run under his eyes feeling just how tired he actually was when you felt his eye bags

“ no after school rant today “ he laughed mocking you in your own voice

“ get to sleep baby you have class tomorrow— shin if I see any new eyebags i’m kicking your ass — bab— “

you pushed him away as he fell back on your bed

“ what ? what I was just saying — i mean am i wrong you do say all of those things “

“ get out “ you protested sitting back in your chair continuing your drawing “ come look at this “

he sat confused as he blinked “ I uh “

“ choose the latter “

he smiled as he walked over to your chair draping himself over your shoulder “ your so talented “

“ no I just — i draw “ you said softly

“ oh she just draws “ he copied “ the beautiful lady just draws as she proceeds to draw a portrait of my new hero costume “

he pouted “ you couldn’t have possibly done this all right now how long did this take you “

you looked away

“ I told you I knew you were sad “ sighing as you looked up at him neck bent backwards

“ so I started drawing it when I walked past you in the hallway like I said your always tired but today you were wiping at your eyes constantly — yawning and just then you confirmed it saying you were tired so I “

you looked away “ I drew what you’d been trying to “

he moved to place his lips on yours not letting up until the both of you had to tap out at the lack of oxygen “ your so fucking beau— “

“ Beautiful “ you cut him off words syncing with his up as you two continued the rest of the night with you yelling at him about how he had to open up to his classmates and accept their flaws first before he came to talk badly about them to you

except for bakugou he could talk badly about him

“ thank you for the hug “

“thank you for the acceptance on my drawing “

“ thank you for the praise “

“ thank you for being with me“

he scoffed as his face grew hard before relaxing into a smirk “ thank you for loving me “

“ y-you win “

he laughed as he met your face with one more kiss smiling down on you “ I win “

Bakugou

-you only know because he doesn’t get upset at your actions and your in total surprise

You moved your hand to poke at your boyfriend for the 7th time in a row

your body ducking under his bed in fear of his screams everytime you poked

you frowned when he didn’t acknowledge you

you were only doing it because you wanted to hear some kind of response from him most times when you annoyed him like this he would pick you up and plop you on his bed and tickle the life out of you until you both fell asleep

For some reason he was barely even moving from the spot he came in and laid himself down in

After class the both of you walked to his dorm and he unlocked it holding it open for you and walking in after throwing his backpack to the corner as he ripped off his uniform blazer hand outstretched for yours as he laid them over the back of the desk chair

squatting down to help you take off your shoes and then grabbing them to place at the door his own falling right off his feet with a loud thump.

Him moving to his bed grabbing you and sitting you down on the floor in front of him your legs crossed in front of you as he laid on the bed looking at your sitting figure on the floor

His eyes never leaving yours the whole time until he finally shook his head and turned away from you causing your body to fall

thus leading to your endless pokes

‘ wait now that I think about it ‘

“ babe— have you talked at all today “

you looked to the floor “ I— I don’t think you’ve talked all day “ holding out your hand counting off your fingers

“ at lunch you didn’t even ask me what I wanted you just “

your hands moved up with your shoulders in a shrug “ got it “

you played with the hem on your pants

“ at practice you didn’t partner with kiri you just stayed near me and when we got in your room you“

you looked to your feet voice soft trying to sort through your mind

“ you took my shoes off for me “

you sat for a moment moving to poke him again his body never moving no answer being given to you

“ I know your not sleeping kats —you breathe heavy as shit when you are so “

he didn’t laugh or even grunt nothing falling from his lips as your eyebrows quirked into a knowing furrow

Hands and body leaving the floor as you climbed on his bed to lay on top of his body

your chest draped over his right side

legs straddling his own and your mouth pressed right into his ear

“ I swear i’m not going anywhere baby “

you watched as his eyes moved from the wall across from you two to the pillow right next to him

in hopes of conserving his feelings

“ your doing great — your the coolest and strongest guy I know “

you kissed the outer shell of his ear

“ your so respectful and understanding of my needs“

you placed a kiss to his jaw “ your cuddles are amazing and you make me feel loved when you finally give in and let me win our fights — snuggling up to me on the couch “

you moved to kiss the end of his eyebrow

“ your so hot when you talk to me —that’s when I find you the hottest “

your eyes fell to his lips as you stared down on him

“ when you answer me — and acknowledge me “

he grunted a little in response

his eyes closing when your mouth found his neck kissing softly as you smiled

“ there you go pretty boy“

he groaned as you hugged him arms wrapping around whatever part of his body you could find

“ your kissing everywhere but where I want you to “

“ and where’s that “

“ you know babe “

his face flashed a look you weren’t fast enough to catch as you laughed at him

“ fine fine “

you let your lips hover over his as he turned his body so you were now laying directly on top of him

his hands coming to rest on your lower back

“ before I give you this kiss “

“ fuck—seriously y/n — you can’t just talk after—you worked me up expecting a kiss “

he shook his head in annoyance “ fucking tease — I knew I should’ve kept my mood “

“ but why “ your face dropped as you looked around his “ why did you have a mood katsuki “

he grunted “ because I “

he sighed as he looked directly into your eyes “ sometimes I feel like i’m not doing enough like I could do more for you and sometimes I feel like I treat you like an asshole and what — what girl wants to date an asshole “

he shook his head “ I don’t know if I tell you I love you enough or if I— if I show you that I can protect you if I wanted to or even that I can supply all your needs “

he mumbled under his breath “ I don’t even know if i talk to you enough “

you smiled as you ran your hand through the top of his hair “ you do — you do it all “

you laughed “ and your just fine “

he looked away as you pulled his face back

“ no kats look at me “ his eyes darted away hating how he just opened up to you and now you were begging for eye contact he felt stupid and way too open

“ kats look “ he slowly found his eyes moving to yours at your tone

he knew not to mess around when your praising him it pisses you off and one thing he knows he doesn’t feel like dealing with is a pissed off girlfriend

especially after he just cleaned up his room from your last outburst of firing off his gauntlet at his negligence to answer you

luckily he fell submissive right after mind racing at your attempt to kill him over a small eyeroll and scoff at your praise

Only sucking up his attitude so he didn’t have to run into another problem like that where aizawa flat out kicked his ass for the hole you created in the wall that he somehow took the blame for when he felt your stone cold stare on his back in the office

he was not about to risk his good moment with you right now

“ your amazing , Beautiful , smart and talented “ he shook at the praise body growing hot

“ your doing so good for me and I couldn’t ask for anymore “ you smiled slightly “ keep doing what your doing “

his heart thumped hoping you couldn’t hear it

“ and also i’m not complaining —if you y’know ever wanted to take off my shoes for me again “

he scoffed as he looked away from you and back “ how’d you know “

“ you always tickle me when I poke and annoy you “

you pouted as he spoke “ huh always ? “

“ always “

“ you know my routine that much “ you shook your head in a yes

“ so now that I know why your always pissing me off and what you want I doubt I feel like giving it to you anymore “

you moved to get off of him “ ok well i’m sure it’s a bit more fun with kirish—“

your loud laugh ripped through the room as you fell to his floor with a loud boom

his mouth curling up into a smile as he dragged you back on the bed your protest falling on deaf ears as he continued until he finally stopped speaking into your ear softly

“ I lov—“ he shook his head burying himself into your chest “ fuck you shitty woman “

you smiled at his words hand raking up the back of his neck and into his hair “ I love you katsuki “

kiri

-the only way I can see you understanding somethings off with kirishima is if he just hasn’t been smiling or making comments all day

-then your like :0 uh woah dude my boyfriend hasn’t smiled all day

“ how about ice cream and a movie ? “ you turned to the red head sitting on the couch beside you then shaking you head at your question “ nah sounds lame right “

you laughed “ I knew you would say that “

you pouted when your thoughts finally connected “ oh — nevermind babe i’m sorry I forgot I didn’t do my homework it’s the one midnight gave us I should probably get started—“

Your mouth moving so fast you missed the way the speed in his leg increased in its shakes , the puff of air he let out at your continued talking when he just wanted silence.

Sometimes he enjoyed being around bakugou because at least he had silence for a moment just a moment until he would scream his head off only to return back to the quiet environment he’d created before

“ so yeah it’s a lot and if I don’t get it turned in today I may just fail her clas -“

“ then get it done “ his voice was low and quick to snap at you which had your mind stalling

you laughed uncomfortable with the way he spoke to you “ aw uh where’s my happy guy “

he scoffed as he shifted on the couch his leg speeding up its pace “ where’s my annoying girlfriend “

he snapped his fingers pointing it to you “ oh I spy with my little eye “

his voice was dead as he spoke

“ she’s right next to me “

your eyebrows furrowed as you jumped back a bit

you couldn’t even make out words after his comments

you knew for your few months of dating kirishima that it couldn’t be possible for him to be happy and care about people’s feelings all the time

he had to open up and let you see him pissed off at least once to seal the deal on your relationship

this was it

this was the seal but for some reason you didn’t know if you could close it —much less address it and find the problem

“ kirishima what’s wrong with you “

“ you’ve just been talking all day baby i’m a bit tired of just— “

he felt his body growing a bit hotter than normal , you feeling the heat from his words make their way over to you everytime he spit them out

“just hearing you — I know I can go on and on for hours but if I can go hours you can go days and I just never noticed until now “

“ oh “

“ yeah I need some silence right now babe and your—your not helping” his voice was low even upset he was still trying to save your feelings not that it worked

“ no ones helping “

you looked from your boyfriend to everyone around the room

their voices echoing with laughter everyone spread out around the room as they spoke about what they all did today.

The kitchen full of people

bakugous yelling moving its way down the dorm halls

your face dropping as you stood and grabbed his hand that he snatched back quickly

“ I don’t want to leave “

you pouted settling yourself back on the couch you didn’t know how to deal with him like this and his best friend wasn’t here and almost everyone else he said was adding to his anger would just make him angrier right ? if you called them over

so who could you get to help ?

“ I may be pissed off by them but I — I still want to be around people I don’t want to be upset and alon— “

Time slowed as he felt his body weigh down almost as if he felt the weight of himself when he used his quirk.

Eyes widened before they closed basking in the heat your body supplied as you crawled in his lap wrapping your arms around his neck legs around his own in a straddle

his body just relaxing into your hold not making any movements the occasional jump to follow you whenever you would move

“ come on tell me what’s wrong baby “

your voice was soft in his ear not wanting to draw attention over seeing as though he wasn’t in the best of moods “ who do you want me to fight “

you looked closely at his face as he was just quiet hands finally moving to push both your legs up so that he could get you as close as possible his mouth moving to kiss yours

happiness of the moment overflowing within you as you let him guide you in the kiss surrendering all control to him and letting him lead

“ just feeling a little background today ? “ you said smiling hands cupping his face

“ I understand it gets to someone after a whil— “

“and everyone acts totally brand new when they see i’m not happy for one day —baby one literal day —why am i just expected to be happy all the time “

he dropped his head to your chest “ i’m not no one is”

“ so then tell me what’s wrong why aren’t you happy today “

“ nothings wrong y/n “

his voice boomed loud through your chest

“ nothing is wrong I just feel like having quiet today but because of that —here everyone is —in my face asking me what’s wrong telling me i’m not myself “

he tried to bury his head further in your chest

“ when I want quiet everyones loud and I —I never noticed how loud i am —how loud everything is until I stopped talking and I hate it —I hate how loud everything is “

you sighed as his fingers ran along your thigh “ I thought if I followed you out here to watch a movie I would be comfortable “

his voice was sad “ I just wanted to come out here and watch a movie with my girlfriend but “

your hand running over his shoulders and back up finding a hold in his hair

“ I just got more pissed off when you actually started talking I just expected —if no one else could be quiet then you would “

“ well i’m sorry I wasn’t quiet “

“ you shouldn’t have to be not cause I want you to be“

“ that’s right “

“ I know “ he took a deep breath looking up at

“ I know you think i’m an asshole now because you’ve seen this side of me—the angry one but “

“ I don’t think your an asshole or you’d be sitting in bakugous room right now crying that there’s lemon juice in your eyes “

his mouth shut instantly as he stared at you in fear your thumb running circles over his cheek

“ h-how can say something like that and “ he shook his head “ that’s so manly god I love you so much “

“ I love you too but —you have to tell me things kiri I can’t just “

you flicked his forehead as he crinkled his nose in pain “ I can’t just read your big brain”

“ but you did it just now “

“ huh “

“ all I wanted was for you to hug me and like shower me in kisses to calm me down and you “

he kissed your forehead “ you did it —which kinda had me confused on how you knew me so well “

you laughed “ you looked sad —upset and I wanted to remind you that I was still here regardless of how you feel —you cat push me away that easily “

he smiled widely as you two felt heat radiate through your bodies

“ I really do love you baby months or years or days I love how well you know me”

your mouth opening to laugh as you cuddled into his neck

“ guys kirishimas fine “ denkis voice made the both of you shake

“ I told you he just wanted some attention from y/n —guys he just has a small case of simptitis “

your head turned quickly as you seen the shaking boy beneath you “ uh your room “

“ my room “

#kirishima fluff #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #bnha eijirou #eijiro kirishima x y/n #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima headcanons #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou #bakugou headcanons #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha katsuki #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugō #katsuki x you #bnha katsuki x reader #mha shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou fluff

[blackberd]

We’re All We’ve Got

- - - - -

@who-is-a-heretic-now I know I’m a tad late, but hope you enjoy this drabble! Can’t ever go wrong with Jerome bonding with animals. Exploring this side of him some more was incredibly insightful, thanks for the prompt!

- - - - -

Jerome felt restless all night. His mind was too caught up with his plan to escape Arkham Asylum for once and for all. He could’ve left at any given moment, but Jerome was a perfectionist and ever the showman. Everything had to be just right for him to pull off the greatest show of the lifetime.

He laid in the dark over the covers of his bed. With his eyes closed, his fingers drummed a rhythmical beat against his stomach while he swam around in his thoughts.

It was never totally quiet at Arkham, there was always some commotion going on down the hall, someone laughing, or crying, or whaling, but Jerome learned to ignore them all. It was easy, his mother made more noise during the circus days.

He rolled his eyes, pushing the memory of her to the back of his head. Even in death she still managed to get under his skin. With a grunt, he spun onto his side and tried to dive back into his strategy-building.

A new sound piqued his interest. It was coming from the corner of his cell. A scratching, some distinct rapid movement.

His eyes narrowed in the dark, his fingers clutched the sharp razor blade he kept under his flat pillow.

