#“oh no worries ill send an assignment your way to make up for it”

[uygfiug]

im struggling so hard to remain polite

[aliorsboxostuff]

ANOTHER SELF INDULGENT FIC? YES. I told yall i love fangs SO MUCH AAARGHH and MIGUEL?? HAVING FANGS?? HELLOOOOOO anyhow this is just full of me simping for that beautiful, insane man. Gotta love me a dilf with fangs and claws. Anyhow enjoy this piece yall lmao. I PROMISE ILL GET TO YOUR REQUESTS

Canines

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Miguel O’hara x gn!reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Jessica Drew, Ben Riley, Spider Society, No Smut, Almost ig?, Fluff, He/Him prns for Reader, Reader is a sunshine, Soft!Miguel, Established relationship, This is just me simping for Miguel tbh, gotta love this man, slight sub!Miguel, Kissing, making out, HIS FANG BRO

Even after spending time with Miguel, successfully becoming his boyfriend and getting on his good side, there's the one thing you can get your mind off of; those damn fangs.

—

You and Miguel have been dating for a solid 5 months now. You still remember the day you got introduced to the spider society and met him. Those dark eyes that flash red, tall and broody, sharp talons that scrape against metal, swept back hair that might as well have swept you off your feet. No literally. The first day you went to meet him you tripped on air and fell straight into his arms. 

How did that manage to win his heart? Now that's the real anomaly. 

One thing you can't get over and can't seem to wrap your head around is his fangs. You’ve been told by him it's used to paralyze enemies when needed, and most of the time he forgets it’s there. But in your mind, you keep replaying the times when he talked, or his rare smiles and laughs reserved for only you. How does he eat with it? Did he ever bite himself when he goes on his rants? How does he not have a lisp with how big they are?

When the sharp fangs glints and it sends shivers down your body. Curiosity and arousal clouds you whenever Miguel talks, and it’s honestly distracting at team meetings.

��Hey, you there?” He snaps his fingers in front of you as you blink away the thoughts, realizing a couple of other Spideys in the briefing looking at you with squinted eyes. 

“Oh yeah- Sorry, pre-mission anxiety and all,” You tried to laugh it off, averting from Miguel's worried gaze. He knows you're capable, he knows you're strong, that's the reason why you're always with him on missions, why you're trusted with a team. But those flashing red eyes couldn't help but hesitate each time you leave the base. 

Miguel continues the brief, assigning teams to universes and anomalies. He sends you off with your teams while he leads his. Each team consists of two spideys, if the anomaly is a particularly notorious villain in their respective universes, Miguel would send three. You’re standing next to Jessica, her bike parked just meters from the portal. While the others had already jumped, Miguel stayed behind while Ben jumped first into the portal. The hum of Jessica’s bike startles you and breaks your eyes from staring at Miguel, and she seems to notice.

“Go ahead, go talk to him,” She nods, a small smile on her lips before she rides off into the portal. You sigh, with your boyfriend staying behind, he seems to have the same idea. 

You walk across the metal floor, Miguel standing just near his portal. “So, an easy one today, huh?” 

“Yeah, me and Ben can take care of him, it’s just another Doc Oct,” He checks something on his watch, the orange hologram lighting up. You can't help but notice it gleams against his fangs. 

“Alright, uhm-” You cough, alerting Miguel as he turns to you. “Be safe out there, babe,” 

The way you said those last words, too small for your usual cheerfulness, makes Miguel’s brows furrow. He reaches for your hand, softly holding them. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry baby,” You smirk, patting his arm where he’s still holding your hand. “Stay safe, and come back home, okay?” 

Miguel tilts his head slightly, before his lips quirks, a ghost of a smile. “You too, my love,” 

And with that, Miguel turns and enters his portal, the circle closes as he disappears. You sigh, both relieved and frustrated somehow. You shook your head, trying to dissipate those thoughts, at least for the time being. Glancing at your portal, you take another breath, before running and leaping into it, another day of saving the multiverse.

—

“Okay, what's going on?” You turn to Jessica leaning on her bike, arms crossed and one brow raised. It’s the ‘Spill It’ face you’ve come to love, but also loathe when she uses it on you.

“What’s ‘what’ going on?” Jessica scoffs, tilting her head when your back is still facing her while you twip a web at the Lizard's jaw, the anomaly tied and secured, ready for transport. “Nothings going on,”

She sees you shrug as you turn around, her only response is to nod again, gauging an answer. Her eyes stare deep into you, making you gulp as you aver her sharp, questioning glare. A beat passes, your suit suddenly feels clammier than usual. You tug slightly at the part that hugs your neck, looking down at the street. 

“Okay fine!” You huff, a satisfied smirk from Jessica. “I’ve been thinking about Miguel-”

“That's not new sweetie,” She snickers, making you stumble on your words. 

“I’m- I know but it's not about him… I guess?”

“Go on…”

“Have you-” You huff, crossing your arms. “You’ve seen his fangs, right? Those sharp things,” You point to your own little fangs, which makes Jesicca hum.

“Hard not to,” She shrugs.

“You ever wonder how sharp they are?” You tilt your head, fully turning to Jessica. “Y’know it's pretty big, and pretty sharp, I wonder how he doesn't bite himself with it? Or how he doesn't have a lisp, or maybe he can retract them but then when he talks it’s always out so I don't know if he can do that, we’ve kissed a couple of times but I didn't feel those things-”

“Okay whoa there,” She chuckles, walking towards you. “I get it, cool fangs, you’re curious about them,” 

She places her hands on your shoulders, a grin on her lips. “That's what got you all distracted today?”

“Yeah… Sorry,” 

“Oh don't be kid, I get it,” She nods, before giggling. “Not ‘get it’ get it, but you're in love, and love makes curiosity and wonder, and I get that,” She pats your arms.

“Bring that up with Miguel, would’ya?” She grinned, a mischievous glint behind her goggles. You blink, realizing she has started walking back to her bike. You chuckle, a steady blush spreading on your cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I will,” You smile, shooting out webs to bring the anomaly back while Jasicca rides into the portal first.

—

Once the anomalies are stored in their cells and boxes, Miguel debriefs the others while you were making sure each anomaly is accounted for.

“I think that's all, right Lyla?” You nod to her small figure sitting on your shoulder. She looks at one of her holograms before nodding.

“Yep! All here,” Her holograms disappear as she glitches and changes to your right shoulder. She suddenly leans in, a dangerous smirk on her face. “So that's what’s up huh?”

You groan, flinching your shoulder which makes her hologram change to stand in front of you. “Lyla you know I hate it when you listen in,” 

“Hey I always listen in, y’know I’m online at all times,” She snickers. “Don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” 

You huff, which makes her laugh as you roll your eyes. You glance at Miguel, still talking with the other spideys, those distracting fangs just barely visible between his soft lips. 

“Sooo…” Lyla floats in front of you, again. “You plannin’ on saying anything?” 

She can practically hear the gears in your head turning, before you sigh and remove your mask, adjusting your ruffled hair. “I suggest you stay offline tonight,”

Lyla spots the blooming red that spreads across your face, at which she giggles mischievously. “Okay, whatever you say,” She shrugs before glitching to your right. “I'll just hang out with Margo then,” 

“Yeah, thanks Lyla,” A grateful smile on your lips. Lyla nods before she disappears and leaves you alone. 

Miguel has finally wrapped off the debrief and sent the others to do what they please since today's mission is over. The other spideys wave their farewell to you as they pass, you reply while you walk closer to your boyfriend. Jesica passes you, a sly smirk on her lips, before she pats your shoulder. You give her a small smile before nodding, and she’s on her way.

Miguel’s back is turned, busy with his monitor, wrapping up the day. His head tilts a bit, as he notices you're walking toward him. You pull one of the stray chairs to Miguel's platform and as if instincts, he sat down just as you pushed it behind him. His eyes are still scanning the monitors but he turns slightly towards you as you lean on the consoles. 

“Good job out there Miguel,” You smile, glancing at the screens.

“You too, as always,” His lips quirks, one arm rests on the chair while the other swipes at the screen. “Though I have seen some things we can improve on the teams. I haven't debriefed you yet like the others, so listen to me okay?” 

You nodded, crossing your arms into a more relaxed tone. “Good, so according to team three we need to-” 

And that's the last thing you hear before you turn to look at Miguel, catching that sharp glint of those fangs. Around you, Miguel usually lets his guard down, his way of letting you know he trusts you. So he talks more, his hands punctuate what needs to be punctuated, and those lips move wider. In other circumstances, listening to him would be easy, but with each word he spoke, a peak of those sharp fangs caught your attention instead. Miguel continues to point out the images on the screens, occasionally asking you a question to which you responded with a ‘Uhuh’ or ‘Yeah’. That seemed to satisfy Miguel until—

“-And that's to add the upgrades on your suit, what do you think?” 

“Uhuh,” 

“What?” Miguel retracts, tearing his eye away from the screens. “I asked about your suit?”

A beat passes, before you blink, realizing your boyfriend was staring, and shaking yourself out of the daze. “Huh? What did you ask?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. Sadly those muscles adds another point to the distraction. “Were you even listening to me?” 

He stiffens, watches as you stand in front of him, one arm on the chair's headrest, completely trapping him in. Slowly, your other hand moves up, and settles on his jaw. Throughout the months of dating you, Miguel has never seen this side of you, never seen how bold you could be. Steady hands cup his jaw, your thumb gliding across his lips, before you press slightly. As if a switch is flipped, Miguel inhales sharply and parts his lips, inclining his head when you hold his chin. Your thumb moves over his lower set of fangs, before suddenly followed by your other hand, pushing his mouth open to expose his upper, sharper fangs. His eyes flashes and brows furrows slightly, surprised at the sight of your rapt expression, eyes scanning him.

There's a hint of fondness behind those usually irritated gazes as he looks at you before he sighs and opens his mouth to continue his question before you were overcome with the sudden urge to see. You lean off of the console and approach your boyfriend. “Sorry, Miguel I just have to-”

“Fascinating…” You lean closer, taking pride in the way Miguels is stunned, practically crushing the armrest under his claws. Your index pushes at his upper jaw, letting you get an eyeful of that part of Miguel you’ve been dreaming about. It reflects the blue lights in the room, your eyes widen at it. Your thumb touches its start before gliding down to the pointed end, Miguel pants lightly. How would they feel against my skin?

Your eyes roam up to the prominent blush on Miguel's cheeks, the red in his irises shakes. Slowly, you bring him closer, one hand stays on his chin while the other moves behind his head. His eyes flutter as you press your lips against his, his gasp allows you to slide your tongue inside. Carefully, you trace that sharp fang, making Miguel grunt, his hand suddenly gripped your wrist, pulling apart.

“Don't- It’s dangerous,” He says between pants, the blush coloring his beautiful complexion. 

“Paralysis, right?” You smirk, fingers playing at his curled strands. Miguel shivers then swallows hard. “How about we unwind from today,”

A glint in your eyes, watching as Miguel becomes putty between your hands, his blown-out pupils staring at you in reverence. You smirk, breath ghosting against his lips when you bring him closer again.

“Show me what those fangs do, baby,” 

Reblogs appreciated! Requests are opened! <3

[strxbrymochi]

random when you're sick jaemin drabble

pairing: jaemin x reader (i tried to make it gen neutral djsjsjs)

words: like less than 1k ish??

warnings: mentions of sickness, illness, id say it be too close to home fr

synopsis: basically you're sick and jaemin's here to comfort you as much as he can long distance style.

note: a random ass drabble i came up w as im lying in bed sick for the 4th day and after a conversation i had with my mom bc i needed an outlet lol (its like 99% based on real life events other than the fact that i unfortunately do not have a jaemin with me 💔)

you absolutely despised being sick. okay, maybe sometimes you would be okay with it because it served as a formidable excuse to get out of work or your responsibilities for a couple days but that was when "sick" constituted to simply a cold or a fever that passes over the next day, not when you're tied down to the bed and the toilet every second of every day.

you wake up one day to shivers, brushing it off, you continue on with your day, heading over to work. on your way to work, you start feeling dizzy, nausea hitting you. you take a pill to calm down and make your way to your shift. today, you were working at a small fast food chain restaurant and if things couldn't get any worse, you were assigned to deal with the blowtorch. the heat from the fire and small space rushing all the way to your head but you push through, making it to the very end of your 3 hour shift.

making your way to your next appointment, you scavenge for food to hopefully give you back your appetite. you haven't eaten a proper decent meal all day; only crackers before you drank your pill. oh, and did i forget to mention, you headed into work with a 38 degree fever; claiming "to be fine" because you needed the hours to sustain your living expenses in a foreign country all alone.

at your meeting, you're met with fatigue. a wave of exhaustion rushes over you and coughing fits take over. your brain barely processing what was being discussed, only speaking when directly being asked a question. but still, you push through, ensuring everyone around you that you were going to be okay. that it will all brush away soon and that you really are just tired. your fever has reached close to 40 degrees.

you sigh, throwing your phone on your bed. on any other day you would have loved to talk to jaemin, especially now that you two were oceans apart. it killed you to know that if only you hadn't moved he would be right there and you could see him in person. that alone would've been all the medicine you need to get better. but alas, life had other plans.

the next couple days consisted of sleep, wake up, repeat. occassional trips to the toilet and visits from coughing fits disrupting your sleep that make you sound like you're entering into an entirely different dimension. you had absolutely no energy-- to eat, to move, to do anything really. when you said you needed a break, this wasn't what you meant.

jaemin would call you, or attempt to call you and you would pick up, if you were awake and if you were in the mood to speak. he would send you daily messages to drink your medicine, eat meals, get some rest. you knew he was worried and it killed you not to be able to ensure some type of reassurance everything was going to be fine. you knew if he found out what you had been actually doing, you would never hear the end of it.

one night you had awoken from your nap struggling to find something to eat, let alone the energy to consume anything. at this point, your stomach is practically bounded to an electrical heating compress to temporarily soothe your pains. you weren't sure if you were getting any better. your fever was relatively gone sure, but the coughs, stomach pains and diarrhea remained. let alone, that morning you almost passed out in the toilet, hearing muffled, ears ringing, vision blurred. all you could do is pray.

well, at least your sense of humor was back.

---

LOL such an abrupt ending idk i just needed an outlet to express how im currently feeling and whats been going on these past few days so if theres a delay with mtt or my other stuff i apologize once again 😭😭 need all the prayers and support i can get fr; being sick is one thing, being sick in a foreign country alone is another story. for anyone else who has gone thru or is currently going thru same thing, i hope yalls feel better soon and that know things will get better! bc i know thats what i need rn 🫡

[starlightrows]

15 — Shadow

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Serious illness, discussion of death

Summary: You are happy to be reunited with your team, but begin to struggle with some worrying health concerns

Your relaxing three days of “guard duty” doesn’t last nearly as long as you would have hoped. The moment you return to The Radiant you are caught up in the backlog of work you’ve missed and the current workload that comes your way. Long hours in the med bay, endless paperwork, returning to physical training and going out on assignment with the team whenever called upon.

Each day that passes leaves you feeling like you have less and less energy to start with each morning. Caf feels like it’s becoming less effective, but you still need it just to stay awake during your designated time for your notes and reports. You’re lifting lighter weights during training, physically incapable of making your usual mile time even when you push yourself, and just the other day you noticed after showering that your body is looking slimmer than what is normal for you. But you are not the only one who has begun picking up on these subtle changes.

Wolffe repeats your name for a second time, “Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” You snap out of your brain fog and look up from your data pad though you have no idea what you were just looking at on it, or what you and Wolffe had been talking about before you looked down at it.

“I said Ashoka will be joining us for the Uttresh mission” he repeats “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be nice to see her again” you nod “I’m fine, just tired”

“Just tired huh?” He gives you a stern look “You and I both know that this is more than just a little tired. You haven’t been yourself lately”

“Wolffe, I’m fine, really” you try to assure him, standing from your desk and coming around to stand close to him.

He brushes down the length of your arm and takes your hand, his face is still serious and unconvinced. “I know you don’t want to, but I really think you should take the rest of the day off, and maybe call one of your medic friends for a second opinion. It’s been three months and you’re still struggling. Don’t think I haven’t noticed”

Your face seems to fall when he says that. “I guess I can send my lab work out for a second opinion”

He lifts your chin “You can’t take care of us if you can’t take care of yourself, remember?”

“Yeah” you nod, you preach that to them all of the time. You need to listen to your own advice.

“Go take a nap, I’ll let training out early tonight and come spend time with you” he says, trying to sound positive

“And if I sneak back into the med bay to work?” you grin mischievously

“Then I’m going to sneak lock you in an exam room to rest” he counters “Don’t make me order you to go”

“Order me anyway, just for fun” you grin

He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss you “Go take a nap. That’s an order, Captain”

“Yes sir” you kiss him back and leave the office.

He’s glad to hear you teasing and joking, but it stings because he knows you’re covering for how miserable you are right now. True to his word, he lets the team out early from physical training and heads off to find you. He finds you laying on your bed, not sleeping just laying on your side and staring off into space. The door closes behind him and begins to take off his kit and boots, leaving it all by the door so he can lay down behind you. He curls himself around your body, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close. He presses his nose into your hair and kisses your head.

“Did you nap?” He asks, lacing his fingers with yours

“Yeah” your voice is soft and relaxed “I sent off the lab work to several of my colleagues. You were right, this is getting out of hand and I can’t afford to ignore it any longer”

His lip twitches, a pulse of frustration comes before the relief that you made the right call. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with this. And the prospect of this mysterious condition being something serious causes a sense of panic in his body that he shuts down and pushes away immediately.

“Whatever this is, we will figure it out together” he says “I promise”

“Thank you” you smile, breathing deeply “I prefer this you know. Being sick and with you, than working in that nightmare med station without you”

He chuckles a little, “I would rather you be safe and healthy, but I agree this is much better than the alternative”

You hum in agreement. A lull falls over you both. Happy to have the time and space to just be near each other, but below the grateful surface is anxiety and dread. The war doesn’t stop and this strange exhaustion and weakness is putting you at risk. There’s no sense in talking about it now when there is nothing to be done. Now you wait. Until the symptoms go away. Until a test comes back conclusive. Until one of your colleagues has a theory. Until the bloody war ends.

Weeks pass and you hear nothing from your friends and colleagues. You continue on as best you can, trying to make time to rest and research the cause of your sudden weakness and fatigue.

One afternoon Wolffe sits with you in your office, drinking caf and completing some joint paperwork.

“No responses from any of your friends yet?” He asks, he’s been trying not to ask every single day.

You shake your head sadly, “No”

“Not even to acknowledge the request or that they received the lab work?” He’s been more frustrated with this whole situation lately.

“A few did, most didn’t” you frown at the document you’re working on “It’s unlike them not to respond at all like that…. It gives me a bad feeling about all of this”

A gentle tap on the door stops him before he can respond, you look past him towards the door “Come in”

General Plo stands on the other side of the door when it slides open. “Good afternoon Captain” he address you “Commander” he nods to Wolffe.

“To what do I owe the pleasure General?” You ask, sitting up straighter and giving him a smile.

“Captain, might I have a word with you?” General Plo asks

“Of course, General” you look to Wolffe

“I’ll see you later” he nods to you “General” he nods, slipping out of your office and disappearing down the hall.

“What can I do for you General?” You ask, gesturing for him to take the seat across from you. He nods graciously and sits down.

“Over the last several weeks since your return I have noticed a difference in you. Forgive me, I do not mean to overstep into your jurisdiction as the team's medical lead, but are you feeling alright?”

“You would have to be blind to not see it” You admit “To be completely honest with you, I have not been feeling myself lately… and it scares me because I can’t determine what’s causing it”

“I assume you have run through an extensive list of conditions and illnesses”

You nod “And sent off my blood work, test results, and symptoms to several colleagues for other opinions. Haven’t gotten any responses yet”

“If you would be open to it, I spent many years in the halls of healing during my time as a Padawan. I am no doctor or medical professional by any means, but I can lead you through a meditation and try to delve deeper into the force to search for a possible cause or solution to your ailment”

“It couldn’t hurt… I would be honored General”

“Come” he rises and extends a hand to you, helping you stand from your chair. He leads you into the training room and uses the force to place mats down on the floor. You take a seat while he dims the lights in the training room. He joins you on the floor and begins to lead you through a breathing exercise to help you relax into a meditative state.

You’ve done meditations with General Plo many times, the breathing exercises and feeling of surrendering your mind to just be in the moment is familiar to you. Your body feels heavy. Like the ends of your extremities are weighed down with lead. It is so much effort to sit with proper posture that it exhausts you even just to sit. You hope that whatever General Plo can see or feel will be insightful or helpful in some way.

Plo senses the profound discomfort in your body, without even needing to delve into the force, he can see it in the way your shoulders sag and your normally bright features have grown dull in the last several months. He closes his eyes and reaches out into the void with his mind, open to whatever insight The Force may offer him.

He tunes himself into the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart. And suddenly he can hear not just your heartbeat, but many. Hundreds, thousands of heartbeats, but they’re off time and slowing. He can see endless rows of crisp white linen sheets on sick beds. He can feel an acrid layer of sadness, anger, and loss clouding this vision. Death. He senses death, in insurmountable numbers. The future, or a possible future.

He pushes deeper into the vision, embracing its message and seeking answers to questions he has not yet formed. He knows you are sick, and now he knows that you are not the only one. He sees you collapse and Wolffe at your side to catch you. His heart clenches at the pulsing anger, frustration and pain he senses from Wolffe in this vision. He feels your fear, your sadness and regret. He watches the light fade from your eyes and suffering snap its jaws around Wolffe and the rest of the team.

Plo turns his focus away from that future and sees another path. He looks into this alternate vision, and feels the same anger, frustrations and pain, but instead of staying to the bitter end he senses something else. A choice. One that leads to a departure, separation, but not loss. Not yet. The choice to hold on or let go. But it is not you who has to make this terrible choice. It is not in your hands anymore. Your fate is in the hands of those who love you most.

As Plo relinquishes his concentration and comes back to the present moment, he takes an extra moment to look at you and acknowledge his own feelings on the situation. You have always been a good soldier, a good doctor, a good team member. General Plo cares about every one of his soldiers under his command, appreciates them for who they are, and cares about their well being. And there is nothing he can do to save you from what you are already enduring or what is coming. There is just as much chance that you will live and there is that you will die. What a painful truth to reckon with.

He opens his eyes and severs the connection, “You are not alone Captain” General Plo says

“I know” you sigh “I appreciate the support”

“No, I mean to say that you are not the only one suffering from this mysterious illness. Thousands are beginning to realize it, more will follow” he explains

“What?” Your heart drops into your stomach

“I believe that this is not a singular case. I believe something has caused this illness and has already affected more people across the galaxy. I must return to Coruscant and speak to the council. Together we may be able to learn more through group meditation” he says, getting to his feet and extending his hand in offerance to help you stand as well. You take it and slowly get yourself up right.

