#[ i haven't had a muse so loud in my head for years

[rafayel-fishie-moving]

((Sorry but I just can’t help but be really tickled by how our RP is… Like That, in the middle of so many more lighthearted and horny ones shfjkdf 😭😭😭 I hope it’s not too weird?? It might just be me but I feel some kinda vibe from it but idk what lmao))

- 🌱

🫧 It's not weird at all! I'm enjoying our RP.

I love all the RPs that are going on, in a way it kind of balances things out and keeps things interesting and fun. That's one of the blessed things about the world of RP, the ideas are endless! And if you ever want to start up other ones, feel free to! I don't mind.

It's always such a joy waking up to asks and getting to spend time with you guys. Also, I absolutely live to feed peoples' delulu.

So I can only hope I can continue delivering for you and others with Rafayel. ❤️‍🔥

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Let me stay small, please (let me wait a little longer)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: slytherin reader, you grow and you change and you can't really stop it, the world spins on and all that, you can go back to the past but no one's there anymore, guys I promise it's actually very lighthearted I'm just going bonkers rn

a/n: it's autumn and I'm so happy this is my time this is my moment. I'm posting this from my phone and I'm so scared that the formatting is fucked pls tell me

A cool breeze blows by and you know that if you could see Sirius's face, if your head wasn't resting against his shoulder with your eyes fluttered closed, you'd be able to see the concerned frown that you're sure is tugging at his lips. His jacket was draped over your shoulders ages ago and he pulls at it now, tucking you further into the warmth of it as you press against his side.

"I won't freeze, you know," you murmur, admittedly half asleep. You hear him scoff, another gust of wind blowing through and rattling the leaves on the trees, sending them spiralling down in flashes of oranges and reds down to where you're sitting.

"It's getting colder," Sirius points out, and your slow, sleepy state makes it difficult for him to embody his usual loud, snippy tone. "It won't do any of us any good if you catch a cold right as the semester's starting, sweet thing."

"Well," you drawl quietly, letting your eyes flutter open so that you can tilt your head back and look up at him. "You'll do my homework for me if I do get sick, won't you, baby?"

"I will not," he sniffs indignantly. "And neither will Remus, before you even ask him. You know he'll just bring your books to bed and help you from there."

"Whatever," you say as you wave your hand dismissively and blow a puff of air from your cheeks. "James will do it for me."

"Well, probably, yes," James's chipper voice makes the two of you look up as he and Remus join you, settling against the huge oak tree that you and Sirius had been leaning against. "But what am I doing for you, love?"

"My homework," you clarify. "But only if I get sick."

"Why would you get sick," Remus frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Hm, no reason," you shrug absently, and Sirius huffs rather dramatically at your dismissal. 

"Well, good," James plows on. "Now that we're all back together, there's no time for any of that." He flicks you ever so gently on the forehead as he speaks, that familiar teasing tilt colouring his voice as he grins. You roll your eyes and relax further into Sirius, knowing that James is likely already planning some sort of prank or party or god knows what else.

"Speaking of," Sirius chimes in, bumping his shoulder a bit to get your attention as Remus settles on his other side and curls into him, leaving James to sit in front of you and pick leaves and grass blades off of your pants for you. "I haven't heard anything about Slytherin's first party yet - what's that about, no housewarming this year?" 

"Well, we were talking about it," you muse, shrugging a bit as the three of them stare at you and blink owlishly at your words. "It's our turn to host the Halloween party this year and you know we always go all out for that. I don't know, we just thought it might be a bit much to do the two back-to-back." Sirius sniffs at your words, pursing his lips like he's trying not to say something that he knows will egg you on as Remus leans forward to look at you better.

"Well, I wouldn't know…" he begins, and your eyes narrow at the teasing mirth that's entered his voice. "But last year Gryffindor hosted the Halloween party and we still managed to do both, but I guess that's different." You stand up abruptly at his words, brushing stray leaves off of you as you begin to stomp back towards the castle, the three of them scrambling to stand amidst their laughter and chase after you.

"Love, where are you going?" James calls as he jogs to catch up to you, standing in front of you so that he can walk backwards as you continue to march on.

"Oh, I just have a party to plan - you know, Slytherin housewarming party and all that, lots to do," you say flippantly, scowling as you hear Remus laugh and Sirius cheer from somewhere behind you. You do slow your pace, though, as you walk through the courtyard, letting the three of them fall into step with you once more.

"You should let me help with the playlist," Sirius offers smugly, but you just shove him with your shoulder in response, his jacket still hanging off of your frame.

"Make your own playlist - don't you have our own party to plan?" you quip. He just laughs, though, as Remus slings an arm around your shoulders.

"And make sure it's not on the same night as ours, my love," he says helpfully, something mischievous twinkling in his eye as he pulls you closer. "We wouldn't want any competition with attendance - somebody's bound to get their feelings hurt."

"You three, most likely," you tease back, but James reaches from where he's walking behind you to pinch at the back of your thighs, delighted when you make an embarrassing sort of sound and turn briefly to smack him on the shoulder. 

"Really, though," he adds as you turn for one of the many winding staircases heading down to the dungeons. "We need to be able to go to both, so just -"

"We'll do it the weekend after yours," you say in defeat, stopping to spin around in the deserted stairwell to look up at him. "Happy?"

"Very," James grins, leaning down to press a quick little kiss of victory to your lips as Sirius frowns.

"That's not fair," he chimes in. "That means you get to see ours first and plan ahead."

"I think I've already seen yours first, babe," you say pointedly, making Remus snort and bury his face in your hair to hide a laugh while Sirius flushes crimson and turns his head away.

"Anyway," he barrels on. "Why not just do things the same way we did them last year?"

"Because…" you shrug, watching as James pats a hand rather consolingly onto Sirius's head. "It's not last year. This year's different - it's new and everything's changing and we might as well follow suit."

Things…  quiet down a bit at that, everything settling as you shift on your feet and Remus tangles his fingers with yours in a nervous sort of habit. Outside of the stairwell, other students can be heard laughing and gossiping about the new academic year and everything that they think will come with it. 

"It doesn't have to," Sirius says stubbornly. "Why can't things just stay the same?"

"I don't know," you say softly as James runs a hand through Sirius's hair. "I think things change even if we don't want them to. I'm not sure we have much control over it."

Sirius looks at you a bit imploringly for a moment before letting his eyes flit over the other two - at the messy curls of James's hair where it's grown more over the summer and at the height of Remus as he stands taller than he did last year. Sirius is sure, even if he doesn't want to admit it, that he'd find changes in himself as well if he dared to look in a mirror. 

But then he looks at you and, although you've undoubtedly changed as well, your eyes still look at him with love and patience and trust, and he feels his shoulders drop just a bit in defeat - and maybe, just a little, in comfort, as well.

"Well," he huffs, crossing his arms and pretending to scowl at you even as he eyes soften. "Just don't steal any of our party ideas."

"Like I'd need to," you quip back, spinning on your heel and continuing down the spiralling stairs. "If anyone's doing the stealing, it'll be you lot taking ideas from us."

Three indignant voices ricochet off of the stone walls as they chase after you, shouting and carrying on about the insult of it all. You step a little surer, though, and laugh a little louder, and as Sirius catches up to you and drops a gentle kiss to your forehead, you're not sure you mind the changes. You're not sure that it matters, really, how much the world spins outside when everything right here is just the same as it always has been. 

[millieisawriter]

For old times' sake

javier escuella x reader

summary: you stumble upon a man you haven't seen since the gang fell apart. a man you have a history with. a man you now hate with passion, and vice versa. it takes just a few glasses of tequila for the thin line between longing and loathing to get blurry.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: entirety of this is a smut, dub con, hate sex, sex under the influence, use of derogatory/objectifying language, face slapping (like twice only tho), rough sexual practices, spitting (like once), toxicity

obviously this is a 18+ piece, do i have to make it any clearer?

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this was requested♡

a/n: this is what 163 days without sex and a bit of whiskey at midnight did to my writing. hope you enjoy. please don't yell at me. if anyone needs me, i'll be hiding under my bed. also, wrote this one on my phone, sorry for any possible mistakes

"Tequila, por favor," you said, tossing some money onto the bar.

Your accent made it clear you weren't from here. However, the bartender didn't seem to care. He poured you a glass and turned to the next customer. Meanwhile, you brought the glass to your lips and tipped your head back, swallowing the liquid in one go. It burnt your throat, and you loved it. It was a feeling you had gotten used to.

Then you heard it. A voice you hadn't heard in years, and didn't think you'd hear ever again.

"Look who it is," Javier sneered. He was leaning against a nearby wall when you turned to look at him. "Long time no see, traidora."

He looked different. As if the years had been as unkind to him as they were to you. Despite that he looked somehow... more attractive. There was just something desirable in the time and pain written on his face.

But his intense gaze burned through you the same, just like the liquor did to your throat a moment prior.

"Javier Escuella," you mused out loud, smirking as you watched the man approach closer. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Should've let me keep thinking I'm what you came here for."

"You ain't. But I'm glad I found you. You look good."

"Do I?" he tilted his head. "Maybe it's because I don't have to live with the guilt of betraying my family."

"You wound me, Javier," you theatrically sighed, "are you saying I don't look good?"

Javier smirked and shook his head at your playful comment. It wasn't time nor place to play that game. Yet it was good to know that overly confident side trait never left you.

"You look more than good," the man decided to play along, "you still look fuckable— "

"Ain't you just the perfect gentleman?"

"—like a whore."

The last part caught you slightly off guard, but you quickly composed yourself. "I ain't drank enough to be spoken to like this."

"Next round is on me, then."

Javier slid onto the stool next to you, casually leaning against the counter as if that were just one of friendly reunions. He ordered drinks for the both of you, so at least you hadn't come for nothing.

"I never thought you could get meaner, but here you are," you let out a low chuckle.

"Meaner?" Javier repeated. "I'm buying you a drink, how's that mean?"

"Cause you're just tryna get into my pants."

"I didn't suggest that, not yet at least. But now that you mention it, we could do that. For the old times' sake, right?"

The bartender put another glass in front of you. This time a bit fuller, so you didn't down it immediately. Instead, you took the glass and eyed the liquid inside, as if searching for an answer.

"Usually I like to shoot men that offer me sex," you spoke quietly, your gaze still on the glass, "but you're lucky I'm feeling sentimental and horny tonight."

"Horny never was something you lacked," he drank his own drink, "glad to see that didn't change."

So a few drinks and many smart-ass comments later you found yourself following Javier upstairs, to a room he rented for the night. For old times sake, as he put it. Maybe you were just curious if he was still as good as back in your gang days, back when he was quite an often guest in your tent late at night.

Javier slammed the door shut after the two of your entered the rented room, and no sooner his lips were on yours. The strength of his body pressing onto yours forced you to take a few steps back, your back eventually meeting with the wall. His fingers impatiently undid your corset, then danced with the buttons of a shirt you wore beneath it, but you shouldn't have judged him for the quick pace since your hands were trying to get him undressed just as fast.

You lost the track of reality in that moment, the tension that had been building up in you finally able to get some relief.

"You know," you managed to find a moment to speak again, "I always wondered what I'd do if I ever met you again."

"Mhm," Javier hummed in response, not interested in what you were saying. His focus was mostly on undoing your pants after he had lied you on the bed.

"Thought maybe I'd just walk away. Or maybe I'd kill you. But this... this might be better."

Javier suddenly took your face in his hand. No, actually, he grabbed it. He grabbed it so hard your lips formed a duck face.

"You didn't talk as much shit back in the days," Javier commented. "I really wanted to fuck you, but you're making me wanna put your mouth to a different use."

If you had to do it, you would have. But you'd prefer not to. After all, you hadn't gotten laid in a long time, and sucking a man off wouldn't help you out in any way. Maybe for the first time you wished you had shut up sooner.

Javier's thumb brushed over your lower lip as a devilish smile appeared on his profile. "Are you gonna keep talking," he let go of your face and gave it a little slap, "or will you give me what I want, hm?"

"Only if you'll give me what I want," you shot back.

That was basically the last sentence that left your mouth before it was stuffed with Javier's cock. The man perched on the edge of the bed, his legs spread to make space for you on your knees.

His dick seemed to fit in your throat like a missing piece of a puzzle. Almost as if every curve, every vein was designed for your throat to take. His size made you fight holding back a cough, and as much as you could stop it by occasionally pulling away to run your tongue over the tip, you had to close your eyes to stop the tears which only increased every time Javier forced your head back down. You couldn't give him the satisfaction.

When the man saw that, he yanked your head back by your hair, stopping you. "I want you to look me in the eyes."

Unfortunately, it seemed you'll have to give him the satisfaction. As you opened your eyelids, the tears ran down from the corners of your eyes, ruining the eyeliner you had on.

"Back to work now," he ordered, and for some reason you obeyed without an argument.

His hand was still in your hair, now just gently resting there, as your mouth descended down his cock again. You did it slowly, and never breaking the eye contact, as he wished.

A low groan left the man's mouth when his hand started to set the pace and rhythm. At one point stopping the cough became impossible, you couldn't help but choke after his cock hit the back of your throat for what felt like the hundredth time. The faster he started to guide your head, the more afraid you were that's how it's gonna end. And you'd be left there with no profit.

Just then, he once again pulled your head away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth with the tip of his cock. "Enough," he rasped heavily, "I didn't drag you up here just for that."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving the man a smirk. "I was starting to get worried."

"Worried I'd forget you're not a paid whore?"

His comment ignited a flicker of anger in you. "And here I was hoping you'll pretend to have kept an ounce of courtesy."

"Am I wrong, though?" he asked, helping you up. "Isn't that what you'd always been to me?"

You shoved him back so that he lied down, and your hands were on his chest as you straddled him. "From what I remember, you were obsessed with me."

"There's a lot of things a man will say or do to get what he wants."

With that, he pulled you into an aggressive kiss. He didn't let you be the one in advantage for long. His strong arms grabbed you in a way that let him easily turn so that you were now underneath him.

"Don't treat me like..." you stuttered out, "like I'm some kind of an object..."

"Mhm," he muttered against the skin of your neck, his lips marking you even if this would never happen again.

"...b-because I ain't just—"

He interrupted you. "Of course you ain't," his tone was mocking, and as he said the sentence, his dick entered your heated core with a violent force.

It was as if he had done it for the first time. You were tight, and his dick was hard as a rock. You thanked yourself in your thoughts for being such a horny little bitch, because it would have been quite painful if your cunt hadn't been dripping from all that build up tension.

Secretly, you liked the way he talked to you. You didn't remember him to be this disrespectful, he was always putting up an appearance of a hopeless romantic. Turns out it was exactly what it was, just an appearance to get laid easier. Now he knew he didn't have to pretend anymore. But you liked it. It was something that made your mind beg for more.

"Fuck, Javier," you involuntarily moaned out. You didn't plan on doing that, but the way his dick pounded into your cervix, like it was going to leave a bruise, made you see stars.

"Mhm, what is it?" he asked, one of his hands going to grab your face again. "What are you calling my name for?" and he gave you another slap on the cheek.

"I fucking hate you," you declared right into his face.

This time he didn't have any smart comment to shoot back with. Instead he forced his thumb into your mouth, making you open it just so that he could spit into it.

"Swallow it, puta."

You caught yourself fulfilling his order before thinking about it. His spit tasted no other than the alcohol you had drank tobegher earlier, with a tint of tobacco.

You hissed, "You're disgusting."

"And you talk way too fucking much."

He pulled out of you just to quickly take ahold of your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as if punishing you for talking back. With one quick move, Javier flipped you over onto your stomach.

"Ass up."

You weren't going to listen this time. "No."

He laughed darkly, the sound filled with sarcasm. "You don't get to say no."

He didn't need your obedience to force his dick back inside. Since you didn't want to do as he said, he was going to deal with that another way. He pounded into you as you lied flat on your stomach. You thought he couldn't fuck into you any deeper, but this position proved you wrong.

It felt too damn good for you to try to restrain the moans that were spilling out of your mouth. You knew it was serving to feed Javier's ego, and you hated the idea of it.

So you had to insult him a little more between the thrusts. "You're... a... fucking... idiot!"

It didn't stop his thrusts from becoming harder, more forceful, a punishment to your defiance. In fact, your words only spurred him on. The bed creaked beneath the strength of his movements.

You hated the way your own body betrayed you. The way your pussy got more and more wet by the moment. Well, at least you didn't have to look Javier in the face.

"Seems you're into it," the man retorted as the room grew rich into the squelch of your dripping core gratefully taking his cock.