Then, he heard a soft squeaking and his muscles instantly relaxed. He was well familiar with the sound of a squeaking mouse. Mice used to hide in the hay he’d feed the circus animals. Sometimes they’d make a nest for themselves, raise entire families. He was ordered to kill them whenever he’d spot them. They were, after all, vermin, but Jerome never did such a thing. He’d chase them out into the night. If they were stubborn, he’d catch them by the tails and release them far away from the circus grounds. It’s not that his heart was exceptionally big towards vermin… but he, himself, was vermin to many people, and in a way, he understood them completely.

Flicking on the single lightbulb they’ve supplied him with, Jerome waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. In the far corner, he saw no mouse, but he wasn’t stupid. There was a mouse in his cell and it was hiding.

Pulling himself up to his feet, he knelt by the tiny hole in the wall and grinned to himself.

Mouse droppings. A small mouse, then, Jerome mused to himself, and it was scared.

“Out you come, little fella,” he said quietly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

He stayed this way for a few minutes, but the squeaking didn’t return. He sighed, but he wasn’t going to give up. Food at Arkham was shit, but Jerome had a knack for the salted crackers they’d offer whenever soup was on the menu. He’d never drink the soup – he hated soup – but he made sure to stock up on those crackers though. They made for a most excellent midnight snack.

He crumbled half a cracker by the opening in the wall and proceeded to lay on his stomach, facing it. The ground was cold, making Jerome shiver involuntarily, but he wasn’t planning on moving away. While he waited for the mouse to return, his thoughts soared. Funny, how people never truly change. Jerome was using the tactic he always used whenever he attempted to gain the trust of an animal. He had to admit to himself that he loved this part - the waiting part. To win the trust of an animal is no small accomplishment. An animal bases everything it does on basic animal instinct. It can decide whether or not you mean them harm by your smell, your stance, or your eyes. It’s why Jerome was on his stomach. It’s why he offered it food in a proclamation of peace. It’s why he didn’t force it to come out before it was ready to. An animal will never approach those they don’t trust, but they have always – always – trusted Jerome.

Pillowing his chin over his folded arms, he waited patiently, vaguely listening to the man hysterically crying a few cells away because he was denied his meds. It was the same episode every night; Jerome rehearsed it all line-by-line by now.

Arkham is so… boring.

The scratching sounds of tiny, shuffling feet returned. Jerome perked up and held his breath. When a tiny pink nose poked out to curiously sniff the crumbles, Jerome grinned.

He watched it silently at first, lazily dropping his head to one side as he watched the mouse satisfy its hunger. The more it ate, the more he saw of its little white face. Its eyes were wide and black with fear, staring back at Jerome as though it was Death greeting it.

Jerome knew how to handle frightened little critters. He might not have dealt with animals daily anymore, but it was embedded in him like coded intuition. He couldn’t turn a blind eye on this mouse now that he knew it was there. Animals were once his only companions, he owed them a lot. Exhibiting some kindness towards them was the least he could offer them in return.

Once the mouse finished its small portion, it eagerly sniffed for more. Jerome crushed the other half of the cracker and crumbled it a bit farther away from the hole, urging the mouse out of the shadows.

It scurried away from him, but Jerome expected that. It’d be back, but at least it now got to know the hand feeding it. Perhaps it could understand that Jerome meant it no harm.

“You gotta come out sooner or later,” Jerome said, yawning into the sleeve of his uniform. “I’m not going anywhere so you might as well get it over with.”

One minute… Two, Three…

The pink nose came back, and Jerome stifled a small chuckle.

“Y’know,” he started amiably. “It’s always surprised me how much you mice eat. You never stop. Where do you put it all?”

The mouse, of course, didn’t reply. With the food farther away and more towards Jerome, the mouse hesitated to approach it. It never blinked away from the giant man watching it closely. Jerome hummed to himself.

“Told you I’m not gonna hurt ya. I get how it feels, to be so small in a world so ready to beat you down. It ain’t nice, but that’s what vermin like us get in a world like this. You can’t spend all your life in a dark hole, can you? You gotta leave the shadows eventually.”

Slowly, the mouse drew nearer, but it was still prepared to flee should Jerome so much as blink the wrong way.

“See? Much better,” he commended, as though the mouse would understand the encouragement. “It’s different in the light, isn’t it? More freeing. I bet that same cracker tastes better out here, too.”

The more the minutes ticked by, the less tense the mouse got. It began to lower its head from Jerome, allowing a few seconds to pass without maintaining direct eye contact. This was progress, and Jerome was thrilled.

When the mouse sniffed around for more food, Jerome held a piece of cracker up between his fingers. No more floor-feeding. He needed to get the mouse to come closer.

“Come on, you know you want it,” Jerome tempted with a quirked brow. “A mouse is never full, remember?”

Minutes ticked by again, and the mouse kept performing its scurrying dance.

“You’re killing me, Mousy,” Jerome sighed. “If you don’t eat from my hand then I’ll be forced to enjoy this bland cracker myself. Know what that means? None left for you. And whose fault do you think that’ll be?”

As though it understood the mild, underlying threat, the mouse finally kicked itself towards Jerome’s extended hand and proceeded to munch away at the cracker. Jerome smiled to himself.

“How’d you even find your way into this loony bin, huh? Unless you’re one of us, of course. Ever committed murder and pled insanity?”

Silence. The mouse continued eating like there was no tomorrow.

Jerome snorted. “Nah. You’re probably the sanest creature in here. And, buddy, that says a lot!”

The mouse jerked at Jerome’s sudden cackle. Jerome muffled his laughter and threw the mouse an apologetic look… at least, the best he could muster.

“Pardon my excitement. I don’t normally get visitors around here, y’know?”

Gradually, the mouse inched its way back to finish up the last bit of cracker left. When all was gone, it sniffed Jerome’s fingers before looking up expectantly.

Jerome shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, fatty. You had the whole thing and didn’t even share.”

Sensing the mouse’s calmness, he moved a finger against its puffy cheek. The mouse didn’t run away, it allowed it.

“Whether you’re criminally insane or not, you shouldn’t be in here,” Jerome said quietly, running his finger over the mouse’s rounded ears. “No one here will be willing to feed ya at all hours of the night, let alone allow you to roam free wherever you please.” A soft frown drew between his brows. “Come to think of it, Mousy, you won’t find kindness like that no matter where you go. It’s a shame you’re vermin.”

The mouse panicked when Jerome gently scooped it up between two hands. He held it securely so that it wouldn’t fall or hurt itself.

“Shh… Quit squirming, stupid,” Jerome muttered, trying to calm it again by softly petting its head. “I’m vermin like you, remember? I’m not gonna hurt you. There… good,” he said when the mouse finally stopped trying to escape and instead looked at Jerome questioningly.

Jerome returned to his cot and propped his pillow up against the wall. Stretching his legs out, he set the mouse atop his chest and let his heavy eyelids fall. He wasn’t holding onto the mouse as securely anymore. He granted it space to move around and could feel it sniffing his hands and shirt. He knew it wouldn’t run away now, not when it associated Jerome with food, comfort, and safety.

“Just tonight,” Jerome said, his voice coated with sleep. “Tomorrow I’m setting you free beyond the Asylum walls. It’s no place for vermin in here, Mousy, I told you. You’ll never survive. As for me… well, I don’t plan on staying here for much longer either. It’s a lot more depressing than you think. Who knows, we might just bump into one another on the other side someday. After all, us vermin should stick together. We’re all we’ve got.”

#gotham #jerome valeska #joker #drabble #fanfiction #he’s a meanie but his heart’s in the right place... kind of

[undergroundkid]

8. The serene intensity

During day shifts, you weren’t alone at least. The ever-exciting presence of Yoonho’s was absent since he somehow was busy all your shift, but at least you had the new intern standing at the front desk. What your hotel porter was doing in such a lazy day was far beyond you – Yoonho usually sat during these shifts alongside you on the reception, throwing jokes back and forth.  You had a feeling in your gut that he was avoiding you, not quite sure why, but the way he disappeared the moment you stepped into the hotel was suspicious. Was he still angry about the day you ditched him for the piano music? Geez, this little boy and his attitude.. On the second hand, you could sit alone in the back of the reception without the annoying nagging of your coworker. His always happy persona would quickly pick up your different aura and you surely weren’t ready to explain the cause of it.

His hand gripped your waist, not letting you shy away from his body. The second one entangled in your messy locks held your head steady, leaving you defenseless to his conquering lips. Your fingertips brushed against male’s shirt, dry skin on soft material, not quite sure if the gesture was one of decline, acceptance or astonishment – what to think, or more importantly, how to think when you are kissed with such a passion?

You massaged your temples, giving up on the documents spread before you on the desk. The letters had no meaning, just empty graphics without any sense of all. The only thing picking up your interest was the color of the furniture; mahogany brown, just like the one from apartment 402.

He pushed you against the desk, pinning you to the surface with one motion of his hips. You gasped, which allowed him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. He moved smoothly and confidently, trained well in this old, carnival dance. - Mr. Changkyun – a quiet murmur was all you got, breathless from not so simple kiss. He shushed you somewhere between kisses alongside your neck, but when you repeated his name once again – this time stronger, magically gripping the reality of the situation, he shoved two fingers into your mouth. - Shh, little doe – his voice poured straight to your core, starting the fire when his teeth grazed your ear:- Let me show you what you’re missing hiding in the forest all the time, yeah?

Previous night’s images were playing in your head in a loop, stuck on forever replay. The whole building was too heavy, not spacious enough for you and your hazy head full of fresh memories. You could feel how sticky your blouse was already. It was barely 5 PM, still a few hours away from shredding your uniform.

He pushed your sweater high enough to shower your stomach with brief kisses, biting at your waistline. Not enough to dive himself into your breasts though, so he almost tore the clothing away.

Your manager will bite your head off for lack of work today, that’s for sure.

He pulled down the straps of your bra with his teeth, softly dropping it on the floor. Shivers ran through your topless torso, more of excitement than coldness; you let his hands map your body, feeling oddly safe. You could only think about how he still had his shirt on, no second thoughts about the whole situation. The freshness of being intimate with someone again gave you a high feeling, a light chest full of short breaths, and sudden strength to bow your spine seductively. You pulled at his shirt impatiently, wanting to feel his skin on yours, but at this moment all his focus was set on the zipper of your pants. Your quiet whines finally caught his attention after he discarded your jeans and by the way he smirked, you were pretty sure he was aware of your request all this time. - Something’s wrong? – he questioned, gently stroking your lower abdomen with the back of his hand; the other one playing with the hem of your panties. You gripped his shirt, hoping it would be enough for an answer, but he snapped your underwear disapprovingly. His dark eyes looked expectantly at you, fully prepared to drag this out if you won’t cooperate. - Can you.. can you take your shirt off? – you asked, a new set of fire consuming your face, so you tried to hide it behind an added plea:- Please? He took it off without hesitation with barely audible ‘not that hard, hm?’. You were drawn to the exposed skin immediately, hands softly grazing his chest.

You opened the few buttons of your blouse, the need for cooling off stronger than work ethic. Carefully looking at your reflection in the glass of the nearby shelf, you looked presentable; hair surprisingly neatly, no wrinkles on the shirt. But the shame filled you from head to toe.

- You have to tell me – he said, tone still, even if his fingers were all but still; pumping into your core with ferocity. Squishy sounds were loud in your ears, almost drowning his request. The ecstasy of his touch was unbearable, mind hazy, nails scratching male’s arms. You could only respond in a whine, lost between wild want and embarrassment of being exposed. Nude, eager and filthy; you are filthy, what the heck are you doing, but god damn his fingers, oh my god oh my god oh my- He stopped, his hands disappearing without any warning. - No! – your id squeaked and continued, despite the superego laments:- No, no, why you stopped? - I said you have to tell me – Im drew circles on your stomach with his wet fingers, then around your breasts, cleavage and paused at your collarbones. His eyes finally met your desperate gaze:- What are you waiting for, baby? You barely recognized his words were the same as an hour ago. The very same people but a dissimilar situation, unalike aura –and so your mind, contrasting to blank mindset back then, now full of lust, loud as thunder. Muting your morals, you said loud and clear: - You. I want you.

You can’t blame this on anybody else; shit, you gave him all your consent.

- Do you? His question wasn’t what you were expecting. Changkyun pulled your right hand, pointing at the wrist scarred with tattoo ink. - You say it’s me, but you came here with this awful mark.. When he first saw your tattoo in the reception, he was disgusted, but at this moment you swear you could almost say he’s hurt. Why though? Why is he so touchy about it? Your body’s hunger didn’t want to wait and listen to the pointless conversation. All you could do was to mewl with dissatisfaction, rubbing your thigs together for comfort. Your partner agreed with a groan. - But you can feel it, right? Stronger than whatever poison this bastard gashed you with – Im kissed you, dropping your hand, he searched for something behind your figure.  His kisses were deep and breathtaking, spinning you straight into blissful numbness. You felt cold material around your hand. - Just me and you – he whispered against your lips, showing you how he tied up your and his wrists together.

Thinking about it with a clear head now, it wasn’t just about how you gave him consent. More humiliating to you was actually how you enjoyed it.

His hips came flush to yours at a constant pace with your ragged breaths. - Look at me – he demanded:- Look at me and tell me, who makes you sing like this, Missy? Muffled ‘you’ fell from your mouth somewhere between ecstatic gasps. You were ready to tell whatever it takes for him to keep up the sweet feeling of fullness. Your womanhood drowned in the euphoria of long-forgotten attention. When was the last time..? - That’s right, that’s right.. – Im laced fingers with yours and together you gripped your knee, letting him dive deeper into you. The silk scarf wrapped tightly around both your wrists felt shockingly cold on your hot skin. Your stomach twisted and tightened up, drawing a hiss from your partner. - Shit – he murmured, clashing your lips again and speeding up his rhythm. You started to mumble nonsense into his skin, losing the balance of reality. More more more.. - Come with me, little doe, come on – his voice lurked you into leaping into madness, orgasmic waves eating you up, mouth opening up in silent scream. With closed eyes you let your mind leave your body, lost in the time and space, pleasure being the only felt sensation.