“General, thank you for doing this with me… but I have to ask, did you see something you aren’t telling me?”

Plo had no intention of telling you the specifics of what he saw, he has learned better than to rely on the certainty of visions.

You take his beat of silence as a ‘yes’ “Listen, if I’m going to die I would so much rather know”

“I do not know the answer to that” he squeezes your hand “But may I ask, if I knew for certain that you would die, what would you do differently than if you knew for certain that you would live?”

“I would go into my final moments with my friends knowing just that. That it was the end. I would savor it and make sure the memories were happy and fun, so they would remember me that way” you say “I would make sure the people I care about know that I love them”

“Have no fear on that Captain” he pats your hand “Your love for those who are dear to you is unmistakable”

He departs within the hour, taking a shuttle cruiser to Coruscant having already notified the council of his visions and concerns. To his surprise, he is not the only Jedi that has suspected something was amiss.

—

Meanwhile, Wolffe retreated to his office. He didn’t really have any work to do there, he just needed to be alone for a little while. He’s glad General Plo has stepped in, maybe now you would get some answers or at least have a place to start looking for answers as to why you’ve been feeling so weak and sick lately. He absent mindedly starts sketching shapes and shading while he mulls over his heavy feelings. He’d picked up the habit while you were gone.

He realized he had no holo images of you. As the days bled into weeks, and further into months he had longed to see your face. He spent many hours laying up at night thinking about the shape of your lips, the bridge of your nose, the line of your jaw. He agonized over the shape of your eyebrows. Eventually he started putting lines on paper, continuing in spare moments of time until he realized that he had essentially been unconsciously making portraits of you. Now he does it all the time, especially when he’s stressed. Like right now.

It’s been torture for him to watch. He thought being separated was the hardest thing he’s ever gone through, but this is so much worse. You’re here with him, but each day you seem to be less and less of yourself. He’s watching you waste away and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a doctor or a Jedi, he’s not a General with authority to relieve you of military service so you can fully rest and recover. He would do anything to fix this, to save you.

A knock at the door breaks him out of this spiral, he quickly slips the notepad into the drawer of his desk and beckons the apparent intruder to come in. Instantly he regrets making his presence in his office known, because Roy strolls in with a smug look at a pile of paperwork.

“Ah, Commander Wolffe. I have a few matters I need to discuss with you” Roy closes the door behind him and sits down without invitation.

“Can it wait?” Wolffe glares at him as he sits

“No Commander, I believe that these matters are of the utmost importance and should be resolved immediately” Roy rifles through the papers, and places them on the desk in front of him.

Wolffe checks his chronometer, as if he actually had an appointment or somewhere to be, “You have three minutes” he relents.

Roy looks miffed at the minuscule time window he’s been given to make his case, but proceeds nonetheless “I have noticed that the Captain has been neglecting certain duties. Namely the reports pertaining to the annual health checks for all personnel in the legion, her obligations to be available for questions and contact as the senior medical officer. In addition to this she has made no effort to take on new mentorship opportunities or put in any recognition to the rest of medical staff's achievements. All of this leads me to believe that she has either grown lazy in her duties or become unfit to serve as lead medic. I insist that she be placed on probation until she can prove herself worthy of her station or removed from service altogether if she is truly incapable of doing her job.”

Wolffe sets his jaw and forces himself to hold his tongue, “Are you finished?”

“Yes, I think so” Roy says with a self satisfied look, and presses the stack of paperwork towards Wolffe

“Good. Listen very carefully” Wolffe says, standing up and leaning forward over the desk “She is your superior officer. Because she has put in the work and earned her place in the military and on this team. You are a spineless, selfish, arrogant worm and I have had enough of your self righteous demands for respect and valor you have not earned. Unfortunately, it is not within my power to have your transferred or discharged from the service, but I will be speaking to the Captain and General Plo about your insubordination”

Roy’s jaw hangs open and he blinks in surprise. Wolffe looks him up and down with a disdainful glare “If there’s nothing else, get back to work” Wolffe hisses, lowering himself back into his seat.

Roy’s shock evaporates and he returns the glare. The two of them sit in silence for a few moments, staring each other down. Finally Roy stands and exits the room. Wolffe shakes his head and scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation.

This can not continue. He knows there is almost no chance of getting him discharged or even reassigned, especially with you being unwell. He won’t say it. He can’t even think about it. If you have to be placed on leave because of this sickness… no. He will not let it come to that. He won’t lose you again. He holds you a little tighter while you sleep that night, no sense in telling you about the interaction with Roy, but still he held you close for his own sake. As if his mere presence could ward off all that seems to be plaguing you.

You didn’t hear from General Plo after he left for Coruscant. Irrationally you had hoped he could com within a day or two with news that he and the other Jedi used The Force and determined a cause that could be corrected. But no word came.

With each passing day the fog clouding you mind grew more dense, your energy sapped by the effort it took to move, to walk, to breathe, and then it all came to ahead. You were working in the med bay, no one was there who needed treatment, and you were on shift on your own with just a medical assistant droid.

One moment you were walking to put away some equipment and the next you were waking up on the floor. The medical droid trying to speak to you and some kind of alarm hazily blaring. It’s too much. The lights are too bright, the sound is too sharp, and you can’t find the strength to stand.

Wolffe drops everything when he receives the com that you’ve collapsed in the med bay. He drops everything and takes off sprinting down the halls with no regard for who sees or what they may think. Slush and Boost are right on his heels.

One look at you and Wolffe knows, this ship does not have the equipment or the staff to help you right now. Wolffe swallows hard and forces himself to breathe and stay calm.

“Boost, make contact with the nearest medical frigate and tell them we’re transferring a patient that needs intensive care” Wolffe orders

“Yes sir” Boost turns quickly and runs out of the med bay to make contact with the frigate

“Slush, prep the ship” Wolffe yanks Slush up by the arm and shoved him towards the door

“Yes sir” Slush backs out of the room, turns and runs too.

Wolffe is starting to feel bile creeping up into the back of his throat, like he wants to wretch. Panic. He can not panic. He turns to the droid

“Get her on the gurney, you will accompany us to the frigate” he says

“But sir, I am a —“ the droid begins to protest

“You are a medical droid. Your primary function is to treat wounded and sick soldiers. She is sick. Help me get her onto a gurney, now!” He snaps. The droid complies and helps move your comatose form onto a gurney. The droid puts you on oxygen and monitors your vitals.

Wolffe feels like he’s in a dream or a simulation. He walks with heavy and haunted steps as he guides the gurney down the halls and helps to load the ship. He barely recognizes his own voice when he tells Sinker

“You have command of the 104th until our return”

He doesn’t register anything Slush says to him, he just sits beside you as the ship takes off, and holds your limp hand.

It’s not until he realizes his com is buzzing from an incoming transmission that he is able to tear his focus away from you and the ringing in his ears. He takes a few steps away from you and answers the com. A holo image appears, of someone he did not expect.

“Rex?”

“Commander, where is she? Is she alright?” Rex asks, sounding frantic.

“She’s being transported to a medical frigate and we— hang on? How did you know something was wrong?” His mind is reeling

“They all are” Rex says gravely

“They? They who?”

“The doctors. The medics. The surgeons and nurses. Everyone that was reassigned to aid the wounded on Atraken” Rex explains

“What? What are you talking about?” Wolffe has to sit down. None of this is making any sense.

“All that left the base to go back to their normal assignments. They’re dropping like flies”

“Fuck��.” At a loss for words “Fuck…. What-what’s wrong with them?”

“From what I’ve been hearing…. Organ failure… almost a hundred confirmed dead already” Rex can see Wolffe’s image on the holo, and sees his own fear and confusion reflected back at him.

“So…is it contagious? Is anyone else at risk?” Wolffe asks

“Not as far as we can tell. Just those directly exposed”

“What do we do? What can we do? We have to do something!” Wolffe’s heart is thundering in his chest, adrenaline with nowhere to go or do

“For now… get her to the frigate. And do not let the doctors give her any bacta. It’s accelerating the processes and killing them faster…” Rex says “General Skywalker is working on a plan, I’ll let you know when I have more information”

Wolffe nods vacantly. There is nothing he can do.

Tag List:

@maulslittlemeowmeow @lucyysthings @justanothersadperson93 @lackofhonor @paige6768 @thefact0rygirl @ttzamara @nekotaetae @jennrosefx @kashasenpai @littledragonlady @love-space-nerd

[gumballavocadoharry]

Roger's day off; Jack Chambers:

Roger was sitting in his class, sweat making his face souse. His sight was a thick hazy fog, much like his mind that just wasn't focusing on the chalkboard but more on his pounding headache, that left him panting out of his mouth like a puppy dog. His nose was clogged, his throat had a slight scratch to it and his mouth was dry, yet sticky. Roger felt slight annoyance at the running tap nose he had, that constantly sent the back of his hand wiping it.

Roger laid his head on his desk, trying hard to rest his aching strained eyes. "Roger?" Valerie, a girl in his class who was his desk neighbor, gently poked him. "Are you alright?" Even with his face pressed down on top of his crossed arms, he shook his head, visible enough for Valerie to understand. "Kids no talking, Roger wake up!" The teacher announced from the chalkboard.

Roger lifted his head up to reveal a pastel colored boy with pink circles under his eyes and moist hair strands that stuck to his temple. Sniffles and coughs were triggered from lad the more he forced himself alive. The teacher furrowed her eyebrows and went over to Roger's desk. "Are you feeling okay Roger?" He weakly shook his head to confirm her reasonable perturbation. "What's your parent's number?"

Roger's eyes bugged out a little at the mention of his parents. "My mother's not home....she's at the mall a whole city away and my father's at work." The teacher gulped harshly. "Do you know you're dad's pager number?"

"555908," The teacher smiled and excused herself to make the phone call. Eyes were on the young boy as he laid his head down, staring out the window of the pearly leadan cloudy day. The leaves slightly swirled around in the wind and would land on the ground for only brief moments. In his peripheral vision, Roger's teacher came back into the classroom and continued the lesson.

"Your father's on his way Roger." The teacher smiled. Roger's heartbeat sped up faster. His rapport with his 'illnesses' at school for faking sick put him on the radar for not having a reliable back up. Guilt crept inside of Roger like acid swimming up his throat the more he thought on how well he would play his parents sympathy. He still remembers kindergarten, when he had a 'flu' virus and Alice ran up to the school like a speeding bullet. Half her hair was in rollers, as she was in the middle of doing her hair for an important dinner party.

Speaking of the acid, penetrating up his throat.....it sent Roger racing to the bathroom and tossing his cookies. Once he came back to the classroom, everyone's eyes were glancing between Roger and the teacher. It wasn't until Roger heard the gentle voice of his father, echo through the walls of the classroom, he felt at ease."Roger?" He made a beeline to his pale boy who was hunched over in his chair.

At first Jack's eyebrows were furrowed with unsureness as to another one of his son's gimmicks. Which if that being case, he would NOT be in the mood for. But his expression softened upon seeing the ailing little boy, barely able to sit in his chair. "Roger?" His soft voice matched the mellow touch he provided to Roger's cheek. The back of his hand trailed through Roger's sweaty temple and cheek.

"They told me you weren't feeling well," The teacher joined in and told Jack about Roger's recent trip to the bathroom shortly before he had come. "I'm sorry daddy," Roger's voice was weak and feeble, trembling with uneasiness and disorder.

"Oh puppy, it's okay. It's not your fault that you're sick." Jack said with a baby voice. Roger's tongue was out, panting again like a puppy dog. Jack's heart burst with compassion for the little boy. His immense worry and pity moved him to smooch his cheek and caress his cheeks. "Daddy's here, let's get you home." He said pitifully. Jack wrapped his suit jacket around Roger, gently standing him up from his desk. "I'll send you his assignments." The teacher revived with.

Jack's heart beat louder out of his chest than it already was once he saw Roger didn't even protest it. Sirens ran belligerently in his brain, scanning through the worst scenarios of what was making his boy sick. "Thank you, I appreciate it." Roger gave a small smile to his teacher before being escorted out of the class.

"You upchucked?" Jack asked, eyes not darting from his son for one second. Roger nodded. The hallways seemed like flashes to him, he was more focused on trying to keep his knees from buckling than answering the obvious question. Jack held him closer until they were in his car.

"We're going home now, don't worry." The car ride was one long headache for Roger, getting worse when they had to pull over so Roger could regurgitate the rest of his breakfast. He tried hard to eschew the tickle in his throat, but there's only so long you can rebel a tornado warning. Jack's heart disintegrated by the minutes of seeing his little Roger, in so much discomfort on the side of the road.

"Feel better?" Roger nodded, blowing his nose into a tissue he had in his pocket. "It's okay baby, just lay down in the car." Only then did Jack realize this was no prank or a trick to get out of school, Roger was REALLY sick. Jack carried Roger inside to his bedroom after locking up the car. He dressed him into his pajamas and tucked him into bed.

"Rest my munchkin, I'm sorry your tummy hurts." Jack said in a soft baby voice. "I love you, call me if you need me." Jack peppered Roger's cheeks with kisses. He felt they were flustered and red, so he took his temperature. "You....have a fever." Jack had worry in his voice. He gave a commiseration look to Roger before rubbing his cheek and aweing at his misery sympathetically.

Roger's eyes were hooded, drowsy and pupils dilated. His skin was clammy and he had congestion in his lungs. His shaky breathing and raspy coughs, sprinkled with harsh sneezes only tugged Jack's heartstrings more. "I'm making you some hot tea!" He called from the kitchen. Jack thought it to be light, considering Roger's sensitive stomach. "Here you go," In a sweet voice, Jack carefully handed Roger the tea. "It's hot." Roger sniffled. "Thanks dad." Jack cupped one of Roger's cheeks and booped his nose.

He sat down bedside next Roger. It was times like this where he was troubled, yet felt so powerless against making it all go away. Roger noticed Jack's deep dismal misery. It was almost pathetic how wretched Jack felt despite Roger being the one who was ill. " How are you are feeling baby?" Roger's drowsy eyes were enough of an answer for his father, but Jack needed words to hear.

"Tired, gross, sticky....but stable I guess," Jack pressed a sound kiss to his son's cheek. He grabbed his hand and gently rubbed it. "I'm right here Rogie, daddy's not going anywhere." Roger gave a small babyish smile, purposeful to arouse more compassion and provisioning from Jack. "D-dad, I could use a comic from my desk, please?" Roger spoke, with a frail, pleading voice. "I just really wanna read something before I...fall asleep."

"Oh, of course my teddy bear," Jack grabbed a couple comics from Roger's desk. "Thanks daddy." Jack smiled, pitifully and leaned down to kiss Roger's forehead. "Now, you rest and let me know if there's anything you need....drink plenty of fluids too."

Roger flashed a weak smile, making Jack blew a kiss to him before leaving. Roger grew an artful smirk, knowing that once Jack saw how truly sick he was, he would be in the palm of his hand catering to every beckon call Roger threw his way. Even in a flimsy state, Roger still showed his true mischief roots.

"Oh dad!" He hollered from his bed. Jack came rushing in, bucket in his hand and asprin in his shirt pocket. "Into the bucket Rogie, let it all out in the bucket!" Roger chuckled. "Oh no, it's not that. I was wondering if......you could, uh....well...you know those shakes from Freddy's?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "There's this one called the peanut butter blister....and I was hoping to try it out? If you can't I understand...."

"What about your tummy? Can it handle it?" Roger nodded, sealing it in with a 'fit' of coughs and sniffles. "It's the least I could have...because......I can't taste anything good that you or mom make...." Roger played the role of a sick terminal patient, who sheepishly requested for one last thing. Jack's eyes pouted with his quivering lip. "Oh of course! Anything for my chickadee,"

He grabbed his jacket from the other room. "Will you be okay here by yourself?" Roger gave a weak nod. But he didn't plan on that hesitating Jack into leaving him alone. "But, what if you get sick again?"

"I'll call?" Roger was set on getting that milkshake. Or maybe he was just testing Jack to see how far he could go with this? "You have to come with me Rog," Roger was satisfied and grabbed him jacket, ready to join Jack on his spoling road. Like a helpless infant, Jack held Roger in his arms as they went for a little joyride to Freddy's for Roger's peanut butter shake.

Deep down, Jack's guts turned realizing he was probably playing puppet Roger's ludicrous demands, but nonetheless dismissed it with the blindness of guilt and pity, especially stemming from how his doubts kept him aloof to Roger's cries at first until the proof spoke for itself. Poor thing! Must be a pain to be so unwell. Jack's thoughts were reasonable, but could easily be exploited if not limited.

Roger would make the cutest expressions, just to gather more selfish pity from Jack who he would robotically control to get the most out of his sickness. Jack reeked of sympathy, so it wasn't hard for him to be played. After Roger received his milkshake, Jack would occasionally ask Roger how he was feeling and if the it was too much for his tummy.

"Nope, It's great! Thanks dad!" Jack gleamed a jovial smile, before taking him back home. By then, Alice's car was in the driveway, and Susan was home as well. "Uh oh, what are we gonna tell mom when she asks where we were?"

Jack diverted his eyes to the rearview mirror. "Leave it to me bud, you just go upstairs and rest." Jack winked, leaving Roger feeling more secure and relieved. He walked through the door with his sanguine father, who's eyes met with Alice. "Oh thank goodness! I just got the news that Roger was sent home because he was sick!" Alice ran to him, feeling his warm forehead that was still moist and sticky and his matching high temperature cheeks.

"Oh my poor baby!" Alice kissed Roger all over his face, her maroon nails squishing his cheeks. "Daddy got you a milkshake?" She cooed, "It was the only thing he could really stomach right now....he had thrown up twice already." Alice gave a pitiful look to Roger before wrapping him in a hug.

"Here you go Roger," Susan handed him a picture she drew in school. "I heard you were sent home, so I made you this." "Thanks sis." Roger took the picture and escorted himself to him room. Despite his cheeky act, Roger genuinely did not feel well. At all. His body was hot and scorching despite the cool essence of autumn charging in, becoming more visible from the last week.

He internally complained of slight chills, furious coughing and sneezing rages, coming and going headaches, nose so stuffy that his breathing became laboured and the vigorous scratch in the back of his throat that wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Roger's slugged over body, doubled over onto his bed just before the room started spinning. Calefaction poured out of his chest like steam from a boiling pot of water. Was it the milkshake? Thinking became an exertion for Roger. His stomach wasn't even turning, it was his muscles that began to ache, and his vision became green.

"Hey baby," He heard the voice of his mother. "How you feeling?" Roger was so weak, that he couldn't even bring himself to speak the simplest words. His eyes flickered on and off like aged light bulbs that were counting it down until they shorted out.

Fear grew in his parents eyes, as Roger's mouth was open, air flowing in and out, but words were non existent. Jack layed a hand on his head. "He's burning up!" Alice ran and got the thermometer, as Jack held Roger in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth.

"It's okay, daddy's got ya." Roger could sense Jack was mostly reassuring himself. Alice practically shoved the thermometer into his mouth only for it to beep at 103. "That's a really high fever Jack!" Alice started to become frantic. Jack furrowed his eyebrows thinking for a moment, eyes anxiously diverting between Roger and his wife.

"I think we should take him to the hospital just to be on the safe side." Roger who would normally protest this, was still and quiet....drowsy almost like he was going to flop over any minute from no balance.

Jack scooped Roger in his arms and raced downstairs and into the car, while Alice stayed behind with Susan. Jack broke every speed limit to rush to the hospital, heart beating out of his chest with horror of Roger's simple flu being something much more sinister.

Upon arrival, Jack rushed in with Roger in his arms, feet screeching towards the front desk. "Hello, my son is very sick, he has a very high fever and he's breathing heavily," The callous nurse tried to administer attitude. "Well sir, you're gonna have t-"

"Look ma'am, my son is very sick. He needs medical attention right away, because I do know that a very high fever untreated can take him into shock! Where do I sign?" Jack's voice was authoritative and assertive. His intense aggression mixed ambition on putting the nurse in her place and get Roger help, became his provocative.

Jack signed Roger in and waited for the doctor to see him. People watched as Jack held his 8 year old in his arms tightly. Roger was given a hospital bracelet with his name and birthdate on it. "Roger?" A nurse called, signaling Jack up from his seat, still with Roger in his arms.

A cold shudder ran up Roger's spine as the nervousness of being in the cold sterile hospital kicked in. "It'll be okay baby....I'm right here." Jack gave a soft smile, taking Roger's little hand into his. He rubbed the back of his little boy's restlessly with the facade of being comforting, but Jack was a bundle of nerves. His breathing had gained a slight denseness to it; like an elephant was crushing his chest, making him gasp for air with every passing minute that the doctor took his sweet time in getting into this room.

He'd better not be doodling! Jack's unhinged anxiety was shooting through the roof of the hospital. "Hello, I'm Doctor Mick, what seems to be the trouble today?" Jack blinked. The guy seemed to be so la la land on the whole posture, that Jack started to question this man's competence as a doctor. Maybe it was Jack's overactive paternal instinct, but Jack was in NO mood to be tested with such an animated fool, in a lab coat wearing that anencephalic smile.

"Well, my son has a high fever, he's been throwing up a lot-he has chills, he's been very weak and out of it..like in a dizzy way where he can't catch his balance and he's been breathing hard....I can hear him, sometimes it's hard for him to catch his breath." The doctor nodded, while writing things down on his clipboard.

"Does he have a sore throat?" Jack peeked over to Roger who gave a nod. The doctor hummed in response. "I would like to do a strep test just to be sure," Roger's eyes bulged with fear. He had heard about this and knew it was an uncomfortable experience. "It's okay bubba, daddy's here," Jack sensed his son's fear, "Just focus on me." His voice was soft and reassuring, fatherly at it's best and it secured Roger in a comforting blanket. Like a fuzzy teddy bear who hugged him when he needed it the most.

But that teddy bear was Jack. He gently laid Roger back, held his hands tenderly while rubbing them, and looked into Roger's scared eyes with despotic sympathy. Roger was instructed to open his mouth wide, which allowed the Doctor Mick to twirl the q-tip around the back of his throat for 4 seconds.

Gags and whimpers were followed by Roger, before Jack delivered big bear hugs and kisses all over his face. The doctor showed nerve like the saccharine moment the father and son shared was uncanny or somehow unnatural. Oh, but your dumbed down excuse for a degree and doctoring was so relatable! You just stuck a dry stick down my son's throat, how do you expect me to react?! Jack's temper was flaring high in his thought bubble.