"All these years and you're the same asshole," you tried to argue, at the same time subconsciously tilting your pelvis back. "Oh, shit," you whined at the sensation of his dick being buried even deeper than before.

The line between hate and desire blurred completely. Your body gave in to the pleasure, and you let the man do whatever he wished to.

You felt Javier slow down for a moment, just to grab your hips and force them up. He had you where he wanted you from the beginning. Before you could even think of anything to say, he slammed into you, now the sound of his skin slapping against yours more apparent than ever.

You buried your face into the pillow that muffled your sounds at least to some extent. The more he fucked into you, the less you could think, and maybe he finally fucked the ability to talk back out of you. The tension in your lower abdomen grew tighter, every inch of your body begging for a release.

"Fucked out whore," Javier said, but your head was empty of any replies.

All you could do was grip the sheets tighter. Your body was moving on its own, rocking in the right rhythm to cooperate with the man. His force, with which he took you, rid your mind of any thoughts. You just needed to hold on, because it felt too damn good, and you were too close to the edge, to fight it anymore.

"Fuck, I can't hold it anymore," the man grunted through gritted teeth. You could feel his cock starting to twitch, and you knew it could mean only one thing.

Javier's breathing grew more rugged as he neared his climax. Feeling you tighen up around him was all he needed. With one final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you. You cried out, having reached your peak at the same time. Your cunt pulsed around his twitching cock as he shot his release into you. It was warm, flooding your core, filling you up to the brim.

And that was it. You let him treat you like a whore for old times sake. Was it worth it? It was a question you were going to have a lot of time to ponder over.

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Eight

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The softness of the mattress was enough to comfort me as my fingers turned the old pages in the journal while it laid in my lap. Steve mentioned that Tony wanted to double check the time machine before we ran the test run so I decided to use that time for myself; quiet time in my room reading Bucky’s old journals. 

I remember my room back in the forties, back at my childhood home. There wasn’t much but it was enough to call my own. What I miss most about it was the picture of my sister, mom, and I. I never got to bring it with me before heading to basic training for the war. It was one of my many regrets in life. 

Bringing my finger to my lips, I quickly licked in then turned the next page. Bucky’s chicken scratch for handwriting brought a warm remembrance to my heart. This had become a nightly ritual the last few years. Before Bucky was dusted, I promised him that I wouldn’t ever read his other journals but after he was gone, I said to hell with that promise. I missed him and I needed to have a part of him with me again. 

Time had passed, the moon slowly rising over the tops of the trees outside, the glow casting the room in a white light from the floor to ceiling windows. I curled deeper under the blanket, wanting nothing more than to immerse myself into Bucky’s words, and soon my eyes became heavy. Sleep was long overdue and it took my fast. 

Soft music played throughout the ballroom, myself being the only person inside. The bottom of my black ball gown trailed behind me as I took in my surroundings. The empty dance floor and tables suddenly became filled with bodies, laughing and smiling. Women were dressed in dresses while the men were dressed in their military uniforms and it became very clear where I was. 

It was after World War Two and the men of the war finally had come home. 

“Doll?” 

Turning on my heels, I was met with those brown eyes that I missed fondly. His voice wasn’t talking to me in my head anymore, he was standing in front of me. 

“Bucky?” I muttered, lips trembling. 

Gone was the beard and long hair, standing in front of me dressed in his military uniform. But what pulled at my heart was his left arm; it was completely flesh. The vibranium arm was a mere forgotten memory. 

“God, you look beautiful, Y/N.” Bucky mused while pulling me into his warm embrace. 

He smelled exactly how I remembered. 

“Can I have this dance?” He asked with a slight smirk. 

Our bodies swayed together as we danced along to the slow tunes of the song and I marveled at the softness of his bare cheek as my fingers cupped them. I softly gazed into his eyes, thankful that he was back in my arms again. 

“I missed you so much, Bucky,” I admitted. 

“I’m never leaving again. I’m back where I belong,” he lifted my chin to lock our eyes. 

I stood on my toes while he leaned in closer, bringing our lips closer and closer by mere inches. However before they could clash together, he vanished through my fingers when a loud knock sounded in my ears. 

My eyes snapped open, staring up at the white ceiling of my room. The dream had ended and I realized that I had been dancing with Bucky’s ghost. 

Another knock sounded on my door but I was too defeated to answer. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, who’s at the door?” I questioned the A.I of Avengers Tower. 

“Mr. Rogers.” 

“Let him in,” I commanded with a soft sigh. 

The door clicked open as soon Steve was standing at the foot of my bed, watching me cuddle the pillow close to my chest. 

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, knowing what was going through my mind. 

“Nope.” 

He let out a loud breath while running a hand through his hair then sat at the end of the bed. 

“I know you miss him, Y/N. I do too but you can’t let it stop you from living,” he started. 

I sat up in bed, my back hitting the headboard. “If you’re going to tell me that I need to move on then don’t. How can you tell me to move on when you’re still in love with a girl you’ve kissed once?” 

Steve’s eyes hardened. “People tend to forget that I’d know her for years.” 

“So you would give everything up to be with her?” I questioned. 

 I didn’t need to hear his answer, I already knew it. 

His shoulders tensed while he hesitated. 

“Exactly. Are we ready to do this test run?” I asked, changing the subject. 

Steve nodded. “You’re sure you want to do this?” 

It was my turn to nod. “If it allows me to bring everyone back then I’m sure as hell.” 

Nat pulled the zipper of my suit all the way up before walking around me, facing me with a questionable look. 

“Please be careful,” she stated. “I need you back here to help me with these idiots.” 

I laughed as we looked at our team, our family. We were all ready to put everything on the line to bring our other family back and undo everything Thanos did with the snap. 

“They would be lost without us, huh?” I said while watching Tony mess with Scott. 

Nat agreed and gently pushed me towards the platform. 

The steps seemed large as I ascended towards the middle, ready for the wild ride I was about to head on. All of their eyes were on me, Steve’s harder than others. I knew he didn’t agree with my decision but he couldn't stop me. I needed to do this. 

“Any idea where you want to go?” Bruce asked as he started the machine up, turning on countless buttons. 

I shrugged. “Wherever my subconscious takes me, I guess.

“You only have five minutes before we bring you back. It will seem like years to you but to us it’s minutes. Don’t talk with your past self or anyone.” Scott rambled on. 

With a deep breath, I placed Bucky’s old mask on my face and gave Bruce a nod, letting him know that I was ready. 

Steve and my eyes met and I gave him a thumbs up to reassure him that I would be fine. 

“See you in five,” I yelled before I felt myself being sucked below the platform.

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Part 10

Eris x Azriel's Sister OC

Summary: Estella is the younger sister of Azriel. Like her older brother, she is a shadowsinger and spymaster for the Night Court. When she meets Eris, she initially despises him, but after a bargain is made between them, and they are stuck Under the Mountain together, things begin heating up.

CW: mentions of child abuse

AN: ik, ik, main character who plays piano and loved the symphony, how original. but i genuinely didn't put the pieces together until after i thought this up.

Word Count: 1946

Series Masterlist

Part 9 || Part 11

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year 19 Year 15 Under the Mountain

     Attending a ball was the last thing on Estella's mind, especially after what had happened at the last one she'd attended.

     There was one tonight, and she'd decided she wouldn't go. Rhys wouldn't be there, anyway. Seeing Rhys was the only reason she ever attended Amarantha's festivities. Even if she couldn't always speak with him, just a glimpse of him made it worth it.

     Things had been tense between her and Eris in the last five years. Of course, they were both used to fighting. They were always fighting. Yet, despite the intensity of their arguments, the fling between them persisted.

     Estella was currently on her way to his bedroom. He was a nice distraction; that was all he was. She wasn't sure why she couldn't find a nice distraction with any other male. Estella and Eris had nearly two decades of history. That made things easier. Knowing that neither of them owed the other anything.

     When she arrived, she found his bedroom empty. She huffed, checking the clock on the wall. He had told her he'd be back by now. 

     So Estella plopped down onto his bed, breathing in his scent, then scolded herself when she realized she was savoring it.

     The door swung open, and she sat up to welcome him, pausing in shock when she locked eyes with another female.

      The Lady of Autumn stood in the doorway, her russet eyes wide. Her red hair, which fell down her shoulders, was almost lifeless. She was much too thin, and her face was gaunt.

     Estella flushed a deep red, hurriedly scrambling from Eris's bed.

"Oh, dear, I apologize," she said quietly, her voice meeker than Estella expected. "I was looking for my son."

"No, my Lady, I'm sorry," Estella stammered, curtsying clumsily. "This . . . this isn't what it looks like, I was just looking for him, I'm so sorry--"

"No need for that," she assured Estella, a slight smile on her lips. It looked out of place for her and didn't reach her eyes. "I will come back later."

     Just as she was making to leave, Eris came strolling into the room. He seemed almost carefree until he took in the view before him. His amber eyes widened, flitting from Estella to his mother, then back.

     He cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting Estella a look before turning to his mother.

"Mother, I--"

"I don't want to know, Eris," she told her son. "We'll talk about it later."

"Don't tell--"

"I won't." 

     With that, she was gone.

     Estella loosed a breath of relief, collapsing headfirst onto his bed. He closed the door behind him, making a point to lock it.

"That was humiliating," Estella grumbled into his pillow.

"Agreed," he said, sitting beside her. "But she won't tell anybody."

"Does she know that we're--" she trailed off, usually not speaking the word 'mate' out loud.

"No," he admitted, shaking his head just once. "Nobody knows."

"I haven't told anybody, either," Estella said.

"I figured," he scoffed. "Your brothers would've strung me up by now if they knew." She couldn't entirely disagree.

"Well, I think the mood has officially been ruined," Estella declared, sitting up and making to leave.

"Wait," he said. Estella froze, turning her attention to him. "The ball tonight. Come with me."

"No."

"Why not?" he mused with a carefree smile. "I have nobody to go with. Might as well be you."

"I'm flattered," Estella glared.

"Besides, Amarantha is hosting a meeting with the High Lords during the ball," he reminded her. "Your brother and my father won't be there."

"Your brothers--"

"Will be too drunk to see straight," he assured her. "The ballroom beside it will be empty. We would still be able to hear the music. Then, we'd be alone."

"Why do you want to go with me so badly?" Estella demanded.

"Old time's sake," he shrugged. "Who knows, maybe dancing together again will reverse the mating bond." She snorted.

"Fine," Estella sighed. "But only because I miss music and dance."

"We'll meet at eight," he declared. 

»»————-　♔　————-««

     Estella couldn't believe how nervous she was as she got ready. Rhys had supplied her with some money, so she bought a new ballgown from the seamstress who lived in the room beside hers.

     The dress was made of Night Court colors. A deep violet gown with a flowing skirt and a tight, strapless bodice. One that showed off her breasts in a way she knew would drive Eris wild.

     Mostly, she was looking forward to hearing the orchestra. She loved music, and she always had.

     When she was very little, she'd once broken away from Azriel during her time out of the cell.

     She had run amuck around the house until she found herself in a room. It looked unused, with white sheets covering the furniture. But on a side table, there was a symphonia.

     She hadn't known what it was at the time, so she'd messed with it until it began playing music. She had gasped, sitting beside it and listening.

     By the time her hour was up, Azriel had found her. He'd scolded her for going upstairs as he dragged her back to the cell. The upstairs was strictly forbidden for both of them.

     But she did it again. She found herself in that room nearly every day for months, listening to the music.

     Until the day her stepmother had found her. The lashings the female had bestowed upon the little girl, plus the beating she had gotten from her father, had been severe enough to keep her from going upstairs ever again.

     Noticing little Estella's distress over the lost music, Azriel started singing to soothe her. 

     After they both moved to Windhaven, her new family had trouble connecting with her. She was shy and didn't speak, so they all went to Azriel for advice. He had told them she loved music, jokes, and stories.

     Selene told Estella stories, and she loved them, especially the ones about Selene and Estella's mother from when they were girls together. 

      After his training, Cassian made it his mission to make her laugh daily. He told her jokes and delighted in hearing her laughter. 

     Selene also taught Estella to play the small piano in the sitting room. Estella also loved listening to Selene play.

     Over the years, she became a very skilled pianist. Her brothers always said she should've made a career out of it, but she didn't want it to become a job. She loved it simply for the art.

     Every time they went to Velaris, Selene took all of them to the symphony. From the first time when Estella was seven, she fell in love. 

     But after Selene died, they all struggled to return. It wasn't until decades after her death that they all decided she would've wanted them to attend and enjoy it for her.

     So years later, every year on the day Selene died, the family would all attend the symphony in her memory. And the Velaris orchestra always dedicated the music to her on that specific night.

     Estella stared at herself in the mirror. She had lost weight, just as everyone had under here. They were kept from starvation, but Amarantha made sure none of them were well fed. She only supplied food at her parties.

     Her skin had taken on a lighter tone, yet it still glowed with the rich undertones of her Illyrian heritage. It had been a long time since she'd basked in the sun's warmth.

     Despite that, she looked beautiful in her dress. Her hair was curled, her makeup simple.

     Estella looked just like her mother when her hair was curled. She missed the female so dearly. She hoped Azriel was visiting her regularly and her mother wasn't too worried about her.

     Thoughts of her mother kept her distracted from the nerves as she strolled through the corridors to the ballroom.

     She fidgeted with her scarred hands, trying not to chew on her lower lip and ruin her red lipstick.

     Estella carefully snuck into the empty ballroom beside the one buzzing with life and music. She was good at blending into the shadows, so nobody noticed when she slipped into the other room.

     Eris was already there, looking fine in his maroon suit. He turned, his amber eyes meeting hers. The breath loosed from her throat at the sight of him. He was so incredibly handsome. It still shocked her.

     She could hear the music playing from the other room. She closed her eyes for a moment, indulging in the notes. The beauty of music always relaxed her.

     When she opened her eyes, Eris reached out his hand to her. Estella curtsied and took it.

"You clean up nice," he commented.

     Estella rolled her eyes, placing her other hand on his shoulder as his went to her waist. And she began to dance.

"Wish I could say the same of you," Estella lied.

"Is that why your heart skipped a beat when you saw me?" he taunted her with a smirk. "Interesting."

"You're a prick," she mumbled. He only grinned, spinning her.

     Eris was an excellent dancer. She could keep up with him, but her skill paled in comparison.

"Where did you learn to dance properly?" he asked her.

"What?" Estella demanded, making a sour face.

"I wouldn't think a bastard would be taught to dance," he explained. She only glared.

"Rhysand taught me," she admitted. "When I was ten."

     Selene had gotten her a symphonia, and Rhys taught her to dance with it. He saw her jealousy of him going to important High Lord balls, so he taught her.

     He had been thirteen but tall for his age. And Estella had been ten and small for hers. So she stood on his feet, reaching up to hold onto him.

     He began taking Estella as his date to every ball as she got older. It was one of the reasons he had taken her to the masquerade with him.

     He knew she thought badly of herself, being so low-born. So he did his best to make her feel special.

     He was never embarrassed to bring his little sister as his date, even after he became High Lord. He said he loved seeing her face light up, and it always did when she entered the ball on his arm.

"He taught you well," he complimented. "You dance just fine for a bastard."

"You don't need to follow up a compliment with an insult every time," Estella said to him, exasperated.

"I'm a cruel bastard, remember?" he scoffed. "What else would you expect?"

"Despite what I may have said five years ago," Estella began. "I do not believe you are as cruel as you pretend to be."

"You don't?" he hummed.

"Rhysand wears a mask," she said. "Everyone thinks him cruel. But he isn't. I think it's the same with you."

"Why would you possibly think that?"

"You invited me here tonight," Estella shrugged. "You've been a prick but never cruel to me. You respect my boundaries in bed. You treat your mother well. You didn't turn me in when you found me spying in your court."

"We made a bargain," he reminded her.

"Even without the bargain, looking back, I doubt you would've turned me in," Estella mused. "I didn't know it back then, but now . . . "

"You think you know me now," he murmured.

"Yes, I do," Estella confirmed. "Don't think this means anything. I still despise you, Vanserra."

"I would be concerned if you didn't," he stated, dipping her.

     This time, no bond snapped as she stared up into his eyes. But that bond in her chest sang.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @a-court-of-mischief-and-madness @sourapplex @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @i-know-i-can @mp-littlebit @paintedbyshadows @kristijenner19 @kitsunetori @lorosette @bookwormysblog

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[honeyxbee]

Bad Idea — Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna x fem!reader

TW: suggestiveness, demon summoning, murder of side-characters, blood, threats of violence words: 1008

This is a stupid idea.