As euphoric and fantastic was your encounter, you quickly came back to realization – you slept with your guest. It didn’t hit you right away, of course, you were way too smitten with his body on top of yours and kisses shared right after; but when he left to the bathroom, you simply panicked.  So you dressed up hastily and almost ran out of the hotel, taking the back exit in fear of meeting any coworker. Now, just the day after, you hide in the backroom, wishing to stay there your whole shift. Where went all your professionalism that you’re so damn proud of? Straight outta window surely, because you needed only a little attention to fully submit. To a guest. Your client. Pretty much stranger. Shameful and filthy, full of regret, but still thinking – about his scent, smoky but rich incense; about hints of wine on his tongue when he moaned during your orgasms; about his long fingers, firmly gripping yours, scarf connecting your wrists skin to skin. How wonderful it felt to be desired again, by a handsome man nonetheless.. or was it just a game for him? The silly receptionist bought trick with a time-stopping lighter? What was worse? It shouldn’t have happened. Your parents would probably kick you out with distaste. Your boss? The number of glares from coworkers, gossip following you everywhere? You stupid girl, you forgot everything so easily, you can lose it all- - Miss Y/N? You nearly jumped, the unexpected voice from the intern harshly pulling you back to reality. - Oh, sorry! – she swiftly apologized, uneasiness painting her ears scarlet:- I thought you will have a spare minute! S-sorry, I will take care of it! - No, no, it’s okay – you scolded yourself for drifting away so carelessly:- What is it? Do you need any help? - Uhh, kind of – her eyes snapped nervously back to the reception:- I mean, there’s new guest.. I booked him, the procedure says we should carry his luggage but I can’t reach the porter.. - Damn Yoonho – with a shake of your head, you stood up and headed towards the front desk:- What is he doing, lacking off like this? - I’m sure he has something to do, Miss! – her hurried response and fluttering lashes gave you some hints about reasons for her heroic defense of said boy:- Please don’t yell at him later.. After a few seconds of silence, you responded with a sigh. - Only because you asked me to. Try to look for a better catch though, okay? At least more reliable than him – she giggled at your words, mumbling something about how it’s not like that, but you knew better. The shy shuffling of her feet told you everything. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile; innocent crush. They’re so young and cute it’s making you feel really old. You stepped into reception without further thinking, leaving embarrassing memories behind you with the hope of not meeting your fears immediately. Thankfully, the place was quiet – the only figure was the new guest absorbed in his smartphone. He was young, despite the first impression – the grey hair must’ve been dyed. He hid his features behind the facemask. He worn sports clothes, kind of baggy and you weren’t sure if that’s just his style or he’s some celebrity trying hard to blend in. You spotted a gym bag next to him, not really the big one. You were ready to inform the intern it’s not necessary to take the luggage, but then you spotted the black business card in his hand. Instantly you straightened up, nerves kicking in. - Good afternoon, sir – you greeted him with a polite voice and despite you seriously didn’t want to, you offered:- Let me assist you to your apartment.

thank you for reading

< previous

next >

#My writing #my works #shangri-la fc #Monsta X #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x reader #im changkyun you hot bastard #im changkyun x reader #im changkyun imagine

[sgtcalhouns]

Hero

i was feeling some angst?? so here you go. this is just a one-shot that i will probably not expand on, in this au tamora is a firefighter and felix is her very anxious and worried husband. enjoy!

“Sir, please stand back.”

“Please, my wife is in there. I have to make sure she’s alright.”

“I understand that, but this area is not safe for civilians. I need you to stand back.”

Felix took a hesitant couple of steps back from the police squad that stood blocked his path. Before him blazed a raging fire, and his heart constricted at the thought of Tamora inside that building. Normally, this wouldn’t be cause for concern; although her occupation as a firefighter was not good for his blood pressure, Felix knew that she was trained to deal with these situations. But tonight, he could tell that something was wrong. It didn’t normally take this long for her team to extinguish a fire, and as time passed, the flames only seemed to increase.

He had come here tonight hoping to apologize to Tamora. They had gotten into an argument before she left for work—an argument that, coincidentally enough, was centered on her occupation. It caused Felix a lot of stress and worry to know that his wife was going off to such a dangerous job every day, and he had asked her if she would ever consider doing something else. Their conversation had escalated from there, ending with a door in his face as she left for the night. Now, he worried he may never get the chance to patch things up with her.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the building as it burned, sending thick, black clouds of smoke into the night sky. His nail beds were nonexistent at this point, but that didn’t stop him from biting at what was left—anything to try and calm his frayed nerves. What was left of the establishment groaned as its structural integrity became compromised; it was too weak to support its own weight, and it would come crashing down any minute. A large group of firemen ran out of the building, and Felix’s heart beat wildly in his chest as he eyed each one, searching frantically for Tamora. He recognized one of them as Tamora’s best friend.

“Kohut,” he said, grabbing the familiar man as he passed by. There was a noticeable desperation in his voice as he posed one of the most important questions he would ever ask. “Where is she?”

“She’s still inside,” Kohut answered. He cringed at the pain in Felix’s expression as he spoke. “We’ve been trying to get in contact with her, but we haven’t heard back in a couple of minutes.”

A quiet sob slipped past Felix’s lips as he spoke. 

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Kohut said.

“You don’t understand. We had an argument before she left for work today,” Felix said, his tears quickly getting the best of him. “Every day I tell her I love her when she leaves, but today she was angry and I—I didn’t tell her. I have to go find her and tell her how much she means to me, she has to know how much I love her—”

Felix turned back toward the fire, but was unable to step any closer as Kohut grabbed him.

“Whoa, hey, you can’t run in there. If you do that, you’ll be toast long before you make it to her,” he said, speaking calmly as he tried to get through to Felix. “Look, every couple fights sometimes. I’m sure she knows that you love her.”

“I can’t lose her, Kohut,” Felix whimpered. “I don’t know how to live without her.”

“This is Calhoun we’re talking about,” Kohut said comfortingly. “If anyone can make it out of there, it’s her.”

A loud crash interrupted their conversation, and Felix turned just in time to see the building cave in on itself. Within seconds, it was all gone—the building, his love, his life—flattened within seconds. Kohut had to wrap his arms around Felix to keep him from running toward the debris in search of what they all knew, deep down, could not be there. He fought back, kicking and screaming in an attempt to break free. Kohut had only heard such a terrible scream once before, when he had held Tamora back from running into a similar disaster, chasing after a lost love.

After a moment, Felix tired himself out and stopped struggling, and Kohut released him. He collapsed on his knees, sobbing so loudly that it drew the attention of everyone around him, but he didn’t care. Everything he cared about was in the pile of ashes and fading embers that had finally been extinguished. 

Behind him, someone called for a medic. He could feel the commotion around him as emergency responders rushed off to their respective duties, but he was too consumed by grief to pay it any mind. A gasp spread through the crowd as bystanders began talking amongst themselves, their attention focused once more on the scene before them. All the while, Felix knelt on the ground, crying into his hands and trying to figure out how he was supposed to go about his life without the person who had brought meaning to it.

“Felix.”

He heard it loud and clear, but he ignored Kohut’s attempt to get his attention. He didn’t have the energy to hear any encouraging words when his entire life had just fallen apart in front of him. 

“Felix, look.”

He raised his head and saw a lone figure pushing themselves to their feet, brushing off the soot and other fallout that had collected on their clothes. It was a firefighter, he realized, as he recognized the uniform they wore. He slowly got to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed on the stranger. They bent down and grabbed hold of something, and medics rushed to the scene as the crowd noticed that they were pulling another person, a civilian, out of the debris. He looked to Kohut, who looked back with a hopeful expression. Felix couldn’t find it in himself to get his hopes up, though. It wasn’t her. There was no possible way it was Tamora.

Once the fireman made sure that the civilian had begun to receive the proper medical attention, they pulled off their helmet. Felix watched with bated breath, knowing he would fall apart all over again if this was another firefighter who had stayed behind instead of his wife. They tossed their helmet to the ground, and Felix’s heart leapt back into place as he saw the familiar blonde fringe that poked out underneath. He heard her cough as she tried to clear the smoke from her lungs, and tears sprang to his eyes as he heard her voice rasp “I’m fine” to the medics who tried to help her. It was her. It really was her.

No one could stop him from breaking through the crowd and running straight to her. A few nearby police officers tried, but Kohut stepped in to block their path and buy him some time. Felix could hardly see due to the tears that blurred his vision, but he didn’t let it slow him down. He was certain he had never run so fast in his entire life.

“Tammy!” he called out to her as he drew near.

“Felix?” she replied, surprised to see him running toward her—he had never showed up to see her at work like this before, and she hated knowing what he had just witnessed.

He didn’t say anything in response, instead launching himself forward and wrapping his arms around her middle in a tight hug. His body shook with sobs as he clung to her and buried his face in her chest. She returned his embrace, releasing a shuddering sigh of relief.

“Oh, Tammy,” he said, the sound muffled against her uniform. “I thought I lost you.”

His voice became weak as he finished his sentence, his throat tightening as he reflected on how close he had really been to losing her.

“It’s okay,” she said, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. “I’m here, and I’m just fine.”

They stayed wrapped around each other for quite some time before all the fear and grief had worked its way out of their systems. Felix hesitated to pull away from her out of worry that she might vanish into thin air if he let go. Eventually, he pulled his face away from her chest to look into her eyes.

“I’m so sorry about our fight,” he said, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t believe I let you walk out the door without telling you how much I love you.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “That’s not important right now.”

“But it is,” he replied. “I came here tonight to apologize to you. When I saw that building come crashing down, when I thought I would never see you again, all I could think about was how foolish I had been to let a silly disagreement stop me from making sure you know that I love you.”

“I know you do, Felix,” she said. “I could never forget.”

“I need you to know that you are the most important person in the world to me. I don’t know how I would go on if I lost you,” he said, getting choked up again at the thought.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she said, gently wiping away his tears. “You don’t have to worry about that. You didn’t lose me, and you’re not going to lose me. It’s going to take a lot more than a burning building to take me away from you.”

Felix nodded as a new batch of tears poured from his eyes. Tamora pulled him back into her chest and rubbed his back as he cried. 

“I just can’t stop remembering how it felt when I thought—”

“I know,” she said softly, cutting in when she heard his voice grow tight. 

She understood better than most how difficult it was to stop reliving those moments of loss, but she also knew that she could help him move past this. He had put in plenty of hours sitting up with her as she cried after a nightmare, and now it was time for her to return the favor. She tightened her arms around him and he nuzzled into her chest as he finally began to calm down. 

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I know,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I love you, too.”

They eventually separated long enough for an EMT to take a look at Tamora, though Felix hovered nearby as they examined her. In some sort of miracle, she suffered no major injuries, although there was a fair amount of bruising on her arms and torso. She and Felix were settled in the back of an ambulance with their legs hanging over the edge, sharing the blanket that had been provided to her.

“I’m sorry, Tammy,” Felix said.

“For what?” she asked.

“For asking you to give this up,” he replied. “I was so focused on my own worry that I wasn’t thinking about how much this job means to you.”

“Maybe you were right to worry,” she said.

“I would worry about you no matter what you did for a living,” he said. “If you were a librarian, I’d worry about paper cuts. I’m always going to worry about you because I love you.”

Tamora reached for his hand and he smiled.

“I let myself forget that this is part of why I fell in love with you. You saved someone’s life today—you’re a hero,” he explained. “It was selfish of me to ask you to change that.”

“I’m not a hero,” she said, brushing off his compliment. “I’m just doing what every other firefighter did out here tonight. I’m not special for doing my job.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied. “When everyone else ran out of that building, you stayed behind, and someone else is still alive because of it. You go above and beyond what’s expected of you.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m a hero,” she said.

“But you are.”

“No, I’m not,” she said. “No one else out here would call me a hero.”

“I know of at least one person here tonight who would call you a hero,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “Who?

“Me.”

“Come on, Felix, be serious,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“I am being serious,” he said. “You’re the bravest, most selfless person I know. That sounds like a hero to me.”

“Come here,” she said, shaking her head in amusement.

She pulled him close and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. 

“I love you,” she smiled.

“I love you, too,” he said.

Felix looked at her for a moment, reflecting on how lucky he was. Earlier tonight he thought he had lost this woman forever, and now she was sitting beside him, holding his hand and smiling and telling him she loved him. A familiar warmth spread through his chest as she laced their fingers together, and he couldn’t help but swoon.

“My hero.”

#hero's cuties #wir fanfiction #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #sgt calhoun #my fic #IM SORRY FELIX i always put u through so much emotional turmoil

[themadlostgirl]

NDY AU (4)

*I am gonna just dive into all the cliches I didn’t get to or wouldn’t write in the NDY canon.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

I couldn’t wait to finish work so I could go home and do my homework with Peter. By some miracle the parents showed up a bit earlier then they usually did so I had more time to get home. I ran back to my house and started tidying up my room and changing out of my uniform before Peter showed up.

I saw his hoodie on my coat hook and debated for a moment before slipping it on over my t-shirt. I wonder if he would notice. There was a knock on the door and I raced downstairs. Peter was on the other side clad back in casual attire and bag over his shoulder.

“Hey, come on in,” I stepped aside so he could enter.

“Thanks,” he looked around impressed before his eyes landed back on me, “Nice hoodie.”

“This old thing?” I tugged on the sleeves. “Did you want it back?”

“Hell no.” he flipped the hood over my head, “Looks much better on you.”

“Let’s get to work, dork.” We walked up to my room and I tried to keep my face straight as we sat down on my bed. We stretched out on opposite sides of the bed so I was propped up by the headboard and him the headboard. I pulled out my algebra homework while Peter started on his book report. The comfortable silence felt like our time in the trailer again.

Every now and again I would peer up from my work to look at Peter at the other side of the bed. He was intently focused on what he was writing in his notebook. One time when I looked up he was looking at me. He gave me a small wink and I buried my face behind my textbook. I heard him chuckle and my face burned hotter. I am going to kill this guy for making me feel this

“And I am done.” I announced after I finally finished the last question on my homework.

“Finally.” Peter closed his notebook. “I was starting to think all this study date was going to amount to was actual work.”

“Are you done with your report?” I asked.

“I wrote that while you were out babysitting.” he pulled out a different notebook and showed me the three pages of his report. Front and back.

“You did all of that in an hour and a half?” I scanned over the report.

“I’m a fast worker.” he shrugged.

“Then what have you been doing all this time?” I glanced at the other notebook in his lap.

He cocked an eyebrow up at me with that devious smirk and opened the notebook up before handing it to me. What I saw made my insides flutter like a hundred mad butterflies wanted to break free. It was an immaculate portrait of myself. My eyes were intently focused on something out of the frame of the page.

“Whoa…” I looked back up at Peter, “You drew me?”

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing.” I smiled, “You’re really talented.”

“Just a lot of practice.” he tore the page out, “You can keep it if you want.”

“Thank you.” I took the portrait again and set it on my bedside table. “Can I see what else you’ve drawn?”