The doctor excused himself into the lab to test for any signs of strep in Roger. Jack continued cuddling the little fellow, murmuring sweet things in his ear. "No more tests daddy," Roger cried. "I know bunny, daddy didn't like it either," He gingerly rubbed his back, tears forming themselves in the back of Jack's throat. His lungs were running on adrenaline; wanting to scream at the top of his lungs to confound and frustrating sickness that had befallen Roger.

He was a normal healthy little boy who was just up and running a week ago. Now he was sick as a dog, and it was still up in the air of if it was just a flu that deemed no reason to over respond, or something more cynical....like meningitis, encephalitis, pneumonia.....the list seemed to be endless in Jack's head. He could almost punch himself for not being protective enough....for allowing Roger to be exposed to such viruses and now suffer from it.

It wasn't his fault no doubt, but it still didn't stop him from feeling like he didn't do enough. His guilt was disturbed by the sudden knock on the door and the doctor following pursuit behind it.

"Test results are back....and Roger does not have strep throat. It came back as the flu. So I'm going to prescribe some medicine to bring down the fever and relieve his symptoms." Jack sighed a sigh a relief. "Thank you," Doctor Mick smiled, "It was my pleasure, Have a nice to the both of you,"

"You too." Jack said taking the prescription, folding it and stuffing it in his pocket so his arms were free to carry Roger. Roger didn't even care he was being carried bridal style out of the hospital. He was so weak, that it was actually a sweet solace from using his achy muscles. "We're going home now, we just need your medicine."

Jack swung by the pharmacy and grabbed the prescribed medication before rushing back home. "How was it?" Alice, clearly worried asked. She was sitting on the couch, combing through Susan's hair with her fingers as a comforting notion to soothe themselves. "It was great, Roger just has the flu and the Doctor gave him some medicine," Jack ruffled Roger's hair.

"Oh that's good. Roger...go upstairs and go rest pumpkin, mommy and daddy will be up to check on you soon." Roger sluggishly up the steps, Jack and Alice carefully watching making sure the boy wouldn't wobble over at the top of the stairs.

Roger laid helplessly in bed, mind racing over the demanding day. To him, this was natures way of reminding him not to milk the loving pampering his parents unconditionally show to him and his sister. "Hey champ," Jack whisper talked in a sweet tone, "How are you feeling?" Roger noticed the spoon and medicine bottle in Jack's hand.

Roger's gut twisted itself. He had known all to well the smell of the nasty remedy that was first handed to Jack at the pharmacy counter. His stomach shuddered at the thought of what it could even taste like. Vile rose from his esophagus as he watched Jack's hand pour the brown liquid on the spoon. "It's time to take your medicine," Jack leveled the spoon to Roger's mouth before shoving it in.

To Roger's surprise, it wasn't as bad as he had thought. "Good boy..." Jack screwed the cap on the bottle before taking a seat on the bed with him. "I know today wasn't fun, but I just want you to know, that you are such a trooper for being so brave and going through all this."

Jack reached his arms out and wrapped Roger in the millionth hug today. "And I love you," He placed a tender kiss on his forehead before tucking him into bed. "Sleep tight puppy." Jack kissed his cheek and turned off the lights before leaving the room.

Roger turned in his bed, more relaxed as his fever was more renounced, his chills had gone away and his nausea had greatly subsided. But most importantly, his heart was flush, once he realized there was no need to hoodwink Jack for his attention, as his parents were always there for him.....

Sick or not.

[sailxrmxrs]

IM JUST SURPRISED NO ONE HAS TAKEN BLOOMING PANICS “oh no my s/o passed out from stress or an illness and now im super worried” HURT/COMFORT TROPES VIRGINITY YET. nightowl would blame onion 😗 LOL

alright bet. have some headcanons about the lis reacting to their s/o who has passed out or gotten ill because of being overworked, exhausted, and stressed. mc isn't too sick but is just clearly tired and has been overdoing it without resting and of course they tried to pretend everything was fine (spoiler alert: it was not fine). so the stress builds up and oh no something's wrong. they're not okay but the lis know how to fix this...right? anyway we'll have a sliver of hurt/comfort but tbh it'll mostly be comfort because angst is not my forté. will add a mild content warning for discussions of poor lifestyle habits ie. sleeping and eating. doesn't get too dark with said topics but they are at the centre of mc's stress for most of these. also toast's got Very Long so uh enjoy the food toast simps. thanks for requesting, anon!

♡ nightowl ♡

College was a struggle for anyone and Nightowl knew the pain of late night deadlines as well as any other student. More than a few times he'd pulled all-nighters so that he could get assignments finished or study for upcoming exams. It wasn't the healthiest routine but he always made sure to get plenty of sleep in at some point throughout the day. Sure, his sleep schedule was a little messed up but he wasn't sleep deprived, by any means. The same, however, could not be said for you. Early morning classes meant that staying in bed an extra hour or two wasn't an option, but those same rapid deadlines were looming overhead and so most nights you would only get a few hours of sleep—certainly not enough to be a fully functioning human and certainly not enough to remain healthy, either. The same poor schedule and assignments led to skipping meals and just generally not maintaining yourself as well as you should be. Nightowl would text frequently, the two of you meeting up whenever you could to take your minds off the stresses of college life. But no matter how much Nightowl checked in with you, there was no telling just how exhausted and stress-ridden you'd gotten.

It wasn't until one evening when you went over to his place, not wanting to cancel your plans despite how tired and lightheaded you were feeling. You'd been up since the early hours of the morning for classes after staying up late to finish studying. The day had rushed by and so you'd only had a few snacks to eat around lunchtime. So not long after greeting Nightowl did you end up passing out right on the floor of his bedroom. Cue a panicked Nightowl stressing about whether or not he should call an ambulance or just trust himself to take care of you. After carefully depositing you on his bed, Nightowl would grab his phone and hurriedly message whoever was online to ask for advice—which only led to Onion berating him for leaving you abandoned while he went on his phone. But Nightowl would toss aside his phone in frustration and focus on grabbing some water for you and trying to wake you up so that he could get some food into you. He doesn't have a whole lot of food lying around that isn't some form of snack but there's a few things lying in his cupboards that would make for a good meal. Anything to stave off the building worry and self-admonishment for not noticing just how badly you were doing.

Later on, once Nightowl feels satisfied that you're doing okay and have been well fed and looked after, Nightowl stays up to take some of the workload off your hands. Obviously he can't do assignments and things for you, but he can help organise your notes or send that one professor an email that really needs answering. Just small menial tasks that don't take long individually but soon start to build up over time. Nightowl's happy to be of help in some way, even if it means putting off his own studying for your sake. When you do wake up for a short moment to see him sat at his desk, Nightowl's insides turn to liquid at the bleary, sleep infested eyes that blink at him under the glow of his fairy lights.

"Come to bed, Nightowl." Your voice is quieter than normal, body still half asleep. But how could he say no to that? So he agrees, guiding your exhausted form back to bed where he lays with you and holds you as tightly as possible. What happened earlier was scarier and has only prompted him to cherish you even more.

♡ quest ♡

Quest is just getting home from work, having texted you to let you know he'd be a little later than usual finishing off some task his boss had asked for him to do. He's looking forward to spending the night together in comfy clothes eating something quick and easy since it's the end of the week and you're both extremely tired. He's noticed the slight changes to your schedule, the way you've been coming to bed later and later after insisting you've got to finish that one job before sleeping. Not to mention the early morning alarms to get up and go off to work. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried, and had broached the topic a couple of times with you; he'd suggested taking a couple days off for an extended weekend trip somewhere or even just asking for a lighter workload on your current project. But each time you'd brushed him off saying that you were fine and this was just a busy time of year. Somehow Quest didn't exactly buy that but respected your boundaries, backing off but quietly encouraging you to come to bed half an hour earlier or staying in bed an extra few minutes in the mornings. He wanted to be there for you as much as he could.

And so when he arrived home to see you sitting on the sofa wrapped in a blanket, eyes rimmed with dark circles, Quest knew it had gone too far. Within an instant he was on his knees in front of you, one hand holding onto yours while the other slid to your forehead to check if you were feverish. His face is marred with concern as he examines the tiredness in your eyes and the guilt that resided there, knowing this was self-inflicted.

"I knew I should have told you to rest more," he sighed, deciding that your current state wasn't too pressing of a matter. All you needed was some good food and a healthy dose of sleep. Long term. Quest was fully prepared to take it upon himself to get you a couple days off work, though you'd already beaten him to it, knowing you needed the rest.

"Sorry for worrying you. It's just been so hectic at work and I felt bad not helping out where I could," you explained as Quest resided in the kitchen, steadfast on preparing a hearty meal to restore some energy before bed.

"I get it, I really do. But you've got to take care of yourself more. Or, at the very least, let me take care of you." Quest was fully immersed in his role of doting boyfriend, determined not to let this happen again. He was too sweet and caring to not accept his willing offer. Maybe you could let loose a little and not take on so much work. Though you were certainly more than happy to indulge in the comforts of Quest's embrace as he held you close against his chest, encouraging you to take a nap once you'd finished eating his homecooked meal. After all, your eyelids were feeling heavy and his chest was such a welcome comfort that it wouldn't hurt to take a quick nap. And maybe that quick nap wouldn't end up being quite so quick and would result in Quest gently moving you to carry you off to bed once it started getting a little late.

♡ xyx ♡

The sun was beating down, doing nothing to help the heat and exhaustion already sinking deep into your bones from the hike you'd been taking with Xyx. It was a frequent occurrence in your relationship to go hiking on the weekends you didn't have anything else planned. But, as a result of lacking sleep throughout the work week, you were left feeling incredibly weak. Not to mention the heated weather had left you dehydrated. Still, you wanted to push through it for Xyx, not wanting to worry him over something you'd deemed wasn't worth fixating on. As long as you could get through this one afternoon, you'd be able to rest and catch up on all the sleep you'd missed throughout the week. Though, as it turned out, your body had other plans and the otherwise enjoyable afternoon was cut short when you collapsed in the path. Xyx was immediately by your side, able to recognise the injury in your ankle caused by the fall as a point of concern.

"Shit, doll. Why didn't you say anything?" His tone was teeming with frustration laced concern as he looked around, hoping to spot someone who could offer a hand. Being so far out of the city other hikers were few and far between, leaving Xyx no choice but to carry you back to his car. He was deadly silent the entire way there, barely even speaking once you were both in the car other than to pass a water bottle over to you and instruct that you drink. Guilt struck you in droves, sensing the worry embedded in the crease of Xyx's brow. You hadn't meant for it to get this bad nor cause him such concern. But there was no undoing the past and so you had to sit with your choices and hope the injury you'd sustained wasn't too serious.

After a trip to the hospital to get your ankle checked out, which turned out to only be a minor sprain, you and Xyx returned home. The official order had been significant rest and care, along with ice to help reduce the slight swelling and redness. Xyx's face was a wall of stone as he listened and thanked the doctor for their time. Even now, after returning home and helping you onto the sofa while Cat meowed for their dinner, his expression had barely altered. Quiet with Xyx was far worse than any shouting or chastising comments. Turning quiet meant that he was stewing in his thoughts, internalising everything rather than speaking his mind. And there was little that concerned you more than Xyx locking away those emotions again.

He exhaled a sigh as he sat down beside you, letting his entire weight fall onto the sofa. His head tilted back and he rested the palm of his hand on his forehead. "Do you know how much you scared me today, love?" His voice was low, a soft sound only heard thanks to the crushing silence hanging between you both.

"I didn't think it was that bad. I never meant to worry you."

"Whether you meant to or not, you still did," Xyx replied, tone sharp. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not mad at you just..."

You ran a hand up his arm, unable to do much more thanks to your current limited mobility. "I know."

"Thought I was the one meant to be getting you to tend to my wounds, not the other way around, doll." A smile crept on Xyx's face, the worry and concern etched into his features slowly fading. Everything would be fine. But it was certainly a lesson for the both of you.

♡ nakedtoaster ♡

Lately your work schedule had been gruelling. Night after night you stayed behind later and later to finish the plethora of tasks that had been left to you. It was only inevitable that somewhere along the way you'd fall ill. But there was not time to take the day off work—there was simply too much to be done. You'd complained about the difficult schedule to Toast, their kind words of encouragement the only thing getting you through the day. Of course he'd suggested just quitting your job but despite the difficult schedule it sometimes handed your way, you did like working there. Just not when you were being overworked to the point of agonising exhaustion. And so, when you felt the signs of illness coming on, you just pressed yourself further in the hopes of getting ahead of schedule so that you might be able to afford time off. Toast had warned you this was a terrible idea and, frankly, you knew this too. But what else could you do in such a scenario? Either miss deadlines and risk getting fired or do the work and hope for the best. The weekend was almost here, after all, so you could rest plenty then.

When Toast arrived home one evening to seeing your shoes beside the door signalling an early arrival home, he knew something was wrong. If you'd managed to get away from work this early you'd have texted or called in celebration. So that meant only one thing: you were even more ill and had been sent home to rest. Sure enough, when he entered your shared bedroom, Toast was met with the sight of you in bed. You were wearing an old shirt of his and had a cup of water along with some medicine sitting on the bedside table. Judging by the flush in your cheeks, Toast could tell you were likely feverish too.

"Someone's been working too hard, haven't they?" He teased when you smiled weakly at him, eyes adjusting to the light after a short nap. "Work send you home?"

"Yeah. Apparently almost passing out at work because you were burning up isn't a good sign," you replied, burrowing under the covers with the plush toy Toast had bought you on one of your first dates.

"Anything to get you to rest, I suppose. How are you feeling?" He brushed a gentle hand against your cheek, pleased that your skin didn't feel too feverish.

"I'm doing okay. I think I slept most of it off at this point."

"Hungry?" They asked, taking hold of the glass on your bedside table so that they could refill it with some fresh water. You nodded in reply, feeling your eyelids growing heavy. "You take another nap and I'll come wake you up when it's ready, okay?" Toast didn't bother to wait for a reply, knowing you were ready to fall back asleep. He was glad to see you able to rest without worrying or panicking over some menial task you'd been assigned by your boss. But now, there was a slightly more pressing matter at hand—dinner. They couldn't just order something in while you were sick. This needed to be a homecooked meal. Only problem being, that Toast could not cook much more than literal toast. So, he called up the first person who came to mind—Quest.

"Okay, Quest don't make fun of me but can you please teach me how to make some chicken soup or something. Nothing crazy just give me ingredients and a step-by-step or something."

Not too long later, you awoke to the smell of food coming from the hallway. Whatever was being made had you suddenly very aware of just how hungry you were. As you reached the kitchen door, you could hear Toast's frantic words as they rushed about the kitchen. A second voice was slightly muffled, as though playing through a speaker.

"Look I'm sure it's turned out fine and they'll love it," a voice that resonated in your ears as Quest's sounded from the room.

"But what if this makes it worse? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made my already sick partner even more sick?" Toast had their hands on the kitchen counter, either side of his phone with his head down so you couldn't see his face.

"Did you do all this for me?" You asked, eyeing up the food on the stove that looked and smelled delicious. Whatever instructions Quest had given them clearly worked. "You're so sweet." You threw your arms around Toast as you burrowed your face into their back, hearing Quest say quick goodbyes before leaving the call.

"Um. I wanted you to have something special made since you were sick so I called Quest for help and I don't know how good it'll be but—"

"It looks amazing. Now stop worrying so we can eat."

[suddencolds]

Untrustworthy | Genshin Impact

This is a 3k word commission for anon! (I admittedly wrote over the commissioned word count).

Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your kind message 😭This fic was surprisingly very challenging to write, so I’m sorry for the wait; I hope you enjoy! 

Requested prompt: 

I want Diluc completely miserable with a cold. As much mess as you're ok with. Still trying to function. Until Kaeya can't stand watching anymore and inserts himself as caregiver.

—

It’s subtle at first. Diluc turns away from making a drink to cough tightly into an elbow. Diluc’s gaze pulls uneven as he ducks forward with a barely stifled sneeze into a handkerchief he’s been keeping in his coat pocket. Diluc—when he thinks no one is watching—leans a bit too heavily against the countertop, bracing himself with one arm, and lifts the other hand to massage his temples. as if he’s attempting to drive away a headache that he’s had all afternoon.

It would be unnoticeable, except Kaeya pays more attention than people give him credit for. It would be unnoticeable, except Kaeya is aware that a cold has been making its rounds through the Knights, many of which frequent the tavern—one severe enough to prompt Jean to actually take a sick day, for once, one that seems especially severe this winter and—judging by the absences in his ranks this last week—difficult to avoid.

Diluc doesn’t fall ill often, Kaeya knows. Even now he barely looks unwell, save for the faint flush of his cheeks, the exhaustion disrupting his usually-perfect posture, the sneezes that he keeps stifling into almost-silence.

Either he’s at the start of his cold—before it’s had a chance to get really bad—or he’s putting in an inordinate amount of effort to hide it.

Kaeya suspects it might be both.

“Master Diluc,” he says, when Diluc conveniently stops by one of the tables next to him with drinks. “When does your shift end?���

Diluc’s shoulders stiffen, though he doesn’t turn around to address Kaeya properly. “Three hours from now.” he says, frowning. “if you intend to involve me in one of your late-night arrangements…”

“Oh? Not this time,“ Kaeya says. He lifts his wine to take a sip. “Even if I were, I think perhaps I would have reconsidered.”

“And why is that?”

Diluc says it flatly—unaffectedly—but he only has the luxury of keeping up that act for a few seconds before he’s ducking into his shoulder with a perfectly silenced stifle. It’s such a seamless performance, neatly contained and expertly quiet—really, Kaeya deems himself unworthy.

“Bless you,” he says, though Diluc scoffs, swipes the empty glasses from the table he’s serving, and starts off toward his usual spot behind the counter. “I do hope you are not falling ill, master Diluc.”

Diluc sets the glasses down on the countertop, diligently averting his glance. “I’m fine.”

“Is that so?” At Diluc’s silence, he presses on. “Perhaps you should close up early, just in case. You look like you could use some rest.”

“No need,” Diluc says. “It’s just— “Hiih… hiIIH-nGK-t! Hiih… HIiIH…-!!.... hiIIh-GKt!” The sneezes snap him forward, his shoulders trembling with the motion. He straightens with an almost imperceptible shiver. “—just dust, snf. Perhaps the Knights would be more efficient if you put more time into work instead of investigating less…” Diluc looks to him at last, his jaw tightly set. “...pressing matters.”

“Ah.” Kaeya laughs. “So eager to get rid of me?”

“Your concern is unnecessary. I already intend to close up earlier than usual.”

That’s surprising, to say the least—Diluc usually never cancels plans to suit himself. “So you really aren’t feeling well,” Kaeya says, suddenly worried. If it’s so bad that even Diluc is closing up early...

He must not be doing a good job keeping the concern off his face, because Diluc just scoffs dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not that.” He coughs softly into his raised elbow. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Hmm, to think you said no late night excursions...”

“There’s a banquet tomorrow that I’m expected to attend.”

And yet he won't be closing up for another few hours. And yet he’s here, with the start of a cold, looking exhausted and unwell, and still—for reasons Kaeya can’t fathom—he intends to work late into the night and then spend the entire day tomorrow at some pretentious social event. Kaeya knows that having to entertain strangers is exhausting to Diluc even on regular occasions. He also knows that whatever Diluc is coming down with is unlikely to resolve itself in just a night’s rest.

“For the winery?” he asks. “My, such impressive dedication to the business… surely you can send Elzer on your behalf?”

Diluc’s shoulders tense in a way that suggests that he is as reluctant about attending as Kaeya expected. “I can’t. The host requested my presence.”

“At the very least,” Kaeya says, “You should close up a bit earlier.” He glances over his shoulder to peer through the first floor windows. It’s dark outside—too dark to come to any conclusions, but earlier today, the sky had been too heavy, the air prickling with humidity, the clouds overhead sprawling and dark. “It wouldn’t do you any good to get caught up in the rain.”

“The rain is of no consequence to me,” Diluc says, in the kind of tone that suggests that he doesn’t intend to close up early at all.

“Even with a cold?” “I don’t have a cold.”

Kaeya shrugs.  “Well, if you’re certain.” He pushes his mug forward so that it rests on the countertop, right within Diluc’s reach, and counts the mora out beside it. “Goodnight, Diluc.”

He turns on his heels. Years ago, he might’ve stayed longer. He might’ve insisted for Diluc to take care of himself and not left his side until he had.

But it’s been years. Diluc left, and Kaeya tried to muster up the pieces of himself that had existed independent of him—he’d taught himself how to lie, tricked himself into believing that the person he’d trusted most hadn’t left him—and now even though Diluc is back, sometimes it feels as if Kaeya barely knows him at all.

If Diluc won’t take care of himself, then that’s his prerogative. It’s stopped being Kaeya’s problem a long time ago.

—

Kaeya has every intention of leaving Diluc alone.

That is, until he’s at the Knights’ headquarters, listening in on a conversation that he doesn’t quite mean to eavesdrop on but hasn’t gone out of his way not to avoid.

“He keeps taking our work,” one of the Knights says. “It’s awful. Last time we spent all our time finding this one domain—Fatui territory, alright? We had a whole expedition team ready to scout out the domain the next day. Then the next day, we get there and the place is abandoned. Everything’s been scorched. Must’ve been a pyro user.” “How do you know it was him?”

“Trust me, you’d know. How many pyro visions are there in Teyvat? It’s like the legends say. He doesn’t leave any room unturned. He’s more thorough than a team of our men put together.”

“Gentlemen,” Kaeya says loudly, smiling when they startle and turn to look at him in synchronicity. “What are you talking about?”

“The Darknight Hero,” one of the knights offers haltingly. “Last night he took down one of the Fatui strongholds we were planning to deal with. Talk about an annoyance, huh?”

“Oh? How heroic. It seems he lives up to his title,” Kaeya says. His mind is reeling. Diluc? But last night, Diluc had been working late. He’d gone home right after, hadn’t he? It wouldn’t make sense for him to be out last night. Unless, of course...

He would really, really like to believe that Diluc’s self-preservation instincts are better than that.

“I’ve been saying,” says another knight. “We were supposed to be scouting out the area right now. Chances are, there will be nothing left there that’s of any use to us.”

“Seeing as we have nothing to do today,” the first knight says, his expression hardening, “maybe we can conduct a search party for the Darknight Hero instead. See what he has to say about withholding information from the Knights.”

“Let’s not be too hasty here,” Kaeya cuts in, before the other Knights have a chance to offer their assent. “It’s unlikely that the Darknight Hero would be out during the day, isn’t it? Rest assured, I’ll make sure that it’s looked into. In the meantime, have you asked the Acting Grandmaster for a new assignment?”

The knight in question falters. “No, but…”

Kaeya smiles pointedly at him—the kind of vicious smile that, around knights and strangers alike, never fails to intimidate. “Then perhaps you should get to it, don’t you think?”