You let out a small sigh as you turn off the living room lights, joining your friends on the floor of your childhood home. It looks strange with all the furniture pushed up against the walls, but you had to make enough room for all of you to sit in a circle in the middle of the room.

It turns out that attempting to summon a demon is actually a very technical process.

"..I really don't think this is a good idea," you murmur as you join your friends in the candle-lit circle on the floor, hesitantly joining hands with the two closest to you. Your eyes linger on the thick book in the hands of the girl sitting across from you, a strange feeling settling in your chest that you can't quite place.

Discomfort maybe? Or perhaps unease?

You're not quite sure. But apparently, you're the only one who feels it because the rest of your childhood friends are chatting back and forth like normal. The girl sitting in front of you looks up from where she was skimming the pages of the book, giving you her typical easygoing smile. "Oh, c'mon! You gotta stop worrying so much; everything's going to be fine," she reassures with a lazy wave of her hand.

Of course she would say that, you think to yourself. This was her idea in the first place.

Your friend sitting to your left must recognize your thoughts because she laughs, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you're chickening out? Even 12-year-olds do this stuff," she teases, giggling when you just let out a small huff and roll your eyes.

The friend sitting on your other side rolls her eyes, a small, fond smile on her face at your back-and-forth. "It's weird to think that we're actually starting university next week," she murmurs. "..This could be the last night we're all together." Her words make the room go quiet for a moment of contemplation.

"..It won't be. Now enough of all that sentimental bullshit," the girl sitting across from you jokingly breaks the silence as she sets the open book on the floor in front of her. "Are we summoning this demon or not?" The other girls nod in confirmation, joining hands and looking at you expectantly.

After a moment of hesitation, you sigh. "..Fine," you murmur, reluctantly grabbing the hands of the girls beside you. Your friend sitting in front of you smiles victoriously at your agreement, skimming the pages of the book for a last time to ensure that you guys haven't forgotten anything, and then she begins reciting the summoning mantra from the book. As the words fill the empty air, you feel like you're going to vomit, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then she goes silent, and you wait. And wait. And wait.

Nothing.

"..That's it?" your friend to your left finally breaks the silence, the disappointment evident in her voice as she drops her hands in her lap. "That sucks."

The girl sitting in front of you nods, sighing as she rereads the open pages of the book and then closes it. "Yeah. I guess it doesn't work after all. Too bad, It would've been pretty badass if it actually worked."

"Speak for yourself. I would've run out of the house screaming if something actually appeared," your other friend muses, making the rest of you laugh as you turn the lights back on and begin putting the living room back to normal.

When the living room is picked up and all the furniture is back in place, your friends grab the pizza from the kitchen and get comfortable on the couch. "I'm gonna go put on my pajamas, and then we can start our movie marathon," you say as you toss them the TV remote and head to your bedroom to change.

You grab some clothes to toss on, rolling your eyes when you hear a loud thump from the living room. "You better not break anything," you call out. When you're finished, you walk out, furrowing your brows in confusion when you notice just how quiet it is. "..Guys?"

The first thing you notice when you walk into your living room is the overwhelming scent of iron that lingers in the air, making you feel almost nauseated. The second thing is the bodies of your friends, scattered about the room like broken dolls.

And then you see him, casually leaning against the wall, covered in blood. "Ah, it seems that I've missed one," he murmurs offhandedly as he approaches you.

You stumble backward in an attempt to escape, but you collide with his hard chest instead. He grabs your shoulders and turns you around to face him, your breath hitching in panic when your wide eyes meet his. "H-how did you-?" you stammer out, your eyes darting to where he was previously standing in front of you, but he just laughs.

"You're quite the lively human, aren't you?" he muses. "The others couldn't even manage to get a word out...Quite attractive too," he murmurs as he looks you over. You push at his chest, your lips parting to scream for help, but he tsks and quickly moves his hand over your mouth. "Nuh-uh, none of that. If you scream, I'll rip your tongue out," he warns.

Something tells you he's not bluffing. So you clamp your mouth shut, and he pats your cheek in what resembles approval. "Good, you know how to listen. I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer with complete honesty. Understand?"

Your eyes dart over to the corpses of your friends, and you slowly nod your head, making him grin and move his hand away from your mouth. "Good. I was going to kill you like I did the others, but perhaps I'll let you live after all." He takes a small step back, though his eyes linger on your body. "..After all, I'm sure I could find some other use for you."

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 3

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: there will be romance but I haven't finalised who yet. platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: swearing

context: Sadie, a 20 year old university student from Melbourne, decided to take a gap year and volunteer at 2 Formula One races in different countries.

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

comments: I guess this is a series now. I'm keeping the title Get Your Shit Together because I think Sadie is the kind of person who pretends to have her shit together but doesn't, so she helps everyone else get theirs together.

Part 1 | Masterlist

----$----

Max Verstappen was in a paddock interview when someone caught his eye. Dark brown hair, round face, sharp nose and a confident aura that compared to no others.

“Wait- hang on. Lewis, Lewis.” The older man looked over and his gaze followed Max’s pointed finger. “Mate, is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah mate, I think so.” Lewis’ smile only grew as he agreed.

“Who are you pointing too?” the interviewer asked.

Max hoped that she was just out of view of the cameras as he said, “the volunteer from Australia. The good one.”

He didn’t know how else to explain his respect for her in English; to him, she was good.

“It’ll be good to finally learn her name,” Lewis mused, scratching at his neat stubble.

“None of you know her name?” The reporter asked.

“No,” Lewis said into Max’s microphone. “I never had the chance to find her after the interviews.”

“I saw her the next day, I apologised for my behaviour to her,” Max commented. “But I forgot to ask her for her name.”

The reporter shook his head. “Alright well, thank you both for your time.”

Max nodded respectfully while Lewis said, “thank you.”

Then they both charged through the crowd towards the last place they saw the woman.

“Bets on her name?” Lewis asked.

“I don’t know. Something very Australian?”

“I feel like she’s a Layla or a Nira.”

"I think it's Sadie," came Lando's voice as he squished himself between the champions. "I asked Dave, one of the McLaren staff."

But when they reached the spot she had been, she'd vanished.

Max frowned and tried to use his height to see her but it was hopeless. Lewis pulled his phone out of nowhere and dialed a number. Lando just sat on the edge of a nearby pot plant.

"Heya," Lewis said into his phone. "I'm gonna need a paddock pass for our garage."

A pause.

"No, ass. I haven't found someone for the weekend and I don't intend to. It's for the girl from Melbourne, the volunteer George told you about... Yes, I know Carmen wants to meet her, that's why I'm asking you for a paddock pass."

Lando laughed from his seat, something boisterous and loud that had surrounding staff glancing over. Max was glad to hear his laugh again, it had been too long since they had hung out.

"No, I don't know her last name. I haven't even confirmed her first name... I can't ask her, she's not in front of me... I don't know where she is, we saw her from a distance... Max and Lando... Alright, fine. We'll find her."

Lewis hung up and sighed with a glance to the sky.

"They won't give you a pass?" Max guessed.

"They need her name first."

"Did you see who she was with?" Lando asked.

"Yeah," Lewis said. "Some paramedics. I recognised Mark, he's been the on call medic for years."

Max mulled over the fact he hadn't noticed anyone around her. He also mulled over the excitement little Lando Norris was trying to squash.

"I know where the medic tent is." He almost leapt up from his perch.

Lewis gave Max a knowing smirk as they disappeared into the crowd.

——$——

Sadie had no idea they had seen her. She was hoping that none of the drivers would remember her. She still hadn't seen their interviews from Melbourne and was clueless about the actions the FIA had taken to hand out penalties directly after the race.

"Hungry?" Mark, a middle-aged paramedic with greying blonde hair and smile lines besides his eyes, asked.

"I am starving, please tell me there is somewhere I can get a decent sanga."

Mark frowned. "Sanga?"

"Sandwich," Sadie corrected. She was almost bouncing as she spotted the food trucks.

"You Australian's are weird," Mark commented but he couldn't hide his smile.

"And you English are uncultured," she returned.

She liked Mark, they'd met yesterday during practices and clicked. He was her supervisor during the free practice sessions and qualifying but she'd stuck by his side off track too. He didn't mind, he knew she was there, on the other side of the world, alone, to work for a sport she loved.

He'd told her at the volunteer's group dinner last night that she was living the dream he had wanted to at 20. He'd had a couple wines and would not shut up about how much his wife would love to meet her.

"Mark, what do you want?" she called over her shoulder as the reached the sandwich truck. When he didn't reply, she glanced behind her.

He was 100 metres back, talking to none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Sadie turned back around, remembering their interaction in Melbourne.

Another body stepped up beside her, swathed in bright orange.

Correction: Papaya.

Sadie didn't turn, assuming it was a McLaren employee looking fro some early lunch.

"It's a surprise to see you here." Lando offered the icebreaker.

She turned at his voice and fought to keep her composure. His brown curls swished as he turned his head towards her.

"I didn't think you'd remember me," she said truthfully. Sadie focused her eyes on the bridge of his nose as she spoke, she didn't want to meet those ever-changing eyes. She'd already noted that they matched the day's grey sky.

"Most of us did." The driver shrugged. "Carmen, George's partner, wants to meet you. Lewis is trying to get you Mercedes paddock passes."

Sadie groaned at that, stepping closer to the food truck as the line moved forwards. "I'm not stepping near any of your garages unless I'm doing my job. Too many cameras, too many people."

Lando laughed. "Understandable, but Lewis is determined."

Sadie paused for a moment as the line moved again. "How about, I will come and meet George and Carmen after the race? I'll meet Carmen while Lewis and George do their interviews and debriefs?"

The same brown curls swayed as Lando nodded. "I think they'll agree to that. All the cameras will be focused on the interviews and top three."

Sadie made an 'exactly' gesture and stepped up to the food truck with a goodbye wave.

By the time she had ordered her sandwich and Mark's signature wrap, the drivers had finished speaking with the paramedic.

He joined her while they waited.

"You never told me it was you who scolded Max in Melbourne," Mark noted.

Sadie muttered a curse. "I was hoping that everyone had forgotten about that. I lost my temper and I'm not proud of it."

"Lewis said that you stood up for yourself."

"I scolded him like a school teacher."

"You did call him a child."

"Angry, remember?"

"Sandwich and wrap for Sadie!" the food vendor shouted.

She stepped up, collected their food and handed her wrap to Mark.

"I didn't tell anyone about it because don't like media attention," she told him. "I hate how how the media follow the drivers. They have to fight for a private life, and I hate that. Max was angry, I was angry, and that interaction was something between the drivers and I. It had nothing to do with the fan's consumption of the race."

Mark hummed his agreement around his wrap.

"The media circus doesn't know what happened, and they don't need to. His reaction was fair, and they don't need to be involved."

Sadie watched something pass over Mark's face but she couldn't place what it was. She devoured her sandwich instead.

----$----

Please let me know about how you feel about the direction this thing is going!!

[gouraminnow]

No Rest for the Wicked

(Slasher AU | SFW | Yandere Sabo x Reader x Yandere Koala)

You're a goth student at a small university, and end up the victim of a Halloween prank gone wrong. Luckily, the Grad Student Instructor and his partner are awfully eager to help you out.

Haven't written for fun in 4+ years and what was meant to be my silly little Halloween debut oneshot became a 6871 word monster. This is the first part of at least three, things get sketchy as we go :') Gender neutral, but Reader is meant to be goth so there are mentions of corsets and makeup. Still kept the appearance vague bc I kept thinking of the My Immortal opener whenever I started describing outfits </3

TW for: Reader injury/head trauma, bullying uuhhhhhhhhhhh the length of this damn thing. Sorry if your name is Emily. Lmk if I missed anything

You don't like Halloween much, anymore.

Granted, you dressed like it was Halloween every day, but that had always been the case. Leather, carhartt, ripped skirts and jeans, and layer upon layer of black fabric was how you liked to roll. Sometimes a corset if you felt up to it. And eclectic jewelry, because of course. You went to college somewhere small, where that sort of thing was really only seen on TV or grimy band posters. Your style alienated you but you weren’t willing to compromise, so you spent a lot of time alone. This didn’t help the general impression your peers had of you.

So you really should have questioned it when Emily, a sorority girl, suddenly started to try and befriend you. She just sat herself next to you in the library one day and introduced herself. It was strange, but you were strange too, and you didn’t want to judge based on looks. So you accepted it- and soon you struck up an awkward, but nice friendship.

You liked it.

She got you to watch one of her archetypal chick flicks, and you got her to watch a horror movie. You picked a tame one, but it still freaked her out, so you said she never had to watch those with you again. You helped her study, went to the mall, even managed to win some radio lottery for tickets to a band you didn’t care about but she adored. You didn’t end up going, but you gave the three tickets to Emily, who went with two other friends.

And then October came. And you were invited to the yearly Halloween party, at some rich guy’s house out in the woods somewhere. You thought it would be great, your everyday attire was already suitable- but you went the extra mile. You hadn’t been invited to a party like this before. You were surprised you found yourself excited to go in the first place.

And at first, it was fun. Emily gave you a ride- her costume was some cheap, bloody nurse’s dress. “I feel kinda lame standing next to you,” she had said, looking at your black platform boots, torn stockings, corset, and tastefully unbuttoned top. You had eyeball earrings and various chains around your neck and waist, and of course you’d painted your nails black. You had laughed.

“Hey, I could lend you some pieces if you want. It would be nice to not be the only freak.” It was her turn to laugh. 

A little too hard, you thought, but pushed it to the back of your mind.

When you arrived at the house- a gorgeous, three-story place with a wraparound porch and a 2nd floor balcony with a staircase down into the side yard and a fortune in kitschy Halloween decorations like face webs, blood, and plenty of jack-o-lanterns of course- you could hear how loud everything was before Emily even cut the engine. She turned to you- bleached tresses catching what little light there was. “Are you nervous?” She asked, voice giddy with excitement.

“Y-yeah,” You confessed, chuckling nervously. “I don’t think I’ve been to a party since I was a kid,” you muse. You’re both quiet, for a moment. “Thank you, by the way. Not just for the party invite, but uh- the everything. It’s been nice.” Your voice is soft. Looking back, the earnestness you’d shown her makes you nauseous. She had smiled at you.

“Aw, don’t get sappy on me now. You’re my lucky charm! I couldn’t get into that concert without you!”

Your memories after that were fuzzy. You remembered the crisp night air as you crossed the lawn with Emily. You remembered the way the warmth and light of the house and enveloped you when you stepped inside. You remembered everybody staring as soon as you walked in, and the pleasant burn of whatever alcohol you had been offered- you remembered idle chatter but nothing specific-

And you remembered the costume contest Emily had urged you to participate in. You tried to say you weren’t exactly in costume, just ambiguously goth. Lots of other weak arguments too, but she insisted. You remembered that. How insistent she was. How she said this was your chance to leave your little shell and open up. That everyone there would love you. Their makeshift stage sat beneath an indoor balcony, and you’d thought it was just so party-goers on the second floor could see. A wooden table with a number of goofy props had been set off to the side. You had stood there, before a sea of drunk faces, and in the blink of an eye-

Cold

Wet

Sticky

A sharp, quick strike to the top of your head.

And then you woke up gasping, sobbing, a splitting pain in your skull and oh god, oh god oh god- Blood. So much of it. Covering you, covering the floor, and a strangled, warbling shriek clawed its way up and out of your throat- was it yours?! Was all of this- all of it yours?! 

You’re- you’re dying.

Overlapping voices, Emily- “B-but it’s a joke! It w-was just a joke, wait-!”

Everything’s blurry, but there’s so much violent, viscous red, you’re dying.

You sob, trying to lurch to your feet, but someone stops you- 

It’s loud. It’s so fucking loud and it hurts. Everything is blurry and bright and the screaming- you can’t process any of it- two figures in blue with tophats sit in front of you, saying something, but you don’t understand. They reach for you- both at once, and you scramble backwards into someone else- hands on your shoulders, trying to gently push you down. 

Everything from then on was a whirl of pain and color and sound- no Emily. No… anybody that you could recognize. You’re lifted by the blue figures- carried through a parting crowd, into the cold sting of the night air, and into the wrong car.

“No, no,” You tried to say- this wasn’t your ride, this isn’t how you got here, but your voice didn’t feel right in your skull and it scared you, so you stopped. You end up in the backseat with the blue men, another figure driving. Was that the one you backed into?

“-you hear me?” The blue men say. It sounds like you’re underwater.

“H-huh wha- what?” You offer pathetically. 