“Sure,” he scooted over to my side of the bed so we were pressed shoulder to shoulder. I flipped through his notebook and pointed out the ones I really liked. There was everything from nature and animals to street views and unassuming characters.

I laid my head on his shoulder. It was kinda amazing how quickly I fell into such ease with him. It was like I had known him for years.

He placed a kiss on the top of my head. I stopped flipping through the drawings and looked at Peter. His smile slipped a moment and he leaned away from me. “Sorry,” he said, “Was that too much?”

“Not at all.” I played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Can I have another one?”

His smile perked back up as he kissed my forehead again. I shook my head and tilted his head lower. My eyes flickered down to his lips betraying what I really wanted. When I met his gaze again he raised his eyebrows as if asking permission.

“Peter…” I whispered against his lips, “Really kiss me?”

“If you wish it.” His face came closer and my eyes slid shut as his lips met mine.

When we pulled away I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling like a love-sick moron.

He brushed a thumb across my lip, “Your lips are softer than I imagined.” he murmured.

“You imagined kissing me?” It was my time to raise my eyebrows.

“Hard not to…” he leaned in for another.

Then the sound of a car pulling into the garage made me freeze. “Shit.” I shot off the bed, “That’s my parents. I thought they wouldn’t be home till later.”

“What do you want me to do?” Peter wasn’t nearly as panicked as I was but then again there wasn’t much my parents could do to him except kick him out of the house. If I get caught with a boy in my room--the same boy I got in trouble for hanging out with yesterday--I would be grounded until I was dead.

“Under the bed,” I threw his bag under and he followed suit. Not the best hiding place I know but I didn’t have any better options at the moment!

“This is cozy,” I heard him mutter.

“Shut up!” I hissed. I pulled the bedskirt down as far as it would go before grabbing the nearest book and pretending to read.

A minute later my mom entered the room. “Hello darling,” she sighed, “How are you?”

“Good.” I answered, my heart beating a mile a minute, “Why are you and dad home so early? I thought you were having date night?”

“We were until your father accidentally ate some shrimp and I had to stab him with an epi-pen. Kinda took the romance out of the evening so we decided to come home.” She sat down on the bed. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Doing homework, reading,” Kissing boys that you and dad despise. Nothing out of the ordinary here! “Which I would like to be getting back to if you don’t mind.”

“Sweetheart,” she took the book out of my hands and set it aside, “Are you mad at us for yelling at you yesterday?”

“No.”

“You know it’s only because we care. Your behaviour yesterday wasn’t like you at all. Skipping school, hanging out with that boy, lying to us. Is there something wrong?”

“No mom,” I sighed, “Nothing is wrong.”

“Okay.” she stood up again. “Good night.”

“Night.” I muttered as she swept out of the room again. Still as loving as ever mother.

A hand shot out from underneath the bed grabbing my ankle. I almost screamed before I remembered it was Peter hiding under there.

“What’s that in the mirror or the corner of your eye? What’s that footstep following but never passing by?”

“Shh!” I kicked my ankle away, “Now is not the time for Doctor Who callbacks!”

“Perhaps they’re all just waiting. Perhaps when we’re all dead.” I leaned over the bed and lifted up the skirt to see him, “Out they’ll come a slithering from underneath the bed!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You saying you’re not scared of this monster under the bed?”

“I actually think he’s kinda cute when he’s not being a dummy.” I smirked.

“Don’t make me jealous now.” He kissed my nose, “Can I come out now?”

“And do what? There’s no way to get you out of the house without my parents noticing.”

“What are we gonna do then?”

“I don’t know.” he pulled himself out from under the bed. I got up to lock the door so we wouldn’t have any interruption. “I should have known something like this was going to happen.”

“Well I don’t have anywhere to be.” he wrapped his arms around me, “What time do your parents go to bed?”

“Ten usually.”

“That gives us a little less than four hours to hang out.” he grinned, “I think that’s something to celebrate.”

“And what exactly are we going to do stuck in my room for four hours?”

“Well…” His eyes drifted down to my lips, “I have an idea.”

We relaxed on my bed exchanging small kisses as we talked and laughed. There was only a couple times when I heard my parents shuffle past the door where I had to shove Peter back under the bed. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed us some snacks to tide us over until nighttime.

The time flew by and soon my parents were tucked into their room not to emerge till their alarm clock went off in the morning. Not that Peter and I noticed or if we did we didn’t care. We were snuggled on my bed with snacks and the soft murmur of music playing in the background. There was something buzzing in the air that kept us awake as midnight came and went.

I started to nod off and leaned over to turn off the lights and go to bed. At three in the morning. With Peter still in the house. In my bed. With no alarm. I imagine only good things will come of this.

(1) (2) (3) (5)

#peter pan ouat #ouat peter pan #ouat #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Not According to Plan

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Rating: PG-13/T

Original Idea: Ant-Man and the Wasp, I guess

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I’m not sure what this is, apart from long. It’s just kinda one one of those that’s a bit of a word-vomit... @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

Dick scooped Mary out of her bed while I picked up her packed backpack and my and my husband’s duffel bags for the mission. We left our apartment and headed down to the garage, where Dick buckled our daughter into her car seat. We started driving from Blüdhaven to Gotham. The outskirts of Gotham, more accurately. The Palisades.

Wayne Manor.

“I hate this,” I muttered while Dick drove the semi-abandoned freeway.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said. “But it’ll just be a couple days. And she loves staying with Great-Grampa Alfred, Grampa Bruce, and Uncle Damian. It’ll be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I hate more than leaving our girl it’s leaving her in the middle of the night without saying a proper goodbye.”

Dick let go of the steering wheel with one hand to take mine. “I know babe. But it’ll be easy. Quick in-and-out. The whole mission will take us three days, max. And Mary will be having so much fun with Uncle Damian and all his pets that she’ll barely notice we’re gone,” he said.

I sighed. “I guess you’re right,” I said.

“I know it’s your self-proclaimed job in our family to worry about everything, but just relax a little bit, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When we arrived at Wayne Manor, Damian was waiting for us on the front stairs. He was still in his Robin uniform so he must have just gotten back from patrol. Dick got Mary out of her car seat while I got her bag. Damian accepted both, slinging the strap over his shoulder and curling his niece into his arms.

“What shall I tell her if she asks where you’ve gone?” he asked.

“Tell her that we’ve gone to Coast City for Mommy’s work and we’ll be back soon,” I said.

“And tell her that we love her,” Dick added.

“Yes. Please do.”

“Of course,” Damian said.

“And take good care of our girl, okay? You, Bruce, and Alfred,” I said.

“Of course, Mrs. Grayson.” He nodded to Dick. “Richard.”

Dick smiled. “Thanks kiddo. We’ll be back in a couple days. Max. You won’t even have time to miss us.”

“Tt. We shall see,” Damian said.

Dick put his arm around my shoulders. “We need to get going. We’ll see you soon. Thanks for this, little bird.”

Damian nodded. “Good luck.”

I nodded. “Thanks Damian. We’ll need it.”

After each of us kissed our daughter’s cheek, Dick and I slid back into the car and headed off for our mission.

^^^^^

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

I dragged Nightwing behind a heavy concrete pillar. His limp form was trailing blood. “Nightwing! C’mon! Wake up! Please, baby!”

His eyelids fluttered open. “Heeey sweetheart,” he said. His voice was breathy and exhausted. “I… I don’t think this went according to plan.”

“No. No it didn’t,” I said.

“Babe… I can feel myself checking out.”

“No! Nonononono! You can’t! Please! Mary needs you. I need you.”

He reached one bloody glove up and rested it on my cheek. “Tell Mary… her dada loves her,” he said.

“No. You’re gonna be fine, Nightwing. You’re gonna pull through this. Like you always do!”

“Not this time, honey. I… I love you too. My love. My one and only. My greatest adventure has been our family. I love you.”

His eyelids fluttered shut and he grew heavy in my arms.

“Dick? Dick? NO!” I shrieked. I checked Dick’s pulse. Nothing.

I wept, wave after wave of my powers exploding out of me as my heart wrenched.

^^^^^

Damian knocked on the door to the room in Wayne Manor that used to be Dick’s—and then Dick’s and mine. I was curled up on the edge of the bed, weeping. Damian was sweaty and in his Robin uniform—fresh off patrol. “Are you alright, Mrs. Grayson?” he asked.

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “No,” I answered.

He cocked his head to the side. “I understand. It hasn’t been long. Is there any particular reason besides the obvious that you are upset?”

I raised a hand and used my powers to bring something out of the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom and let it float through the air to Damian. He caught it with two fingers, stared at it, and then looked at me. “You’re having another child,” he stated.

I nodded. “Our kids are never going to know their father,” I mumbled.

Damian set the test on the dresser and sat next to me on the end of the bed, giving me a hug. “Mary will remember him,” he said. “She’s old enough. But they will know their father was a hero.” He paused. “I miss him too, Mrs. Grayson. Richard was like a second father to me—more so than just a brother. My deepest apologies and sympathies for your loss. I hope you know that I share your grief.”

I nodded. “I know,” I said, hugging him back. “And thanks, Damian.”

“Of course. You know that if you ever need anything, the whole family is here to help.”

I sniffed. “Yeah. I know.”

^^^^^

“Dude,” Tim said, on the phone with someone. “You are going to be so mad at Bruce when you get back.”

“When who gets back?” I asked, picking up my utility belt. Ever since the others found out I was expecting I wasn’t allowed on patrol, but I couldn’t find my chapstick so it was probably in my belt.

“Jason. Bruce sent him to Colorado without all the intel he had,” Tim said.

“Oh. Hi Jason!”

“Mrs. G says ‘Hi Jason.’ … He says hi,” Tim said to me.

^^^^^

One Year Later…

^^^^^

“Listen, Babs, I’d love to have a girl’s weekend but I have two kids to take care of on my own,” I said with my phone crammed between my ear and my shoulder. “Yeah I could drop them off at Bruce’s but the last time I left Mary for more than one night I lost the love of my life. I'm not interested in… Yeah I know it’s not likely to happen again but I just can’t. I'm not ready for that yet… Hey, I just started reconditioning, okay? I did just have a baby a few months ago.”

Speaking of, my infant started crying.

“Shh… shh… it’s okay Peter. Mama’s here. Mama’s got you.” I bounced him on my hip, trying to soothe him. “I gotta go, Babs. I’ll think about it and call you later, but I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Thanks for thinking of me, though.” I hung up the phone and dropped it on the sofa.

Mary bounded out of her room. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

“Mary, shh! For just a moment, okay? Just let me get your brother to stop crying and then you can tell me whatever it is you’re gonna say.”

“Okay,” she said.

I soothed Peter by bouncing him and giving him his pacifier and then turned to my daughter. “Okay. What’s up, honey?”

“I drew us!” she held out a picture made with crayon of four stick figures. Each was distinctly a member of our family, but still labelled. Daddy, Mommy, Me, Baby Pete

I could have broke down in tears right there. She hadn’t seen her dad in a year and still drew him as part of our family with his black hair and blue eyes. She’d inherited his black hair and bright personality. She had my eyes—brown was dominant over blue—but the glint she had in them, the humor and the joy, that was her dad’s.

“Oh sweetie, it’s beautiful. I love it. Should I put it up on the fridge?”

Her smile reminded me of Dick too—just the unbridled happiness. “Yeah!” she said.

With Peter still on my hip I put the drawing on the fridge while Mary babbled to me about a kid in her preschool class not liking the way she drew. “Baby, what that kid thinks doesn’t matter to you. If you like the way you draw, then keep drawing that way, got it?” I said.

“Mmhmm,” Mary said. “Guess what, Mommy?”

“What, baby?”

“I had a dream about you and Daddy last night,” she said. “You were in a building, wearing costumes with masks on. But it was you and Daddy. The building was on fire and you were crying, asking Daddy not to leave you. He was in a black and blue costume but it was covered in blood like the time I fell off the swing at Grampa Bruce’s.”

I froze completely. I’d hoped that I wouldn’t pass on any sort of superpower to my children and with how much they both took after Dick I thought for a long time that I’d gotten lucky and hadn’t passed any meta-gene on. Apparently I was wrong. “That’s… an interesting dream, baby,” I said.

“It felt like it really happened,” Mary said matter-of-factly. “Is that how Daddy died?”

“No, honey. Daddy died while we were on a business trip for Mommy’s work,” I said. It was definitely a lie but she was way too young for me to tell her the truth.

It had taken Dick three years of marriage to convince me to have kids in the first place since I was so scared of them ending up with powers. Now Mary was dreaming about the night her father died.

The doorbell rang, knocking me out of my thought process. I went over to it with Mary leading the way. she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the lock yet though, so I peered through the peephole.

“Uncle Damian,” I said as I opened the door.

“Mrs. Grayson,” he greeted as Mary shouted, “Uncle Damian!” and threw her arms around his legs. He patted her head absentmindedly. “I need you and your children to come with me. Right now.”

I blinked. “Okay. Do I need to—”

“No. Don’t pack anything. We’re just heading to the Manor. But this is urgent.”

I grabbed the diaper bag I kept near the door. “Okay,” I said.

Damian hoisted Mary up onto his hip and jogged down the hallway. I locked the door behind us and followed after him while Peter barbled and pulled on the hair that had escaped my extremely messy bun.

Damian led me and my little family down into the garage of our apartment building. He had one of Bruce’s fancy SUVs—equipped with Peter’s baby seat and Mary’s four-year-old car seat. We buckled my kids in and drove out of Blüdhaven for Gotham. “When is your move into Gotham finalizing?” Damian asked as he drove.

I sighed. “Most of the important stuff is already at the house. I just gotta find time to… dismantle… y’know. The subway. And then sell the apartment lease.”

“Tt. I see,” Damian said. “Should you require, I could come by and assist—”

“No. It’s… it’s fine. I just… I can’t make myself go in there right now. The display cases and everything is just as it was and I wouldn’t even know what to do with most of the stuff we have stored. All our old suits. All our equipment. I just… there are too many memories.”

“What are you talking about, Mommy?” Mary asked.

“Just the place where your dad and I stored the rest of our things after you were born and we needed to make room in the apartment,” I said. “And our house in Gotham where we’re gonna move.”

“How come we’re moving?”

“To be closer to Grampa Bruce and Uncle Damian so they can help me out with you and Peter.”

“Babababa…” Peter babbled quietly. I glanced over my shoulder at him in his car seat. He was gumming his pacifier contentedly.

“Two months old and making noises,” Damian remarked. “Mary didn’t make a sound until she was four months.”