He waits until he’s sure they’ll be busy with something else. Maybe they’re mistaken. Maybe Diluc had gone to scout out the area on some previous occasion, and the Knights are only now paying witness to his usual efficiency.

Or maybe Diluc has forgone a night of rest in lieu of playing hero to Mondstadt in the pouring rain. And now he’s at a banquet somewhere, with a miserable cold that he’s most likely intent on telling himself he doesn’t have.

It’s been awhile since Kaeya’s been to a banquet. He misses the alcohol, the music, the extravagant decorations. It’s easy enough to tell himself that that’s the reason why he’s going.

—

It’s not difficult to get in. Kaeya is well-acquainted with having to sweet talk his way into lowering someone’s defenses.

Inside the banquet hall, it’s crowded. It is as pretentious a setup as it gets—visitors wearing suits and ballroom gowns, walls adorned with streamers and gold plaques, tables laid out with refreshments of all sorts. The building it’s being held in has at least two floors and too many side rooms to count.

He spots Diluc from across the room—red hair is rare enough that he’s not easy to miss. Diluc is currently engaging in conversation with someone Kaeya hasn’t seen before.

It’s likely that Diluc has found the person who explicitly requested his presence—probably someone with a business deal that he thinks warrants a personal talk with the owner of Dawn Winery. If Kaeya interrupts Diluc while he’s negotiating some sort of once-in-a-lifetime deal, Diluc will never let him live it down. So instead, he grabs a drink as an excuse to get closer and stands a few tables away to listen in.

Up close, Diluc’s cold is practically impossible to miss. His clothes look freshly ironed, but his hair is still damp at the tips—he’s changed into dry clothes, then, but his wet hair seems to only confirm the hypothesis that he was, in fact, scouting out domains last night in the rain instead of getting a wink of sleep. Diluc has always been pale, but now there’s a flush high on his cheeks that Kaeya thinks could only be a result of an impending fever. He is standing with his arms crossed—a last attempt to keep warm, perhaps—with a handkerchief gripped loosely in one hand. Faint shivers break the line of his shoulders.

Kaeya feels a pang in his chest. Diluc looks…

Kaeya watches as Diluc twists away with a soft apology and a wrenching sneeze that snaps him forward at the waist.

...miserable.

“That was merely my expectation,” the man says. “Crepus and I were business partners, do you know that? You don’t seem like the type of person who would choose this profession. I am sure your priorities lie elsewhere.”

Diluc clears his throat. “I have no qualms against upholding the family business.” His voice—though usually smooth and mellifluous—has taken on a rough edge to it, as if from overuse.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise,” the man says. “I am sure you’re aware of your options, no? You could make a fortune selling off the winery if you so desired.”

“If you are...” Diluc starts, though his sentence is punctuated by a soft, desperate gasp, and he turns away just in time, ducking into his handkerchief. “hiIh…. Hiih… hiih’GKt—CHhiiew! Snf-!” His eyes stay shut in anticipation, the grip tightening around the handkerchief as his shoulders jerk with another sharp intake of breath.  “Hiih… Hiiih… Iiih’DZsshh-iu! haAHH’iIKTch-iIIew!” he sniffles wetly, barely suppressing a violent shiver.

“If you are here to gauge whether or not I intend to sell the winery, I can assure you that I do not,” he says, quieter than usual.

“Ah, of course, just a question.” The man leans forward, lowers his voice. “Truthfully, I am more interested in a partnership. It’s come to my attention that you have an excess of wine sitting in the winery’s cellars. If you can get me the amount of Dandelion Wine I need at a discounted price, I can sell it down in Liyue for a profit.”

“I have no interest in expanding the business any further,” Diluc says. “The excess will sell out easily in the spring when demand rises for Windblume.”

“I urge you to give it some consideration. Dandelion Wine is a specialty to Mondstadt. Think about the profitability of expanding to somewhere where dandelions are hard to come by,“ the man says. “You could stand to double or even triple the prices per bottle. I am only asking to take a fraction of your stock, see? Ten percent would be enough.”

He says it as if ten percent isn’t anything substantial, but Kaeya can’t help but think that there’s something wrong here—both with the presentation of the offer and with its suddenness. From here, Diluc’s expression is unreadable—it betrays only slight discomfort when he turns to the side, muffling harsh, forceful coughs into his suit sleeve, and murmurs a reflexive apology. No hesitation—not the slightest hint of wariness—even though the Diluc Kaeya remembers wouldn’t agree to raising prices so drastically without good reason.

“I can handle all transportation and deliver the profits to you in a few months,” the man presses on, interpreting Diluc’s untelling silence as interest. “My associates have done research on the market in Liyue and where it would be best to sell. You wouldn’t have to do anything differently from your end. All that I ask is for you to trust me with the first shipment and compensate me fairly after I handle the marketing and transportation.”

Diluc sniffles. “Forgive me,” he says, bracing himself with one hand against the table behind him as he ducks forward violently into a raised arm.  “hiIh’nGKT-chhiEW! HIih… I do n-not… hhH… Hiih-! hiIH’iiikT-CHhiew! Sdf-! Ugh… hiIIH’NGKT-CHhiew!” He leans slightly into his side, and though the gesture is well-disguised, Kaeya can tell just how much he’s bracing his weight on the table. It’s concerning, to say the least. Is he really too tired to stand upright? “...I do not expect to give out so much wine without a proper assessment of the risk. If you believe the model to be profitable, you are free to… t-to… hh-! to purchase…. hiIH… haAA’iiKTT-CHh!-u! hiIh’iiiTSSHhh’uh! snf-!” The congestion in his voice is evident in all of his consonants, and his gaze flickers down to his handkerchief in unspoken desperation, though Kaeya suspects he’s too polite to blow his nose in front of a business partner.

“...You are free to purchase wine at the same rate as I offer other corporate partners. I cannot - coughcough - I cannot offer such a large first-time shipment for free based on only an assumption that it will be successful.”

Kaeya can see the exact moment the smugness drops off of the man’s face. His eyes harden at Diluc’s hesitation, his practiced smile shifting into the approximation of a sneer.

“An assumption? You don’t trust my ability to see the operation through to the end?” He says, still in the same polite, haughty tone of his. “As a long-time associate of your father, I would have thought I would have earned your trust as well. Unless, of course, you simply don’t agree with Crepus’s assessments?”

Kaeya can see the way Diluc’s jaw tightens at the query. He clears his throat softly, though the brief wince that follows suggests that the action is far from painless.  

“His vision for the company is - snf - very important to me,” he says simply.

The man waves a flippant hand. “Or perhaps once he left, you decided you knew better? I mean, you have grown up so much, so I’m sure you feel more than capable of handling his affairs, regardless of whether or not you’re doing it his way. I don’t blame you.”

As the man turns around to pour himself a drink, Kaeya sees a flash of blue and gold tucked into his suit pocket. It takes him another moment to realize what it is.

A Fatui sergeant’s insignia—for identification purposes, or just a habit, likely.

This man isn’t a business partner of Crepus’s at all.

Now, the man wheels around, holding one drink in each hand. Alcohol, clearly—though it sparkles, faintly red. “Ah, well. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but your decisions are understandable. A friend of mine has been working on a drink that mixes certain Liyuen specialties and Dandelion Wine—would you give it a try?”

“I don’t drink,” Diluc says haltingly.

“Just a sip wouldn’t hurt,” the man says, raising an eyebrow. “If you are anything like Crepus, you must have developed quite the refined taste when it comes to wine. Perhaps you could speak for the quality?”

“I’m sorry,” Diluc says quietly. “I am… Hiih… f-feeling… hH…. hiIih’iIKT-chHIew! Sdf!... slightly under the weather.” Kaeya blinks at him, disbelieving. Such an outright admission is practically unheard of, when it comes to Diluc—but then again, it’s a convenient excuse, and Kaeya is not under the impression that he really knows him. Diluc lifts a hand to his face, sniffling hard. “I’m afraid I would not be able to taste it.”

“You state the obvious,” the man drawls, and Diluc’s shoulders hunch slightly as he turns his face away, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons why I recommended this drink. It’s made with Jueyun chilis. Should be good for clearing up a cold.”

“Is that so?” Diluc says, still frowning.

“Perhaps you could speak to its efficacy?”

Slowly—hesitantly—Diluc lifts the glass. The man watches him like a hawk—too eagerly, if anything. Kaeya presumes that he either wants Diluc poisoned or too intoxicated not to be swayed, and hauling home a Diluc who can’t hold his own sounds like more than he’s signed up for, so now would be a good time to interfere. Diluc can be mad at him later.

Kaeya, for all he’s attempted over the years, has plenty of practice making his entrances as obnoxiously showy as possible.

“My, my,” he says, striding in with a drink in hand to settle right next to Diluc. “The esteemed owner of the Dawn Winery.” Just for the way Diluc grimaces at the title, his eyebrows furrowing, he decides this intervention has been worth it. “And… who’s this?”

Diluc veers away from Kaeya to stifle—a soft, near-silent stifle that must be exhausting to suppress.

“A business partner,” the man answers through gritted teeth.

“Must be a busy job,” Kaeya says, snatching Diluc’s drink out of his hand and setting it down on the table behind him. “Given, of course, that you have two.” He takes an efficient step forward and swipes the insignia out of the so-called business partner’s pocket.

“I do wonder why the Fatui would be so interested in the Dawn Winery,” he says calmly, ignoring the man’s indignant yelp of protest. He turns the insignia over in his hands, contemplative. “Did you really think the owner of the largest wine business in Mondstadt would be so easy to scam?”

The sergeant swears. “You asshole—!”

Kaeya reaches for the sword tucked into his belt. He knows it wouldn’t be a fair fight, seeing that the man seems very much unarmed, but it’s as good as anything as a threat. “I don’t suppose you’ll try this again?” he says. “I can’t claim to be the best swordsman in Mondstadt—that title goes to the previous cavalry captain, but maybe tonight I can come in second.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh? Do you want to find out if I am?”

“No,” the agent says. “I wasn’t finished having my conversation.”

“Well, what a shame.” Kaeya doesn’t wait for him to think of a response. He takes Diluc’s arm and turns abruptly to haul Diluc towards the exit.

Diluc goes along easily enough. It’s only when they get outside that the frustration—from watching Diluc push himself, stubbornly, to this extent—boils over.

“Diluc,” he says, turning on his heels. “Really? After a late night shift at the tavern, your first thought was to forgo rest to spend all night scouting out a Fatui domain? In the rain, for that matter?”

Diluc turns away, his expression unchanging. “That’s not worth mentioning.”

“Perhaps you’d claim that attending a banquet directly afterwards is not worth mentioning, either? Your hair’s still wet. And that encounter with the Fatui sergeant—what’s gotten into you? Since when have you been so careless?”

He’s almost certain Diluc can hear the unspoken accusation behind it. This isn’t like you. Diluc is hasty—he has a tendency to overestimate himself and involve himself in situations he knows will be dangerous—but he isn’t careless.

“—I knew he wasn’t one of Crepus’s associates.” Diluc explains, with a soft, liquid sniffle. He turns away, lifting an arm to his face. “I would’ve - hhihH-!! - snf, I would’ve recognized him if he were, sdf.” his eyes drift shut; he buries his face into his suit sleeve, sniffling. “Crepus made it a point to… hiIh…-! hIIIh… to introduce him to everyone he - HIiIIih… sdf-!! ...Everyone he worked closely with.”

“Is that so?” Kaeya says, but it’s not enough. “Then why did you entertain him?”

Diluc is quiet for a moment. When Kaeya looks over, it’s to a dazed, bleary expression before he ducks harshly into his raised elbow with a forceful, “hiIh’nNGKT-chHIEw! hiIH’IITCHh-chhUU!! Snf-!”

He doesn’t lift his elbow from his face. “I w-wanted… snf-! more -  hiIh-!...information,” he says. “If I were to know more about what he was planning, it would make it easier for me to find any fraudulent - hiIih-!! Snf-! - transactions in the company’s history if I knew what to - hIih-hiIh’iIKTch-IIiu! Excuse me… snf-! -to look for.”

“Bless you. There are better ways to do that,” Kaeya says. “No need to do it when you’re evidently unwell.”

Diluc peeks out from behind his arm, which he still hasn’t lowered from his face. His face is flushed up to his ears—easy enough to dismiss as fever, though Kaeya knows that’s not all there is to it.

Diluc has always been embarrassed about admitting weakness. Kaeya sighs, fishes through his own pockets for a spare handkerchief.

“I have to say, Diluc,” he says, holding out the handkerchief — which Diluc accepts hurriedly, turning away to clean up whatever mess he’s made of his sleeve - “My weekends would be much less eventful -”

“hiiihh’GKTTt-CHh’yyew! snf-!”

“- if I could trust you to look after yourself,” Kaeya finishes, raising an eyebrow. “Bless you, by the way.”

“I know my limits,” Diluc says.

Kaeya huffs a sigh. “But you don’t honor them, do you?”

Diluc frowns, looking away. “I would have been fine if you hadn’t showed up.”

Kaeya stares at him. It’s half in disbelief, half in exasperation—but Diluc has always been like this, hasn’t he? Insistent on his own self-sufficiency. Hesitant to admit he might, in any way, be infallible.

I would’ve been fine.

“You always are,” he says finally, with a smile that he doesn’t mean.

If Diluc so diligently insists on refusing his help, perhaps Kaeya should take a hint. Mondstadt is a half hour away—less, if he hurries. He quickens his pace. It’s fortunate, he thinks, that the rain stopped early this morning, after—

Diluc grabs his arm.

Kaeya wheels around, suddenly worried that Diluc might be feeling much worse than he’d let on, but Diluc’s expression betrays nothing as he lowers his hand to his side.

“Thank you,” he says—a soft, private admission.

Kaeya clears his throat, waves a dismissive hand. “I assure you, I have plenty more handkerchiefs.”

“No,” Diluc says quietly, looking away. “Not just for that.”

[thcweasley]

Yours

PAIRING : George Weasley X Y/N

SUMMARY : George getting jealous of his twin brother for being closer to you .

WARNINGS : none? Make out? implying things? hehe

WORDS : 1.7k

A/N: lol this hits too close to home, growing up i was shadowed by heather sister :(  I was going to turn this into smut but im not sure.. cos i never wrote a smut before lol.

“Focus on your work Weasley” Snape smacked George Weasley’s head with the book he was holding, causing the whole class to look at his direction.

George was already an easily distracted person to begin with. but today especially, he got his mind somewhere else.

He was looking at you and his twin brother Fred, giggling while trying to figure out snape’s task. All of his life he never thought that he would feel this much jealously towards the older twin. Sure, sometimes it bothers him a bit that people pay more attention to him, or the fact that people always refers them as “Fred & George”, not “George & Fred”. But he knew it’s a silly thing to be bothered about so he always managed to brush it off.

But not today, Fred had been assigned with you. The girl George met on his last solo trip to honeydukes. It shocked him how he never saw you around before, despite being in the same house and grade. But hes glad that he met you. George didn’t like to be cheesy, but he was so sure that you were made for him. Whenever youre around, he just felt so happy. You’re funny, kind, and on top of all you’re prettiest thing he ever seen. Sadly, for him, other people seems to think that way about you.

He introduced you 2 weeks ago to his brother and friends. You seem to get along great with everyone. He liked that, his brother and friends is everything for him. But he cant help it but feeling a little bit jealous. He didn’t wanna admit it but this jealously is most probably because he was insecure about his feeling for you. Before everything he was sure that you fancy him the same way he fancies you. But now, hes not sure. And he hated it, youre supposed to be his girl.

The class that felt so long was finally over. George quickly stood up, walking towards the common room. he just want to burry his face onto his bed now. He felt an arm linking his. “Hey you” it was you. He let out a big sigh, not knowing how to feel right now.

“Hey, did you have a good time today?” He hated how catty he sounded. Knowing you, he knew you wouldn’t able to tell.

“Yeah it was fun. Your brother is hilarious you know that?” He rolled his eyes, feeling his face getting hot.

“Well yeah hes a clown” George answered shortly. Wanting you both could just drop this conversation. He didn’t like this, being jealous of his twin brother.

“ahah yeah true, youre also funny too you know” You leaned your head onto Georges arm. At this point it was hard for him to not just pulls you into a big hug. “Whats your plan for the rest of the day?” You asked looking up on him.

“Im not sure, probably just sleep” George answered looking down to you. You looked so cute leaning on to him.

“Wanna have a study date? Snape’s test tomorrow right?” George’s ears perked up at the word date.

A smile creeps on his face. “Yeah sure”

“Brilliant! I’ll see you in 2 hours then!” You gave his arm a squeeze before you go. Leaving George all smiley by himself.

2 hours later, George found himself getting ready for his study date. He finally going to make a move on you. Its obvious that you fancy him now right? At least you were the one who refers their study session as a study date.

He tried to look around for Fred but he was nowhere to be found. He feels weird do anything without asking for the older brother’s advice. But it was time to go to meet you at the Library and he didn’t want to make you wait, so he just decided to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

“Hey” George greeted you, big smile on his face. You look up at him from the book you were reading, smiling back at him. “You got a lot of stuff here” He sat down beside you, looking at paper and pens in front of him.

“Oh its not mine” You answered. “So, do you have anything you’re particularly struggling with?”

Whilst you tried your best to explain the things that he was struggling with. George was doing his best to stay focus on what youre saying instead of you. He cant help but admire your face, your cheeks, your lips. He wonders how would it feel like you press his lips against yours.

“Are you listening to me George?” You asked, knowing the answer pretty well.

“Uh yeah, im sorry I got distracted” he blinked.

You brought your hand on to his head, messing with his red hair. “you’ve been a bit distracted these days. didn’t you got smacked on your head earlier today by Snape?” you chuckled a bit running your fingers on the back of his head. “Did it hurt?” You tilted her head closer to him, rubbing the back of his head.

He couldn’t seem to think straight at this point. The fact that youre so close to him right now, he could smell your scent. He took a deep breath trying to be brave and make a move. He put his hand on top of yours, pulling it away from his head. “Y/N..” He started, linking his fingers with yours. “I think I like you”

“Yeah?” You chuckled feeling. your cheeks starting to get warm. “Whats going on George? Why are you suddenly so serious?”

“Well, Im not sure how you feel about me. But I got nothing to lose so here I am. I like you” Surprised by his words, you didn’t say anything. So he thought he could just make a move then. He leaned in closer to you getting you lips closer to each other. Not knowing what to do you just close your eyes. He smiled, taking this as a greenlight to proceed his act. Until all of the sudden-

“Your tea is here!!” Fred walked in, causing them to pull away from each other. “Hey that’s my seat George, do you not see the stuffs on the table?” He said as he sat down filling the gap between You and George.

“Fred what are you doing here?” George asked, clearly  frustrated with the situation.

“That’s not how you greet people, my dear brother” He said handing you the tea he was talking about. “Besides, youre not the only one who got invited to this study group. Right Y/N?” You just nod at him feeling flustered, thinking about what could’ve happened if Fred didn’t just walk in.

The next day, George has been avoiding you since last night. He thought you guys shared the same feeling. But yesterday proved him wrong. He was just another friend to you

Snape’s exam was a group work, being Fred’s partner obviously made you work with him for the exam. You looked so happy, George wishes it was him working with you instead of his twin brother. He hated this so much, it’s ridiculous how jealous he felt towards his twin brother right now.

The exam’s finally over, George saw you coming up to him from the corner of his eyes. “Hey” you greeted him. “Wanna go to Three Broomstick later? I haven’t really seen you all week”

“Who’s coming?” He asked, hoping this time its just the two of you. And everything that he thought about last night wasn’t true.

“Uh everyone. Fred, Lee, Angelina and others im not sure” George snickered. How stupid of him to think that you wanna be alone with him. How stupid of him to think he got a chance with you.

“I think im gonna pass on that” he took a deep breath. “Im tired. Ill see you around” He left you dumb folded, walking away towards his room.

The night comes around. The common room feels empty, his friends had left him for Three Broomstick. George just chilling alone on his bed when he heard someone opened the door.

“George?” You walked towards him, sitting at the end of his bed “Hey, im just.. I just wanna make sure everything is okay”

“Why you here” George answered bitterly. “Arent you suppose to be out with your friends, with my brother?”

“Well yeah but I wanna check up on you. And talk about last night..”

“What do you wanna talk about Y/N?” He took a deep breath. “I already get it, you see me as a friend. If anything, you like Fred more than me. I get it don’t worry. Everyone always picks him over me, im used to it”

“George…” you scotched in closer too him, trying to stop him from rambling all these nonsenses.

“Im not even sure why I thought you like me, he is the better twin. Im just me. I just thought I have a chance with you. Throughout my life, ive always get hands down from my siblings, share with my siblings.” He realised how ridiculous he sounded but it didn’t stop him. “I love how you get along with my friends. But, i just thought, I thought youre my person. Finally someone I can proudly say mine. I thought you feel the same way as I do…” Georges voice was getting quitter when he felt your hand grabbing his. “I like you a lot and I get that you don’t feel the same way. So if youre coming here to explain that i-“

His words were cut off by your lips crashing to his. “You never let me speak Georgie”  You murmured against his lips “I don’t know how you got it all wrong” you kissed his cheek lightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. George. I like you, im your person. Ive always been“

With a big smile he pulled in for another kiss. He held on to your waist pulling you closer to him, positioning you onto his lap. You threw your and around his neck, deepening the kiss whilst his hands lazily griped your waist.

You can feel something poking between the inner part of your legs. With a slight smile you press your legs more on to him, grinding it against him. Earning a low groan from him.

He held your hips down on him, so both of you can feel more of the friction. His lips travelled to your jaw and to the back of your neck. You could feel his hot breath, sending shivers down your spine as he moved his lips closer to your ears. “Prove it” OKAY SO Let me know if you want a part 2 smut off of this HAHAH.

hehe part 2

this was quite hard to write cos i feel bad for him ahaha. this is loosely based on a true story. but i never got my Y/N :’)

MY OTHER WORKS follow me / send request / talk to me! im lonely (if u send me anonymously maybe click here) my collaborative ford anglia playlist Christmas with the Weasley playlist

[sslytheringhufflepufff]

Ride Me (Draco x Plus size reader Smut)

Summary:Draco wants you to ride him but you're too scared. 