“Okay, good, that’s an actual word out of them,” A woman’s voice says from the front.

“Pretty slurred though,” The blue men respond, holding up their overlapping gloved hands and pointing four fingers skyward. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He asks you.

“Y-you’ve both guh-got four,” you say, leaning back with a whimper. Speaking hurts your head. You hear the men swear.

“Okay. A lot less good,” the woman upfront says. “Keep them awake, Sabo.”

“Yes, I know the drill,” the brothers(?) say, before turning back to you.

“You twins?” You whisper out, and get a light huff in response.

“You’re in shock,” they tell you gently. “It’s going to be alright, though. Can you tell me your name and birthday?”

You squint, stumbling through the answers to various questions. You’re slow- each word reverberating through your skull, rattling your teeth and adding to the pressure behind your eyes. But it does keep you awake until they get you to the hospital.

-

You woke up in a dimmed hospital room, all dull grays and white. Two people in well-made (but now bloodied) steampunk costumes sitting in chairs at your bedside. A blonde man with a blue vest and black coat, leaning on the shoulder of a smaller, ginger woman in pink, who’s reading a book. You can’t make out the title, your vision is still a bit blurry.

“Hello..?” You croak out, earning a jump from the woman before you. You squint. You think her eyes might be green.

“Oh good, you’re awake! How do you feel?” She asks softly.

“Um, bad,” you rasp. God, you feel awful. Worse than any hangover you’d ever had. “Who are you..? What… happened?” You ask, voice trailing into a scratchy whisper.

You hear her sigh softly. You wish you could tell what kind of face she was making. “My name’s Koala. My partner Sabo and I brought you here after an… accident.” She pauses, for something- you aren’t sure what. A dull pulse throbs in your head. “Do you… remember anything?”

You squint. “Um… Emily was t-taking me to a… party. I was at a party.” God, your head hurts. Just thinking about the loud music and overlapping voices makes you nauseous, and you groan. “Koala… Sabo… heard those, somewhere…” Maybe you’d met- maybe they just said their names while you were out of it. And it’s hard to tell if someone’s familiar when they just look like fuzzy shapes to you.

“It’s okay, take your time. You’ve… had a rough night. Oh- I should probably call the nurse, hold on.” You see her reach for something, and hear the soft click of a button. Then she turns to her side, shaking the figure leaning on her shoulder. “Sabo- Sabo, get up idiot, they’re awake,” she hisses, the warmth she addressed you with now replaced with irritation. The man, Sabo, sighs, sitting up with a groan. He stretches, earning a flinch from you when his back cracks loudly.

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” a gentle, sleepy voice intones, and even with the blur in your vision you can see his grin. “How are you feeling?”

“... Bad.” You repeat, earning a snort from Koala. “Weren’t there three people with me..?”

“Ah… no, you are… quite concussed, my friend.”

“Oh…” you pause, trying to focus on the fuzzy folk before you, but it’s useless. “I’ve… heard of you before, I think…”

A soft chuckle bubbles out of the man’s chest. “We’ve spoken a few times. I’m a grad student instructor, and Koala’s my partner. Does that ring a bell..?” The concerned lilt in his voice is soothing.

“I… think so…”

“Well, no need to worry about it,” Koala pipes up, crossing her arms. “You’ve got plenty of time to get your bearings.”

Shortly after that, a nurse arrived, and you went through a standard physical exam. Your reflexes were a bit slow and your vision wasn’t great, but you were far more coherent. You were exhausted though, arms trembling after just drinking a little bit of water.

The two had to gently break the news that you had been a setup, deliberately lured to that party so you could be pranked Carrie style with a bucket of fake blood. Except the bucket itself was rather heavy, striking you on the head and making you fall just right, resulting in you bashing your head once more against that stupid prop table. The woman, Koala, told you that you’d been unconscious for around ten seconds, give or take. They had rushed to your side, the room silent, until you woke up and screamed.

It was bad. Sabo and Koala both worked to get your jewelry off you, since you’d likely need an x-ray- but the biggest issue was that the fake blood dumped on you made it hard to tell where the real injury was, and how much real blood you were losing. The workers had to clean you up and your entire outfit was ruined. Your family was called, but they lived out of state and couldn’t make it to you. The hospital kept you for a few more hours, running tests and making sure there were no further complications- your benevolent saviors remaining with you the whole time. That part gave you pause. You didn’t think strangers were even allowed to do that, but you didn’t mention it. You felt wrong questioning these people.

The nurse was a kind but stern woman, making sure to speak very clearly for you. “Alright, sweetheart, here’s how this is gonna work. You clearly can’t drive, but luckily your friends here can. Once you’re home, you need to be supervised for at least three days. We’re giving you the good stuff, for pain- take one every 4-6 hours, as needed.”

“O-oh, that’s okay,” you stammer. Supervision? You live alone in a single-person dorm room. “I c-can… manage on my own, none of that is hard,” you try to assure her, despite how wrong it still felt just to talk. Your mouth doesn’t feel like it was yours, the delay between thought, intention, and execution of speech unsettling. The nurse clearly isn’t impressed, either.

“No. This is a head wound. If you have nobody to look after you, we will not discharge you.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s where we come in. We’re already driving you home, aren’t we?” Sabo gently pipes up.

And that’s how you find yourself pushed out to the car in a wheelchair. A little excessive, you think, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at the idea of just how much these strangers- well, acquaintances, you suppose- are doing for you. When Sabo opened the door for you, you winced, seeing the dark, sticky mess you had left in his backseat. “I’m sorry about b-bleeding all over your car,” you mumble, but he waves you off. 

“Please, don’t worry yourself over something like that,” he chides. “Most of that isn't even real, anyway. I can get it cleaned, it’s alright. Let’s get you home, okay?” He says, ushering you into the clean side of the backseat. 

-

The three of you stand in front of the door to your tiny dorm room, you leaning heavily on Sabo while you struggle with your keys. He has an arm around your waist to steady you, but you still feel like you’re gonna tip over. At least it’s too early for any other students to see you- most of them are still probably sleeping off whatever parties they went through. The splitting ache in your skull made you wish the same. After a good twenty seconds of struggling with the rusted lock of your front door, Koala sighs, taking the keys from you and doing it herself in one smooth motion. You can’t help but deflate a little bit. You’re ushered inside the little space, a twin sized bed across from a couch and a single window between them. You’ve got a crappy old wardrobe that houses the clothes you wear most often, while the rest is kept in a bin that normally lay beneath your bed- but with a shaky sigh, you take in the sight of it pulled out into the open from when you had been excitedly planning your outfit last night. Dark, cobwebby drapings of tattered cloth and worn leather, both faux and authentic, haphazardly scattered about.

You set down the plastic bag your soaked clothes had been placed in, sinking to your knees with the intention of packing things up, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Just leave it for now,” says Sabo, voice soft as ever. “We can get that for you later. Why don't you just lie down, hmm?” Warm gloved hands guide you to your bed, and you sigh as you sink into the comforter.

Your two guests look around your room, and you suddenly flush. Your walls are littered with flyers, artwork, band and movie posters, the latter of which are mostly pulpy horror flicks. You haven't had anyone in here in ages except-

Emily.

Your stomach lurches. You'd somehow managed not to think about her.

Koala turns to you, about to say something, but stops when she sees the tears welling up in your eyes. You don’t want to break down in front of these people. You curl in on yourself, wiping your tears frantically, willing yourself not to start bawling. Sabo and Koala are muttering something to each other, but you can’t make it out. “Sorry…” You mutter, voice thick and wobbly. “You two have, um- thank you. I’m sorry about all this. Probably not how you wanted to spend your Halloween.”

“Oh none of that now,” chides Sabo, who has made himself at home on your couch. “It certainly wasn’t part of our plan- Ow!” He winces when Koala elbows him in the ribs. “As I was saying, some things are a bit more important than crashing a party. And I’m sure you didn’t plan on having your head cracked open, so don’t talk like it’s your fault.” 

“Th… thank you. Really. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” They’re so… nice to you. It feels different from Emily, in a way you can’t quite articulate. Something about them just makes you feel relaxed and at ease… part of that could also be the exhaustion seeping into your bones, like water being soaked up by a thick blanket of cotton. “But what happens now..? Are you really gonna… babysit me for three days? Don’t you two have things to do? Besides, this place is tiny.”

You feel a dip in the mattress as Koala comes to sit by you, and it makes your head spin for a second. “We definitely have a few calls to make,” she sighs. “But your couch is perfectly fine- and Sabo can take the floor, because he’s such a gentleman, isn’t he?” The sly lilt has you giggling, and Sabo just huffs, taking the playful jab in stride.

“Naturally,” he tells her, and you think he might have winked.

You yawn, eyelids fluttering. “That’s… still not great. Seriously, th-this place… kind of sucks. I don’t even have a kitchen in here…”

That seems to give them pause. Koala hums. “Well… Sabo’s place has a couple guest rooms, but sometimes his brothers stay there too…”

“Wait, n-no, I c-can’t just um, intrude like that-!”

Your guests share a look. You wish you could tell what kind. “Well, we’re not leaving you here alone. It’s just not an option.” Koala asserts. You open your mouth to protest, but Sabo beats you to it.

“Look, I know we aren’t close, and this is all… very sudden. You don’t know us very well, it’s weird to stay at a stranger’s house. But…” He rubs the back of his neck. “There’s a good chance you could hurt yourself. And I wouldn’t be a very good GSI if you missed Professor Silver’s lecture next week because I left you alone.” You snort, then wince at the bolt of pain that shoots through your muddled head. “A lot has happened to you in the past twelve hours. This isn’t ideal for anyone, believe me- but we’re worried about you.”

You should have had more questions, honestly- but oversights abound when one has a traumatic brain injury. Sabo steps out to make a call, and Koala helps you pack an overnight bag. A couple changes of casual, comfortable clothes- mostly black, of course. And you finally change out of the off-white spares provided by the hospital, from loose thin overshirt and pants to some pajamas with a sweater thrown over it. Nothing particularly interesting but unfortunately, you had more pressing concerns. Sabo comes back in shortly after, nodding to his partner.

This time, instead of helping you hobble your way back down to the parking lot, Sabo just picks you up. You sputter, but he just hushes you, and Koala locks the door behind you all with your black coffin-shaped backpack slung over her shoulder.

That thing rules, you think to yourself, allowing your body to relax against Sabo. Your cheek squishes against his chest, and you catch a faint scent- the sweet, chemical tang of the fake slop that was dumped on you. Despite your discomfort, you quickly find it hard to keep yourself awake. You’re in the hallway- early morning sunlight casting a golden glow through the old dorm building. Your eyes flutter shut- then back open- you’re in the parking lot, and Koala is shuffling around in the backseat. When she moves away, you see that an old, ratty, dark brown blanket has been draped over the recently stained polyester. You hum as Sabo buckles you in, then gently lays you down, adjusting the seatbelt so it doesn’t bite into you uncomfortably.

“Poor thing,” you hear Koala coo. “So, you’re sure it was him? And what did everyone say about rescheduling..?” She continues as you drift off.

-

You wake up with a groan, in an unfamiliar room. The walls are a pleasant tawny color, with one cream accent wall. You’ve been tucked in underneath a comforter topped with a quilt- the scattered geometric pattern comprised of black, white, and shades of gray. It brings a smile to your face, that they went through the trouble of finding you a quilt that matched your aesthetic. You sit up slowly, groaning at the throbbing ache in your head. You blink, smacking your lips, trying to get rid of the dry, scratchy feeling in your throat. Turning to the right, there’s a bedside table- a glass of water and one of your pills left out for you, along with a small note. They’ve also been kind enough to plug your phone in for you. Extending a trembling hand, you pick up the little scrap of paper and squint at the clean, rounded handwriting.

Sabo will be back later, he’s running some errands. If you wake up before I come check on you, please take the pill I left out. I’m in the living room, which is down the hall to your right if you need anything. - Koala

You sniff, placing the note down and doing as instructed. You wince at the feeling of the sizable white pill catching on the inside of your throat on the way down, even with the water. Rubbing your throat you reach for your phone without a thought, and-

The first thing you do is wince when the light of the screen meets your eyes. When the blurriness subsides a little, you blink away the not-quite-tears of eyestrain to find 24 missed calls, and 99+ messages, the unlock screen preview shows you. You grimace, turning your attention to the time. A little over half past one, November 1st. You take a deep breath. You don’t want to think about all this. At least not alone.

You stumble to your feet to go find Koala like the note said, but you don’t really need to. She hears your door open, and comes to fetch you herself and guide you to the leather sofa. You sit sideways, with your feet up on the cushions. You’re trying to take in your surroundings when a folded knit blanket is plopped onto your lap, and she sits down with you with her knees up to her chest. You take a moment to relax, kneading the soft, blue fibers in your tired hands. “... Hi,” you rasp, then clear your throat. “Uh… this is a nice place. Thanks for letting me stay…”

“Mmm. Don’t mention it. Wasn’t really up to you, anyway.” The woman tilts her head slightly, regarding you. “... Are you feeling any better? I’m guessing you read the note?”

“Yeah, I did. And I’m mostly just… tired and sore, now. I was worried I’d be nauseous, but I’m not, so… that’s nice.”

“That is good,” she agrees, “We were a little worried you’d have trouble eating.”

“Mmmhmm.” You’re both quiet for a moment. Koala has changed into something more casual as well- a sky blue sweater that looks too big on her and loose reddish brown pants. You unfold the blanket she gave you, sighing. “Um… so, should I inform the school somehow-”

“Sabo is speaking to the faculty on your behalf, so don’t worry about that.” She has a… blunt way of speaking that sometimes takes you off guard, but you’re getting used to it quickly. Overall she’s nice. “That girl-” she spits, and you can make out a grimace- “Emily, she blew up Sabo’s school email when you didn’t answer her.”

“Oh.” You breathe. “What… did she say..?”

You hear Koala inhale, hear her start to say something, but she looks at you and pauses for a moment. Then she sighs and shakes her head, shoulders slumping. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about her.” Your brows furrow a little bit. You think that if it’s about you, you should get to know, but whatever.

“... Anything she’s got to say is probably already on my phone, anyway,” you groan, pressing your palms against your eyes. 

“I thought as much,” she mumbles bitterly. “Well, listen- I’m sure your family should hear from you directly at some point today. Do you feel up to that?”

“... I don’t know.”

“Fair enough. The hospital was sure to mention that you’re stable when they contacted your parents, so at least they aren’t completely in the dark.” There’s another silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Or maybe your head is still too muddled to feel awkward. You find yourself wishing you’d had a chance to meet under better circumstances, though, rather than ending up as a burden to these two. “Well…” she starts, “do you like tea? I know Sabo usually keeps a couple different kinds in the house.”

You nod, a soft smile quirking the corners of your mouth upwards. “Thank you, that sounds lovely,” you say, absentmindedly reaching up to trace the stitches in your head, only for Koala to lurch forward to slap your hand away.

“Don’t touch it, idiot! It’ll get worse!” She scolds you, but it doesn’t feel mean-spirited. You gingerly lower your hand and sit on it, earning a snort from her. “If that’s what it takes,” she quips, a smile in her voice. She stands, stretches, and settles with her hands on her hips. “Can I trust you not to start prying your stitches out if I leave to go put some water on?”

“Probably not.” That gets another little huff from her.

“Might have to tie your hands, then,” she muses. “Alright, listen. I’m going to go make tea. Then I’m gonna help you clean up a bit more- get the excess gunk off your face. We’ll see how you’re feeling after that. If you aren’t too out of it, I’ll help you make that phone call.”

You end up making that call after the tea is finished, opting not to keep anyone waiting. Koala has it on speaker phone, and is able to elaborate where you can’t. You don’t tell your family about… the prank, yet. You can feel Koala’s gaze on you, but she follows your lead, being vague on the details and focusing on your condition. You tell your mother there was an accident at a party, and you’re with a friend right now. 

“Oh, that Emily girl, right?” Your mom asks.

You’re glad you can’t audibly wince, but you can’t really fault her for asking. “No, i-it’s someone else.”

“You’ve made other friends? Oh that’s wonderful, I’m so glad you’re finally coming out of your shell!” You lock up, eye twitching. This is a comment you do fault her for. Really? She’s on about this now? The rest of the conversation is a blur- you sit, curled up on the couch and sipping your tea while Koala takes over for you. She talks a little about herself and Sabo, and a little about you, too- mentioning some student art exhibit you’d submitted a piece to at the beginning of your time on campus, back when you were still trying to be sociable. You find heat rising to your cheeks. She was there? She remembered it? You feel guilty for not recognizing her sooner. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Sabo gets home, setting down some brown paper grocery bags and walking over to quietly press a kiss to Koala’s temple. The conversation ends shortly after Sabo introduces himself, winning them over just as easily as Koala had. They exchange contact info with your parents, assuring them that they would be updated. It leaves you feeling a bit… infantilized, truthfully, but everyone involved means well.