“Mary didn’t speak till she was nearly two and then busted out full sentences,” I reminded him. “Both of my kids were born with a lot to say. They just decided when to start saying those things at different times.”

“Indeed,” Damian said.

“So what’s so urgent that you’re here at eight in the morning on a Saturday?” I asked.

“Tt. Best not to tell. Just to show,” Damian said evasively.

The drive between Blüdhaven and Gotham was about a half-hour, but with Mary talking about school in the backseat, endlessly, it seemed to be quicker than that. Damian loved listening to her stories, even if he wasn’t terribly expressive at showing it. Still, I caught him grinning as he drove.

Once in the Manor, Damian intercepted Alfred. “Pennyworth, if you would keep an eye on the children, I'm going to take Mrs. Grayson downstairs.”

“Of course, Master Damian. It’s always a pleasure.” Alfred took Peter from me and took Mary’s hand while she smiled and giggled and talked to Great-Grampa Alfred about how his outfit looked very nice.

Damian led me immediately to the grandfather clock and down into the Batcave.

He turned to me in the elevator. “Mrs. Grayson… no one will judge you if you cry,” he said. “This will come as quite a shock.”

The elevator dinged open to the cave. Damian led me out. I followed. I hadn’t been down here in… months. Since Peter was born at least. Alfred had used the med-bay to do a lot of my check-ups while I was carrying Peter but I hadn’t been down here since I went back to Blüdhaven.

I trailed behind him to the med-bay. I knew the path well after years of treading it, even in the darkness.

When we reached it, I stopped in my tracks and gasped.

“Dick?” I whispered.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt and was bandaged up. His hair was a mess, his lip was split and bleeding, and he had a black eye. But it was him. Sitting on a gurney with eyes half-closed.

He glanced over at me and gave me an exhausted smile. “Hey sweetheart,” he greeted.

I took a few cautious steps toward him—

And promptly smacked him.

“Mrs. Grayson!” Damian exclaimed.

“Stand down, kid,” Dick said, rubbing his cheek. “I deserved that.”

I grabbed his face as gently as I could and kissed him, ignoring the blood on his lip. “I just… I had to make sure you were real,” I said.

“I'm real. I'm here. Are you okay? You look different. What have I missed? Tim said I was going to be mad when I got back,” he said, kissing me back enthusiastically.

Tim was talking to Dick?! That little liar—he said he was talking to Jason!

I slid my hand down his arm and took his hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you,” I said.

He hopped off the gurney gingerly and pulled on a loose-fitting blue T-shirt.

We headed for the elevator. “What happened?” I asked. “Why did you… why? I was there! You were dead!”

“I'm so sorry, love. I had to. Nightwing had to die to keep you and Mary safe. It was the only way.”

I wanted to just curl up in his embrace and cry for three days. Instead, I muttered, “I'm going to kill Bruce for this.”

“It’s not one-hundred-percent his fault.” Dick paused. “Okay, maybe it is, but the undercover mission I did was… really important.”

“Right,” I deadpanned as we reached the main body of the Manor. I took him to the playroom. “You asked what you missed and why I look different. Well, here it is.” I pushed the door open.

Mary was sitting on the beanbag with a picture book in her hands that she was reading while Alfred sat on a chair with Peter on his lap and read to him. Peter wasn’t paying any attention but he was staying quiet.

“Peter, baby,” I said.

He looked up from where he was chewing his fingers and smiled at me.

Dick gasped quietly from the shadows beyond the door. “We… we had another baby?” he whispered. He didn’t even question that Peter was his. How could he? Peter had his exact hair, both color and texture, and the same eye shape. Though Peter was probably going to have my nose.

“Yup,” I said. “And I'm going to kill Bruce for not ordering you home the second he found out I was expecting.”

Dick stepped into the light of the playroom.

Mary saw him and dropped her picture book. “DADDY!” she shrieked, bounding off the beanbag and running over. Ignoring his injuries, Dick dropped to his knees and gave her the gentlest but firmest hug he could.

“Hi sweetie! Oh I missed you!”

“Mommy said you went to heaven!”

“She thought I did, but I didn’t. Because Grampa Bruce told me to let her think that. But then I came back because I couldn’t leave my babies.” He held her tightly as Alfred got up and brought Peter over. I took our baby in my arms.

“Peter, do you wanna say hi to your dada?” I asked quietly. He kicked his legs but didn’t say anything.

Dick got to his feet, still holding the back of Mary’s head while she clung to his leg and held his hand out for Peter. The infant caught his finger and stared. Peter had green eyes that stared at Dick like Peter was searching his dad’s soul.

After a moment, Peter beamed and started babbling, just making noises.

Dick carefully took him out of my arms and looked up at me. “I'm so sorry,” he said. “I'm so sorry I missed this. Can you ever forgive me?”

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. “I can. I don’t blame you for this. I blame Bruce. But… give me a couple days.”

“I can’t believe I…” Dick’s eyes watered and spilled over. I wiped the tears off his face. “I can’t believe I abandoned you to go through that alone. I'm so sorry.”

“I know. And it’s gonna be okay, Dick. Just give us all time,” I said.

“You’ll have it,” he promised. “I'm never doing that again. I'm never leaving you, or our children, ever again.”

“Good.”

#Not According to Plan #Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson Imagine #Dick Grayson FanFiction #Nightwing #Nightwing Imagine #Nightwing FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

[shift-shaping]

THE LIONESS AND THE WOLF - XI - Glittering Silverite

This work is also available on Ao3. If you enjoy my work, please reblog, leave a comment, or donate to my Ko-Fi. Thank you!

Rating: Mature

Genre: Slow burn romance, adventure

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Blood, violence

Part eleven of The Lioness and the Wolf.  Part one.

previous <> next

Night in the desert left the air dead and stale, laying over the vast sea of sand and rock that offered nothing to her tired wings.  On the coast, even along a river, she could coast on a warm air current to give herself a break from having to stay in the air. Here she had to work to keep herself from drifting toward the ground.

Not helping her was her choice of flying form. A vulture would have had wings made for soaring, and even butterflies migrated longer distances than crows. At least like this she blended into the dark night sky above her, making her virtually invisible to the lifeless Approach below. 

She beat her wings against the dry air despite her exhaustion. She could barely see anything --she’d see better as an elf-- but the stark, violent outline of Adamant Fortress was just barely visible in the quarter-moon light. She’d never seen it before, but the description captured its sharp silhouette unmistakably. Torches broke up the darkness on its walls, illuminating sentries in glittering silverite. 

As she neared the fortress she drew closer to the ground, aiming for a perch atop an unguarded wall. Her talons met cold, hard stone and she let her wings fall open, resting her sore muscles. 

Voices drew her attention down the battlements, and she shifted into a mouse before the approaching guards could see her. She shivered in the cold and scampered into a crack between broken stone slabs. The Wardens spoke Orlesian, complicating her mission, but she could understand enough to follow along. 

They spoke of their dinner, of the ale at the fortress and what they missed from their homes. They were both human, and one was much older than the other. He had a thick grey beard peaking out from beneath his helmet and spoke in a harsher, more rural accent. 

The older man leaned against the wall, looking out over the abyss of desert before him. “Ce plan de Clarel...” He trailed off, shaking his head. 

The other man, tall and lanky, with scraggles of blonde hair poking just past his collar, adjusted his uniform before joining his companion at the wall. His rank was higher than the older man’s, but he seemed greener. “Vous vous inquiétez trop. Elle sait ce qu’elle fait.” He turned away from the desert, facing the older man. 

“Ce n’est pas juste.” It isn’t fair.

“C’est notre devoir.” It is our duty.

The older man fell quiet, letting an uneasy silence rest between them. What was this plan? What was Clarel asking them to do? Her paws were silent as she padded forward, glaring at them, trying to better understand. The older man lifted his hand and brought it to his face. He slowly removed his heavy gauntlet, catching his partner’s eye as he closely examined his palm. “Je ne savais pas que la magie du sang était notre devoir.”

Eirwen crouched back, eyes narrowed. Blood magic was not part of their duty --unless, perhaps, he was referring to the Joining. It was supposed to be a secret, so he must have been unpleasantly surprised to learn that there was some element of ‘blood magic’ involved in being a Warden. Still, she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t seem right; something worse was going on.

She left the crack in the wall and scampered to the ground. The pain that formed in her wings had transferred to her arms, where it ached as she made her way deeper into the fortress. She foresaw several days of using minimal magic and laying in a hot bath back at Skyhold in her near future. 

At least this form was easy to miss, allowing her to sneak into a door left ajar and give her access to the interior of the fortress. She scuttled into a storeroom, and almost immediately scrambled back as an overwhelming gust of magic rushed through her.

She rubbed at her nose and took cover behind a heavy wooden crate. The pull on the Veil was so strong here, and she was already using so much mana that the extra strain made her head spin. She could do nothing but wait until it passed, the spell wearing through her senses so fast that it briefly rendered her deaf and blind.

When she could finally move again, the power had faded. She crept out from behind the crate, pupils expanding in the darkness all around her. Something sticky and thick stuck to her paws, and when she could focus enough to breathe right she tasted the unmistakable scent of blood.

Why here? 

But she could barely begin to investigate before she heard a low, threatening growl. The sound came from somewhere not of this plane, somewhere ghastly and wrong. She turned, taking in the shadows, looking for the source, but saw nothing until she caught a glimpse of light high above her.

This room appeared to be the lowest floor of a great tower. High above, light flickered through worn floorboards and demonic snarls hissed from another world. She remembered how she felt when the Inquisitor introduced her to a Rift, and felt a chill at the familiarity of this sensation. 

Shouting Orlesian voices followed, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. From what she could grasp, they sounded stressed. 

She ran past the pool of blood and into a narrow hallway lit with sputtering torchlight. She needed to find a way up without changing form again, as her mana was wearing thin despite the breaches in the Veil here. The hallway lead her to a junction with one way right and one left. She chose right based on nothing but a gut instinct and lead herself to the base of a long, spiral staircase. 

Her body was too small to easily bound the stairs, but without another option she forced herself to climb. Hundreds of years of travel on the ancient dwarven steps had worn the center of each stair down towards the stair beneath it, giving her an easier place to lift her tiny body from step to step.

Still, she was exhausted and sore by the time she reached the top of the staircase. No one passed her, but she knew whatever she’d witnessed at the base of the tower was over by now. 

She backtracked through the hallway, to where she figured the voices came from. A heavy, worn wooden door stood slightly ajar, just enough for her to slip inside the room and hide amid the darkness of old barrels and cracked bottles of ale. 

In the center of the room were two Warden mages and a smoking pile of ashes. “C’est d’accord. C’est d’accord. Nothing you did is wrong.” The speaker was a woman, probably mid- to late-forties, with curly brown hair and freckled arms. Her accent was strong, but when she spoke Common Eirwen understood. The woman hesitated, raising her arm for a moment, before pulling her companion into a gentle embrace. “It is okay. Shh, shh...” 

The other Warden didn’t move, didn’t even let himself fall into the first Warden’s arms. He was visibly young, fresh-faced with a dirty uniform and dark, thick-rimmed glasses. 

“It’s for the best, Will. You heard what the Commander said. This is our duty now. This will stop the Calling.” He said nothing, didn’t shake, didn’t move, just sat there staring forward as the other Warden held him closer. “Do you want to go back to the barracks? Get some rest?” She looked up toward the top of the tower, as if it held some answer. “It must be late. You should go to sleep.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to sleep?” His voice was sudden and sharp, his accent Fereldan. The air in the room changed, as if the power of his speech mutated the atmosphere. He pulled back, his eyes cold and bright. “You made me do this. This is wrong and you made me do it.”

“William...”

“I don’t want to be part of this. I don’t want this.” He pulled against her and her grip tightened. “Let me go. Let me go, Rose.”

“I cannot do that. You are upset. You are not understanding--”

“I know what we did. I know what I did.” He wrenched away from her and stood, causing her to fall forward and catch herself on the floor. “I don’t want any of this.” He turned, and a sudden flash lit up the air. Sparks flew and Will fell forward, a devastating crack splitting the tense atmosphere as he landed hard on his right hand. The pile of ashes exploded, scattering thick dust around the room. He cried out, gasping and groaning, trying to escape the magic rope wrapped around his ankles. 

“William. Please.” The older Warden stood slowly and walked toward him, her footsteps loud on the floor. “Listen to yourself.” He gasped, cradling his wrist, writhing in the ashes. “This is for all of us. We made a sacrifice. We commit ourselves to this Organization. We are Grey Wardens, William.” She knelt beside him and he rolled on to his back. “If you are going to cause problems...”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I won’t. I won’t argue anymore I promise I’ll just --I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you ask me to.”

She put her hand on his face and he closed his eyes. “I cannot believe you.” She drew a blade from her side with her free hand and put it against William’s neck.

A powerful bolt of thunder shot through her shoulder, sending the blade spinning across the floor. She looked up at the source of the spell, to where Eirwen stood with her hand outstretched, sparks flickering around her fingers. She panted, the effort of breaking her form and using another spell wearing her already-thin store of mana even thinner. 

Rose crumpled, grabbing her injured shoulder, and her hold on William’s legs broke. He scrambled back, still nursing his wrist, and stared at Eirwen in surprise. “Who are you?”

“What is going on? What happened?” Eirwen kept her aim on Rose, but looked at William as she spoke. “What did you do?”

“I... I don’t understand... where did you come from? Who are you?”

“What did Clarel ask you to do, William?”

Using his name caused him to focus, and he swallowed hard before attempting to speak.

“We are doing what we have always done.” Rose cut him off and Eirwen looked at her, magic still dancing around her fingertips. “We are protecting the world from the Blight.” She hissed in pain before going on. “You would not understand. No one could understand that has not seen what we have seen.”

Eirwen’s eyebrows raised. “No. I imagine they could not.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, silver pin. It shone in the light of her magic, a griffon with pale blue paint on the tips of its wings. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You are her, you are Ferelden’s Commander...” Rose’s eyes widened before hardening, her features twisting into disgust. “Where have you been?”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Blood magic,” William spoke up between short, sharp breaths. “They’re summoning demons.” 

“What?”

“They’re going to go into the Deep Roads and kill Razikale and Lusacan before they get corrupted by the Blight. They think it will stop the Calling.” He shook his head, his voice shuddering. “They made me use blood magic to summon one of them. They... made me kill Colette...”