Warning:Smut, Insecurities, curse words, some fluff

1.6k words

“Yes Draco" you moaned as you laid on Draco's bed as he dry humped you. You guys only had a couple of minutes left to go to class and Draco had the bright idea to come to his room “I love when you moan my name like that” he said as he played with your boobs over your clothes, he nibbled on you hear then whispering “I want you to ride me until you scream my name” with that he brought you back to reality and you pushed him off “uhm what time is it, I have to go grab my stuff for class I'll see you later, love you” with that you left him more confused than ever “okay...love you?”. You ran to your room “Fuck” you said as you closed the door “I can't fucking ride him ill crush him” you said as you looked into the mirror, you weren't thin you had big thighs and a belly “I can literally crush his head if he went down on me fuck”  you said sighing, you didn’t know why Draco liked you, there's thin girls out there who can ride him without a problem, someone who can fulfill his fantasies” you said as you laid on your bed rubbing your eyes as you felt them tear up “I should get to class” you grabbed your stuff and headed out. When you got there you sat down in you assigned seats, Draco walking in a little while later sitting next to you “Are you okay babe? You left so suddenly” he said placing his hand on your thigh, you move to the side causing Draco's hand to fall, his hands look so small on your thigh that it made you feel insecure. Draco looking at you confused “Did I do something wrong?” “No, don’t worry about it” you said as you gave him a small smile and started reading the spell book, Draco still looking at you.

After class you hurriedly got up before Draco could say anything and left the room “Y/n” Draco screamed after you and you ignored him going into your common room and sliding into your room. You felt bad about Draco but you also didn’t know how to tell him, you didn’t know how to tell your boyfriend that you're too big for him and that you'll crush him. You changed into some pjs deciding not to go to the Great hall and staying in your room instead, you didn’t want to deal with Draco for the day. You sat on your bed thinking about your life when the train of thought was interrupted with a small knock on the door, you got up “Who is it?” “It's me” you froze “fuck” you said under your breath “Draco I'm not proper, maybe come back tomorrow?”  “Babe I've seen you with my dick down your throat, do you think I care if you don’t look proper?” he said which made you giggle and opened the door “hi” you said shyly “Hey, can we talk?” he said looking at you serious “um sure come in” he came in and you sat down on your bed while he stood looking out the window “What happened today? I'm so lost, one moment we were making out and the next you rushed out! You didn’t even talk to me in class not even a look and when we got out you completely ignored me” he said while looking at you with a worried look “Did I do something wrong? Did I touch you somewhere wrong?” he said panic starting to settle in his voice “No Draco stop, it wasn’t you, it's me...” you trailed off “I don’t know why you like me Draco” Looking up at him “I’m not thin, you can have any girl, any thin girl” you said “But I don’t want any girl” he said, you scoffed “And why is that Draco I could literally crush you if I even tried to ride you” then It clicked in him “Is that what this is about?” he said his voice growing “You're ignoring me because you think you can’t ride me?” he scoffed “Yes Draco, have you fucking seen me? I'm double your size bloody hell; I could crush your head if you went down on me.” you said standing up “Can you please leave” you said as you felt tears welling on your eyes “No, I'm not fucking leaving, Y/n. “he said as he got closer to you “You fucking think that I can't handle you? Are you fucking kidding me right know?” he said angrier “And you think you could crush my head if I go down on you, I would fucking want to see you try” he said making you wet every second he stood closer, he rarely got mad around you but when he did it turned you on “Draco...” you said as he got closer, you could feel the warmth of his body, his cologne intoxicating you “As I said before, I want you to ride me until you scream my name” with that he crushed his lips onto yours his hand roaming your body, he broke the kiss and casted a spell “No one can come in or hears us” he said and resuming the kiss “Lay down” he said as he broke the kiss once again tugging his tie taking it off, you laid down waiting for him to tell you want else to do, you loved when he got like this, I made you feel so turned on “Now now Princess, let's see if you really can crush my head, I mean I wouldn't mind dying like that, it would pe a privilege” he said as he started kissing you again tugging on your pajama shorts revealing your underwear, since you didn’t think about seeing Draco tonight you wore some pink flowery underwear “Ilike these” he said “But their better on the floor” he said as he slowly took them off a small moan leaving you lips “ My my princess, you're so wet, all this just for me”   he said as he spread open your legs revealing your wet core, he blew on it “Draco oh my god” you said and Draco smiled “I like when you moan my name it sounds angelic” he said with that shoving his face into your core, savoring every spot then getting to your clit sucking it a little bit, you moaned an threw your hear back. Draco continued to eat you as if he's never had any food consuming you all around making you squirm “Bloody hell” you said moaning causing Draco to moan sending vibration all over your body, his tongue exploring you wall going into your center the out again licking your thigh and biting them. He stopped for a moment making you whine; he took two of his fingers “suck them” and you did as you were told sucking them and moaning “good girl” he took back his position and inserted the fingers you just sucked, your breath hitching in your neck “fuck” you said and Draco continued moving them slowly as the blowed on your clit “do you like this baby” he said smiling while you nodded closing your eyes and throwing your head back again. Draco fasten his pace and began sucking on your clit again “Fuck Draco I-I'm going to cum” you said moaning his name causing Draco to moan sending you over the edge his finger going faster as he sucked harder “Draco fuck” with that you hit ecstasy, you hit your orgasm your legs shaking Draco standing up sucking his fingers and whipping away the juices you left on his face “You taste so good princess” he said bringing himself down to kiss you “ride me baby” he said you still scared looked at him “nothing will happen” kissing you once more he stood up taking his clothes off revealing a bulge coming from his boxers, shoving them down revealing his cock, you stared at it getting wet at just the thought of touching him, he laid down an motioned you to go on top of him, you slowly got on top just sitting down on his thighs he groaned “Am I hurting you? I should get off” “No baby it’s turning me on even more, just imagining you jumping on my dick fuck” he said groaning his dick twitching. You grabbed him and started to pump him, you lowered yourself a little bit giving you the chance to lick his tip “fuck y/n” he moaned, you pumped him faster “fuck get me in you” he said throwing his head back, you slowly brought yourself to get comfortable and position himself in your entrance and you slowly went down, he groaned and brought his hips upwards making him go all the way in making you moan loudly “let go baby” Draco said as you went down once again, you started gaining confidence watching as Draco's face filled with pleasure and you started going faster up and down “Fuck yes y/n”  he said grabbing your hips guiding you up and down as you moaned loudly “Draco fuck yes I'm about to cum” “Hold it a little bit more baby” he said bucking his hips going harder into you “Draco” you moaned as he grunted “fuck” he said moaning making you go over the edge hitting your g-spot causing your walls to clenched “fuck “you yelled as you came “y/n” Draco yelled as he also came inside you both of you moaning. Panting you fall by Draco's side “And here you thought you couldn't ride me” you laugh hitting his arm “come here” he said as he hugged you “Don't ever underestimate me, thought, or ill teach you a lesson” he said looking at you making you blush “I love you, y/n” I love you too” you said making little circles on his chest with your fingers as you laid there until falling asleep.

[savoies]

ill take the floor - patrick moynihan.

summary: only one bed trope.

word count: 1.3k.

warnings: maybe one bad word.

a/n: so here it is, one of the only tropes i have not written yet. hope you enjoy and of course thank you to caitee (@joelsfarabees ) for saying do it. this went through about four drafts so uhm enjoy! italicized and bolded is going back in time.

taglist: ​( send in ask if you want to be added) ​@hartsyhart @nhlpetey @mitch-slap ​ @frostythegoalman @kirbysdch  @aria253264 ​  @josty ​ ​ @kaitieskidmore1 ​ ​ @kiedhara @laurenairay ​ @finnishmafiaa ​ ​ @alxvlasic ​ ​ @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby ​ ​ ​ @bowenbyram ​ @martynecass ​ @joshsandersons  @connormcdavo @maattamatthews ​ ​ @joelsfarabees ​ @selenophileangel ​ @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks @bowberrybyram @sidscrosbyy @2manytabsopen @wh0r3forpatrick

​tagging some buds: @simplyjosty @beauvibaby @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy

Summer. Something everyone looked forward to. No more school. No more having to worry about loads of assignments and time to finally wind down and relax. For certain people that meant going on trips, going to the beach, or just staying home. But for the Moynihan family that meant renting up a beach house or cabin.

It happened every year. Having Patrick away at college and not having much free time, it was a nice way to spend some time together.

This year Patrick suggested somewhere up in the mountains where him and his buddies from Providence had gone for winter break earlier in the year. Apparently everyone else on the east coast had the same idea as him because as they made their arrangements only one cabin was up for grabs and they took it without much consideration.

In three days they would drive out three hours to their destination travel spot. So after much talk Patrick and his sister Ciara were in their living room helping their parents set everything up that needed to be taken care of.

"So Pat excited to see Y/N?" Ciara said as she looked up at her twin brother.

"Considering i haven't seen her in person this whole school year yeah im pretty excited." He smiled as he thought about seeing you again. He missed you even though you guys talked whenever you could.

"So are you gonna make a move on her this year?" Ciara said suggestively as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"I dont know what you are talking about." Patrick said as he placed the rest of his bags by the door.

"Oh I see the way you look at her." Ciara said.

You were a mutual friend. But over the years of knowing each other you grew closer to Patrick, maybe even developing a small crush on him along the way. They had invited you over to the cabin to catch up. You being away at college. Ciara knew about your crush on her brother and how her brother felt about you so she had made it her mission to get you guys to get closer on this trip. Or at least for one of you to make a move on the other.

Everyone arriving safely at the cabin except some bickering between the twin siblings.

The kids ansty to go see what the cabin had to offer. "Here go ahead." Mrs. Moynihan said as she handed them the keys and they rushed inside piling their bags in the corner of the living room.

After seeing what was behind each door all of you walked back to the living room and Mrs. Moynihan spoke up.

"2 per room, so choose wisely who your roommate for the week will be."

"I choose Casey." Ciara spoke up almost too quickly. "Sorry Pat you're a snorer and Y/N you stay up way too late, i need my beauty sleep." 

"Are you ok with this?" Patrick turned to face you.

"Yeah i'm good. I mean we are both adults sort of. Yeah we can handle it." You smiled at him and shot a glance at Ciara.

"So now that that's settled let's start dinner." Mrs. Moynihan said as she led you all to the kitchen.

~~~

All of you sat around the fireplace outside as you finished dinner. Roasting marshmallows and eating smores.

The adults then going inside and leaving you guys outside as you talked and stargazed.

"I think i'm gonna head inside im getting pretty tired." You said as you got up and said your goodnights.

"What Y/N going to sleep before any of us, that's a first." Ciara spoke up.

"Oh shut up." You said hitting her shoulder playfully. Pat jogging up to catch up to you as both of you headed to the farthest bedroom.

"What not wanting to get bombarded on your love life by your sisters?" You raised your eyebrows playfully at him.

"Like i have one." He laughed.

"Oh really hotshot pat doesn't have a love life, i highly doubt that." Both of you laughing about it and stepping in your bedroom.

After both of you changed you each stood on one side of the bed.

"So uhm i can take the floor." Patrick said as he grabbed the pillow.

"Pat I am not letting you sleep on the floor. Not like we haven't fallen asleep together on the couch before. It's fine." You said as both of you got under the covers turning your backs against each other.

~~~

A few days had passed and it seemed that every day that passed both you and Patrick got closer and closer each morning waking up in each other's arms, the first night being kind of awkward.

Waking up you didn't expect to have Patrick's arm around you, less likely as tightly as it was.

Not sure what to do if you should wake him up or not you laid there staring at the high ceiling until he finally stirred awake.

"Shit my bad." He said as he quickly removed his arm from around your waist and blushed, you missing his warmth as soon as he did so.

"Well why are you avoiding eye contact." Ciara said as both of you walked out of the room and walked separate ways.

Bringing you back to the present where everyone was eating breakfast getting ready to head out to the lake.

"Y/N hurry up cause Casey is still asleep." 

You quickly heading to change as Ciara basically pushed the cereal down your throat for you to hurry up.

You looking through all of your bags, the car, the living room, and lastly the bathroom and not finding your bathing suit.

"Oh no. Oh no this can't be happening." You said as you thought about if you packed it or not.

"What's up?" Moyni questioned as he saw your distressed look.

"My bathing suit. I think I forgot it at home." 

"Well why don't you ask Ciara. She always brings like five because according to her they all look different on her depending on the weather." Pat said as you shouted thank you and ran out of the bedroom. But not before taking in his figure as he sat on the edge of the bed with his swim trunks and sandals.

'Hey Ciara, I forgot my swimsuit. Can i borrow one please?" You said as she soon laid out all of the options out and you picked out the one that would make you feel less insecure.

"Isn't it a bit small." You said as you walked out and covered your chest.

"I think it's cute. And someone else seems to think so also." She said as Pat was already looking at you when you stepped out into the living room.

"Pat close your mouth, you'll catch flies." Ciara whispered to her brother.

Everyone out on the lake that day having fun until they were physically exhausted. Both you and Moyni every so often looking at each other and averting eye contact whenever Ciara or anyone else would look at you guys.

"You know the sexual tension earlier was just wow." Ciara told you as everyone headed to their rooms for bed.

"Oh shut up." 