When all that is said and done, Sabo addresses you personally. “Glad to see you awake and alert. I’ve got everything for a light soup. Does that sound good?”

You nod. “Yes, thank you. L-let me know if I can help p-pay for anythi-” you’re interrupted by light, airy laughter.

“Nonsense, I’m used to paying for whatever crazy shenanigans my brothers get into, food for a couple days is nothing. And I’m willing to bet their appetites are way bigger than yours, anyway.”

Koala saunters over, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You talk like you aren’t just as bad as those two,” she says, jabbing a finger into his chest and turning her head to you. “Don’t let the clean student-faculty sweetheart image fool you, he gets into all sorts of shit,” she huffs, earning a laugh from her partner. You’re sure the smile on your face is rather dopey, but these two are cute together.

“Seeing as he’s got a concussed stranger sleeping over, yeah I’d say that tracks,” you tell her, earning a pout from the man.

“Aw, we’re not strangers anymore, are we?” Koala asks with a faux tearfulness.

“I… guess not…” 

“Good,” she says, detangling herself from Sabo and pressing a kiss to his jaw before turning back to you. “Now lay back- I’m gonna clean the rest of that shit off your face now.”

“H-huh?” You sputter. She’d already mentioned doing this, but the firmness of her statement takes you off-guard. Sabo just laughs. 

“Koala is very strong-willed. You won’t be winning any arguments with her, just give in now,” he says sympathetically.

There’s a sharp exhale from the woman. “I wouldn’t have to be strong-willed if you'd just listen to me the first time,” she quips, already applying drops of liquid makeup remover to a cotton ball. When had she even gotten those out?

You sit as still as possible for Koala, leaning back against the pillows piled behind you as your new friend slides onto the couch. She slots herself between your knees and looms over you, her brows furrowed as she begins to carefully, gently dab away the remnants of faux, syrupy blood still clinging to your hairline, behind your ears, and other creases in your face. Most of your makeup and the blood had been washed off in the hospital, but the priority was of course your injury. The details were left for later. She knows what she’s doing, featherlight touches soothing your frazzled mind. It just feels right- your eyes flutter shut as she reaches for your face, cool dampness of the cotton balls and makeup wipes running over your eyelids, down the sides of your nose… heart fluttering at the chuckle Koala lets out when the sharp scent of the cleaning solution makes your face scrunch up. You smile softly when you open your eyes again, earning a pause from her. She tilts her head quizzically, short ginger hair framing her round eyes…

Your vision is a little clearer now. You can see a lot better than you could when you were still in the hospital, barely coherent with a head full of static. “I was right,” you giggle, dazed voice weighed by fatigue, but the fear, anxiety, sadness- the hurt-  is all finally gone. “Your eyes are green. You’re really pretty, Koala.” She jolts, face going red, turning to glare at Sabo when he laughs.

“You’re still out of it,” she hushes, but you don’t miss the shaky smile poorly hidden behind her hand.

-

It’s a pleasant night. Sabo starts on the food shortly after Koala finishes, and you nap on the couch as the pleasant smell of chicken and rice soup fills the house. It’s an open kitchen, so most of what Sabo does is visible the few times you drift back into consciousness. The final time you wake up, it’s to Sabo gently shaking your shoulder with a bowl of soup ready for you, along with another one of your pills. The three of you eat together in the living room, small talk petering off as it becomes clear just how tired you are. But it’s pleasant- warmth filling you as you slowly eat, eyelids growing heavier and heavier, until you find everything but the flavor of light soup and dull pulse in your skull fading away.

You’d be perfectly content to just pass out here on the couch, but Koala is insistent you get to bed properly. You’re in the bathroom, struggling to brush your teeth- the harsh scratching sound of a toothbrush resonating through your entire skull with a dizzying buzz. You aren’t looking forward to doing this again… maybe you could get away with just using mouthwash for a couple days..? Ugh, probably not… You’re leaning in close to the mirror, examining the sutures on your head. When you had struck the table, it had pulled your skin back, tearing the wound open wider. Part of it pokes down through your hairline, about two inches visibly protruding past your temple, earning a frown from you. You gingerly run your fingers over the rough stitching-

“Please don’t do that.” Despite the softness of Sabo’s voice, his sudden appearance makes you jump. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You sound a little wobbly, but that’s mostly because you’re tired. 

He pushes off from where he’s resting against the doorframe, stepping into the room to assess his own reflection beside you. “It will likely scar,” he says after a moment. You look at Sabo- actual Sabo, instead of his reflection- and he turns to look at you as well. The dramatic sunburst of scarring around his eye makes yours look like nothing in comparison- you feel a little self-conscious about silently fussing over yours with him right there. “But it could be worse. Easier to cover with certain hairstyles, or makeup, should you so choose.” You manage to suppress your wince. You don’t actually know how Sabo feels about his scars- you think they’re cool, but he might not. But you also don’t want to assume he’s hinting at any of his own insecurities and say something weird.

“More worried about lingering brain damage, honestly,” you eventually settle on, turning back to the mirror. “Might look kinda cool, once it heals up a bit… but it came from something really stupid.”

“You could just make something up, like I do,” he offers, earning a shaky smile from you.

“Thanks, Sabo, but I’m pretty sure everyone’s gossiping about it. By the time I get back on campus, everyone will already know…”

“Well…” he starts, your gaze following his hand as it moves up to rub your shoulder. “Good thing we won’t be here forever, hmm..?” He purrs quietly. You look to him, and any retort you had dies on your tongue. There’s an intense look in his wide eyes, paired with a small polite smile that doesn't quite match up.

“H-Huh?” You’re quiet, confused.

He takes in your response, blinking and pulling his hand away from you to rub the back of his neck. “I just mean we won’t be students here, forever… didn’t mean to sound alarming. Plenty of people out in the world you could tell a fun little lie to,” he clarifies, and you relax again. “Though you are right, it’s an oversight on my part not to consider how much people talk.”

The tension deflates immediately, and you feel a little bad. Your mind is just playing tricks on you- it’s been a rough 24 hours, after all. “Oh, haha, i-it’s fine… sorry for being jumpy. B-besides, I’m used to dumb gossip already, I-I should probably just…” You falter. His eyes aren’t as intense, but you feel like his focus is. He’s just trying to be a good listener, you tell yourself. You’re the one making things weird. You clear your throat, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest. “Sorry. I don’t know w-why I’m so worried, it’s all the same shit,” you try to joke. Your attempt at a chuckle is thin and reedy. The face of the man before you softens- and you realize you don’t like it. You don’t like the disdain, the laughter, the frankly juvenile way your peers treat you, but you don’t like this, either. The pitying look, like you’re a stray puppy left out in the rain. With a black, spiked collar, maybe. What’s wrong with you? Why are you so upset? Seconds after you notice the first small, watery hints of tears welling up in your eyes, you just break down.

Sabo moves swiftly, seemingly on autopilot, wrapping you up in a hug, warm hand pressing your head against his chest. It’s nice. It feels so, so nice- he’s steady and reliable, firm chest and arms keeping you snug and secure against him and you can’t help but think have I ever been held like this before? You’re embarrassed- you don’t want to behave like this, it feels so childish. But your body shudders with a cracked sob despite yourself, hands tightly balling themselves up in his shirt as he slowly sinks the both of you to the floor. “Sorry, m’sorry,” you whine into his chest. Why? Why now? The look he gave you didn’t rattle you that hard, did it? God, the pressure behind your eyes, that constricting tightness in your throat- it all makes the ache in your head bloom all the worse. He rubs your back, settling you in his lap. “I don’t know why- I d-don’t get it,” you gasp, clinging to him. The firm, hurried sound of approaching footsteps meet your ears, stopping at the doorway.

“It’s okay. Shhh, it’s alright, you don’t have to,” coos Sabo, and you feel him turning to look at Koala, no doubt coming to check on the racket you were making. “I’m sure it’s a little bit of everything. It was bound to happen at some point. You’ve been through a lot, just let it out, alright? It’s okay.” Koala approaches, shuffling past Sabo in the narrow space so she can sit adjacent to two of you.

“We expected something like this, so don’t worry. I’m glad you aren’t bottling things up,” she says, leaning forward to wrap her arms around you both. They’re both so warm. Leaning against Sabo’s chest, Koala’s head comes to rest on your shoulder as Sabo readjusts, momentarily removing an arm to embrace his partner in return. A little bit awkward, all three of you piled onto the floor like that, but it still just feels so nice. Pleasant. You don’t know why these two have your back, but you have absolutely no doubts that they do. “Let's get you to the bedroom, alright? Much more comfortable there than a bathroom floor.” That comment is probably as much for Sabo as it is for you. You nod against his chest, and he wastes no time in sliding an arm under your knees and securing your back with the other. You sniffle and whine pathetically as he walks you back to the guest room, setting you on the bed, sitting up. You blink, hiccuping as your host pulls the covers over you. Koala approaches with a glass of water- when did she get that? And two pills. “The second is just some melatonin,” she soothes, handing the tiny puck of medicine alongside your prescribed painkiller. “You’ve been falling asleep well enough, but we thought… Well, just in case.” When had they talked about that? When you were napping? You didn’t care very much at the moment.

“Th-thank you,” you choke out, reaching your shaking hands out for the water and the medicine. You would very much like to leave the waking world- everything is suddenly so overwhelming for no reason at all. “I’m so s-sorry for the trouble.” You pop the pills into your mouth, and when you go to drink, Koala’s hands clasp themselves over yours, assisting you in raising the glass to your mouth. The cool liquid soothes your throat, and your cries taper off into sniffles.

You take a shaky breath. Both of them are looking at you, but you don’t want to meet their eyes. “It’s okay. You’re tired and hurt, it’s to be expected.” Sabo comforts you, yet again. Your stomach twists. They’re adamant that everything is okay, that you aren’t imposing, but how couldn’t you be? If everything Emily supposedly felt for you was fake, who knows what these people could be up to? You set the glass down, Koala’s hands sliding away as you brace it between your thighs. You briefly notice a roughness to her palms- they’re callused.

… You’re tired.

“Thank you,” you rasp, looking back up to your hosts. They both nod.

“Is there anything you need?” Koala asks, voice soft. None of the edge it normally carries.

“I think… I-I just want to sleep.”

“Of course,” she says, but doesn’t move. She… hovers for a moment, looking you over before standing and turning to Sabo. You can’t see her face, but there’s something unreadable in the smile Sabo gives her.

You thank them again. They bid you goodnight, and you return it.

Your consciousness fades almost as quickly as their footsteps.

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Happy one year of being here! I love all your works

I was wondering if you could do a suggestive best friends to lovers with Eddie Munson? No other suggestions, i'm sure whatever you do will be absolutely amazing!

- @eddiesprincess86

Hi!! You're too kind, thank you so much <3 I hope you like it! @eddiesprincess86

--

"French kissing cannot be that good," you mused out loud, your eyes reading through a romance book a friend had recommended. Eddie sat on the couch, recliner kicked out, while your head rested on his stomach. Your legs stretched out across the couch as his laughter rumbled beneath you.

"You can't be serious." Disbelief bubbled up between Eddie's words, interrupted by more laughter. But you were serious. The girl in this book seemed to think kissing with tongue was life-changing, world-shattering.

You shook your head, a small smile growing. "This is just a bit cheesy, that's all. No one like it this much."

"I do," Eddie said, and you twisted your neck to glance at him. He merely shrugged at it were obvious. "Haven't you had any good tongue in your mouth?"

"Ugh. Why would you put it that way?" You turned back away, trying to bury your face in the book. "And no. I haven't had been kissed in a way that 'invaded my mouth, my senses, my soul until I could only feel him," you read from the page.

It seemed nice in theory, but it didn't sound believable.

Eddie's arm nudged your shoulder. "C'mon, never? I don't believe that, sweetheart."

A flicker of heat blossomed to your cheeks. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything — shouldn't have accidentally come clean about this. Still, he waited for your answer, so you muttered out a quiet, "No."

You felt the breath Eddie blew out, felt the weight of it hit you. If you reread this page a twentieth time, maybe it'd swallow you whole. That sounded nice.

"Would you like to? Be kissed like that, I mean." His voice had dropped a bit lower, and you could feel the rumble of it from where you laid on him. The heat coming from his body was enough to send you on edge, but then he brushed a finger along your arm. "We don't have to 'f course. Just think you deserve to."

Your heart thrummed louder in your chest, sure that Eddie could hear it. The barely-there touch of him on your skin clouded your mind, making it too hard to think about kissing your best friend — a scenario that'd run through your head a thousand times before.

"Okay," you whispered. Your fingers gripped tight to the book, but they let go in an instant when Eddie plucked it from you. He set it down carefully somewhere before holding your hand.

"You gotta come over here, sweetheart," he breathed out. Inch by inch, you turned around until you sat with your knees under you facing him. He let out a soft laugh. "Closer than that if you want the full experience."

And you did. So you let him rest his hands on your hips and guide you to sit on his lap, your legs straddling his. If your skin wasn't on fire before, it was now.

"This okay?" he asked, a kindness in his words.

"Yeah, Eddie."

Sat so close to him, you memorized the curls of his hair, studied the silver rings on his fingers. Anything to keep you from having to look at his face.

But he'd have none of it, his hand coming to softly hold your chin. He brought it up until your gaze met his. The warmth buzzing in his dark eyes made you relax just a little, your muscles unraveling themselves. This was Eddie, your Eddie. The one that you had sleepovers with, stole the food from his fridge, and braided his hair on the weekends.

"You ready?"

You watched the way his mouth formed the words, staring at him as you hadn't allowed yourself to before. He brought a hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb back and forth across your skin. Would this make things weird and ruin your friendship forever?

But as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, you found that you couldn't give a shit about ruining your friendship.

"Please."

A smile grew on his face while his gaze roamed across you. A broken breath escaped you as Eddie leaned in, his hands cradling your jaw.

Eyes slipping shut, you met him halfway. His lips barely touched yours, just a brush of contact to give you time to pull away. And when you didn't, he surged forward like a starving man.

His mouth moved against yours, stealing the air from your lungs. Your fingers gripped his shoulders to keep from collapsing into him. Some part of you tried asking whether this compared to the book, but as Eddie's tongue brushed along your lip, the thought completely slipped out of your head.

You opened your mouth for him, nearly whining as he ran his tongue against yours. At some point, your hands had tangled themselves into his hair. He pulled you so close, the feeling of his body against yours all encompassing.

Your mind had been elsewhere, somewhere that had to be close to heaven, until Eddie finally pulled away. He rested his head back against the couch with a permanent smile.

Your quickened breaths mixed together in the space between the two of you. You pressed your forehead against his, blinking your eyes open. His hands dropped to the outside of your thighs, rubbing circles against your skin.

"Okay," you whispered with a hint of a smile, "Maybe the book had a point."

Eddie smirked at you. "Maybe?"

You lightly tugged on his hair, earning you a soft pinch on your leg. You would've collapsed into laughter had you not been fixed in place by the soft look in his eyes. It made you hope, gave you enough courage to say something.

"So... would staying as friends be weird after this?" you asked, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, preparing yourself for his answer.

"Probably," Eddie said, pausing for a moment. "Let's not stay as friends then. Problem solved."

Was it that easy? Everything had always been easy with Eddie, and this would be no different. You couldn't stop the grin from growing across your face at the thought. Staring at him, you whispered an echo of his words, "Problem solved."

And French kissing certainly wasn't the last thing Eddie taught you.

[northern-passage]

Help I’m desperate for Lea and I apologize for the link spam this morning AAAAAAA. I’m like foaming at the mouth I love Lea so much and the way they interact with the hunter (playing a stoic, altruistic, shy, conflict-avoidant, and secretly soft hunter) makes me scream

I um… would love to know Lea’s POV or thoughts about the Duncan conflict if the hunter let him rip off their hood and hesitates before bowing to Duncan to try and keep Lea safe behind them??

Sorry if that’s a lot to ask and obviously no pressure I just,,, thought I’d peek in and get it off my chest to send in an ask

for you, and the dozens of other people that have asked me for this scene from Lea's pov over the years~

A hush falls over the parlor, a loud ringing in Lea's ears at the sudden silence.