Eirwen stepped back, trying desperately to slow her breathing. She lowered her hand, panic widening her grey eyes. “Wait... you are --you hear it too?” William nodded, and she felt her back hit the wall. “Why do you hear it? How can that...” She shook her head. “No. This won’t solve anything. This is --that’s just... that’s so stupid.” She looked around, at the doors, at the top of the tower.  

“They made me kill her.”

Eirwen swallowed past the dryness in her mouth, her eyes drawn to a scattering of ash on the floor. “I need to stop this. You can’t use people like this, it’s not--” Pain jolted through her side suddenly and her words caught hard in her throat. With a shaking hand she touched her abdomen, where dark red blood spilled from a spike of ice shoved deep into the space below her ribcage. Rose had her arm raised as she stared hard at Eirwen.

“I cannot let you stop us. You must understand. We are doing what is right. We are saving lives.”

“You’re killing innocent people,” Eirwen rasped. Weakness spread through her bones, radiating out from the hole in her stomach. “This can never be right.”

“If you are truly one of us, then you must understand why this is necessary. Why we must do this.”

William hesitated, looking between them, before he went to Eirwen. “How can I help?”

“This isn’t what we do. This is --this is a perversion of our duty. Of your duty.” Eirwen fell back against the wall, barely able to hold herself up on the hard, cold stone. Rose shook as she got to her feet and walked towards them, one hand pressed to her shoulder. 

“You do not understand.” Eirwen touched the wound again, warm blood melting the ice around her fingers and soaking her clothes. “But now that you know, I cannot let you escape.”

Eirwen sunk down to her knees, and William sunk with her. He reached out, his hand careful as he wrapped his fingers around the spike of ice. “I can help you. I... I’m not a very good healer but I can try.” Eirwen glanced at him, then back at Rose. 

“I am sorry.” Ice crystallized in the air, more blade-sharp shards appearing as Rose aimed them at Eirwen. 

Eirwen attempted to fight back, forcing the last of her magic to hold the spikes back from bolting towards her. William tried to help her, but even the offer of his magic was too much for her to take hold of. He turned his focus toward Rose and hit her with a blast of spirit magic that sent her stumbling backward. The ice spikes flew in every direction, shattering barrels and bottles so that the room exploded with noise. 

With Rose distracted, Eirwen took her dagger from her hip and shoved it into William’s hands. “Tell them the demon did it.”

“What...” He reeled back, eyes wide with shock and pain. “No.”

“If you don’t kill her, she’ll lie as soon as anyone sees what happened. She’ll tell them you attacked her.” Rose tried to collect herself and stepped forward, each step heavy with purpose. “You know they’ll believe her. I can’t help you anymore. I can use a spell to heal myself but I won’t be able to help you afterward.” She pushed him back. “Tell them the demon did it.”

She used whatever mana she had let to shift again, a process that healed her wounds and returned her to the shape of a mouse. Scrambling, clumsy, aching, Eirwen ran for the door and half-fell, half-jumped back down the stairs.

At the base of the stairs she returned to the junction, turned down the unexplored path, and found herself outside of a locked door. 

Though she was always herself, taking on the form of an animal gave her the senses of that animal --for better or for worse. As a cat, her night vision sharpened and her whiskers gave her better balance. Her crow form could spot a target from hundreds of feet above, as long as she was flying during the day. As a mouse, she could pick up sounds high above the range of a person but nowhere near as low. Any kind of muffling, like a door or wall, made hearing what was on the other side almost impossible. 

She squeezed under the door and popped out into a room that was empty save for two people --a man in distinctly Tevinter robes with garish facial hair, and the Warden-Commander of Orlais herself. They spoke in low voices, so she crept closer in the shadows to hear what they were saying. 

The escape left her tired, left her lungs aching for air and her body sore. Adrenaline ruled her now, so as she settled down to eavesdrop she could feel pain and heartache returning. She pushed the feelings away, choosing to slip further into the simple mind of her current shape. 

“What does it sound like? Your Calling?” The Tevinter stood at the end of a long table, hands held behind his back, eyes focused on Clarel. She sat in a tall chair at the other end, one hand wrapped around a bottle of something murky.

It began with nightmares. Every Warden had nightmares, but they only grew worse with time. Eirwen’s dreams were reminders of what she’d done, of the mistakes she’d made and the people she’d wronged. She also saw the chaos of the Deep Roads, the sickening, oozing body of the Broodmother and her ravenous children. Her loved ones became warped versions of themselves, twisted caricatures that abused her in ways their true selves never would. The dreams were lessened with alcohol, dulled to confusion. Connecting to the true Fade, to the realm of her peaceful dreams, had grown more and more difficult over the years, to the point that she could scarcely manage it at all if the Veil was thick.

Then came the panic, the twisting sickness in her gut that eroded to paranoia over time. A burnt tree was no longer simply a random act of nature; it was an omen. If someone looked at her wrong they were obviously doing it because they could read her mind, because they knew how sick she was. This stage, for her, had only barely begun. If she held on to her own sense of logic she hoped she could stave it off. 

“I hear music,” Clarel said, quiet and slow. “Not always, and it is not close. It sounds distant, as if it is on the other side of a door or at the end of a long hallway.” She shifted her weight and raised her head, though she kept her gaze on the far wall. “Before I go to sleep, it is there. When I am alone, when I have nothing to distract me, it comes in as a quiet dirge.” 

She took a long, deep breath before going on. “And I hear the whispers. It is the voice of the Old God, speaking to me when the music is loud enough to hear. It comes from everywhere.”

“It’s all in your head though.” The Tevinter frowned at her. “Can you not see that?”

"Have you ever been afraid, Erimond?” He said nothing, and she went on. “Fear is in your head. It is not tangible. You cannot touch it. But it is still real.”

He ran his hand down over his beard, a small, scraggly thing with poorly-shaved sides. 

“This will help?” Clarel’s voice rose in pitch, hopelessness sinking in. “You believe we can stop this? Using your plan?”

He nodded firmly. “Of course. It will be difficult, and it will take many lives even beyond those needed for the ritual, but it will save your Order.” He looked at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

Clarel laughed bitterly. “What other choice do I have?”

He backed up, crossed his arms over his chest, and raised his chin. “We will have another ritual in two days’ time. I anticipate trouble from that conscript of yours. Stroud has been gathering allies...” He said the Senior Warden’s name like a curse, like it tasted foul in his mouth. “I strongly suspect he is working with the Inquisition.”

“They are misguided.” Clarel closed her eyes. “We should send a convoy to Skyhold to explain the situation.”

“You think they will listen?” Erimond scoffed. “They are fanatics. They follow a Qunari brute calling herself the Herald of Andraste. They would never listen to us, to you.” He sighed, lowered his arms from his chest, and walked around the table to sit by Clarel’s side. “You are doing the right thing, Clarel. You are protecting your Order. History will thank you for saving countless lives from future Blights.”

Eirwen desperately wished she could shift into her normal form and explain why everything about this was wrong. She felt trapped in this shape, unable to do her own duty and speak sense to Clarel. 

There was a rapid, loud knock at the door, and all three of them turned. “Warden-Commander, you are needed in the Western Auxiliary Tower.” 

Clarel looked at Erimond again before standing slowly. “Come in.” 

A middle-aged Warden pushed open the door and looked between them. She straightened. “Something terrible has happened, Commander. You have to see it for yourself.”

“Very well. Magister Erimond, we will continue our conversation tomorrow morning. Get some rest.”

“Happily, Warden-Commander.” He bowed with a dramatic flourish and slipped out of the room through a door on the far side. Clarel left, letting the other Warden lead her away.

Eirwen took her cue to leave. She left the room and followed a trail of stray, open mana to a storage closet. A single, almost-empty bottle of lyrium provided her with just enough energy to shift back into a crow.

She would need several days to reach Skyhold, but she had to get back as soon as possible. The Inquisitor needed to know what was going on. Everything she’d seen left her numb, shielding her from the deadly cold of the desert night. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything but pushing ahead.

Yet there was a small tinge of relief to it all: if even a new recruit like William was hearing the Calling, then maybe all of it was a farce. Maybe she had more time than she thought.

#solasmance #solas rarepair #glimpses #the lioness and the wolf posts #hey fun fact i know fucking nothing about birds so if you're an ornithologist #don't @ me #i also know very little french i am struggling lol #casually spending an entire chapter telling the characters what the audience already knows #this chapter is A Lot #ten points if you actually read all of it lmao #every 100 points can be exchanged for various prizes #like a ko-fi #or a bag of seven dark chocolate M&Ms mailed to your house #or a single unsigned ransom letter regarding one (1) item missing from your home #which one? unclear

[astralaffairs]

When Stars Align || Lafayette x Reader - Chapter 4

Pairing: Lafayette x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: mentions of death, john laurens being suggestive, sexist aaron burr

Taglist: @lttlethings @followingnaturespath @secretfanficreader @superwholockbooknerd526 @apandawithcookies

tell me if you want to be added to the tags!

“I do not know what it is about the smells of rain, but it calms me,” I said, smiling as I leaned against the windowsill. It had been nearly a month since I arrived, and I was finally getting to know all of the men. As it turned out, they weren’t always enormous assholes.

“Really? I hate it,” Laurens said and I sighed.

“And ‘ere we are again, you are always a downer,” I walked back over to my bed and dropped onto the springy mattress.

“Could you two shut up? I’m trying to beat these two at cards,” Mulligan said and I rolled my eyes.

“You are awful in cards,” I pointed out as he huffed and took another hand.

“That’s why I said trying,” he said and I chuckled.

I laid there, eyes shut, listening to the rain for a few more minutes. A creak from beside me signaled that the door was opening. My eyes flitted open to glance at who was entering the room.

“Mail,” he said, bringing in his crate, “hopefully it’s not all soaked.”

I furrowed my brow, recognizing the man. Was he the one who was talking to Washington the first day I was here?

“Thanks Burr,” Hamilton walked over to the crate and started shuffling through the letters. I didn’t move, assuming that I had no mail.

I went back to watching the rain. It was too bad that it was raining, as it was warmer out than it had been in a while. I would’ve liked to go into town, see the markets and people.

“Hey Y/N, have you met Burr?” Hamilton asked, yanking me from my thoughts.

“Maybe?” I replied, not sure how to answer. I mean, we’d met briefly and I’d used that time to basically tell him that his attack plan was stupid. Hamilton’s eyes lit up at my answer.

“He’s the prodigy of Princeton College,” he informed me excitedly.

“'Ere we go again,” Lafayette said tiredly.

“Graduated in two years then joined the Revolution!” Herc added, mimicking Hamilton’s excitement.

“An orphan just like me!” Laurens joined in. Hamilton was an orphan? I felt my heart stop as I realized what that meant.

“Alright, enough,” Hamilton cut them off, rolling his eyes, “Burr, this in Y/N Legrand; Y/N, this is Aaron Burr.”

“Nice to meet you,” I gave him a forced smile and shook his hand.

“You as well,” he replied with a smile that appeared genuine before taking the crate and leaving again. That was when the reality hit me.

Hamilton was an orphan. I would never get to know my mother. My stomach turned to lead as I sat onto my bed. I would never have someone to call Meré.

I walked back over to the windowsill, looking out so that they couldn’t see my face. I did everything I could to suppress the hot tears stinging my eyes.

I stood there, looking out but not seeing anything. I must have been there for hours, though they felt like minutes.

“Y/N, we’re heading down to the pub, wanna come?” Laurens asked. His words shook my from my daze, distracting me for a moment from my feelings. I hadn’t a clue how long I’d been standing there. It was only then that I finally realized that the rain had stopped.

“Non. Go on ahead without me. I am not really in the mood,” I turned around and sat on my bed, giving him a small smile. He raised an eyebrow but shrugged and didn’t question it.

I pulled out my journal as they left. I flipped to one of my many portraits of my mother, drinking in every detail of her face. I looked at every hard line and every curve, my tears threatening to spill as I wished more than anything to just once see that gorgeous woman standing in front of me.

They shut the door, and that’s when I was finally done supressing my emotions.

The tears that had been pricking the corners of my eyes now streamed down my cheeks, ruining my drawing as they soaked my journal. She was gone? How long had she been gone?

Loud sobs shook my entire body as I sat cross legged, hunched over my journal. I was in utter disbelief. I had never even gotten to know her.

I drew in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself, but it hardly lasted a second. Tears covered my face and filled my hands as I cried with the force of ocean waves battling the cliffside.

“Y/N?” a quiet voice behind me asked. I slowly lifted my head, almost afraid to turn around and see him standing behind me.

“Can you leave?” I asked as nicely as I could manage.

“Why are you crying? What is wrong?” Lafayette asked, rushing to my side.

“It is nothing.” I took a deep breath. “Can you just pretending you did not see me?”

“Not anymore; I ‘ave just walked in on you sobbing,” he said softly.

“Just do not say anything. Is nothing. I am fine.” I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

“Hé, no you are not. What happened?” He took a seat next to me on my bed, dripping water onto my sheets from his rain-soaked clothing. I finally looked at him. His kind brown eyes filled with concern as he examined my expression. Could I tell him?

“Is Hamilton an orphan? Was Laurens serious?” I asked, longing for him to tell me it wasn’t true.

“I- What?” Lafayette asked, taken aback, “What does that 'ave to do with anything?”

“Just answer me. S'il vous plaît,” I said.

“Yes. 'E is an orphan. Now can you tell me why you were crying?”

Another sob escaped me at his words, and I was soon weeping once again. Lafayette wrapped his arms around me and my breath hitched at the touch, slowing my tears for just a moment. He pulled me into his embrace that was cold to the touch but warmed me inside.

“Hé, you are okay. I am 'ere. You are safe.” He stroked my hair calmingly. I inhaled deeply and caught the smell of old books and bonfires with my face nuzzled into his arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked. I grimaced ever so slightly, knowing that I couldn’t carry on without telling him.

“I 'ave a secret,” I finally said, “I am sorry that I haven’t told you, but it’s bigger than any I 'ave ever kept.” He gave me a look of confusion, so I continued.

“If I tell you this, you 'ave to swear not to tell a soul.”

“You 'ave my word,” he promised. I took a deep breath before coming right out with it.

“Hamilton is my brother.” I sat in front of him awaiting a reaction. I searched his face, the only sign of any feeling lying in his eyes. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“What?” he asked. No emotion was in his tone. I instantly regretted telling him.

“Well, 'alf brother. 'is mother is mine as well,” I explained. We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, him still holding me. He fiddled with a lock of my hair and I found myself unable to breathe anytime his hand even nearly brushed my skin.

“That still does not explain why you were crying, mon amie,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“I just,” I began, “I never knew my mother. I 'ave always wanted to, but I never had the chance. But now, to learn that she is dead, I do not know what to do.”