"You know it's the truth."

~~~

As time to head home neared both of you pretended to be asleep and cuddled into eachothers arms more often.

The last morning at the cabin both of you woke up as you curled into Patrick's chest. "You know i can get used to this." He said.

"Well maybe we should do it more often." You said as you smiled at him. Maybe it was a good thing that Ciara had been planning this all along, since after that trip both of you finally actually did something about the mutual feelings.

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #3

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!reader A/N: I shared my story on TikTok and thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🥺 It really means the world to me 💕 I was going to cut this up to two different parts because its so longggg but I thought I should post it as one since it was supposed to be posted over the weekend.

Read it from the beginning Part 1 Here  

Looking for part 2? Look no further

I had snow in my shoe, a hexed Gryffindor robe and George Weasleys sweater if all but the snow I would count this as a successful day. Walking to the Slytherin common room felt ages away and by far something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Draco can you please stop crying.” I huffed looking around the common room at a bunch of Slytherins angrily pointing at their hexed robes they haven’t bothered to change back, I suppose it fueled their anger and made them forget their terrible Quiddith match or maybe they were just enjoying mocking Gryffindor students.

“I’m not crying I’m just angry.You should’ve seen Potters smug face wh-” Draco was yelling and probably shaking a finger at me just like my nan, but today has been far too long for me to stick around for yet another of his Potter rants.

Changing out of my unforgiving cold clothes I put on blue pajamas. Now these were sneaking around the castle at 3am appropriate, not that I intended to get up that early again but it was nice feeling that this time I had at least prepared. Georges sweater sat on the edge of my bed, it looked so lonely sitting there, the room wasn’t cold but I think I lied to myself that it was just enough to justify wearing his sweater to bed. I smelt like George Weasley, it smells exactly like the amorentia I brewed earlier today. I wonder what George smells? And if I could buy a perfume that smells like that, perhaps I could trick him into liking me that way.

But those are horrible thoughts to be having of a day-old friend.

My morning was uneventful and I was grateful for the much needed peace and quiet from a hectic year. The library was as quiet as always, books silently whizzing over my head rearranging themselves with a silent thump here and there.

Fred sat down loudly on the chair next to me, the box in his hand clanging loudly against the wooden desk making me jump. “That sweater really brings out your eyes. Where’d you get it?” Fred laughed bumping his shoulder to mine making me nudge George’s shoulder.

My face went red at the sudden contact as if I wasn't wearing his sweater. “Piss off Fred.” Fred Weasley didn’t know how to whisper nor how to act around people he just met these two things I knew for sure.

“So we wanted to run this idea by you” George said reaching over me to get the box Fred had placed on the table.

Fred leaned on the table leaning against his arms to look over at his brother. “George beings a boring bellend. Talk some sense into him will ya.” George leaned over just like Fred, the 8 chair table seemed too small and it turns out Fred isn't the only that had issues with personal space.

Fred proceeded to tell me about the plan and George swore that Fred and Fred alone thought this all up. Which Fred answered that George was a fool that was loosing his sense of humor due to his old age. Ten minutes, 3 head flicking fights and one terrible plan later had me wondering how they had gotten as far as they did without seriously injuring someone.

I was afraid going against them would mean the end of our friendship but they want to put bertlys barfs and boils on the dinners feast but I for one did not want to wash off a third years barf from my robes.

I breathed in looking over at George to see if he was just as excited as Fred was, brown eyes met mine and for a flash I forgot what I was looking for. “That’s literally poisoning people.” I told Fred who's face fell at my shocking answer but George beamed from behind me, reaching over and draped his arm over me smiling at his brother.

Fred looked from George to me and then around the library looking around for someone that would agree to making an entire school sick to their stomach was anything but a horrible ideas. Unlucky for us he found it in the form of a ghost hiding frogs behind a set of books “Peeves what do you think?” Fred called out waving him over like an old friend.

Peeves stopped what he was doing walking over to us.His hat framing the sides of his face, his shoes gave off a slight jingle with every steep and his face lighting up at seeing us “I think it’s brilliant! While you’re at it I suggest putting some on the old professors food. Make it a party!” He said stepping on top of the table kicking some of the papers I was working on around, some of the scrolls rolling across the wooden floor.

Fred clapped his hands on the table smiling up at Peeves “Finally someone that understands!” and with that Peeves stepped off the table further kicking my potions assignment further around the library surely to be tossed or lost forever. 

Sighing I looked over at Fred who's face never wavered “Can’t just have it change peoples hair color? You know not unknowingly make them violently ill.” I said looking back at George for some support something he was already giving me with a loopy smile as if he just drank 4 pints of Firewhisky.

Scrunching my eyebrows at him he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Nodding his head making his hair move in all sort of directions, I wonder if it was as soft as it looked. “I kinda don’t want to see boils popping on the French toast.” George said shrugging his shoulders at his brother, I was still blissfully over aware that his arm was slung over my shoulders

Throwing his head back slumping down on his chair with an overly dramatic sigh he closed his eyes “Fine fine we’ll think it over.” Fred said waving us away, to where he wanted us to disappear I don’t know and frankly I didn't care enough to ask.

As it turned out there was no prank that year. The laughter we had anticipated was pushed to the side with George and Fred gathering money for the new joke shop they talked so fondly about. The laughter was later completely forgotten at the news of Cediric Diggorys untimely passing.Our secret joke meetings got replaced with hospital wing visits looking after Harry and Ron who had picked fights with what seemed like all of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was always there with us and sometimes their other friends stopped by with plants or books or snacks they thought they might enjoy during their stay. 

We didn't know what was worse you-know-whos reappearance or the fact that people thought Harry killed Cedric himself for a stupid trophy in a stupid game that Dumbledore wasn’t bright enough to not let a 15 year old Harry participate in. The year ended and while I was sad to not see George nor Fred for a while, I was glad we no longer had to pull apart fights and mend bruises.

The summer consisted of writing letters to Fred and George, well mostly George. It was not just because I liked him but also because Fred had awful hand writing, that at times it made me question if I even knew how to read at all. I occasionally asked them how Ron was doing, if Harry was doing any better and if Hermione still looked at Ron fondly. I still wore Georges sweater around the house that I was not permitted to leave from and more often than not I got teased on my crush on the Weasley boy from my mother, father, brother and sister-in-law who seemed to have no other entertainment besides teasing me.

The days were long and our boredom filled the house. I was more than glad when the school year began once again. Sitting in the train cart with Draco and his friends who my family asked me to keep a close eye on as they feared they might stray somewhere horrible. I didn't have the heart to tell them I suspected they already had, so I was stuck with Draco and his never ending Harry Potter rant.

“You know Draco I think the only person that talks about Harry as much as you do is Ginny.” I said, which caused him to turn an awful shade of red. The remainder of the trip was left in silence which I was thankful for. Stepping into the grand hall I looked around for Fred and George who to no-ones surprised were whispering between the two of them.

Pushing past other students I was finally in front of the boys I spent all summer writing to. They seemed to have gotten taller and their hair had gotten shorter. “Fred! George I missed you!”I said grabbing them down into a hug which they returned just as quickly as they broke it off.

“Sorry gotta run.” Fred said smiling down at me ruffling my hair. Embarrassed I tried to flatten it down in an effort for it to regain it’s original place.

“Places to be.” George said following his brother, I reached over yanking him back. Perhaps they had things to do, what things could be done in the first day back I don’t know but I was hurt they were leaving me behind without as much as a hello tossed my way.

“Wait your sweater!” Was all I could say as I pushed his neatly folded sweater that said ‘I thought about the way the sleeves are folded because I like you but I didn’t think enough about it for you to worry’ towards him. Hesitantly he reached over placing his hand on top and bottom of the sweater, his fingers grazing mine, being awfully gentle like it could fall apart right then in there in the great hall.

He smiled at him making my heart jump “Oh thanks I was looking for it all break.” he said rather confidently for a lie, I wrote him every week asking if I should send it over but every week it seemed to be too hot or too rainy or too blue out for a sweater to be delivered via owl.  “Here can you hold this for a bit.Thanks you’re a life saver.” He said tugging off the sweater he already had on and tugging it over my head. I was left with frizzy hair, alone and with George Weasleys sweater once again.

The year was going awful and I wondered if it was all just one big nightmare caused by a faulty potion in Professor Snape's class. Unfortunately it was not and we were in fact left with a highly dressed up and highly pink toad of a woman being our professor. 

“Eyes up front children. There will be no speaking out of turn in my classroom.” Professor Umbridge said as she continued on with her lesson in the defense against the dark arts, a field that while highly skilled she refused to prove it. A sentiment that had the gracious opportunity to fill my ear when I was helping Professor Snape grade papers earlier that day. 

The days seemed somehow longer than they did over the summer, perhaps it was the ridiculous amount of reading or perhaps it was because Fred and George had agreed amongst themselves that I no longer existed.

A head of red hair passed by and at that moment I swore it was my favorite color “Ron!” I called out running to catch up with him, he tensed up his shoulders before turning to look at who had called me.

“Bloody hell woman you almost killed me.” He said clutching his robes just over the place his heart was, well at least would be if it was not in fact on the other side. Perhaps I was a bit too thrilled to had finally made at least one of the Weasley stay long enough to speak to me.

“Oh hello Hermione I haven't seen you in a while!” That was in fact a lie I haven't seen her at all but it seemed like a polite thing to say at the time “Ron If you see your brothers ca-”

“Y/n why don’t you just try acquainting yourself with decent people? Not of the likes of Weasleys and mudbloods.” Draco said from behind me, Ron turned red much like he did when he was about to fight and Hermione scrunched her nose balling her fist as if she was about to take a swing and Draco.

I felt awfully silly picking a fight with a boy that I passed charms notes to earlier that day.But I could not help but feel the dread that washed over Hermione Granger when he called her a mudblood, a girl who's potions paper I gave a perfect mark to minutes earlier. “Oh like who? You? Push over little daddies boy?” I said standing tall looking at him.The way he said Weasley filled me with more anger than the way he called Hermione Granger a mudblood a sentiment I felt awful for feeling.

Dracos face twisted in an awful expression that made me wish I drank whatever liquid courage they fed Gryffindors. “Watch who you’re talking to!” 

“No you watch it Draco.”I said taking a stride closer towards him, our shoes nearly touching and my legs slightly shaking. “Does your mum approve of the things you do?” I said to him only loud enough for him to hear it.

His face dropped before getting a scowl once more “Don’t talk about my mother.” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t give me a reason to.Now get out of here before I make you regret it.” I warned, an empty threat, as empty as they come but Draco did not know enough about me to call my bluff. With a sneer and a swish of a cape he walked away and I was glad I could finally wipe the sweat off my palms on my robe.

The shoes stepping towards me made me tense as I suddenly became aware that I had in fact almost fought a child in front of two other children. A gentle hand was placed on my stiff shoulder instantly making them drop.“Are you alright?” Hermione asked which a nod was all I could answer her with.

I didn’t answer her, afraid my voice would shake and give Draco the satisfaction he got done over on me “Holy shit I feel like I’m going to throw up.” I said once he was out of sight, I joked with being placed in Gryffindor before but for the first time I realized something the sorting hat knew all along. I was in fact empty of courage.

“That was amazing I’ve never seen someone stand up to that git Malfoy like that.” Ron mused smiling as he threw a finger at Dracos back, his smile soften when he saw the awful color mine was.  “A-and I’ll make sure to tell George and Fred to stop being such idiots.”

The rest of the day passed without much anything of note, except every slam and quick movement filled me with dread thinking that Malfoy came back for another squabbling match. When the two chairs besides me got pulled out I was worried I was in for a beating and started wondering were a bunch of children would take the piss out of me. Instead George and Fred sat besides me, the rest of the study table giving them odd looks as they all concluded the Weasleys and I were no longer in speaking terms.

“You’re talking to me now?” I said turning back to my herebology book that was rather bland and focused on an smear on the page to fain interest in.

George leaned over placing his head down on the table in an effort to get me to pay attention, but all he did was look like a git. A git that made my heart swell but most importantly a git over anything. “Look we’re sorry a lot of things have been happening and well we’re just part of something.” He said placing his hand over the pages of the book.

“Top secret something.” Fred said leaning into me.

“Dumbledores army? I’ve heard” I whispered to them in an actual proper whisper something they had no knowledge in.

“Ye- how’d you know?” George said closing the textbook infant of me, looking from me to his brother to the other people in the table that had absolutely no interest into what they could be planning now.

I shrugged “Freds shit at whispering.”

“Perfect then you're caught up on everything. So we made this extendable ear and we wanted to run it by you.” Fred said digging out a torn up ear from his pocket and acting like I didn't just say that I knew about a top secret after school club.

“Hold up I never said I forgave you twats”

“You want me to get on my knees? I’ll get on my knees.”

“No George that-” I started to say shaking my head.

“Please come back to us ,our sad little hearts have a y/n shaped holes.” George said getting on his knees, in front of me with people looking at us as if we lit a garbage on fire. 

My face turned red as I tried to drag him up to his feet to no avail “Get up.” I said between tugs as Fred laughed on and I can’t tell if that made it better or worse.

“I’m on my knees begging for you to take me back.” George said a bit more loudly with every word, in any other context I would be flattered over the moon in fact. But the snickers and Snape walking towards us made me reevaluate the flattery and George Weasley as a whole.

“Fine I forgive you now get up people are staring.” I said and with that George got up, not because he was embarrassed or because Snape came with a text book up in arms to hit us over the head with but because he just wanted to hear that I forgave him.

Everything seemed to be looking up, there was no sign of you-know-who, Ginny punched the Ravenclaws that were giving Luna Lovegood a hard time in the face, there had been less rain than expected and George, Fred and I were now friends once more. Perhaps all was not good Umbridge was still there in her twisted demented Elle Woods impersonation and Filch could not stop being tragically in love with Umbridge, at times I wonder if I was the Filch in George and I’s situation.

The D.A.D.A class came to an end, a time I thought had forgotten about us. I was packing up my bags, grabbing the text books a manicured handed stopped me.

“Can you come with me to my office?” Umbridge said in more of a demand than a request, nodding my head I followed her to her office. Perhaps I expected a lair or to see Oswald Mosley and Jack the ripper having a cup of tea over the fire but all I got was what looked like the inside of my nan’s house.

“Lovely room. I have a cat myself.”  I said, a shiver going down my spine as at least a hundred cats meowed and purred down on me from their strategically placed spots. I loved my cat but I wondered if I could ever love this as much as this, perhaps it was not love at all.

Clapping her hands together she smiled at me “I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you” Umbridge said with a tight smile and while she stood in all her glory in bright pink I don't think it was meant as a compliment. “I called you here because I’ve heard from some of your housemates you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd with those Weasel bo-”

“Weasley.” I said too confidently for someone that was sitting on a chair that had a picture of a kitten on it.

“I beg your pardon” She stopped smiling her tight lipped smile.

“It’s Weasley not weasel ma’am.” I suspected that she knew that but wasn’t particularly interested in it. She gave out a laugh that sounded like it had been squeezed out of her which by the look in her face I suspect it had.

“Oh did I say that? A slip of the tongue I suppose. As I was saying we’re all worried about you my dear, I suspect doing a few lines will help us clear this up.” She said tapping the piece of parchment paper that sat alone in the desk. “Write “I must not stray’ to help you remember where you truly belong.” A bit on the nose and tacky but I wasn't the one that drank tea out of cups laced with cat fur ,perhaps it had all gone to her head or maybe all adults were this pretentious.

“I’m afraid I didn't bring my quill.” I said over the sea of meows, when I said this she smiled a genuine smile this time.

“No need to worry I have it all set up for you.” She said placing a quill in front of me ever so delicately.

“Thank you Ma’am. How many lines am I to write?”

“I suspect till you feel it sink in dear.” She said once agains laughing, her hands place neatly and delicately in front of her. She smiled with teeth that was some how more intimidating than her tight lipped smile. I did not know how to tell her she had pink lipstick on her teeth.Picking up the quill I noticed there was no ink and I silently saluted the Wizarding world for discovering the amazing muggle creation that are pens.

I should’ve known that these old gits didn’t update to pens, I should’ve known when she smiled at me, I should’ve known when she stood besides me watching me write lines. A lot of should’ves weren't going to erase the burning wound that was not on my arm for an undisclosed amount of time.

‘I must not stray’ I couldn’t see it but I could feel it burn against the sweater, the robes, the air itself seemed to be conspiring on making the cut ache. Having my arm at a certain angle made it 

“I brought you a hot chocolate.” George said appearing out of no where, it was almost comical and a bit concerning how no matter where I was George and Fred could always find me.

“What for?” Looking down at the cup in his hands I wondered besides hot chocolate what else would be in it.

George smiled “What I can't be a good friend? Bring you a hot drink on a cold night like this?” He said scooting a bit closer to me, I was suddenly overly aware of where my arm was placed.

Fred sat down besides me with a blue box on his lap “And we wanted to see if you could try some of our new skydiving snacks boxes.”

“And what if I die?” 

“Well then we’ll miss you terribly.” Fred said placing a sad hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let you die.Now open up.” George smiled beckoning me to open up which I did, if I were to trust anyone to hand fed me it would be against my better judgment George Weasley. His face dropped a bit and the gag snack never reached my mouth “What’s wrong with your arm?”

My face drained of color as I looked at him “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to try your parachute snacks.”

“Skydiving. Come on we’re your best mates show us.” Fred said, in a tone that was unlike his own not a hint of sarcasm and only of pure worry. A tone I’ve only heard after a particularly nasty fall Ron had while playing quidditch.

They made a fuss. Well it was mostly George that seemed a bit unhinged by the scar and Fred shifted between asking me if it hurt and telling George to calm down. It took hours, countless ‘I’m alright’s’ and a few ‘she can’t get to me that easily’s’ to calm George down enough to even begin to talk about what they had also came looking for me for.

“So here’s the plan.” Fred started, while George began wrapping my arm up with bandages he carried for this occasion however I doubted he thought he would be bandaging me up. Fred continued talking between George’s ‘are you okay?’ and ‘Are you sure it doesn't hurt?’. Even when I was all bandaged up George still held on to my arm.

“Hmmm.” I hummed once Fred finished telling me the plan.

He knew well enough to trust me with the pranks but something about me Fred thought funny to test me “Hmm?” he imitated me.

“Can you make something eat her?” I said waving my hand over the propped notebook he had in his hands.

“Like a troll?” Fred thought about it but not before looking at me with equal parts respect and as if I had completely off the rails. Nodding “Yea but made of fireworks?” I said. ‘Better make it a real one’ George murmured besides me, not only did he have a pout forming, playing around with my fingers but I was also surprised to know that at least one of them knew how to whisper.

Scratching his head Fred looked over the notebook, I wondered if they had a section dedicated to this hell I wonder if anyone but Fred could decipher the utter chicken scratch he had on there. “Blimey I know we’re brilliant but give us some room to breathe” breathing out some air Fred skimmed through the notes  “What about a dragon? I reckon we can do a dragon.” Fred spoke more to himself, I doubt he meant for us to answer and I didn't even had the knowledge to answer it.

“Wait you have to take me with you guys.” I said a bit too forceful, a bit too instant and a bit too excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous you're a bloody good witch, you belong here.” George countered, startling me a he broke his silent grieving, perhaps he was afraid that the plan would back fire and they would be in for a punishment worse than writing lines.

“Screw that let’s go you can sweep around the shop.” Fred laughed ignoring his brother glares that I could feel burning the side of my face.

I wasn’t too fond of agreeing with Fred but having one of them on board was better than none “I’ll invest in your shop. I heard my parents talk about a spot in Diagon Alley, I think we can get a good price” I talked far too quickly and far too excitedly, perhaps to get ahead of them backing up on their half promise.

“An investor? You’re still going to have to clean around the shop, in a maids outfit I reckon you know for ambiance.” Fred laughed poking George shoulder when he mentioned the maids outfit, as much as I would do to make George happy I don't think I could go as far as dressing up as a maid in what I suspect is anything but a propers maid uniform.

George shook his head “We can’t take her with us Fred she can't just drop out of school l-” He said and while they argued all the time this was the first time George had been serious about it, and I finally understood the angry George he told me he said he was. 

“Bite me George I’m coming with you. I wasn’t even supposed to attend this year.” I said my best trying to defuse the situation.

“Yea bite her George she’s coming with us. Wait you weren’t supposed to attend this year? What couldn't resist us?” Fred smiled flexing his arms and running his hand through his hair, an act that I’m sure nobody but himself thought of as sexy.

“My parents heard you-know-who was coming back and insisted I go somewhere else but I know Gryffindors and especially you two gits are just filled with courage and being the biggest sniffling idiots. I just had to make sure you stayed alive long enough for-”

“For?” George said interrupting me, as if the next word out of my mouth was not going to be that very explanation.

“For me to see you two again.” I said playfully bumping their shoulders, careful to mind my arm.

“Yack you’re such a sap.Come on we got things to plan” Fred said taking out parchment paper to make adjustments for their plans, George stared at me as if I had something particularly interesting on my face and for a moment I wondered if I did.

Packing up the last of the fireworks I checked and double checked we in fact were carrying hundreds of working fireworks.Snaps and crackles sounded through the hallways as Fred,George and I dropped and tossed fireworks. I held on the George because I unlike them didn't know how to ride a broom and being far too short on time to be thought how to do so.

Fire works went off below us, crashing into the room were O.W.L.S were being taken confused students and an equally confused Umbridge looked up at disbelief at us. Fireworks twisted and turned and exploded everywhere.

George and Fred highfived each other on passing as the cheers below us began getting drowned out by the deafening noise. I could hardly contain my excitement as a series of fireworks went off, shifting closer to George I looked over his shoulder waiting for the big reveal.A dragon of a hundred glowing fireworks went off as it snapped at Umbridge who was yelling trying to outrun it. 

Umbridge who as I suspect could be spotted from miles away in her pink dress and pink shoes covered in black powder waved and shook her fist at us, grabbing up at the air in efforts to drag us back down.

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” The twins called out and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw him give them a bow.

Turning my head to look at Peeves for what I suspect to be the last time, I wanted to wave goodbye to him. But I was far too off the ground and far too scared to wave instead I hopped he knew that I would despite him dropping a slug in my drink would in fact miss him very very much.

Hogwarts quickly became smaller and smaller. I see why they were considered great at quidditch I felt like I was flying through time at the probably criminal speed they were going.

“What’s the plan now Weasley?” I said looking up at him. He looked as if his face was being pulled back and I found it ridiculous that I was still in fact smitten by it.

He shrugged his shoulders yelling over the loud wind “Reckon we got to get married now don’t think you’ll get into another school.”

Nodding my head I laughed, I wasn’t sure as to what exactly was the joke or if I had laughed before the punchline but nevertheless I laughed. “I guess you’re right. You think Fred would marry me?”

“Ye- What no.Not Fred he’s a git. You should marry me”  George smiled and said as if where the sanest and most normal thing anyone could say to their friend. My stunned silence made his confident smile flatten a tad as he stumbled trying to back track or perhaps he was thinking of just pushing me off the broom at this rate. “You know for business purposes we already came up with the name and I’d feel awful not including you.” He reasoned with me, if this was his idea of reasonable I was extremely worried about what he thought as unreasonable.

“Merlin Weasley at least take me on a date before you try marrying me.” My words came out shaky and I could feel my heart pounding, I wonder if George could feel it pounding against his back.

“I can do that.” He said turning to briefly face me, perhaps I’ve died and gone to heaven or perhaps I have misunderstood this situation.

“Finally for fucks sake.” Fred scoffed from above us, I knew I was in fact very much alive because Fred would not be in my idea of heaven humming disco songs as he rode his broom.

[yan-twst]

Hello ! Can I have a scenario with Lilia. The reader is a Fae warrior who fought alongside Lilia a long time ago. There's always been something between them but nothing happened because a relationship between warrior was forbidden. After several years they meet again at NRC when the reader brings something to Malleus. It's been in my mind for a while, so I'm trying! Thanks !

Centuries

pairing: lilia x gn!reader

word count:  2910

warnings: mentions of war, like one mention of blood

------

There really wasn’t time for love during war. There wasn’t even a chance to get comfortable, really- the fae warriors were supposed to be quick, efficient, ruthless: things like romance between warriors weren’t allowed, it was too risky, it could turn them reckless. Lilia, of course, knew this; he’d been well-warned a long time ago, and he’d seen the horrors of war upclose. It always hurt to lose a friend, but it’d hurt more if it was a lover. He didn’t care, really, he was there to fight in the name of the Witch of Thorns and not to build relationships.

Or at least that’s what he’d say when his fellow warriors would ask him if he had his eye on anyone. He was one of the more seasoned fighters, with lifetimes of experience under his belt and strength that betrayed his appearance, along with his powerful magic. It wasn’t unusual for the younger fighters to gather around him for chats or to hear stories, it was one of the few ways to lift the spirits in the barracks in the sparse times of quietness. Dating, or romance in general, was forbidden, sure, but it didn’t stop the younger soldiers from prodding and asking if he wasn’t getting a bit too close to a certain someone.

“You are all certainly nosy, aren’t you?” laughed Lilia as he put down his canteen. His squad had arrived at a small base in the Valley of Thorns’ border a few days ago as prevention, having received intel that some of the enemy army would probably try to get in while the greater part of the Witch of Thorn’s army was fighting off in the main battleground. Of course, the more elite warriors had been sent to safeguard said point in the border; amongst them two of the army’s best, those being Lilia and...

“Aw, c’mon, you can’t say you don’t like them at least a little! You’re always sticking by their side, sir!” one of the youngest fae spoke up, crossing his arms.