An older man stands, wearing posh, silver armor, emblazoned with the king's swooping hawk, layered over a dark red tunic and embellished with silver studs and gold feathers - there is only one person this man can be. He has a group of soldiers with him, wearing the same silver and red, and those ugly molded masks.

"Lord Duncan," Merry says, her hands on her hips as she takes a few steps forward, her voice the only sound to break the silence.

Lea quickly stands from the table, and the hunter does the same, glancing back at Lea for a moment before eyeing the creeping soldiers as they move through the tables and across the parlor.

"What a wonderful surprise to have you here, Duncan-" Merry starts, but she's cut off by a sharp look.

"Lord Duncan," he says, his voice hard.

Merry's face twitches.

Duncan turns to Lea and the hunter expectantly then.

Lea does their best to keep their face wholly neutral, their jaw set as they stare right back at Duncan. The hunter does much of the same, both standing rigid in front of the warden as he glances between them. His hand is on his sword, and Lea doesn't miss the way his fingers flex around the hilt, the slight curling of his lip as he stares on in distaste.

Lea knows he expects a bow, but that simply isn't how things are done here in the north. And Lea is happy to remind Duncan of that fact, especially after what they've heard about the man today.

Neither Lea nor the hunter move.

"Is there a reason you've brought your little dogs into my establishment, Warden?" Merry cuts in then.

"I heard we had visitors. Very rude of you to keep them from me," Lord Duncan says slowly, turning away from Lea to slowly appraise their partner. "And a hunter, no less."

Lord Duncan suddenly steps towards them, reaching for their hood, and Lea bites hard on the inside of their cheek, resisting the urge to grab his wrist and shove him back.

The hunter quickly steps away, wordlessly dodging his outstretched hand, and Lea can just see the flash of their eyes beneath their hood, glaring out of the shadows at Duncan.

He clicks his tongue, disappointed as he pulls his hand back.

"No need to be shy," he muses.

Lea feels their expression flicker, but thankfully Duncan is too focused on the hunter to notice. Lea runs a hand over their hair, clearing their throat and stepping between them, forcing Duncan's attention as well as forcing him back a few feet.

"Introductions?" Lea prompts, tilting their head towards the warden.

"My name is Lea Chen. This is Hunter Karstark. We only just arrived early this morning, and unfortunately had a few things to handle in the city. A shame we haven't crossed paths earlier. I've heard many good things," Lea continues, forcing a warm smile for Lord Duncan.

There's a bitter taste in their mouth.

"The market here is impressive - the town seems to have completely recovered under your leadership," Lea adds, nodding at him. "It's admirable." Lea's voice is tight, but their mask doesn't slip, even as Duncan's demeanor shifts slightly, a slight upward curve of his lips.

He glances between Lea and the hunter, and then looks to Merry.

"How about a room, Captain? To talk to our guests, in private," he says, sticking his nose up at the rest of the parlor.

Lea shakes their head, glancing over at Merry. They don't want to be in a room alone with this man.

But Merry doesn't notice, just waving everyone over to the stairs. The clank of armor punctuates each step, and Lea glances over at the hunter, a shared unease rising between them. Lea looks back at the parlor one last time before climbing up the stairs, their hand instinctively going to their hip, though they're unarmed right now.

Probably for the best.

Merry leads the group across the mezzanine at the top of the stairs and down the hallway, towards a back room tucked along the far wall of the tavern. She raises her hand and wraps her knuckles once, twice, three times, and when no response comes she digs a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocks the door, throwing it open and stepping inside.

Lea lets the hunter step in first, giving them a brief reprieve from the soldiers right on their heels.

Lea follows after them and Merry, joining them on one side of the room, while Duncan and his soldiers line up on the other. Lea glares over at the soldiers and their silver masks, eyeing the swords strapped to their belts.

Lea doesn't like this, a slight tremble in their hands as their adrenaline spikes, the last soldier stepping in and shutting the door with a soft click.

Duncan lets everyone stand in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, and Lea can't help but notice how he relishes it, picking at some nonexistent dust on his armor while the hunter squirms beside them. Lea glances over at them, but they're hiding in their hood, unable to see them in their peripheral.

"You can leave us," Duncan says then, stepping aside so Merry can reach the door. She gives him a long, hard look.

"No. I think I'd rather stay," she says.

"I wasn't asking," Duncan snaps back, curling his lip.

Lea tenses, and Merry remains unmoving, her hands on her hips. The hunter sinks farther back in their hood.

Duncan sighs, glancing to one of his soldiers and waving his hand. They respond immediately, striding across the room and grabbing Merry by her elbow, hauling her forward.

Merry rips her arm from the soldier's grip, but they're undeterred, grabbing her again and twisting her arm this time, forcing her to turn around and face Duncan.

"Don't fucking touch me," Merry snarls, once again jerking free, "I'm fucking going!"

Lea takes a step forward, though they're not sure what it is exactly they're planning on doing, here. The soldiers don't notice, too occupied with glaring at the hunter or leering at Merry, but Duncan shoots them a curious look, raising an eyebrow, and Lea glares back at him, which just makes him smile.

Merry steps away from the soldier then, holding her hands up, and if looks could kill, Duncan would drop dead in that moment. Instead, his smile just widens, watching as Merry steps out the door, slamming it closed behind her.

An awkward silence passes before Duncan speaks again, nothing but the sound of grinding metal as the soldiers shift on their feet.

"So. Tell me, Handler Chen, what brings you and your hunter to my city?" he says, crossing his arms and eyeing them both across the room.

"We are just passing through, my lord," Lea says simply, and the title almost makes Lea gag.

"And your destination?" he prompts.

"The mountains, near Skala. We received some reports of a weak spot in the Vel. A wraith lurking around," Lea says. They do their best not to look to the hunter, coming up with the lie on the spot, but Lea knows they're smart enough to play along.

"Is that right?" Duncan muses, turning to the hunter then. "Do you have anything to say about that?" he asks.

Lea tenses again, Duncan's eyes flashing as he glances at them before looking back to the hunter expectantly.

The hunter just shrugs. Lea quickly wipes at their mouth in an attempt to hide their smirk.

Duncan lets out a long sigh.

"I see," he says.

"It's unfortunate Captain Harlowe got to you first," he starts. "You should be more careful about the company you keep." He adjusts the collar of his tunic. "A pirate? A criminal - is that the kind of people the Order is doing business with these days?"

Lea shifts, crossing their arms, but they keep their mouth shut, refusing to fall for the bait. They'll give Merry a piece of their mind later. Right now, Lea and the captain are a united front, and they're not going to turn on her for Duncan.

The hunter glances at them, but they remain silent, even as Duncan's glare hardens. He clicks his tongue again at the lack of response, irritation flashing across his face.

"So, from what I understand, you've had quite the day, today," he says then, holding his hands behind his back. "I heard you are quite the gossip. Asking a lot of questions, none of which I believe had anything to do with wraiths, or the Vel," he says, his gaze sliding from between Lea and the hunter, smiling coolly.

He moves farther into the room then, clearing his throat before he stops right in front of them. "Make no mistake. I allowed you to do the things you did. Don't let Captain Harlowe fool you. I am the final authority here, not her." His cold eyes flick between the two. "My hospitality is not unconditional."

"Of course, my lord," Lea says then, uncrossing their arms and giving Duncan a mirthless smile.

Lea isn't playing this game anymore. It's clear he knows that they're lying - there's no point in playing pretend. If Lea is going to be honest about anything, it will be about their feelings towards the man.

Feelings of disgust and contempt.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Duncan says then, though he turns to the hunter as he says it, making Lea's hands twitch at their sides.

"Now. Unfortunately, I need you out of my city. The two of you, the way you're running around, you're scaring my people," he says, still looking at the hunter.

Lea can't help themself, and they scoff, shaking their head at Duncan.

Duncan quickly turns to them, wrinkling his nose. "What's funny, Handler Chen?"

The soldiers shift around the room, their hands on their swords, and Lea's eyes flash, stepping close to the hunter as they leer at Duncan.

"These aren't your people, Lord Duncan," Lea says, a bite in their voice. "Don't insult us by pretending otherwise."

Duncan considers Lea for a painfully long moment. Then he takes a few steps back, closing rank with his soldiers. "I want you gone by noon tomorrow. You two, and the captain. If you are still in this city tomorrow afternoon, you will receive no mercy from me," he growls, his voice deadly. He moves towards the door now, but doesn't reach for the doorknob – instead he bangs his fist against the door twice. It opens, and two more soldiers step in.

At the sight of their flashy armor, the hunter shifts instinctively in front of Lea, their hand reaching for their hunter's knife.

Lea takes a deep breath, their own hands hovering in front of them, reaching half-way for the hunter's cloak - but they stop short, pulling their hand back and letting it curl into a fist at their side. Lea knows what comes next in situations like this, with men like Duncan. It's better not to show him what will hurt. Grabbing the hunter would give Duncan too many ideas.

"I wouldn't," Duncan is saying, smiling at the hunter. They reluctantly drop their hand, leaving their knife in its sheath.

"Take off your hood," he says suddenly, as the door closes again behind him.

Lea feels their lip curl, but the hunter obeys, reaching up and pulling their hood off.

There's no reason for this - except for Duncan to make himself feel good. In another place, in another time, Lea would run a man like Duncan through with their sword. That would make them feel good.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Duncan smiles, taking a step towards the hunter. He reaches down and pulls a knife from his belt, twirling it for a moment in his hand, watching the light glint off the blade. The hunter tenses in front of Lea, but holds their ground as he comes around the bed. The soldiers follow him, three of them coming towards them, the other two going towards Lea.

"This isn't necessary," Lea snarls, and they know immediately they slipped up with how pleased Duncan is with that outburst, giving him exactly what he wanted, his eyes widening as he glances between Lea and the hunter. One of the soldiers draws their sword, pressing the blade against Lea's back, and they scowl, swallowing loudly as the other soldiers converge around the hunter.

"Now," Lord Duncan says as he casually flips the knife in his hand, "Bow."

Lea doesn't move, but the hunter hesitates, glancing back at them, their gold eyes flashing.

They turn back to Duncan, and Lea can just watch as they slowly, slowly begin to bow.

Lea says their name, takes a step towards them, but the sword in their back bites through their shirt, and Lea stops. But when the soldiers hovering around the hunter shove them down to their knees, Lea tries again, only to be restrained, grimacing at that blade pricking the small of their back, a hot trickle of blood making them recoil.

They say their name again, struggling in vain.

The hunter doesn't look back at them this time, keeping their gaze on Lord Duncan.

"All the way down," he says.

"Stop it!" Lea shouts, but it falls on deaf ears as the soldiers manhandle the hunter, grabbing their neck and slamming their face against the floor. They pin their arms behind them, and one of the soldiers presses their knee against their back, trapping them beneath their weight.

Lea thrashes violently, jerking in the soldiers' grasp as that sword cuts at them again.

The hunter blinks up at them, their eyes wide, and Lea bares their teeth at Duncan as he moves in front of them.

Duncan tilts his head, glancing back at the hunter on the floor. He smirks at the twisted expression on Lea's face, and Lea only stops themself from lunging at him for the sake of the hunter.

They never should have let Duncan get them alone in this room. Trying to play nice, and for what? For the hunter to get beaten to the floor. For Duncan to flex his power.

Lea snarls at Lord Duncan as the soldiers force them to their knees. The movement jars the cut in their back, and they gasp, their body contorting in pain. Lea looks to the hunter then, shaking their head - just let them do this. It will be over soon.

It will be over soon, and I'm sorry.

The soldiers push Lea all the way to the floor, and they try to keep the hunter looking at them, saying their name, but they can see that the panic has seized them, and Lea continues to struggle as the hunter thrashes on the floor.

Duncan laughs at them.

"Look at me," Lea says, but the hunter isn't listening - the hunter isn't in the room with them anymore.

They convulse against the floor, and manage to throw off one of the soldiers and wrench themselves free, scrambling across the floor as they try to get away.

It's hard for Lea to watch.

Duncan puts an end to it, though, stepping forward and kicking them in the face.

Lea has to close their eyes then. Focus on their breathing.

Duncan whispers something to the hunter, his foot on their chest, and after a moment he steps back with a nod, the soldiers abruptly releasing Lea. They quickly force themself back onto their feet, breathing heavy, glaring at Duncan and imagining all the ways they would hurt him for this.

Duncan pauses, glancing back to the hunter on the floor, his soldiers once again surrounding him. "Noon tomorrow," is all he says, and then he steps out the door.

As soon as the door is closed, Lea rushes over to the hunter, dropping to their knees in front of them. They put what they hope is a comforting hand on their shoulder, saying their name, trying to bring them back.

The hunter closes their eyes, and Lea lets out a shaky breath.

They should have just kept their mouth closed. They should have just done what he asked.

Lea wants to apologize, but it doesn't feel like it would be enough.

They just whisper their name again, and the hunter opens their eyes. Lea leans over them, reaching to take their face in their hands - but all they manage is the ghost of a touch, their palm barely brushing the hunter's cheek before the guilt forces them to pull away.

The hunter slumps back against the wall, bowing their head, and Lea wonders what would happen if they tried to hold them.

"Don't - don't try to get up yet," they stammer, pushing the thought from their mind.

"I'm fine," the hunter says, just like always.

"Yeah. I know," Lea sighs, and the hunter lifts their gaze then to look at them.

"You're bleeding," they say.

"Yeah, I know," Lea repeats. The hunter scoffs, glancing sideways, and they push Lea's hand away and try to stand.

"I just said-" Lea starts, jumping to their feet to steady them, clicking their tongue and grabbing at their arm.

Lea is holding them too tight, they know it, they can see it in the way their knuckles strain white, can feel it in the rush of heat beneath their palm, the hunter hot and shaking from being pinned to the floor.

Lea is reluctant to let them go, though - not because they think they'll fall, but because Lea is afraid that they themself will.

But when the doorknob starts to turn, Lea doesn't hesitate this time - there's no way to hide anymore, Lea's weakness clearly exposed in the hunter's shaking hands. They quickly pull the hunter back behind them, glaring over at the door, though they relax slightly at the familiar, friendly faces.

But they keep the hunter behind them, this time.

[solar-nightengale]

Also, maybe 30 or 50 from the touching one for

(Sorry, every time you mention them this is the only thing I think about)

Well hello again 😏😏

THTRHHDBTHRB I was NOT ready for that image but You know what? Yeah LOL

But fools were requested so the fools shall be given, in their full idiotic glory 😌💕💕

putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

“So how long do we plan on sitting here and reading that?”

Pinocchio sighed as he looked up from the book he had on hand. It was late in the evening, the clock above their door was ticking towards the next hour, and the toddler had been put to bed about an hour ago, after they had found her passed out next to Iskra.

Like many days when he had the time, the man had taken to settling down comfortably into bed and reading, Pinocchio taking the grand opportunity that is his lover being at home at the time to snag him and join in on the reading session. Until now the older had done nothing but fidget or lean on his shoulder as the woodcarver read for them both out loud with occasional outbursts.

They started five pages ago.

This was now comment number eleven.

“Until you can learn how to sit quietly and pay attention?” he asked, casting a glance up at Lampwick.

“I've never been more bored in my life, baby.” Lampwick groaned as he dropped his head against the headboard, Pinocchio rolling his eyes at that.

“Oh I'm sure you haven't.”

“Not even in school!”

“Yes because half the time you weren’t even there. And your education speaks for you in that regard,” Pinocchio pointed out, hearing the other scoff. “You’re setting a horrible example for that kid if you’re acting like this.” he continued as he turned his attention back to the book.

“You're so rude to me, you know that?”

No, Pinocchio will not be smiling because of how Lampwick draped himself over him. Nor at the pout that the other was giving him. He will not be giving him that satisfaction, even if it meant biting his lip to stop himself from doing so.

“Am I? I'm just being honest with you.” he stated, tapping the page as Lampwick wrapped his arms around Pinocchio's middle.

“I think that fairy needs to stop giving you such terrible ideas on what you need to do. She's tainting you, my blue-eyed doll,” Lampwick complained as he swayed the two of them around.

“Don't be silly,” Pinocchio claimed, still not looking up, though his grin was unfortunately in place now.

“And yet here you are, trying to get me to read what even is this? Shakespeare? Some other bullshit poetry nonsen-”

“Please stop.” Pinocchio cut him off, a hand over the other’s mouth. Maybe he should have expected nothing else, but most unfortunately for him at this moment, he hadn’t expected his betrothed to lick his hand. As though burned he pulled it back with a grimace. “Gods, you're disgusting! What are you, five?” Pinocchio exclaimed, as he wiped his hand into the covers.