Tears began to stream from my eyes once again, but I blinked them back. I didn’t need his pity. I didn’t want it.

“And my father, on top of that. Four months ago my family received word that 'e passed away.” I nearly choked on the sob growing in my throat. A single tear escaped my eye, and the rest followed without delay.

“I am an orphan, Laf,” I sobbed. I no longer cared whether I had his pity. I just needed his comfort.

“Hé, shh. I know,” he said softly. He lifted my chin so I was looking at him. He wiped my tears away with his thumb, though it didn’t do anything but replace the tears with water from his hands. My breath caught in my throat as I looked into his eyes.

“But you are 'ere now. 'Ere with us. With your brother,” he whispered. In a motion so subtle I would’ve missed if his face were not so near mine, his eyes flickered to my lips. “With me.”

He lead my face to his as we both closed our eyes in anticipation. I could feel the warmth of his skin only millimeters away from my own.

Thud.

My eyes snapped open as a boot hit the first step coming up to our barracks. I looked into Lafayette’s eyes which were now further from my own as we had both pulled slightly away at the sound. Surprise filled his eyes and I bit my lip, startled at the sound but reluctant to leave his touch.

Thud.

I pulled away from him instantly upon hearing the sound again. We both sat next to each other when the door creaked open.

“Hey guys, did I leave my coat in here?” Hamilton asked, walking into the room. I felt a sort of resentment as he walked in, but instantly chastised myself. He hasn’t walked in on anything real. There was simply a moment where I was at my lowest and Lafayette came in at the right time.

“I am not sure,” Lafayette responded stiffly. I tried to catch his eyes but he had fixed his glance on his shoes.

“Well, I just wanted to come get it; the rain is picking up,” he said, pulling his jacket on.

“I 'ad not noticed,” Lafayette said.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to the bar. Either of you care to join me?” Hamilton asked.

“I think I will,” Lafayette said. He looked me in the eye before standing up, though I couldn’t read his expression. I felt a sort of hurt as he walked with Hamilton to the door, but did my best to brush it off. I had no reason to feel hurt. So why did I?

And they walked out together, leaving me alone with my sadness and newfound confusion.

Over the next few days, it kept raining non-stop. I kept to myself for the most part, reading or writing in my journal. I didn’t talk to Lafayette about what had happened. I wasn’t even sure I knew what had happened.

Later in the week, the rain finally cleared up. Clear, bright blue skies and warm weather to match. Well, warm for a New York February.

I didn’t bother dressing in uniform, but instead slid on a dull orange sweater that I had essentially stolen from my brother’s room just days before my departure. I also grabbed a pair of ran pants and my brown leather riding boots.

Though I knew they would have disagreed, I didn’t feel like I was on the best of terms with the four men who lived with me. But I wanted more than anything to go into town.

When they finally all left together in the evening, going who knows where, I grabbed my journal as well as all the change I had left and left. I ran out gleefully onto the muddy road down to the stables.

York, my father’s horse, whinnied as I threw open the stable doors. I lightly grimaced as I remembered how easily startled the stallion was.

“I am sorry I left you 'ere for so long,” I said quietly, rubbing its neck. I kissed its silky coat before dropping my belongings into the bag on its saddle.

I mounted him after leading him out of the stable, and grinning ear to ear, snapped the reins I held.

He went forward through the camp at a quick trot and I was surprised at how eager I was to leave.

Soon, I was back onto the cobblestone street that lead through the city. I inhaled deeply, knowing that wearing my old day clothes and riding my father’s horse was the closest I would get to home. I didn’t care too much. The scent of cinnamon lingered under my nose as I remembered my brother’s favorite thing in the world: cinnamon rolls.

I walked York over to the market stall to where I traced the scent back. I paid for the decadent pastry with a smile before leading the horse alongside me to a bench at the edge of the square.

I took a massive bite from the gooey cinnamon roll, not caring in the slightest as my face was covered in the sticky sweet filling. I finished it in likely under a minute, letting out a sigh of happiness as I licked off my fingers and wiped my face.

A quiet chuckle beside me startled me, as I had thought I was alone in the bench. I flipped the hair shielding my view to my right onto my shoulder to see who sat next to me. I let out a sigh upon seeing his face.

“Merde, Laf. You scared me.” I put my hand to my heart as he chuckled. I glared playfully as his amusement.

“What are you doing down 'ere? Where are the others?” I asked with a grin.

“I, um,” he coughed, a blush filling his cheeks. I raised an eyebrow at his clear discomfort.

“Well, I headed back from lunch to come check on you in our barracks, but you weren’t there,” he said, shifting in his seat, “And I remembered you saying you wanted to go into town earlier in the week, so I came here to try and find you.”

“Thank you, but I can manage on my own for a few hours,” I replied with a chuckle, brushing my hair out of my face. His cheeks flushed a deeper red. We sat there for a few minutes; neither of us said anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was peaceful bliss, sitting there looking into his eyes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop it when another man slid into the seat next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders.

“I see you’ve met my friend, though why would anyone want to talk to him when I’m here?” I couldn’t see him on the bench, but I knew instantly that it was John Laurens.

“And with a body like that,” I didn’t turn around, but could almost feel him looking me up and down, “Why waste your time with him?” He scooted closer to me and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I still wasn’t facing him, and it became clear that he didn’t recognize me from the back.

“Laurens,” Lafayette warned, trying to bring his attention to who he was talking to.

“Relax Laf, I’m just joking about you,” he snickered, unable to take a hint.

“You should come down to camp with me; I’ll treat you right,” he went on, his focus back on me. I rolled my eyes as a snort of laughter nearly escaped me.

“C'mon baby, don’t you talk?” he nudged me.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” I turned to face him finally, hardly suppressing my laughter.

“Y/N,” his eyes widened and his face turned a deep scarlet. I burst out laughing at his reaction.

“I take it you have a, 'ow you say, zing for me?” I teased, nudging his side.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked Lafayette, his eyes still wide. Lafayette sighed at our friend’s clear obliviousness.

“On ze bright side, you know that I will be coming down to camp with you,” I laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Laurens muttered with a sheepish smile.

“You ought to be a bit more careful 'oo you 'it on,” I said, still chuckling. He rolled his eyes and finally realized that his arm was still around my waist. He blushed, if possible, even a deeper red as he removed it and shifted away from me a bit.

“Alright, I will see you guys back at camp later. I 'ave a few things I would like to pick up.” I stood up, grabbing York’s reigns.

“We will come with you,” Lafayette offered.

“I am fine on my own. Besides, Mulligan and 'amilton will be waiting for you at camp,” I said.

“Okay, see you later Y/N,” Laurens stood up and I chuckled at his still pink face.

They walked back down the cobblestone trail as I looked around the square for what I needed. It took me a few minutes of walking, but I finally came across a market stall selling ink and parchment.

I picked up a bottle of ink as well as a few feet of parchment before paying the store owner. Glad to have a means of communication again, I smiled as I laid it into my bag attached to York’s saddle. I then went down to curl comfortably under a large oak tree with a cup of coffee I had bought from a nearby stand.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the smell and feeling the heat of my warm drink, and a smile came to my face. I took a long sip before putting the cup onto the ground beside me to instead pick up my journal.

I sketched my view upwards, the spire of the tree trunk at the edge with the branches sprouting outwards, along with the dim sunset light filtering through to make many of the branches little more than silhouettes against the bright sky.

I drew a stroke of one of the final branches before lifting my head to look above myself once more, but something caught me eye on my way.

A familiar looking trio stood in front of me, though I couldn’t quite place where I had seen them before. I eyed them quizzically as they strided through the square, nearly dancing. Their demeanor was altogether one of joy, but the third of the girls looked less than happy.

It finally struck me that these were the same three girls I had seen in the square just a month ago. I furrowed my brow. They looked wealthy, from their fancy shoes to how their hair was perfectly parted.

Apparently, someone else had the same thought. I watched Burr approach them, looking full of himself and confident. That confidence was clearly misplaced, I thought, as they didn’t look exactly pleased to meet him.

Nevertheless, the smug look never dropped from his face. I rolled my eyes, shutting my book and slipping it into my bag to walk over.

“Burr! Lovely to see you. 'ow 'as your day been? 'arrassed many women? Or are these the first?” I asked, leaning my elbow onto his shoulder casually.

“Y/N. Always a pleasure,” he forced a smile, “I was just having a nice chat with these three.”

“Is that the phrase they use 'ere in the colonies for being rejected by someone? I 'ave not 'eard it; I suppose I will 'ave to add it to my vocabulary,” I said, raising my eyebrows. He forced a laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you all around,” he said, still smiling, but his eyes narrowed in annoyance. I rolled my eyes as he walked off.

“That asshole,” I shook my head before turning to the trio who still stood in front of me.

“That was amazing,” the one in pink said.

“I am glad you think so,” I said with a chuckle, “I 'ave 'ad a month learning 'ow to deal with the men in the army.”

“The army,” she started, knitting her brow in confusion, “but you’re a woman.”

“That I am. Y/N Legrand,” I extended my hand in greeting. She shook it with an expression that was somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“I’m Angelica Schuyler,” she said, “and these are my sisters, Eliza and Peggy.”

“So you’ve been in the army for a month?” she questioned, a smile playing at her lips. I nodded.

“I work as a battle strategist for General Washington,” I explained, “It is usually nice, but the four men I live with are often complete asses.”

“You live with four men?” Peggy asked, scrunching up her nose in displeasure.

“Unfortunately,” I laughed, “Where are you three from?”

“We just live uptown,” Eliza said.

“Then I suggest you get back; this isn’t a great place for three rich ladies after sundown,” I advised.

“You sound like everyone else,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “we’re here to see the revolution. I’m looking for a mind at work.”

“There are very few of those in ze revolution,” I chuckled. “Though I suppose downtown is just as good a place to look as any. Find anyone yet?”

“You’re the first,” Eliza said with a wink.

“I am flattered, but you are not really my type,” I joked.

“I’m hurt,” she faked a pained expression and placed her hand on her heart. We both burst out laughing after a moment.

“I cannot tell you 'ow nice it is to talk to women for a change,” I said, still giggling.

“I can’t imagine being exclusively around men,” Eliza said.

“I remember a time when I could not 'ave either,” I sighed, looking out on my camp just past the city. Lights were starting to go out.

“It is about time for me to get back to camp, though. Please tell me this is not the last time I will see you?” I asked.

“It won’t be.”

#hamilton #lafayette #hamilton x reader #lafayette x reader #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fic #lafayette fic #lafayette fanfiction #lafayette fanfic #marquis de lafayette x reader

[kylorengarbagedump]

Unprofessional Services: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: You remember learning in the academy that working as a therapist required creativity. It seems as if anti-therapy requires the same.

Words: 2300

Warnings: None

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: So, I've kind of had this chapter written for months and just never published it because I thought it was terrible! But then, today, I read it over and thought, huh, this actually isn't half-bad! So! Here ya go!

Despite my inactivity, I am thinking about both of my current stories every day. Without getting into too much, my life has been kind of a mess since May, so, I'm trying my best to pull it back together. It seems as if it's beginning to settle, now.

Thanks so much for your patience and support. I love reading the feedback for this story. It's close to my heart! <3 I love y'all so much!!

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Perhaps you could hypnotize yourself into sleeping. Or bore yourself. One of them would have to work eventually--wouldn’t they? You peeked over your shoulder. Fent was still conked out, his breath soft and deep. Not waking him was paramount. Freezing your lungs, you reached for your data pad, resting only inches from you. Your hand floated through the air, on a silent mission. Your nails grazed the edge and you pulled it toward you with your fingertips. So close. Almost there…

You slid it too fast, and it tumbled to the floor, a loud, glassy clatter cutting through the air. You winced.

Fent snorted, then shot up, shouting into the darkness as his head spun on a swivel. Cursing yourself, you eased him down, shushing him, caressing his back and murmuring in his ear. But it wasn't enough. His body shook, a choked whimper escaping him.

“I just want to sleep…” he sobbed. “Why can't I sleep?”

“Wish I could answer that for you, love.” If you ever found the answer, you hoped they'd solve the mystery for you, too.

“My life sucks,” he said. Your heart crumbled. You knew what he meant, but it didn't make it hurt any less when he said it. “I'm never getting better.”

“Shh,” you said. “Don't say that… We're getting off this ship soon. And when we do, everything will be different. I promise.”

Fent nodded, his body relaxing. Eventually, he fell asleep, but spent the rest of the night twisting, turning, pushing you to the edge. Between that and the sweltering heat of his body, you resigned yourself to a tiny corner of the mattress, staring into the empty ceiling, hoping the universe would mistake you for a corpse and claim you into temporary unconsciousness.

By the time to meet the Supreme Leader rolled around, you weren't entirely sure how much sleep you had gotten--only that your limbs moved like stones and your lids fluttered with the heavy weight of exhaustion. But it didn't matter. You had work to do. So, gathering what energy you had left, you slid out of bed and pulled on your uniform.

As promised, the location of the meeting had been sent to your datapad, and you tucked it under your arm, just in case you got lost, unlikely as it was. Between dealing with your clients and dealing with Fent, you were fairly certain you had a blueprint burned into your brain. You bid farewell to him before you began your journey through the halls.

What could the Supreme Leader want with you? Of course, it must have been related to the incident with Kylo Ren the day before--but that wasn't your fault. It was his own damn choice to act like a child. A massive, terrifying child. With magic powers. That he used to strangle you.

You snorted. You'd done nothing wrong. Why did you need to feel afraid? Ren was the one who'd choked his therapist.

According to the datapad, you'd arrived. The doors in front of you looked as plain as any blastdoor--a bit inconspicuous for concealing the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Didn't he deserve something gilded? And what were you supposed to do, now, anyway? There was no keypad next to the doors--no way of entry. Shrugging, you did the only thing you could think to do. You knocked.

The doors whirred open before you, taking your breath with them. Beyond them was a sanctuary--or, really, that was the only word you could think to define it. It was dark, without a single window or porthole, the floors flat and empty before a durasteel chair positioned at the head of the room. Where the Supreme Leader sat.

The problem was, the chair was empty. Your stomach sank. Perhaps he wasn't here. Perhaps this was a mistake. You stepped inside to double-check before escaping back to your quarters--but the doors shut behind you, plunging you into complete darkness.

“Dammit!” You scrambled and scraped at the door, raw shivers hitting your bones when your nails grazed the durasteel. It didn't budge. “Dammit!” Spinning around, you confronted the empty, black air. “Hello?” you shouted. “Someone!”