Them. Lilia and [name], two of the most skilled warriors in the Witch of Thorn’s army, and also the source of countless rumors. Lilia let out a sigh- it was always the young kids trying to tease him. Did they really think he’d just go and admit he was breaking rules and romancing a fellow warrior just because some rumors said so? Not only was it not allowed, they shouldn’t be concentrating on silly relationship rumors. There was a war going on.

“Now, now, you know very well that’s not allowed, young man.” Lilia gently tapped the boy’s helmet, shaking his head. “If you keep worrying over every rumour you hear in the barracks, you’re not going to be able to keep your head on your body out in the field.”

“But yesterday I saw you two talking, and you almost put your hand on their hip-”

“You’re polishing everyone’s armour today.” Lilia quickly cut off the young warrior, assigning him a task as a punishment. The young fae groaned, knowing full well that if he kept pushing he’d get assigned even more work, as the rest of the fae laughed. The door to the room opened, making Lilia look up; speak of the devil, there they were. Out of armor, they still looked fearsome, their sharp eyes scanning the room.

“You all, what are you doing here?” they asked, tilting their head. “You were supposed to go check our weapons and make sure nothing is damaged from transportation. None of you have done that, have you?”

The warriors quickly scrambled out of the room, not wanting to get assigned any punishment. Lilia chuckled; he liked this squad, sure, but he’d never quite seen so many airheaded fighters. Oh, they had proved themselves on the battlefield before, surely- but in regular tasks, they certainly weren’t the best. His fellow warrior chuckled from the door, then looked straight at Lilia.

“You weren’t distracting the young ones, were you?” they said. There were many things that made Lilia be particularly more friendly to them than to others; shared interests, experience, but perhaps something more was the fact they were one of the few fae warriors nearly as old as him. They shared the wisdom and experience that came with years and years and years of living, something not many could say they shared with Lilia. “I think the enemy will be here in about three days.”

“Three days? Oh my, that’s quicker than expected.” said Lilia, humming. He wasn’t worried- really, if it was just him and them, he knew it’d be enough to hold back the enemy’s whole platoon if necessary.

“Mhm, our informants sent the intel just now.” they replied, taking a seat next to Lilia. “The way things are going, this war might be over soon.”

“Wouldn’t that just be lovely?” said Lilia. ‘Soon’ probably meant a couple of years, of course; and the consequences of the war itself would permeate for longer, but a handful of years really wasn’t much to him or them. He didn’t love wartime, sure, but there was some melancholy in thinking of it ending: after all, the warriors would be once again spread through the kingdom once they weren’t needed in battle. He’d be stationed somewhere, with new people, and... Well, he shouldn’t dwell over it. It’d be good for everyone.

“Well, it’s not like that means much.” the other warrior stretched, and Lilia couldn’t help but stare. They weren’t in armor, not when just hanging out at the base, but they still had an air of strength to them. The glow of the fireplace in the room cast an amber glow on their skin and hair, their sharp fae ears sticking out of their slightly messy hair. If he weren’t also so ancient, he’d have a hard time believing they’d lived for so long: in moments like these, they felt so young, so beautiful. “After this war ends, who knows how much time we’ll have until the next one? Peace just never seems to stick around.”

“Tragically, you’re right.” sighed Lilia. “It seems like conflict just increases every passing decade, doesn’t it? I still remember when these wars were small enough they’d only send one of us to deal with trouble.” said Lilia with a sigh. “Now every kingdom has an army and a motive to attack, it seems.”

“I know it’s impossible, but... Can you imagine if peace really did stick around?” they didn’t say anything else, but Lilia understood what they meant as their hand softly rested upon his. Extended peace- time for them. Away from the army, away from their duties as fae warriors, away from rules that forbade romance. Neither of them ever discussed the topic, always skirting around it, but it was clear they were both waiting. “Hm, as if. There’s always going to be conflict, isn’t there?”

“It sure seems so.” replied Lilia, softly gazing at their face. “It’d be a miracle if the world could ever truly be at peace for just once.”

-------

But then there was peace.

The war ended messily, with more losses to each side than either kingdom had expected. Nothing was truly won, other than some territory and the usual honour of winning battles- the usual spoils of war, mostly worthless to the warriors themselves. Of course, Lilia couldn’t be upset: he knew exactly what being a warrior entailed, and he’d sworn to serve the Witch of Thorns with his life. Perhaps that was why he was appointed to take care of Her grandchild, once he was born- it was a shock, to be suddenly playing the role of a caretaker when he’d spent so long as a fighter, but he was proud to say he’d adapted to it quickly. He heard [name] had been sent to continue working as a warrior under the Queen’s name, guarding the newly captured territory, but he was in no place to inquire. He had a new job, after all- and he knew very well fae warriors weren’t allowed romance.

Memories of the war quickly became something he kept merely in the back of his mind, vague images that would sometimes show up in dreams but never quite bother him. After all, taking care of Malleus was simply much more important. It wasn’t just out of a sense of duty, at least not anymore; he’d grown to genuinely care for the child. He’d never have imagined himself as a father, and yet, as time went on, he played perfectly into the role- going as far as to raise a human child as his own, once Malleus was grown. And then there he was: attending school once again, as if he was a teenager, along with Malleus and Silver- from a warrior, to a father, to a student.

“Lilia, the messenger from home will be arriving today. They should bring the herb with them.” Malleus distracted Lilia from his videogame, causing his character to fall and the game to display the ‘you have died’ screen. The elder fae didn’t seem fazed, instead just nodding.

“Great, that’s wonderful! I’ll be sure to make the paste as soon as they hand the herb over.” said Lilia, putting down his console and walking up to Malleus. The shorter fae patted the prince’s head, making the prince turn his head to the side to hide his embarrassment. “Now, now, there’s no need to get embarrassed, I used to do this all the time when you were a wee little baby!”

Neither Lilia or Malleus were quite sure why, but lately, Malleus’ horns had started to ache. It wasn’t an illness or a curse, but rather something Malleus was familiar with: it was the same dull ache he’d felt in his childhood as his horns grew. They’d long since stopped their growth, but from time to time, the ache would return for seemingly no reason, and the only way to get it to stop was a paste made from an herb native to the Valley of Thorns. Lilia had written to the palace a while ago requesting some of the herbs to be sent over, and it seemed they’d sent a messenger today.

When he was notified to go meet the messenger in the hall of mirrors, Lilia insisted Malleus tag along. It wasn’t often he could get Malleus to interact with others in a casual setting, with most people being so scared of him, but surely, staff from the palace would at least properly greet and hold a conversation with the prince, right? Perhaps it was still his fatherly instincts telling him to help his child grow out of his shell, but Lilia ended up dragging Malleus along to the hall of mirrors.

“Good evening, we’re here for the package-” Lilia froze once he saw who stood by the mirror.

The last time he’d seen them, they’d been in full armor, holding their weapon, covered in the enemy’s blood. That’d been the last battle in the war- so long ago, yet he could remember it perfectly- the last time he’d seen them. He’d been sure that would be the last time he saw them, or that it’d take for another war to brew for him to be reunited with them under the strict rules of the army. And yet there they were, dressed in traditional Valley of Thorns clothes, holding a parcel under their arm, looking as young and beautiful as ever.

“... Lilia?!” they seemed surprised to see him there. Sure, they had probably heard the prince was attending NRC and accompanied by some guards and a caretaker, but they’d probably expected some old soot from the palace, not Lilia, not an ex-warrior. They almost dropped the package, quickly regaining their balance.

“This is-” even Lilia was at a loss for words. Time truly hadn’t done much to damper his feelings; even after centuries of not seeing them, he could feel his heart speed up, much like it had back then when he sat next to them, basking in their presence. They looked at him, then at Malleus, then back at him, and it seemed they quickly realized they were in presence of the prince, because they suddenly kneeled.

“My lord, here is the package of herbs you requested.” they said, addressing Malleus. Despite not being very social, Malleus had enough experience dealing with formalities to not be flustered over this- however, he looked quite confused at Lilia’s reaction. He took the package, then turned to his caretaker. After a few seconds, he set his eyes on the messenger.

“Thank you.” he said, quickly adding, “Are you familiar with Lilia?”

“We fought in the war together.” they replied quickly, but it looked as if though they were picking their words carefully. It made sense- it was weird to explain their relationship with Lilia. It had absolutely been more than just fellow soldiers, something past a regular friendship, and yet it hadn’t quite been a romance, neither daring break the rules and take the first step. There wasn’t a comfortable way to explain such a thing, no way to say we were in love but neither of us dared do anything about it because we weren’t allowed to.

“Oh, seeing you brings back memories I thought I’d forgotten.” Lilia chuckled, although he seemed to be acting off. Nervous, almost? Luckily, the subtle changes in his attitude went right over Malleus’ head, and he just nodded. “Malleus, would you mind returning to the dorm with the herbs? The fresher they are when we begin the better- ask Silver to boil some water so I can start preparing them soon.”

“Are you staying behind, then?” replied Malleus, and Lilia chuckled, then nodded.

“Oh, you must understand it’s not often I get to chat with an old friend like this.” said Lilia. Malleus didn’t seem like he quite understood, but nodded nonetheless, and bid goodbye to the two ancient fae before disappearing, leaving only small wisps of green fire that slowly faded away in the air.

“... The prince is as powerful as they say, isn’t he?” they said, staring at the fading green lights. 

“He certainly is. Oh, but he’s also a sweetheart, don’t believe those who say he’s coldhearted or meanspirited.” said Lilia with a smile. “He’s a little cold right now, but that’s just how teenagers are, you know.”

“... You’ve certainly been busy since last time I saw you. I knew they’d appointed someone to take care of the Queen’s grandson, but I never would have imagined it’d be you.” they said, looking off to the side. “I’ve been working around the palace- you know, I really can’t believe I was wrong, but it seems peace is here to stay for a long time. Not much use for a warrior nowadays.”

There were a few moments of silence as both fae stared at each other. It’d been so long- by now, anyone else would have moved on, gotten to someone else, built new relationships. And yet neither of them had to say it for the other one to know; neither had truly moved on. They weren’t warriors anymore: right now, they were just two adults, two people in love, despite never having said it. And before he could really think about it, Lilia’s arms were around them, his mouth pressed into theirs.

Oh, intimacy. How long had it been since he’d been this close to someone? He’d had his share of throwaway flings in the years after the war, but his full attention had been on raising Malleus. Besides, nothing could quite compare to this: he’d been imagining how it’d feel to hold them close, to have his lips on them, to kiss them deeply, ever since the war. How had he gone so long without this? Truly, he couldn’t understand how he’d had enough self-restraint to never act upon his feelings back then, how both him and them had been obedient enough to not act on their love just because the rules said so. 

“... I missed you.” they murmured once they separated their lips from his. They were staring right into his eyes, their face slightly red and eyes full of love. “Back then, in the war- every time I was alone with you, I... I thought about how badly I wanted to be with you. I thought about how much I loved you, and god, it hurt, it really hurt to have to keep it all locked inside.”

“You’re taking my words right out of my mouth, my love.” said Lilia, pressing his forehead against theirs. His arms wrapped around them, he could feel their heartbeat in their chest- their heart was going fast, but once again, so was his. “I can’t believe I waited so long to do this.”

Wordlessly, they kissed him again. Lilia vaguely thought it’d be rather embarrassing if Crowley were to walk in to lock the hall of mirrors now, but he couldn’t be bothered; he’d been waiting centuries for this moment. It wasn’t often Lilia felt young (truly, he was ancient), but right in that moment, he felt like he was being kissed for the first time. Two fae ancient enough to be recorded in history textbooks holding each other, letting the emotions they’d held onto for hundreds of years finally blossom- it was an odd image, but a charming one.

“I love you.” he murmured, burying his head into their neck. “You don’t know how happy I am I finally get to tell you that.”

[beigehearts]

The Price of Self Respect

this is part one of a series of yandere chrollo x fem!reader. this story will contain explicit content. Warnings at the beginning of the chapter. Please send me requests if you wish to for hxh characters and scenarios! ❤

PART I Read part two here!  CW: mentions of death, murder, and gore 1,730 words

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It had been many days since you had received an assignment as a hunter. At this point you would have taken a request to open a pickle jar. You had an agent who sourced your jobs through to you that way no one could know your identity. Your agent barely knows your identity outside of your phone number. While you are no where near as infamous as the Zoldyck Family- you definitely are not unknown. “The Creator” is what most people would refer to you as- quite fitting for your ability. Specialists are not as scarce as people make them out to be; a specialist who utilizes their ability as best as they can is scarce. You conjure a pencil, and you can draw anything into existence. Your nen concentrates in your hand and you can create life (or at least a husk of life). Drawing animals or weapons, even humans (who aren’t quite sentient) earned you your high respect as a hunter.

You gaze out of the window at the quiet streets of a city you’ve never travelled to. While the hotel is large and towers over the town, it is probably the biggest building for miles. Bzzzz. You turn towards your bed and see your phone screen is lit up. Picking up the phone you see a single message from the only saved number on your phone.  York New. 14:00. 1278 Pearl Street. G Watanabe- Room 207.  You scroll down to see the status of the person. Alive. Wanted Dead. 7 Days. Employer ---

A smile graced your lips knowing that you finally have a job. While town hopping and sight seeing for the past few weeks was a nice rst, you can’t just halt your income. You enjoy your job anyway so the money is a bonus. Ill pack in the morning you think to yourself, once you land in York New you may have some extra time to research your target. 

The plane ride was smooth and quite comforting- you paid for first class. While you could use your hunter card to be priority seating, it leaves a trace of where you’ve been. Plus, you’ll be getting paid soon enough and the 12 hour plane ride in first class would be nothing compared to the fat check that would be wired to your account. Murder is expensive you know. 

Stepping out of the taxi, the driver gets out and opens the trunk for you. You grab your one small backpack filled with nothing but snacks- drawn snacks are not particularly tasty. Just because you can create it doesn’t mean it’s true to the real deal. You jog towards the doors, fat rain drops assaulting you meanwhile. You get your room key under for the room you reserved under an alias and make your way to the elevator. You press the button to go up and when the elevator reaches your floor it sounds a satisfying ‘ding’ and the doors open almost soundlessly. You stepped into the confined space and to your surprise a man steps in with you. You hadn’t even sensed him nearby, it seemed as if he just popped into reality. 

He’s tall, is the first thing you think when you look at him. Not necessarily tall as in feet wise (though he definitely had quite a few inches on you) but his aura and the way he carried himself made it seem as if he towered you. The corner of his lips turn upwards and suddenly he doesn’t seem so intimidating. It’s as if he was dragged back down to earth. 

“Good morning, awful weather it seems.” The man says with a chuckle. You take a moment to drink in all of him. His black hair is somewhat messy, a middle part with water dripping down a few strands. A bandage is wrapped around his forehead and you wonder if it’s an injury or a fashion statement. A large fur coat cover most of his body, you’re only able to capture a glimpse of a white button up shirt at his neck. 

“Terrible. My flight almost had an emergency landing.” You groan, recalling your annoyance when the captain announced this over the speakers.

“Ah so you just got in today? I got into York New about a week ago. What are you here for?” 

Your eyes travel to his and you notice that they’re unusually large while seeming to only make him more attractive. “I’m on a work trip, though I shouldn’t be here long.”  His lips stretch a little further into something of a grin, “What a coincidence, I’m here on business as well.” 

The elevator dings and you give a quick goodbye, not necessarily because you didn’t like talking to him but because you wanted to take a nice warm shower. You sashay out of the elevator, and the back of your neck tingles, you can tell that his eyes are boring into your back.

You drop your bag onto your bed and wander over to the mirror. Looking at you in the mirror is yourself. Though you never seem to recognize this person as you. You pose in different angles but can’t find one that makes you like yourself. You grab the chub of your stomach and groan hopelessly. A world renown hunter who has killed the unkillable is staring at herself in the mirror and grimacing. You remind yourself that you’re one of the strongest specialists out there and you shouldn’t be critiquing yourself. 

A day passed and your deadline is growing nearer. You draw your outfit for the day, and put on the jeans, hoodie, and heels that were super comfortable thanks to your nen. An assassin has to look good as well as kill. Your rented car waits for you in the hotel garage and when you finally make your way down there, you do a onceover of the car. There are no signs of foul play, tracking, or marking so you hop into the drivers seat comfortably. Once the car is started your phone buzzes. 

+ $2000 to your account message attached: get his pass for the auction and send it to client

You nod to yourself, you had completely forgotten about the auction. Of course you were supposed to kill a member of the mafia during the auction. How could you not have made that connection. While you are intelligent, you wouldn’t say you’re smart. Once you arrive at the hotel your target is staying at, you book a room despite the fact you will not be using it for long. In the hotel room you draw a dress that makes you look like a model, all you need is to look good and your nen for this mission, this goes for most missions.

Each minute on the clock seems to last hours, you need to leave at 01:30, in order to complete your mission at 2. This is the part you hate the most, laying on the hotel bed listening to the clock tick and tick and tick. It feels almost like the clock is mocking you, and sometimes you want to just break it. Though despite this you lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, counting down every minute until the clock strikes 1:30. 

The last mocking tick sound rings and you get up quickly. Walking confidently out of the room and down the large and foolishly elegant hall. You make your way to the elevators where you had a run in with that man and go down to the second floor seeing as you were residing on the fourteenth. The second floor was reserved for the mafia only, many families used this hotel to be near the auction. 

The elevator opens up and you examine the hall. It is much different than the one where your room is. Lights are dimmer and the color pallet of the hall was that of red and black where as yours was blue and white. You step out onto the marble floors and your heels click against the cold surface. Something’s not right. Something is very wrong, very out of place. You can smell it. The smell of blood. 

207 is closer to the end of the hallway than it is to the elevators. The lights are completely off at the end of the hallway as well. With each step towards the room of your target the lights get dimmer until there is no light. You halt and look at the room with gold numbers on it stating ‘207′. The door is cracked and you approach it cautiously. You push the door open and see your target laying on the ground in hundreds of pieces, it’s a bloody mess.

A man stands in front of the window that is the entire wall, his form dark. Now the only sound present is that of the rain pounding against the glass of the window. He turns towards you, and you quickly recognize the large fur jacket. It’s the man from the elevator, his coat is open and he’s shirtless, but covered in blood. His forehead is uncovered by the bandage that was on him previously, revealing a purple cross. His demeanor is still friendly and inviting but something is different about his eyes. 

He smiles and for some reason you feel drawn to him, so you take a step forward. “I’ve been waiting y/n.” 

You swallow any sense of fear you have and nod, “Oh you have?” 

“Of course, I thought I would make your job easier for you.” He chuckles just like he did in the elevator, as if he didn’t just commit an atrocity. But who are you to judge? “Don’t worry, I’ll still be paying you every jenny of what was promised.” 

Your head cocks to the side “So you’re my client?” He nods in response. 

“And I got his pass to the auction so I would say you did a pretty good job of completing your mission.” He waves the pass at you as proof. 

“Can I have the pleasure of knowing your name since you know mine?” You question.

He nods again, “Chrollo is my name. You were commissioned by the spiders.” 

The spiders... It quickly clicks in your head. The phantom troupe. Which means, in front of you stands the leader of the Phantom Troupe.

“It’s nice to meet you Chrollo.” 

[tangledstarlight]

with you i’d dance in a storm in my best dress

this is a super month delayed prompt from @ourstarscollided (”holding hands while running through the rain” for our favourite soulmates, Julie and Luke!”) i will accept the super late fees, this is way over the 3-5 businesses days I promised ghfj anyway! mhwa enjoy 💜

julie and luke go on a first date, it really is as simple as that.

(also on ao3, here)

The day that Luke had asked her out, Julie spilt half her coffee on his shoes and the other half on her maths homework. In her head the conversation had gone a little like this:

“Hey Julie do you uh, wanna go see the new How to Train Your Dragon with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds cool. Reggie loves those films.”

“Oh I uh, mean just–– just me. You and me. Us. Just. The two of us.”

“Like –– a date?”

“Yeah?”

And then she’d knocked her cup over. Coffee spreading across the library table and onto Luke’s shoes and seeping into the carpet. Their school librarian had come storming over at Julie’s loud exclamation and ushered them both out of the building with a glare.

In reality there had been a lot of awkward pausing and wide eyed staring and Luke rubbing at the back of his neck as he waited for her to answer and then mumbled apologies and burning cheeks.

So, it was worse. For her at least.

But she prefers the version in her head with the lack of stuttering and blushing, so that’s what she tells Flynn an hour later as she lies on her bed, phone pressed to her ear as she stares at her fairy lights.

“So? What did you say?” Flynn’s voice filters through the phone and Julie can practically hear the giddy edge to it.

“I uh—” she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip as her mind flashes back to them standing in the parking lot of the school, Julie trying to shove coffee stained sheets of paper into her bag and Luke cringing at the squelching sound his shoes made with every step.

He had opened his mouth to say something — Julie doesn’t know what, because her heart and brain had finally caught up by then and where on the same page as she blurted out a, “Yes! To the uh, the movie. And the— the date. If—if that’s still—”

“No! I mean, yes, I mean yeah I—” he stuttered, sucking in a breath before smiling at her, shy and sweet. “Yes I still want to. Have to do worse than spill coffee on my shoes to scare me off, Molina.” And he’d bitten his bottom lip slightly as he’d laughed, and Julie had blushed a little more at the earnest tone in his voice.

“I said yes,” she whispers into the phone, because a part of her is still sitting in the library thinking she’s completely misheard him and doesn’t want to pop this little bubble quite yet.

“Jules!” Flynn squeals and Julie has to pull her phone away from her ear a little to avoid permanent damage, “You’re going on a date with Luke! This is big. This is huge. Okay, what time are you meeting him? We have to find you the perfect outfit and I need a time scale here.”

She lets the bubble pop, lets Flynn’s excitement stoke her own until she’s off her bed and rooting through her wardrobe and making plans for what time Flynn should come over tomorrow to help her get ready. By the time they say goodbye and hang up, Julie is smiling and barely containing her excitement.

Because see, she’s kind of had a huge massive crush on Luke since they were kids. It had come and gone over the years — seeing him shove two whole slices of pizza in his mouth at the age of eleven had done a lot to kill the crush for a while. But then it was freshman year and he’d run into music class late with the biggest smile on his face as he declared he’d finally perfected part of his guitar solo for their assignment. Don’t ask Julie why that had been the moment the crush came back in full force, because she doesn’t know.

They’d always sort of been friends, the way you’re sort of friends with everyone you’ve known since kindergarten, where you’ve been to all their birthday parties and know all the cheesy roles they’ve played in school plays. Julie doesn’t know when they went from being casual friends who said hi in the hallway to being friends and talking everyday.

(That’s not strictly true, Julie knows it happened sometime between her mom dying and music sounding like roaring in her ears and almost being kicked from the music program and the boys joining her on stage without hesitation to help her keep her place. If she really had to pinpoint it, it would be the day he found her crying at a piano in an unused music room and had closed the blinds, locked the door and just sat with her.)

She knows that there’s been— moments over the last few months. Moments where she catches him looking at her, moments where she swears he blushes when she looks at him, moments where their hugs have lasted just a few seconds too long. But Julie hadn’t ever really thought they meant anything. At least not to him. (To her they meant a lot.)

Because he was Luke, with his charming smile and sleeveless shirts and rockstar image, and she was just Julie and they were just friends and why would he ever look at her as anything else?

All she knows is that now they were juniors and in a band and best friends and he’d asked her out on a date.

Julie collapses onto her bed, head hitting her pillows and hair flying into her face as the thought hits her fully, “Holy shit,” she whispers, clutching a pillow to her chest and finally, finally lets a giddy smile take over her face.

She’s going on a date with Luke Patterson and it’s utterly terrifying. He’s one of her best friends, what happens if it goes terribly? Do they have to stop being friends? Do they enter an awkward few months where they don’t know how to act around each other? Oh god maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe she should text him and fake an illness. Maybe chicken pox, the chances of him remembering her having them when she was nine have got to be pretty low.

But, he’d asked her out with that silly little nervous habit of rubbing at the back of his neck and there’s been all the little moments over the last fews months and — it’s Luke. Julie blows out a breath and raises her pillow a little higher to tuck under her chin.

She’s going to go on a date with Luke and it’s terrifying, but it’s the kind of terrifying she feels whenever she gets up on a stage by herself to perform a new song. It’s the kind of terrifying that fills her with excitement too. She decides to focus on the excitement. 

//

Julie manages to push aside all her worries and fears and nerves all day and most of the afternoon when Flynn shows up, lunch in one hand and make up bag in the other. She even manages to forget about it when she’s holding her hair up and letting it drop back down her back, eyebrows raised at Flynn as they try to decide what to do with it. She manages to forget all about her fears as they deliberate between a dress or jeans and argue over what’s considered more casual.

And then Flynn leaves with an air kiss and a thumbs up and Julie is left at the top of the stairs tucking her hair behind her ears and pulling it back as she tilts her head at herself in the mirror. Objectively Julie knows she’s okay looking, knows that her family has always told her she’s beautiful and that Flynn hadn’t even hesitated to say she looked gorgeous before leaving.

But well, they had to say stuff like that. They were her family. Luke was...Julie didn’t know what Luke was right now, but she knew he was important — now and forever — and maybe it made her shallow but she wanted him to think she looked pretty.

Her nerves don't set back in until there’s a knock at her door and Carlos is running for it before she can stop him.

“Luke,” is all she can hear from the top of the stairs, and though Carlos is blocking most of her view she can just make out the cuffs of jeans and a pair of vans. She wonders if they’re still squeaking when he walks.

“Hey Carlos can I—” the sound of Luke’s voice sends a flurry of butterflies into her stomach and she sucks in a breath to try and settle her nerves. Why is she even nervous? It’s Luke! They’ve hung out hundreds of times before, they’re friends, they’re going on a date. Oh god. Okay.