Lampwick, however, wasn't deterred, as he grinned. “Yeah. Five years older than you.”

The snicker had Pinocchio looking up, giving the man a deadpan stare. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh. I'm sure you do.” Lampwick smirked.

“I hate you so much." Pinocchio muttered, as his betrothed snaked his arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

“Oh I feel your hate so much right now, Pinky. Very intensely in my chest actually. So much that I think I can hear a second heart racing.” Lampwick mused quietly into his ear, Pinocchio relenting with a scoff.

“Oh haha, very funny.”

The man paused, looking at the discarded book next to him and the still burning oil lamp. He smirked as he reached along the covers.

“Finally giving up on the read?”

He heard Lampwick ask, as he struggled to grab the book again. Successful in his endeavour, he snuggled back against the taller man, opening up the book once more with a sigh.

“Nope! Now I have you trapped so you've no choice but to sit through it!” Pinocchio proclaimed, hearing the man whine with quiet satisfaction.

[ashxketchum]

MIMATO WEEK 2023 (Random Update)

Note: I haven't been able to write on time as much as I wanted to, maybe by tomorrow I will post my Day 5,6,7 entries but until then I wanted to share something, so here is a prompt I got a year ago that was just sitting in my drafts for no reason! Enjoy 💙💚

Prompt: "Your heart is beating too fast to be close to someone you don't care about."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Listen to my Heartbeat ~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Digital World throwing them off track without a warning was something that didn’t make Mimi bat an eyelid anymore, and she was pretty much used to the ground beneath them slipping away in a flash, taking away with it any progress the group had made so far. So of course, she was unamused with the current situation, which was her being stuck in a cave with what looked like a light drizzle falling outside. The funny thing was, that while she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen rain in the Digital World, what she could remember was that she had never been stuck alone with the blond standing tall at the entrance of the cave.

Yamato had his back to her, as he peered outside, and though Mimi couldn’t see his face from where she was sitting, she knew it was probably scrunched up in a frown as he inspected the raindrops that settled on his hand. She half turned to pass a comment to Palmon and was bitterly reminded once again, that the only occupants of the cave were her and Yamato, and that the whereabouts of their partner Digimon and the rest of their friends were currently unknown to them. She definitely felt anxious, sitting there without Palmon to keep her company or spring into action to protect her if required, and wondered if Yamato too felt a similar unease, though would he answer honestly if she were to raise this question out loud?

Her eyes wandered over to Yamato again, and she was a little taken aback, maybe even slightly jealous of how much the scene suited him. With his pale, yellow hair shining in contrast to the dim, rocky walls of the cave and his lean figure just rightly fitting in the narrow crevice, nonchalantly bathing in the faint rays of light that escaped through the cloudy sky and surrounded him, he looked nothing less than a muse artists would stroke carefully onto their canvases or poets would write sonnets about. She held back a sigh, it was as if the colour blue, or rather the emotion blue, was meant to be embodied by him, and to Mimi that was a feat worthy of being envious over.

“What should we do?” She decided to speak up, as sitting around and admiring Yamato’s perfect features was something that she could do from anywhere, getting out of here and reuniting with Palmon took priority for now.

Yamato turned, and as expected, with a frown on his face he fixed his eyes on her, and she noticed a hint of surprise reflected in them, as if he had not expected her to follow his lead.

Which was something Mimi couldn’t deny either, she was more of a ‘my way or high way’ kind of girl, but when it came to things related to the Digital World, all of them had adjusted to a pattern that was hard to shake off. If something goes wrong, look to Taichi, and if Taichi is not around, turn to Yamato. It was simple and easy to remember, and pretty much the mantra that had managed to keep them all in one piece during their many escapades, even though lately they hadn’t had much of a success with it since both Taichi and Yamato were butting heads so frequently. Mimi was liking this new side of Yamato however, it was different from what she remembered of him from their childhood, and his recent tenacity was something she could relate to and even found herself drawn towards.

“I don’t think we should move about carelessly.”

She raised her eyebrows, well that was unexpected, and even a little bit disappointing. She could’ve expected that kind of statement from Jou or Koushiro, but given the recent circumstances, Mimi assumed that the blond would be ready to go all out at any given moment. She stood up, dusting off the dirt from her skirt, she wasn’t going to sit around and wait to be found.

“Suit yourself, I’m going to go look for Palmon and the others.”

Mimi moved to make her way out of the cave, but Yamato raised his arm, blocking the entrance as he shot her a glare, “I’m worried about Gabumon and Takeru too, but you saw what happened, do you really think it’s a good idea to go out there without our Digimon partners?”

He was referring to the attack that had broken the group from their brief moment of slumber and had unexpectedly split them up. A shiver ran down Mimi’s arms as she remembered the daunting size of the Digimon that had attacked them out of nowhere, and internally she couldn’t help but agree with what her senior was saying. It was not a good idea to move around carelessly, but it was an idea and that’s what she needed right now instead of sitting still and waiting for someone to come calling.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Mimi began, raising her eyes to meet his frowning gaze, “but maybe that’s what the others are thinking too, so how will we find each other if no one makes a move? We didn’t come to the Digital World to sit around and wait for help to find us, at least I know I didn’t.”

She knew she had hit a nerve and she did feel a bit guilty about it, ever since the whole thing with Meicoomon had begun the one who had been advocating for action the most had been Yamato, so for her to suddenly chide him about sitting tight was a low blow on her account. But she couldn’t help it, Mimi could feel the restlessness racing through her veins for every minute they spent together inside the cave. She had never spent so much time alone with him at such close proximity and the new feelings that were being stirred up in her heart when she looked at him, broad shoulders firm with determination as he refused to lower his arm and allow her to pass through, were completely unfamiliar to her.

“So you would gladly leave me behind?”

His voice was just a tone above a whisper but it was almost as if it rang through the cave like a loud, blaring alarm. It takes two to tango, is what his captivatingly blue eyes were saying as they fiercely peered into her own, if Mimi wasn’t afraid to cut corners then neither was he, which made it all the more difficult for her to look away and actually respond to his question. Not that coming up with an answer to his question would be easy, the way he was staring at her made it seem like he could look directly into her soul and would be able to sniff out any lies.

But Mimi had managed to dye her hair pink without her parents finding out until she walked out of her room with her hair bouncing about like a cart of cotton candy had exploded on it. She could handle one blond tundra.

“Gladly,” Mimi said, her voice slightly quivering, but still managed to resound firmly around them. She took a step forward, hoping that the threat of proximity would make Yamato lower his arm and give her the space to make her exit, but instead, he just tightened his grip on the rocky wall, muscles taut around his arms as he continued to stare her down, challenging her to come even closer.

She swallowed a gulp, he was the last person she expected to raise the stakes in a situation like this, what she had expected was that he’d get embarrassed and she’d take that opportunity to take the upper hand and make her escape. However, in the moment it was Mimi who felt embarrassed as she realised that if she raised her fingers just a little bit, she might be able to trace the shape of the tense muscles that clung to the white fabric of the shirt, and as crazy as it sounded to her, that’s all she could think about as they stood close facing each other down with such a fiery determination for perhaps the first time since they had met on the bus to summer camp all those years ago.

Why Yamato had decided to meet her challenge was still something she was unsure of, under normal circumstances he might’ve silently glared daggers at her and focused his attention elsewhere, that’s how he usually fought with people who weren’t Taichi, but then again Mimi and he had rarely ever disagreed on anything before, so there was no way for her to know how he would push back in an argument against her. She wished somewhere deep down, that if this was how things were going to go down, then she had been better off not knowing at all.

Mimi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to get the image of the blond looming over her in all his handsomeness out of her mind, what was important right now was winning this game so she could put some distance between the two of them and never have to deal with all these feelings stirring up inside her ever again. All she needed were a couple of words that would do the trick, they didn’t even need to sting per se but just surprise him enough for her to get a shot at creating an opening in the barrier that he had put up, metaphorically and physically both.

“I’m not intimidated by you.” She began, raising her voice by a pitch that made him wince as he looked over at her with humorous doubt, “In fact, I’m rarely intimidated by people I don’t care much about. And you’re one of them.” Mimi folded her arms across her chest and met his eyes with equal vigour, letting him know through her posture that she too was firm in her decisions and he wouldn’t be able to change her mind with a few lousy tactics. Lying wasn’t something she was particularly good at but the tension in the air gave her the strength to step out of her comfort zone and make a bold statement that would surely hit all the right notes and make Yamato angry enough to lose his cool.

But lately, he had been full of surprises and Mimi should've known better.

Just for a moment, she saw anger flash across Yamato's eyes before he covered it up with an expression she did not recognize. The corner of his mouth curved into a ruthless smirk as without a warning he lowered his head to level with her face, the tip of their noses now only centimetres apart. His warm breath brushed past her chin, which considering the chilliness surrounding them would have been a welcome feeling if Mimi’s whole body hadn’t frozen at the sudden lack of distance between the two of them. She wanted to lift her hands and push them against his toned chest so he would be forced to take a few steps back, she wanted to turn on her heels and stalk back into the inner depths of the cave so the cold air could help douse the fiery excitement that was now rushing through her veins.

But her hands and her feet refused to listen to her demands and stayed put, she felt a hot, burning sensation take over her cheeks as Yamato’s gaze dropped to her lips for just a brief moment, before his eyes met hers again, shining with an emotion she couldn’t find the right words to describe with. Mimi could feel her heart thumping rapidly against her chest, its hammering drowned out the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside in her ears, and she meekly prayed that the loud sound couldn’t reach Yamato because the air of confidence she had put on would crumble the minute he knew how nervous being this close to him made her feel.

Her prayers went unheard of course as the smirk on Yamato’s widened with amusement.

“Are you sure about that, princess? Because your heart is beating too fast to be close to someone you don’t care about.”

A soft whimper escaped her lips, and Mimi was ashamed of her reaction but her voice seemed to have gotten lost somewhere deep inside her throat. It was almost unbelievable that she was losing a battle of stubbornness against Yamato of all people, so all Mimi could do was blame the change in her attitude on the stupidly cold cave that made her long for the warmth of excitement that came with being the absolute centre of Yamato’s attention. She also blamed the Digimon that appeared out of nowhere and separated their little group in such an odd manner. Because she was sure that if a few more of their friends and their Digimon partners were around, this disagreement of theirs would have ended with both of them huffing and puffing and turning away from each other, not with their faces hovering so close that a single a push or a trip of her feet could send her lips crashing onto his-

“Yamato san, Yamato san, can you hear me?”

The two teens immediately pulled back at the sound of their friend’s voice. Mimi took a few steps back into the cave, her hands pressed to her cheek as she tried to hide the redness across her face. While Yamato ended up stepping out of the cave and into the rain, his pale cheeks however, betrayed no hint of embarrassment, only his chest fell and rose irregularly as he took a few deep breaths.

“Yamato san, can you hear me?”

The two turned their attention to the source of the voice, Yamato's digivice which was attached to his pant’s belt loop. Frowning, the blond removed it from his pants and raised it towards his mouth, responding in a hesitant tone.

“Koushiro?”

“Yes! I’m glad I was able to connect with you too. I’ve gotten hold of everyone else, well except Mimi san but I was planning to reach out to her next.”

The digivice being used as a walkie-talkie was something new to both of them, but if someone was capable of figuring that out it was Koushiro. Yamato lowered the digivice, holding it between the two of them so Mimi could lean in closer and listen better too.

“Mimi’s with me.”

It was a simple statement, a factual one in fact, but the words made Mimi’s stomach churn unbearably. She wanted to slap herself across the face just to get out of this stupor she seemed to be under, Yamato and she had never been anything more than casual friends, and she should know better than to dream of something more.

“I see...That’s...uh that’s good to hear.”

Koushiro’s voice seemed more timid than earlier, as if he was not happy to hear about how the two of them had ended up together. Yamato too must have noticed the change in their friend’s voice as he scowled at the device in his hand, possibly annoyed that Koushiro would take a dire situation like this and make it about his feelings for the brunette.

“What do we need to do next?” Yamato cut right to the chase, the urgency in his voice made it seem like he wanted to put an end to the whole dilemma of being stuck alone with Mimi as soon as possible and that finally made the jumbled-up feelings inside of her calm down for a minute.

“Let me explain the rendezvous location to you…”

Mimi tuned out the conversation, knowing that Yamato would guide her in the right direction, she took that time to collect herself instead. By the time they left the cave and followed Koushiro’s directions to where they would meet up with their friends, the surge of emotions she’d felt by simply being around Yamato alone began to simmer down. The two walked in silence, with Mimi trailing slightly behind. She was dragging her feet across the ground so slowly, which came as a surprise to Yamato and he would often turn to check if she was still around. He must have thought her behaviour odd, considering how aggressively Mimi had wanted to get out of the cave to go look for Palmon a while ago.

But now, she knew that the minute the two would reunite with their friends the problems surrounding the Digital World would take centre stage in both their minds. Until the battle was over the two would probably never get the chance to think about what had almost happened between them in the cave. What Mimi feared the most, however, was that both of them would eventually forget the heated moment they had shared and never again make an attempt to get close to each other.

Which is why she walked slowly, to keep the memory of Yamato’s mesmerising blue eyes staring at her lips fresh in her mind for as long as she could. Deep down she hoped that Yamato would do the same, because maybe, just maybe if both of them held onto the memory of their tryst tightly, it wouldn’t wither out as a dream and remain rooted in their minds as something real for years to come.

- x -

[arkadavinia]

hi, you probably aren't even showing up here anymore but just wanted to say that I hope you don't give up on your fic We grow up apart, together and again! because I recently discovered it and it broke my heart to know that you haven't updated it in over 3 years. hope you come over there soon 😢❤

Oh anon, im always here, creepin'. Never fear. And 'given up' is a strong phrase for it, but whenever i sit down, reread or think about 'We grow-' i got 3/4ths of the way through the story, and then, as it does, life happened. Whenever i try to find that muse these days, its really faint, and i worry about writing more, and how much the voice will have changed.

But if you want, I can tell you more.

Cause, when they go to Ohio, Kevin was supposed to bring up telling their friends, like a doof, and Aaron was all like, "we haven't told anyone so far and basically everyone knows." Which may also just be because he did already tell Dan, and theres no knowing how many of their friends she told.

Ohio was to be a meeting and remembering and then an accepting of how being friends, who have become together, doesn't always change how you interact with others. (We Grow with Friendship) Its not a brand or a sign you have to display constantly, large and loud. Its a casual reworking of how a group of people sit in an area, where just because your a couple doesn't mean you have to be attached at the hip. Even if Nicky follows them around all week cooing when they even so much as pass a snack bowl.

After Ohio I was planning a bit of a time skip. (We Grow into New Shapes) Into Aaron's residency, because honestly, the with how busy Kevin is always, and how much busier Aaron would be while doing class and residency, I knew it was a place where I could see them doubting their relationship. And Kevin being Kevin I can imagine he would stew in it. He would want to talk about all the horrible things Aaron may see, and the hardest part of being a healthcare worker in any capacity would be losing a patient, but legally, you really can't talk about those moments. Which is hard, to comfort someone without really understanding why they need comfort.

The last chapter tho, was supposed to be for Kevin. Cause a large part of how or why they got together was around Thea. (We Grow Again) The plan was that Thea would finally hear that Kevin was with Aaron, cause her head was so far up her butt, she assumed he would just come back- which is mean, but the way i built her up in this story was also mean. So when she finds out he's actually moved on, is living with someone, and in a relationship with them and still seemingly thriving in his professional career, would probably make her want a confrontation.

(That was the other thing about this voice- muse- story, i am not a confrontational person and writing confrontational people like this, was hard for me. Finding this voice is hard, and now being so removed from it, i feel it would only let people down to continue it.)

But chapter 12 was to show Kevin standing up for himself, his relationship and trying to make someone he used to care about, a lot, understand that he's happy now. He's okay. They're okay. And that's okay. It doesn't have to be great- probably would never be great, but it was okay.

I started this story at a point when my life was going in a direction that I hadn't predicted, and i felt very powerless to control it, but i was able to find a way to make it okay- again, not great, barely even good, but okay.