Blue, broken light cut through the void, a fuzzy hologram materializing at the head of the room. It blipped, stabilizing, and then solidified. You gulped.

The Supreme Leader might have been human, once--he had the framework--but what appeared in front of you was something strange, disfigured, its head like skin stretched over a craggy rock. Heavy robes consumed its thin body, seated in what you’d now probably refer to as a throne. How the hologram managed to do that, you didn’t know, but it seemed like a waste of a chair if no one was going to physically sit in it. Then it--he--spoke.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

For a moment, you wanted to look around. You were the only one in the room--but he could’ve meant someone besides you. Probably. It was difficult to produce any words when your throat was drier than salt. To be honest, you’d never put much thought into your function as part of the First Order, but now, faced with its Leader, you wondered about the motivations of someone who looked like the the casualty of a steel shredder. Okay, fine, that wasn’t nice.

“Um. Is it something to do with Kylo Ren?”

Snoke sat back in his chair. “Yes.” A pause. “He’s been assigned to you.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Tell me what you did yesterday.”

You hesitated. Did he want the truth? Had Ren, like, tattled on you? Or said you were mean? Or, like, what? You drew in a breath. “Yesterday,” you said, “we began the process of identifying the automatic thoughts as a way of ultimately working toward naming his core beliefs.” It wasn’t a lie. You just didn’t want him to know Ren wasn’t cooperating.

“I see.” Snoke considered you, the silence stretching out between you. “Then you will do it again.”

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry, sir?”

“You produced promising results, yesterday,” he replied. “I want you to continue with whatever treatment you’ve identified.”

“Really?” you asked, and then cleared your throat, realizing you sounded far more incredulous than was appropriate. “I mean. Really. That’s very encouraging, sir.”

“The progress is already more than I had anticipated.” The hologram fizzed. “I look forward to seeing more.” Another pause. Sweat was tickling your nape. “Return to your assignment.”

You swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

The hologram blinked and the door flew open--you spun, marching into the hall, jaw tight as you heard it then shut behind you. Back to your office it was.

Promising results? What in Maker’s name had you done to produce promising results? All you’d manage to do was get choked, and even then, it wasn’t like you and the Commander had great rapport. The therapist-client relationship was almost non-existent. Well, no, you couldn’t say that. It existed--in the same way that burning corpses existed after an explosion.

When you arrived at your office, the reminder that you’d managed to sleep only a couple of hours pressed at your back. You lugged yourself into your chair, dropping your datapad onto your desk with a rattle. Sighing, you shoved your hands into your hair, gripping your scalp as your head spun. Stars, why wouldn’t they just let you go? You weren’t a good therapist, and you weren’t a good anti-therapist, either. All you’d been able to do was piss off Commander Ren--

You shot up. That was it. Piss him off. That’s what you needed to do. You grinned, sinking into your chair. Piss him off. It wasn’t that difficult. Of course, it might mean you’d get Force-strangled a few more times, but, sacrifices were necessary for progress. You could manage that. No--you could more than manage it. You could do it. And you would. He was due in your office any minute, now. Your face was hot with excitement.

You could do this.

Anxiety had slowed time. Five minutes past his appointment time seemed like an hour. And then ten minutes. And then fifteen. And by the time an entire hour had passed, your anticipation and pride had cooled completely, magma into rock. Despair settled into the cracks, flooding you, drowning you with every passing second. There would be no progress without a client. That’s what you’d forgotten. Kylo Ren wasn’t even interested in participating. The countdown to your release grew longer and longer, like a ball of yarn spinning out endlessly across the floor.

By the time you gave up, your head wobbled, as if it was filled with water, and your stomach twisted and growled. You hadn’t eaten since your meal with Rue the day before. It was probably important to take care of that. Admitting defeat, you gathered your datapad and trudged your way to the cafeteria. Though you couldn’t imagine what would be there that’d you’d want to eat.

You weren’t sure what time it was. You hadn’t checked. All you knew was that there were people swarming the tables, and you and your pounding temples were having none of it. You took a seat in a secluded corner, driving the heels of your palms into your eyes until stars shimmered behind your lids. You needed to get up and eat. You needed to. But the longer you sat there, the heavier your body became.

There was no way you’d be able to sleep in your bed, anyway. Not with Fent there. You supposed you could ask him to get up, try and get him motivated, but the thought of facing his misery changed your mind. You didn’t need to sleep there. Just a nap. You dropped your arms on the table and buried your head into them. You remembered sucking a long, slow breath into your lungs--and you were asleep.

How long you slept, you weren’t sure. Long enough for the cafeteria to clear out, long enough for the owner of a crackling, modified voice to find you. Alone.

“Officer.”

Lightning sprung through your limbs, and you shrieked, head popping up to face the noise. When you were greeted with Kylo Ren, you gasped again, before collapsing into your seat and plopping your face in your hands. Shivers rippled through you.

“Hello, Commander,” you grumbled.

“Is it customary for you to sleep outside of your quarters?” You couldn’t tell how much of a snarky jerk he was trying to be. You assumed he was going for a medal.

Sighing, your hands fell to your sides, and you stared at him. Stars, he was huge. Your heart skipped. “No,” you replied. “Is it customary for you to miss your appointments?”

Static through the mask. “I’ve already informed the Supreme Leader I’m through wasting my time with you.”

“Really?” you asked, propping your chin on your hands. “When was that?” When he didn’t respond, you continued. “Because he just told me that whatever I did yesterday was progress.”

Kylo Ren was silent. His shoulders, broad, cloaked, rose and fell like a dying wave. His fists curled. Uncurled. Curled. “I’m not interested.”

You snorted. “Doesn’t matter. You have to.” Crossing your arms, you grinned. “You’re stuck with me.” Stuck with you until the Supreme Leader thought you’d made enough progress and saw fit to discharge Fent. And you.

“I won’t be attending future appointments,” he replied. “It’s in your best interest to find another way off this ship.” He almost seemed proud. “We’re done.” He started to turn.

Heat flashed through you. “Listen!” you growled. “We’re not done until I say we’re done! If you think you’re stopping me from getting off this ship, then you are wrong!” Spit was soaring from your teeth. “If you’re going to do this, I’ll meet with you and the Supreme Leader myself and you can tell him why he’s not seeing the results that I was responsible for!”

When you finished, you realized your chin was quivering, your hands trembling. You weren’t sure if it was from hunger or from rage.

Ren, meanwhile, stood, as statuesque as ever. The only indication he was alive was that soft shift of his shoulders with his breath. The longer he stood there, the hotter the flame within you became. You wanted to turn him to ash with your eyes, wanted to dig your fingers into his arms and tear him apart. How would it feel, you wondered, to touch him--to slap him on whatever face he had under that stupid mask?

“Sleep in your own bed, officer.” He turned, his long legs carrying him toward the door.

“Wish I could,” you mumbled, and he stopped. So did your heart, for a moment.

He sought you out. The point of his gaze was sharp, even through the black visor of his mask. “I still won’t attend appointments.” Then he stared, lingering on you for a long moment, before stalking through into the hall.

Your shoulders sagged, and you exhaled--you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done that. Tremors continued to rumble through you, but a tiny victory spun itself in your head. His last words were a tacit agreement that he was not, in fact, done. The lack of appointments was a part of that deal. You hummed, gazing at your datapad. Prodding at him in a single setting was unlikely to continue to produce the same sorts of results, anyway. You also needed to make sure he couldn’t just leave--

A tiny grin crept onto your face. He wouldn’t go to you. You’d go to him. Follow him. Be that voice to drive him to the edge, again and again. A laugh actually escaped you. Yes. You’d follow Kylo Ren. You would appease Leader Snoke. And you would get off this stupid, kriffing ship.

You stood, and your legs wobbled, your head whirling. “Whoa,” you said, catching yourself before you passed out. Another sigh.

First, you’d eat.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #unprofessional services #fanfiction problems #:D

[theopinionreturned-blog]

Illuminati?

By Mr. Kirkland 10/2/17

Who watched Lady G’s Superbowl performance a couple weeks ago? The writers of this blog certainly did, and allow me to say, it was splendid. However, when I searched the internet the next day, I discovered something that made my blood boil: the alt-right hysterically claiming, and I quote: “Lady Gaga. . . ‘summoned the Devil’ at her Super Bowl performance.”

Did you see the Devil summoned during her performance? I sure didn’t. Maybe I’m going blind; I’ll remind my mother to mention that to our optometrist. Oh, but that wasn’t all the alt-right had to say. In fact, they accused Lady G of being in the Illuminati. . . because there were triangles on her stage. 

Amused and slightly miffed, I logged this information into the back of my brain. Ms. Ferrars and Mr. Bon Cavalish, whom I’d be seeing at a game later, would want to hear about this. 

At the game, I told my two friends everything. We laughed and discussed how ridiculous the accusation was; obviously, we were minding our own business and just happily sharing stories, like friends do. Out of the blue, this freshman who was standing below us suddenly whirled his head, looked up, and made eye contact with me. He glared at me as if I were trying to steal his girlfriend; it was a vicious, nasty glare.

And I personally felt threatened by such a malicious glare. 

Before proceeding, we must name this new character. As Ms. Shirley has coined him, we can call him ‘villain of an awful 80′s movie”- VOAM for short. 

We all think VOAM resembles Biff from Back to the Future:

VOAM haughtily turned away and leaned close to his friend, muttering, “They’re so stupid, talking about the Illuminati.” 

I don’t understand why he targeted us like that, but hey, it turned out to be the greatest inside joke I’ve ever created. (Thanks, VOAM!) To grate on VOAM’s nerves, I turned to Mr. Bon Cavalish and Ms. Ferrars and loudly crowed, “And that’s when I told the ILLUMINATI, ‘why on earth would you call someone stupid! And do you know what the ILLUMINATI told me?! . . .’”

This went on the entire game. Let me assure you, it even carried on the next day, because I gained access to his locker and drew a large triangle inside it, gained access to his email and signed him up for the Illuminati website, and every single time I saw him in the halls, I turned to one of my friends and spoke loudly: “and that’s when the ILLUMINATI told me. . .”

It didn’t stop there. While snooping in VOAM’s locker, I found something essential: his schedule. “Ah,” I thought. “If I could get his teachers to mention the Illuminati during class, he’d know I’d won.” And so, because all of the teachers at my school adore me, I went around explaining my case to them. They agreed to help me on my noble quest, because quite frankly, VOAM deserved it. Sure enough, I heard wonderful reports the next day that “poor VOAM” felt “harassed”, that he “didn’t like me” and that all his teachers had been questioning his “relationship with the Illuminati.”

He won’t be messing with me nor my friends anytime soon. In your face, little freshman.

Unfortunately, talk of the Illuminati spread a little too far. Our other classmates, like B (the anti-feminist) and Blondie (his bestie) apparently didn’t like talk of this cult circulating around the entire school, even though our school is basically a cult-worshipping confederate haven. Blondie, in fact, texted Ms. Ferrars: “Do you understand the depth of that ‘colt’?” 

Blondie, darling, check your spelling before trying to chide us.

I believe I am getting a bit ahead of myself, however. Before Blondie committed his texting blunder, a major roadblock stood in the way of our perfect day, a major roadblock by the name of “B.” That’s right, the bully and confederate anti-feminist that has previously been mentioned in this blog. 

We have history with B, and not the “haha, such great times” type of history. The history I speak of entails deep wounds that he has afflicted on each and every one of us, most often unprovoked. However, what I’m about to tell you, readers, exceeds past offenses entirely. 

Mr. Bon Cavalish, Mr. Jackson, and I were sitting together during a flex period, probably competing at online poker and definitely minding our own business- just three hobos in uniforms chilling. Ms. Singer and Ms. Shirley were in a classroom with B. When the bell rung, we didn’t expect the two ladies to rush out of the classroom and storm over to our isolated little island, looking furious and upset. 

“B was trashing Bon Cavalish during class,” they explained. He said all sorts of nasty things about our friend’s appearance, personality, and orientation; he pushed so far that even Blondie fearfully glanced over at him and whispered, “Shh! Shirley and Singer are right there!” Caught in the act, B stopped talking immediately. But the damage was already done. 

Infuriated, and understandably so, Bon Cavalish and I decided to subscribe B to emails from his favorite websites:

B was not amused. In fact, when he walked out from his next class, he glared at us and spat, “Which one of you faggots signed me up for all those stupid emails?” 

Bon Cavalish, Jackson, and I all glared back at B, daring him to come at us. In an uncharacteristically wise move, B backed off, headed to his next class. But oh, I wasn’t done yet. I had to teach him not to come near us ever again. B’s locker, much like VOAM’s, was still up for grabs. I decorated his locker with so many pretty triangles (in permanent marker, too) that B was overwhelmed by the time he returned; so overwhelmed, in fact, that he reported all of us to administration.

Over the next week, various meetings were held and several people questioned. I came clean to the administration. . . that I’d drawn triangles in B’s locker. (The horror!) Eventually, I was forced into apologizing to B, and I was even told this by administration: “You need to come to terms with the fact that, when you apologize to him, he may not accept your apology, and he doesn’t even need to accept it.” 

I was appalled by this. 

Readers, I’d like to communicate something to you. If your friend is called gay as an insult, if your friend is trashed and disparaged, if his or her personality and appearance and orientation is made fun of, you stand up. You stand up to the bully. You don’t sit and take it, you don’t cower in a corner and let the bully have his way. 

The fact is, we live in a society where the bully is victimized. The rapist, the murderer, the pervert, the instigator- victims. And you know what? That is wrong. It’s wrong, and I won’t stand for it. Who are you to insult someone’s personality, someone’s appearance? Who are you to think you can get away with such words, words that could potentially be the cause of someone’s death?!

I’d draw those triangles, I’d sign B up for those emails again in a heartbeat. Because I protect and cherish and love my friends, and anyone who tries to hurt them, anyone who slanders them, is going down. My apology was most definitely not sincere. B, quite frankly, is an over-glorified bully, not a weeping victim; I won’t play into the administration’s mind games. 

They let B get off scot-free despite all of the evidence my friends and I piled against him. They claimed that we were all liars, that B was the only one who could validate himself; a funny claim, seeing as how 7 people testified the same story against B, who had no other person testify for him. We were shocked that, after fighting for a week to be heard, B was released as innocent. 

And the incident that takes the icing of the cake? Not only did I have to apologize to B, but you know who else did? Bon Cavalish, the actual victim, the target of this bully. 

And if that isn’t messed up, I don’t know what is.