Julie brushes her hands down the skirt of her dress and blows out a breath as she looks at herself in the mirror one last time. They’re just going for food and to see a movie. Something they’ve done hundreds of times before. It’s casual. It’s why she’d opted to wear her favourite sneakers instead of the heels Flynn has dug out of her closet. It’s a date, but it’s a casual date. As long as she keeps telling herself that she’ll be fine.

“Get it together,” she whispers to herself, tucking a curl behind her ear and nodding once. She can do this.

It’s just Luke.

She stops halfway down the stairs at the sight of her dad and brother talking to Luke in the doorway. Luke, who’s wearing a dark blue button down and jeans without rips and–– oh god he’s bought her flowers. Either she makes a noise or he’d been glancing up at the stairs because he’s looking at her, eyes a little wide with a soft smile that makes heat rush to her cheeks. Ducking her head, Julie descends the last few steps until she’s stood in front of him, her dad and brother stepping back to watch them. Fuck.

“You look—”

“—are those—”

They both start at the same time and Julie giggles while Luke rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“You look really nice and um—” he hesitates, eyes briefly glancing over her shoulder where she can only assume her family are watching this awkwardness unfold. “These are for you.”

He holds the flowers out towards her, a collection of pale purples and bright yellows, and if she had time right now she’d try to name each of them. But she can feel her dad and brother still watching them and there’s a red flush starting to show up on Luke’s cheekbones.

They really need to get out of her house before one of them turns totally red.

“Thank you they’re… they’re really pretty,” she turns around, handing the flowers to her dad and quickly turning back, picking her purse and phone up from the table by the door, “Can you put them in water for me please? Okay, bye!”

They make it through the door and almost to the porch steps before her dad is at the door calling out to them, “No later than 10:30!”

“I know dad!”

An awkward silence falls over them as they walk to his car and Julie tries desperately to come up with something to say, finally blurting out, “You’re wearing sleeves.”

Her hands wave at his shoulders and biceps covered in fabric. Julie’s not sure when the last time was that she’d seen his arms so covered. Maybe the winter showcase last year when Reggie had said they needed to dress up and forced him into a suit jacket. But that hadn’t been voluntary.

“My mom said I couldn’t go on a date with my shoulders showing. Apparently it would be rude?” He phrases it like a question, an eyebrow raised as he looks at her, as if she’d have an opinion on his bare shoulders being rude or not. She didn’t know date etiquette. Was it rude?

“I wouldn’t have been personally offended by them,” she shrugs, shooting him a small smile and feeling grateful when he laughs.

This is fine, they’re going to be fine. They just have to get over this awkward start and weirdly charged silences. Maybe it was a good job they were seeing a movie first, no chance for awkward conversation as they tried to find their footing. Julie blows out a breath and smiles up at him.

“So, how annoyed is Reggie that we’re seeing this without him?”

And it's like every other time they've hung out, only her fingers keep brushing against his and he keeps looking at her shyly from the corner of his eye while he drives. Its the same but it's different but Julie thinks it's maybe a good kind of different.

//

By the time they leave the movie theatre, hands brushing as they walk side by side, Julie’s feeling a little more settled in their date. Or a little more settled in herself at least.

Settled in the shy glances and shared popcorn and the way Luke had left his hand palm up on the arm rest between them and she’d felt brave enough during the second half of the film to lay hers on top.

She was feeling that much more confident about their date that, as they walked towards the entrance talking about the film, she was seconds away from closing the gap between their brushing hands and linking their fingers together. Which is of course when they both notice it’s raining.

In LA. Which, well Julie doesn’t know if she believes in signs or omens, but she’s pretty sure this classes as one. And she's not sure if it's a good or bad one.

“Fuck,” Luke mutters as he looks outside at the falling rain before looking down at her, a small furrow between his brows. The two of them both clearly remembering how he’d parked six blocks away because it was cheaper. And how neither of them have a coat or a jacket or even a bag worth holding over her hair.

“Guess we’re going to have to run,” she shrugs, shooting him a quick smile before making sure her phone is stashed safely in her purse.

“Or we could wait it out?”

“What? Scared of a little rain?” she teases, eyebrow quirked as she looks up at him.

“No,” he huffs out a laugh, one hand coming up to tug playfully at one of her curls letting it stretch out before springing back, his hand left hovering next to her shoulder, “But your hair?”

Her eyes soften a little as she shrugs one shoulder — and maybe it’s the one under his hand, and maybe she only does it so his palm and fingers will brush against the exposed skin of where her neck meets shoulder and maybe she stands a little awkwardly to prolong that concat. It’s all maybes. There’s no proof that’s why she does it — and smiles, “I was going to wash it tomorrow anyway. Come on Patterson, I bet if we run fast enough we can dodge the raindrops.”

“Not to sound like Alex but I don’t think that’s possible,” he bites his bottom lip slightly as he laughs and if she was feeling a little braver right now, Julie thinks she might have kissed him. But she’s not feeling brave enough for that. “You sure you don’t want to wait it out?”

“You ready to run?” She asks instead, turning towards the doors and holding her hand out to him. Maybe she’s not brave enough to kiss him, but holding his hand as they run through the rain? That feels doable.

She wiggles her fingers up at him a dare, a challenge, a question, all wrapped up together as she waits to see if he’ll take her hand. And she only has to wait a heartbeat before his palm is slapping down on hers, fingers slotting between each other and he’s tugging her towards the door.

“Oh I’m ready to run. I’m not sure you’re ready to keep up.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before he’s pulling open the door and Julie is squealing as the first drops of rain hit her head and splash against her bare shins.

“Thought you knew how to dodge raindrops,” Luke teases as he pulls her along and Julie squeezes his hand before tugging him towards a puddle in the pavement to kick water up at him.

The indigent squeak of protest that leaves his lips makes her laugh in response, that only grows at the pout on his lips as he pulls at their joint hands until she has to stumble away from the puddle and into his side. And Luke lifts his arm until she gets the idea of ducking under it until her back is against his front and his arms wrap around her waist, picking her up off the ground and laughing into her hair at the startled squeak she makes, fingers cold even through her dress as he carries her away from the puddle with a huff of breath in her ear. “Oh I’m going to get you back for that.”

She doesn’t doubt him, and is kind of giddy in her excitement about what he might do. There’s something about the rain falling around them and the way it makes the empty streets and parking lots look that makes her forget she was ever worried in the first place.

Because she’s Julie and he’s Luke and she forgets sometimes, that things that are supposed to be scary are easy with him. The first time she sang after her mom, the first time she drove without her dad, the first time she snuck out her bedroom window. She feels like she can do anything as long as he’s by her side. She feels pretty fearless.

The second her feet hit the ground again she turns around his arms, trailing her own cold fingers up his wrists and forearms to circle around his biceps, tucking her fingers under the hems of his shirts sleeves and chooses to decide the shiver that runs through him is due to the rain that’s starting to slow around them and not the way she’s starting tracing idle patterns into his warm skin.

“How are you going to get me back?” She whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at him. At the way the rain has plastered his hair across his forehead, at how his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes and back again.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he says softly and she feels his fingers flex against her back and Julie definitely can’t blame the shiver that runs through her on the rain or the cold air because while they’ve been staring at each other it’s stopped raining and now they’re just standing in a parking lot in each other arms.

If it wasn’t quickly becoming her favourite place she might feel a little more embarrassed.

“Jules,” he whispers and she’s momentarily distracted by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she almost misses his next words, “I uh I had a plan. We were going to have a picnic in that park you like? But I— well. I didn’t plan for the rain.”

She blinks at him, pulling her thoughts away from his lips and how they’d feel against hers and back to the moment and— a laugh bubbles past her lips, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as she lets his words fully register. She can feel a chuckle rumble through him where she’s pressed against his chest and his fingers dig slightly into her sides.

“In my defence, it’s LA. No one ever plans for rain,” he mutters into her hair and that makes her laugh again.

Pulling back just enough to look at his face she shakes her head at him, ignoring the way droplets of water fall down her back from her hair as teases him, “Wow and here was me thinking you’d prepared for everything.”

“If you don’t hold it against me I promise to prepare for rain for our next date,” Luke says it casually, but his fingers have started tapping lightly on her back and his eyes are wide and hopeful, looking so much like he had the day before that Julie can’t stop the smile that pulls at her lips.

“If you don’t show up with umbrellas and raincoats I’ll never trust you again,” even as she says the words she knows they’re a lie. Julie’s pretty sure there’s no one she trusts more. Fingers tapping against his biceps she offers, “We can eat in your car?”

“Mhm sounds like a plan,” he agrees but makes no move to let her go and she doesn’t do anything to move away either. He looks like he’s working himself up to something and it's then that Julie realises that he’s just as nervous about this as she is and that if she has to wait for Luke to make the first move they might be standing here for a long time.

So she lets that feeling of fearlessness from earlier flood back in, lets her fingers slide out from under his sleeves and wrap around his neck, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes until they’re almost eye to eye. Their height differences has never been so obvious to her as it is right now and she can’t decide if she likes it or wishes she’d worn the heels.

“Luke?” she whispers.

“Yeah?” his breath blows across her lips and she’s so close she can almost hear the way he swallows.

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

Julie doesn’t realise she’s been holding her breath until it wooshes out of her when he pulls her even closer with one arm around her waist and the other traveling to cup the back of her head as his lips finally touch hers. It’s messy and rushed and wet with rain, but Luke’s lips are soft and careful until she pulls herself up just a little higher and can deepen it. Teeth catching and lips pulling into smiles and soft groans as she scratches lightly at his scalp. 

She’s kissed boys before, pecks on the lips and a disastrous seven minutes in a closet with Nick last year and an awkward first date with one of the boys from her maths class who had transferred the next year. None of them had been perfect or great or even good and she’d wondered if it was her. If she was the bad kisser.

But standing in an almost empty parking lot with the street lights reflecting off the wet tarmac with Luke’s arms around her, holding her, his lips chasing after hers as she pulls away to breathe? It’s imperfect and perfect and everything she never knew she’d been missing.

“That was—”

“—god you’re beautiful, did I tell you that earlier?”

Luke’s words cut her off as he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth, to just under her ear, to her jaw.

“I—” but she doesn’t know how to finish her sentence, a furrow between her brows as she leans back a little in his arms so she can see his face, shaking her head with a small laugh, “I’m soaked through with rain and my hair is a total mess. I don’t think beautiful is the right word here.”

“Bullshit,” he states, the hand that had been holding the back of her head, fingers tangled in wet curls, comes around to cup her cheek, calloused thumb brushing across her cheekbone once, twice, as his eyes roam around her face before focusing sorely on her eyes. “You’re the most beautiful person in any room or parking lot or space on earth. In the whole universe. Rain soaked hair doesn’t change that.”

“Oh,” is all she can get out as a blush rushes into her cheeks and she knows that Luke notices because his thumb strokes against it again and his lips pull up into a half smile that she knows means he’s about to say something incredibly dumb that will ruin the incredibly sweet moment. So she leans forward and presses her lips against his before he gets the chance.

//

They drape the blanket Luke had bought for the picnic across the back seat of his car and try their best to get dry without losing any clothing or soaking the seats. He pulls out a basket from the trunk filled with her favourite soda and slightly squashing sandwiches and cookies she knows his mom must have helped him bake and unevenly sliced carrot sticks that scream of Reggie throwing them in at the last minute. Luke passes her the aux cord and she skips through a playlist until she finds something she likes and they let his terrible car radiator try to warm them up while they eat their picnic. Though really it’s his arm around her shoulders and his hand covering her knee and her fingers trailing up and down his arm that do most of the warming up.

At 10:25 he walks her up to her front door, biting at his bottom lip as he bounces on the balls of his feet and glancing from the door to her and back again.

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. For band practice,” Luke says, his eyes still going from the door to her and back again and it’s starting to make her a little dizzy.

“Mhm,” she mumbles, taking a half step towards him, hoping it’ll keep his eyes in one place. Which they do. On her lips. And she doesn’t even try to stop the smile that pulls at them when she realises it. Pushing up on to her tiptoes again she kisses him once, quickly, sweetly and starts to step away. She only makes it as far as lifting one foot up before Luke is wrapping a hand around her waist to pull her back to him, lips moving together in a way that’s different from the kisses they’ve already shared. When he pulls away to breathe she presses a kiss to his cheek and finally manages to step away while he’s looking a little stunned. “Text me when you get home okay? I’ll see you tomorrow Luke.”

She opens her front door and slips inside before she can change her mind and stand on her front pouch kissing him all night. Because she could do that. Spend a whole night just kissing him. Julie presses her fingers to her lips as a giddy smile takes over her face, twitching aside the curtain that covers the window next to the door in time to see Luke getting into his car and driving away.

For their next date three days later they go to the arcade by the pier, and she doesn’t even care about the odd looks everyone around them shoots their way at the peeling laughter that erupts out of her when he pulls a bright yellow umbrella out of the trunk of his car with a wink.

[howlingday]

nora the arc au) being in beacon two years early is one thing, it happens from time to time. but nora and jaune are officially not part of beacon but it's protectors lord and lady arc.

turns out nora's really good at being a queen of a castle. with her boundless energy and off the wall imagination she soon has the tower turning a profit due to her ideas on what she calls a food forest (nora: it's really simple jaune-jaune I made a forest that is 100% edible ... except the workers, don't eat the workers glynda might not let us borrow any more students if we do)

meanwhile jaune makes a simple rule known to the upper class of vale. you can insult him all you like, but say something about nora and he will end your entire noble house and laugh as your world crumbles around you.

... so things are going great for the new lord and lady protector of house arc (hope you have fun with evil jaune. letting the guy cut loose is always fun for me)

Meanwhile, in an Alternate Universe...

Jaune sat upon his throne, yawning as more bootlickers and doormats entered, seeking political support and favors, knowing full well his task was the protection of Beacon. Nothing more, nothing less. He eyed the crowd, noting their range from the very old to the very thin to the very lame. Each was a servant of another, sent to suck up for another's sake.

"Alright, people, you know the drill," Cardin Winchester shouted to the crowd, "line up in alphabetical order, and Lord Arc will see to your request." Jaune nodded for Cardin to step back. He didn't care for him at first, but after he proved himself a capable leader and a trustworthy ally, Jaune grew to respect the young man.

He almost pitied the rest of his team was assigned to his wife today.

The first was an elderly man speaking on behalf of some wealthy bank owner in Vale, asking for his support in funding their security. When Jaune asked where Beacon fit into this, the poor man didn't have an answer. Well, not an answer that satisfied him.

Next was a young man half his age. He was sent on behalf of his mother's bakery, asking for more time for the lady's Sunday order. When asked why, the boy responded his sister fell ill. When asked how the boy arrived, he replied he had to sneak onto the back of a carriage. He noticed one of the sycophants in the back grousing something along the lines of, 'I knew it!' Jaune waved the boy closer and hand handed the boy a small pouch of Lien. He then told him to find the Lady of the Tower, possibly in the Garden. The boy ran off, his face alight.

Jaune's smile lasted a whole ten seconds until the next servant came forward and opened his trap. Why did he have to conduct business after lunch?

The Garden was a vast forest tended to by the Lady of the Tower, Nora Arc. She was, in a manner of speaking, an eccentric woman. She suggested creating a hybrid of Forever Fall's sap trees crossed with Mistralian sweetbark trees.

After two months of research, the first row was planted, and the following summer, Forever Sweet sap was made into candies and used as ingredients in Vale's countless bakeries.

Nora smelled the spring flowers as she laid against her favorite tree. Russell, Dove, and Lark sat nearby, playing cards. Russell was winning, resulting in Dove and Lark to gang up on him. When Dove or Lark won, they were assumed to be cheating as well, and thus a new truce would be born of the betrayal. Nora didn't care, so long as she wasn't disturbed.

"Hey!" Lark called out. Nora opened an eye and saw a little boy running to her. Lark leveled his weapon. "Halt!"

"Put that thing down, Lunk!" Nora chided. "He's just a boy."

As Lark lowered his weapon with a blush, the boy stopped in front of Nora. "M'Lady," the boy squealed, "I 'ave ba' news fo' ya."

"Oh, why do the cute ones always bring bad news?"

"My sista' too' ill, an' we won' ma' thi' Sun'ay su'uh!"

"Hm, that is bad news." Nora hummed in thought, before snapping her finger. "Did my husband send you?" The boy nodded, and held up a small pouch. Nora cooed. "Oh, he's always so good with children. He's so kind and sweet." Nora stood up, and extended her hand. "Come with me; we'll help you get home, right, boys?" The three murmured in hesitant agreement. "I'll make you a deal: you go home and help your mommy take care of your sister, and I'll only ask for twice my usual sweets next Sunday, and then you can have the next Sunday off."

The boy took her hand. "Thank'u, m'lady! You're too kin'!"

"No, my husband is the one who's too kind. Why, I doubt he could harm a living soul if he tried. That is the man I married; the Lord of the Watchtower, Jaune Arc the Kind!"

Blood dripped down Jaune's elbow as he held the beaten man by his jaw. People were frightened, screams muffled by others who knew well to not escalate the situation further. Cardin stood close, eyeing the crowd for any further agression.

Jaune breathed to calm himself. Even he prayed this would work to soothe himself. He looked at the man again; he was a faunus, with black rabbit ears. On the ground was the knife he held, untouched by blood. Based on the broken mask on his face, the man was a member of the White Fang.

"Who sent you?" Jaune asked.

"Y-Your mother." Jaune sighed. He shifted his hands, freeing his right and using his left to grab the man's collar. Jaune raised his fist.

"Who are you?"

"We are the price of the Faunus Wars." Jaune gritted his teeth. He struck him once with his right, striking his cheek. The man spit out teeth.

"The Faunus Wars ended over a century ago. I want a name!"

"Nora Valkyrie." Jaune froze. Cardin froze. Everyone froze with bated breath. Anyone who knew Lord Jaune Arc knew a statement using his wife's name ended one of two ways.

Jaune loosed a breath. "I said-"

A raspy chuckle interrupted him. "She's such a good, little whore, ain't-"

Nora returned to the throne room from the stables, where she saw off the boy and his two bodyguards. She was accompanied by the remaining Russell, who quickly reunited with his team leader.

Cardin's armored breastplate was caked in blood. He also had a black eye, with a bruise on his accompanying cheek. He waved it off as if it were nothing.

The guests of the court left, business concluded for the day. Quite early as well. Jaune sat slumped in his chair.

"Jaune?" Nora inquired. "Are you okay?"

Jaune waved at the issue with his bloodied hand. His chest-plate and entire torso was more blood than garment. There were servants scrubbing blood around him.

"What happened?" Nora drew closer.

"It's nothing to worry about, Nora, I-"

A slap thundered in the throne room. All eyes fell on the Lord and Lady of the Tower. The Lord in question had a red-mark on his face, and his head was turned as though struck by a hammer. The Lady stood over him, arm extended as she huffed. She then grabbed him by his collar.

"What?!" She roared in his face, hers red as a tomato. "Happened?!"

"I killed a man, my Lady."

"Why?!" Her husband did not answer. She turned to Cardin. "Winchester! Who died?! Who was this man?!"

Cardin gulped before speaking. "We didn't know his name, but he was a White Fang assassin. He attacked Lord Arc."

"So you killed a man, a Faunus no less, because you were about to be assassinated?" Nora turned her frustration back to her husband. "Or am I missing something?"

"He insulted you." Nora dropped him.

"Everyone out of the throne room!" She screeched. Everyone slowly made their way out. "Now!"

The throne room was empty in record time. Nora huffed, facing away from Jaune. "So, what now?" Jaune didn't respond. Nora turned to him again. "Well?"

"I don't know." Jaune replied. "Someone tried to kill me. Used your name to provoke me. I just don't understand why."

"Yes, you do." Nora said. She stepped forward, and sat on her husband's lap. She stroked his hair, and spoke softly. "Who attacked you?"

"The White Fang." Jaune replied. He held her close and inhaled her scent. "Those terrorists never liked humans, but they usually leave us alone. Why now, and why just one man?"

Nora brought his head up and kissed his forehead. "You know why." She trailed down. "What makes him different from everyone else?"

"He was a Faunus." Jaune replied, kissing her lips. He pressed himself further in, roaming her body with his hands. "People won't see a murder, they'll see a hate crime."

"Exactly." Nora pulled from the kiss to chew on his lower lip. She stopped and started panting. "And who has the most to lose from this?" Jaune opened his mouth, but Nora put a finger to his lips. "Shh... Not here. We'll continue this upstairs. For now..." Nora stood up and straightened herself. "Guards!" Guards arrived posthaste. "Send word to Beacon, The Watchtower will be closed to the public. Especially the Faunus." The guards were hesitant until Nora waved them away.

"Actively banning Faunus?" Jaune asked. "Is that wise?"

"You didn't stop me, did you?"

"No." Jaune replied. "No, I didn't. If the White Fang was to wage war against us, then we'll give them a war." Jaune rose from his throne. "But first," he grabbed his wife from behind and sucked upon her neck, "I need you to stop clouding my mind."

Nora stepped away, leading Jaune upstairs with a giggle. "Then come upstairs, my Lord, so we can clear your mind."

Russell and Cardin sat outside the Tower. "So, uh," Russell began, "are we waiting for the other two?"

Cardin nodded. "And for this to heal." He pointed to his eye, with was less bruised. "I'm not getting Lord Arc in more trouble than he already is."

[superworldunkown]

G-Unit

AN: I was so excited to see my ‘Wash Day’ and ‘Hair Dare You’ stories get to 100 likes! It makes my heart, and my kinky, curly, coily, hair so full! <3 So, in continuation of all things Black Hair, I came up with this one right after my new unit came in the mail. 

Summary: You can’t be stopped when you put your mind to it, despite how much Class-1 A tries. But when Mineta gets a little too creative...heads - and hairs will roll. Bakugou x Black Reader (Mans loves his Melanin) 

It was Tuesday, and that meant, practice day! Your favorite day of the week. Putting hero students in their place. How could you not love it?

Recently, General Studies students trained with the Hero course students; it was unfortunate that since All Might’s retiring that villain attacks were on the rise, but better for the entire student population as everyone knew some general self defense tips and tricks. It also gave the hero students some additional training. You were delighted by it. Even though you were a general studies student, your focus was on hero psychology and trauma support, and up until this point you rarely had some live heroes to study and look after. And, Class 1-A was notorious for having unique quirks, and even more unique personalities.

To top it off, you were Hella competitive, even the soon to be heroes couldn’t keep up. Today’s practice was similar to the last few weeks, dodge and evade. General Studies and Hero Studies students were split into two groups. The task was simple, Offensive teams had get to the other side of the Battle Training Grounds. Defensive teams had to stop the offense in their path. You loved this game. You were a natural zig-zagging, dip dodging destroyer on the course. Teams would get delighted when you were on their side, and pissed when you weren’t. Bakugou even cracked a ‘hmph’ of approval when you were assigned to his team at the beginning of training. 

You couldn’t help it, you were a little smitten by the aggressive little demon. Something about his outward pride and boisterous attitude always made your heart skip a beat. He was a rather curious student, and your analytical side was also fascinated. Also, the mans was very, very good looking in his hero uniform. Even if he screamed at you for being a ‘reckless idiot’, you’d let him save your ass any day. 

Point Being, it was a real treat being paired up with Bakugou.

You two always had weird energy around each other. Mina - The matchmaker as she liked to call herself, would often send you text messages between classes with ‘facts’ that Bakugou was into you:

‘Sis! Bakugou called you by your REAL NAME today in class when he and Kirishima were talking about joint training...he did follow it with ‘is sucha slowpoke’ but TRUST me, its a sign!’ 

“Oi! You gonna keep starin’ or get movin’?!” Bakugou called a few feet ahead of you. His gauntlets lit as he zoomed past Sero and Mineta on the defensive team. 

You smirked, dodging a flash of white tape, “Hah! Not all of us have the advantage of a quirk, let alone high ground, BoomKat.”

“And Stop calling me that!” He retorted. 

“Huh? I can’t hear you over the victory speech I’m rehearsing in my head. Once again Y/N, undefeated in the joint training courses. A victory of eleven to -” 

Before you could finish your rather ill time victory speech, your body careened to a metal wall, hitting you with an extra sting. Now you were pissed. With determined eyes you tried to throw your body into motion you were slammed back towards the wall by a sticky stubborn force.

“See if you try to get outta that one m’lady.” 

Oh...you knew that voice. That dreadful, nasally, shrilly, perverted voice. Mineta stood in front of you, the purple balls atop his head wiggling with excitement. 

You turned to the side, noticing your long, beautiful, EXPENSIVE box braids were currently held against the wall by several infamous purple orbs. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you cross the finish line,” Mineta spoke, “Yaoyorozu and Uraraka are on my team, and if we win...maybe they’ll let me in on a victory hug! So don’t move...not that you can anyways.” He finished with a laugh.

The sound of your angry screams sent shockwaves throughout the training grounds. Mineta got the hint, and scurried off towards the finish line.

Now you were pissed. Just like your crush (dare you say it) you had a bit of an ego and you didn't’ like to lose. But, you didn’t like the only solution that came to your mind. You just paid for this unit! It was brand, fucking new! 

“You better run, Mineta.” Your eyes were practically glowing as you reached towards the tip of your fake hairline, tugging at the lace. 

“Where the hell is Y/N?!” Bakugou barked from across the finish line.

“I don't know, I thought she was right behind you.” Mina answered while staring at the training field, “It’s not like her to be this late.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about her Pinky.” Mineta let out a small laugh, “She got a little caught up in my sticky ba-”

“BASTARD!!” Mineta had barely any time to protect himself as you burst across the finish ling in a flying kick, punting the small boys body into the air and directly into a water tower. 

Everyone stared at you as you huffed in anger, catching your breath. Sweat pooling down your wig cap and onto your forehead. 

“Umm,” Kaminari spoke softly and nervously, “Y/N...what happened to your hair?”

“That was a 3,400 Yen, fresh out the box unit you perverted asshole!” You screamed to towards the water tower, “You owe me a brand new one by this time tomorrow or I’ll cut off every single one of your sticky balls in your sleep! All of them!” 

Your turned your head towards the rest of the students, all of them, even Bakugou, jolting upright at your angry glare, “Tokoyami, give me your cape, NOW!”

The dark prince whipped off the black fabric faster than the night itself. You quickly whipped the fabric around your head into a semi decent hair wrap and stormed off before anyone could question you, not that they wanted to.

“What just happened?” Kaminari asked, still confused and terrified.

Mina let out a low whistle, “Mineta messed with her wig? Damn, he should be lucky he’s still breathing right now. Alright, let’s draw straws on whose getting him out.” 

Bakugou stared at the carnage you left behind and then back towards you. Damn, you were ambitious, scary, and strong? To some, you were a nightmare. 

But to him, you were a dream.