A lot of it had to do with COVID, and being in college where things were turned up on their heads. I live in a state that was one of the first to shut down, and we got a lot of flack for it. I think it was the right call, but i was also in hospitals doing clinical work and seeing this new illness tear through the facility was scary. I had those moments later, after the bans and shelter orders were over though, where i stood outside hospital rooms and watches people die from an illness they didn't believe could affect them. I had to sit with my husband while he cried because his parents refused to listen to anything scientific, did not take precautions and ended up in very sever situations because of it. (his mother is an RN, i was livid, still am) (they are okay now, for the most part, three weeks in the hospital changed their tunes a bit tho) But my voice is better now, generally. i graduated from college, passed my registry exam, worked in that same facility for 4 month and then found a better position for me. My relationship is much better and while there have been other twists, I am a better me than i was.... in January of 2020. Man, that was three years ago, whhhhaaaat.

Sorry for the long post, but Ive been meaning to post something about this for a while. So thanks, Anon. But also sorry, if this isn't all you wanted, literally. But i don't think I have these voices in my any longer.

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

(I see we're toeing a line again, Marve...)

I'm sitting in a front-row seat of the old auditorium, staring at an empty stage dimly lit by a single shaft of light coming through one of the back doors. I hear footfalls as someone makes their way down the rows.

"Is this seat taken?"

It's not the Muse. Not the current one, anyway.

"Wait a minute. What the hell are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "Hey, it's your brain. You tell me." He looks around. "I haven't seen this part of your head before. How come you never invited me up here?"

"I didn't even know I had an entire-ass auditorium in my head until recently. There's a lot of things I'm discovering about my mind these days. I mean, I didn't even know you were still in my head. But I guess none of you ever really leave, do you."

"Yeah, we're all still here. I've met the other Muses in the break room next to your hippocampus." He slides into the seat next to me. "Seriously though. You look like you've been having a bad day. Do you wanna talk about it?"

My voice cracks. "I'm fine."

"Marve." They put an arm around me. "If I'm here, it's probably because things are not fine."

Hot tears well up in my eyes. I try to laugh it off, but immediately realize the absurdity of trying to conceal my feelings when I'm literally sitting inside my own head next to the manifestation of some aspect of my personality.

"Yeah... okay. I'm not fine. There's a whole bunch of emotional baggage that I've apparently been holding onto since I was in high school, just a mess of weird perfectionism and impostor syndrome and depression and loneliness. That would be why you're here; my brain isn't exactly subtle about like, symbolism and shit."

I lean against him. "You were seriously one of the few good things about my teenage years, you know that, right? I looked up to you because you were like, this absolute fuckin' weirdo who I could relate to and who was also successful." I feel his shoulders heave with a barely suppressed chuckle. "No seriously," I continue. "You gave me hope that there might be a place in the world for me after all."

"There absolutely is a place for you in the world. But you know why? Because you carved one out for yourself. You did that. That's something you can be proud of."

"But now what? What was all that surviving for? When will I finally have something to show for it all?"

"Wait, seriously? You don't think you have anything to show- ohhh. You don't think you have anything good enough for the Muse. That's what this is."

I look up at him. "Hold up. Do I detect a hint of... jealousy?"

"You didn't have any hangups about showing me your work. I'm just wondering out loud what's different this time."

"Oh my God, dude."

"I realize this may sound rich coming from me of all people, but... you don't actually have to impress the Muse just because he inspired you."

"This isn't really about him, though."

"Oh? Because there's a giant corkboard posted in the chart room of your prefrontal cortex labeled 'Five-Year Plan for Getting Noticed by Senpai' that has gone through numerous revisions over the last eight months."

"Who let you into my prefrontal cortex?!"

"Marve, I'm a figment of your imagination. No one's going to badge me when I show up. But back to the point... if you're going to use us as your yardstick for whether or not your limerence has gotten out of hand, I'm going to remind you that you didn't have a five-year plan to get my attention back in the day."

"I didn't plan for anything back then. I didn't see the point. In an alternate timeline I might have, though."

"So you have more control over your life now, but you want to devote it to maybe impressing someone you've never even met?"

"He's a stand-in for me. Until I can like myself enough to be my own motivation again."

"But this limerent devotion isn't helping you if it's making you feel inadequate and anxious."

"At least something is motivating me again. I just need a reason to keep going until I can find the next reason to keep going."

"Your five-year plan doesn't include any solid strategy to transition away from chasing after the Muse as your main source of motivation. If this whole thing is only supposed to be a narrative frame for your own personal growth, where and how exactly does personal growth fit into this narrative?"

I slide off his shoulder down into my seat and sigh. "Hell of a way to get called out by my own brain."

"Marve, you know I don't hand out compliments of any kind lightly. When I said that I was impressed by how smart and talented you were, I meant it. And now I also know what extraordinary inner strength you have in you, too. You have no reason to consider yourself inadequate. If this weirdo- if you meet him IRL and he doesn't like you, that's on him, not you."

"...you're a little jealous."

"I'm not. Granted, I do have some... questions about his whole deal. But what I really care about is keeping you from running yourself into the ground again. You say you know who this is really for, but I think the boundaries have gotten too fuzzy and it's time for you to pull back and refocus on you."

"Dear God. This is possibly the weirdest pep talk I've ever received from my own brain."

"I hope it means something, to hear it coming from me. Don't forget that there have always been people out there rooting for you. Including myself."

He leans over and kisses my cheek. "I'll see you in your dreams, Marvy. I'm usually somewhere in there if you're doing the Inception Architect thing. Come find me and say hi."

With that, he gets up to leave. I watch him go, still trying to process everything that's just transpired.

[rainintheevening]

13, 20, 24 for Promises of Fools

Hum, I've talked about Promises of Fools so much on here, what is there left to say? Lol. Let's find out...

(From these asks.)

13 - Write a lil snippet set in this verse.

(Reminder that Ahsoka is Obi-Wan’s padawan in this 'verse.)

"No, Skyguy, you're supposed to rest!"

"I can't, I know where they are, I know how to end this!"

"You did end it! The Sith Lord is dead! Palpatine’s gone!"

"But the Separatists aren't. And I know where they are! All the leaders. If we get there now, we can get a surrender! We can truly end this!"

"How do you know this?" Mace's voice was quiet.

Anakin shrugged, reached again for the commlink in Ahsoka's clenched fist. "I don't remember. Palpatine–" the name tasted bitter and he bit his tongue for a second. "The emperor might have said something? Or perhaps it was the Force. Maybe it was Qui-Gon? I don't know. Just please, Soka. Let me bring them home." He met her gaze, went for her heart. Both their hearts, really. "Bring him home."

Her shoulders dropped, and she smiled involuntarily, dropped the comm into his hand. "Let me guess: You won't let me come with you."

Anakin sighed, thumbing the comm over to Rex’s frequency. "I need to know someone's watching Padmé's back. She'll be under a lot of pressure right now. And with the babies..."

Ahsoka nudged him in the Force, calm, determination, trust me. "Sure thing, Skyguy."

He paused before hitting the call button, glanced over at Mace. "Do you trust me?"

Mace stood, looked him in the eyes. "Completely. Go. I am needed here. Much has been broken, and there is much to repair."

Anakin huffed, hit call. "Literally and metaphorically."

"General!"

Rex’s voice was sharp, loud.

"You're alive! We saw everything on the holonews, but they kept saying you'd been killed!"

Ahsoka winced. "Should have thought of that," she muttered.

"Pardon me, sir, but what in Corellia's hells happened?"

Anakin grimaced at the memory of Palpatine’s leering face. "The emperor was the Sith we were looking for. And I... had to stop him." He heard Rex’s sharp intake of breath, and hurried on. "But it's not over yet. I know where the Separatist leadership is." A deep breath, and Anakin sat up straight on the edge of the bed, some of the power of his next words beginning to sink in.

"Rex. Captain. Would you like to go end this war?"

A brief silence, followed by an incredulous, nearly-whispered, "Sir?"

Anakin’s reply was equally soft. "Truly, Rex."

He had never heard Rex laugh like that, before the soldier caught himself. Anakin could almost see him, pulling himself up straight and steady.

"It would be the greatest honour of my life, General Skywalker."

Anakin exhaled, stood. "Comm Appo. Resolute up in 30. We're headed for Mustafar. But we'll need to set up a rendezvous point with Obi-Wan. I'll comm him from the ship."

"Yes, sir!"

"Skywalker out."

Anakin lowered his hand, turned to Ahsoka and Mace, found himself smiling faintly. "Alright, you two, where are my clothes?"

20 - Share THREE headcanons! But about different characters.

- Qui-Gon and Padmé have tea once a week during the war. They talk about everything, but they also keep each other's spirits up about Obi-Wan and Anakin.

-Artoo recorded Anakin and Padmé's wedding, and sometimes when Anakin is stressed or angry and alone, especially after Qui-Gon dies, Artoo plays some of that footage. Sometimes it makes Anakin cry, but it always helps him re-centre himself.

-Boga survives!!!! Because Order 66 never gets activated. She gets gifted to Obi-Wan, and although she stays on Utapau, he visits once every year.

24 - Ramble about something you haven't gotten to talk about yet.

Honestly, I feel like I've rambled about it all, except for a couple things that deserve their own posts. There is this one fun thing I mentioned to Adi (@clawedandcute).

We were talking about Padmé and Qui-Gon, and I mused on their relationship in this AU.

I wonder if she would call Qui-Gon 'Grandpa' too? Anakin calls him that sometimes, mostly to tease him about how old he is, but also when he's feeling particularly emotionally vulnerable, like a code for 'I need to talk, can you just listen?'. Anyway, after they get reunited with Padmé, and ESPECIALLY after she and Anakin get married and she's part of the family, I like to imagine her calling Qui-Gon 'Grandpa'. Oooo, I'll bet during the war, when Anakin and Obi-Wan are away, Padmé and Qui-Gon often have tea together. And whenever Padmé gets anxious or stressed out, she comes to visit Qui-Gon in the Temple and they'll walk in the gardens until she's feeling better.

(Yes, I copied the text because I'm kinda lazy.)

Okay, that was fun!!! Thanks for the asks, love. 😘

[bellezaycafe]

sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 2.

Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

warnings: swearing, hints of romance (ugh).

comments: this is a bit of a filler chapter to characterise some things. enjoy :)

Max Verstappen was passing the Mercedes hospitality and chatting to GP, his race engineer, when someone caught his eye. Dark brown hair, round face, sharp nose and an aura that compared to no others.

“Wait- hang on. Lewis! Lewis!” The older man, who had been leaving his hospitality, looked over and his gaze followed Max’s pointed finger. “Mate, is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah man, I think so.” Lewis’ smile only grew as he agreed.

“Who are you pointing to?” GP asked.

Max hoped that there were no cameras around as he said, “the volunteer from Australia. The good one.”

He didn’t know how else to explain his respect for her in English; to him, she was good.

“It’ll be good to finally learn her name,” Lewis mused, scratching at his neat stubble.

“None of you know her name?” the engineer asked.

“No,” Lewis said. “I never had the chance to find her after the interviews.”

“I saw her the next day, I apologised for my behaviour to her,” Max commented. “But I forgot to ask her for her name.”

GP shook his head. “Alright well, I’ll see you in the garage. Don’t be long.”

Max nodded respectfully while Lewis said, “thank you.”

Then they both charged through the crowd towards the last place they saw the woman.

“Bets on her name?” Lewis asked, zipping his Mercedes suit around his hips.

“I don’t know. Something very Australian?”

“I feel like she’s a Layla or a Nira.”

"I think it's Sadie," came Lando's voice as he squished himself between the champions. "I asked Dave, one of the McLaren staff."

But when they reached the spot she had been, she'd vanished.

Max frowned and tried to use his height to see her but it was hopeless. Lewis pulled his phone out of nowhere and dialled a number. Lando just sat on the edge of a nearby pot plant and, as if by magic, Oscar appeared beside him in a matching McLaren t-shirt.

"Heya," Lewis said into his phone. "I'm gonna need a paddock pass for our garage."

A pause.

"No, ass. I haven't found someone for the weekend and I don't intend to. It's for the girl from Melbourne, the volunteer George told you about... Yes, I know Carmen wants to meet her, that's why I'm asking you for a paddock pass."

Lando laughed from his seat, something boisterous and loud that had surrounding staff glancing over. Oscar was smiling like he was the reason for Lando’s outburst. Max was glad to hear the McLaren driver’s laugh again, it had been too long since they had hung out.

"No, I don't know her last name. I haven't even confirmed her first name... I can't ask her, she's not in front of me... I don't know where she is, we saw her from a distance... Max, Lando and Oscar... Alright, fine. We'll find her."

Lewis hung up and sighed with a glance to the sky.

"They won't give you a pass?" Max guessed.

"They need her name first."

"Did you see who she was with?" Lando asked.

"Yeah," Lewis said. "Some paramedics. I recognised Mark, he's been the on-call medic for years."

Max mulled over the fact he hadn't noticed anyone around her. He also mulled over the excitement little Lando Norris was trying to squash.

"I know where the medic tent is." He almost leapt up from his perch.

Oscar gave Max a knowing smirk as they disappeared into the crowd.

——$——

Sadie had no idea the drivers had seen her. She was hoping that none of the drivers would remember her. She still hadn't seen their interviews from Melbourne and was clueless about the actions the FIA had taken to hand out penalties efficiently.

"Hungry?" Mark, a middle-aged paramedic with greying blonde hair and smile lines besides his eyes, asked.

"I am starving, please tell me there is somewhere I can get a decent sanga."

Mark frowned. "Sanga?"

"Sandwich," Sadie corrected. She was almost bouncing as she spotted the food trucks.

"You Australians are weird," Mark quipped but he couldn't hide his smile.

"And you English are uncultured," she returned.

She liked Mark, they'd met yesterday during practices and clicked. He was her supervisor during the free practice sessions and qualifying but she'd stuck by his side off track too. He didn't mind, he knew she was there, on the other side of the world, alone.

He'd told her at the volunteer's group dinner last night that she was living the dream he had wanted to at 20. He'd had a couple wines and would not shut up about how much his wife would love to meet her.

"Mark, what do you want?" she called over her shoulder as the reached the sandwich truck. When he didn't reply, she glanced behind her.

He was 100 metres back, talking to none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Sadie turned back around, remembering her interaction with the drivers in Melbourne.

Another body stepped up beside her, swathed in bright orange.

Correction: Papaya.

Sadie didn't turn, assuming it was a McLaren employee looking for some early lunch.

"It's a surprise to see you here." Lando Norris offered the icebreaker.

She turned at his voice and fought to keep her composure. His brown curls swished as he turned his head towards her. Oscar’s equally brown eyes warmed as he smiled and waved slightly from the otherside of Lando. 

"I didn't think you'd remember me," she said truthfully. Sadie focused her eyes on the bridge of the older driver’s nose as she spoke, she didn't want to meet those ever-changing eyes. She'd already noted that they matched the day's grey sky.

"Most of us did." The driver shrugged. "Carmen, George's partner, wants to meet you. Lewis is trying to get you Mercedes paddock passes."

Sadie groaned at that, stepping closer to the food truck as the line moved forwards. "I'm not stepping near any of your garages unless I'm doing my job. Too many cameras, too many people."

Norris laughed. "Understandable, but Lewis is determined."

Sadie paused for a moment as the line moved again. "How about, I will come and meet Russell and Carmen after the race? I'll meet Carmen while Hamilton and Russell do their interviews and debriefs?"

The same brown curls swayed as Norris nodded. Piastri muttered, "I think they'll agree to that. All the cameras will be focused on the interviews and top three."

Sadie made an 'exactly' gesture and stepped up to the food truck with a goodbye wave.

By the time she had ordered her sandwich and Mark's signature wrap, the drivers had finished speaking with the paramedic.

He joined her while they waited.

"You never told me it was you who scolded Max in Melbourne," Mark noted.

Sadie muttered a curse. "I was hoping that everyone had forgotten about that. I lost my temper and I'm not proud of it."

"Lewis said that you stood up for yourself. Max doesn’t hold a grudge."

"I scolded him like a school teacher."

"You did call him a child."

"Angry, remember?"

"Sandwich and wrap for Sadie!" the food vendor shouted.

She stepped up, collected their food and handed her wrap to Mark.

"I didn't tell anyone about it because I don't like media attention," she told him, but she could feel her sweaty palms. "I hate how the media follows the drivers. They have to fight for a private life, and I hate that. Verstappen was angry, I was angry, and that interaction was something between the drivers and I. It had nothing to do with the fan's consumption of the race."

Mark hummed his agreement around his wrap. He hadn’t noted her shifting feet. 

"The media circus doesn't know what happened, and they don't need to. His reaction was fair, and they don't need to be involved."

Sadie watched something pass over Mark's face but she couldn't place what it was. She devoured her sandwich instead.

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