#But I also want him broken down and suffering so he can be held close and smothered in love by the ones who care about him

[pianokantzart]

Who’s ur fav character and why is it Luigi (only correct answer wink wink)

Okay listen, LISTEN... I love underdogs, but not just regular underdogs, I want true underdogs! I want the ones who are considered last choice amongst a large cast of underdogs. Socially awkward? Check!

Often pigeonholed as "dumb" or "goofy"? Check!

A tendency to latch onto someone else due to a lack of trust in themselves? Check!

A heart of gold despite it all? A natural tendency to prioritize the needs/desires of loved ones above their own? Double check!

Add on top of this the crippling anxiety! Luigi knows where he stands in the grand scheme of things, he knows that at the end of the day he's a just a simple plumber who is not meant to fight giant fire-breathing turtle monsters and ghost kings! 99% of the time he just wants a hot cup of tea, a good book and a nap!

But doggone it, he fastens his overalls and does the right thing when the chips are down! With every bone in his body trembling and every braincell in his head screaming "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS" he pulls himself together and does it out of love! Luigi's the reluctant hero who is eternally reluctant, but that just makes him all the more lovable! Everything is working against him, even his own instincts. Nothing comes easy for him, and yet every step of the way he's trying his very hardest to do well by those he cares about!

It's just... aaaahhh it's so GOOD man.

[pretzel-box]

Hi! Hello! How are you doing? I hope you're having a great day. This is the first time I requested something so pls bare with me. So I really like the swap!Sebastian and swap!/payment received reader, so can I request a second part where Sebastian bought readers file and maybe some fluff and comfort, that'd be soooo cute and what comes next is up to you.

Anyways thanks for taking your time in reading this and it's also okay if you ignore this😊😊😊

Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Reverse AU, gn! experiment reader & human sebastian, sequel to previous chapter

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Since the story progresses differently, I tried to at least write the fluff and comfort part after Seb saw the tapes!

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to break down like this, not here, not in front of you. He had always prided himself on being composed, on having a plan. But those tapes… the sight of what you had gone through—the screams, the agony, the helplessness���it had torn through him like a knife. He didn’t know how to cope with the knowledge of your suffering, and now, here you were, laughing so freely, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his heart.

“Ah, there you are!” Your cheerful voice had greeted him when he walked into the shop, his eyes still red and puffy from the tears he had tried to hold back. Your smile was so genuine, so full of light, and it only made the ache in his chest worse. He wanted to protect that light, to shield you from any more pain, but he didn’t know how.

“Look!” You said, holding up the recorder with a playful grin. “I recorded a wall dweller getting hit by Pandemonium. It got squished like a fly.” You played the clip for him like it was some kind of small victory, a moment of dark humor to lighten the mood. But Sebastian couldn’t focus on the video. He could only see you—the real you—behind the cheerful facade.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears again. You noticed the shift in his expression, the way his face crumpled with a pain you couldn’t quite understand. “God, Sebastian,” you teased gently, though your voice was tinged with concern. “Don’t tell me you’re getting emotional over a wall dweller.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent waves. The shame of his breakdown mixed with the overwhelming sadness he felt for you, for everything you’d endured, for every piece of you that had been broken and put back together. He hated that he couldn’t control this, that he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. He felt so raw, so exposed.

You blinked, your teasing smile fading as you realized this wasn’t just some passing moment of sentiment. You stepped closer, your expression softening as you took in the sight of him—Sebastian, your normally composed and snarky companion, now reduced to tears.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. His body stiffened at first, but then he melted into your touch, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. You held him close, your hand stroking the back of his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair. The other hand moved up and down his back, soothing him with gentle, rhythmic movements.

“It’s okay, Solace,” you whispered softly, your voice a calming melody against the storm raging in his mind. “The wall dweller is at a better place.”

Sebastian let out a choked laugh, a mix of a sob and a chuckle, shaking his head against your shoulder. “It’s… it’s not about the damn wall dweller,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Me?” you asked, searching his tear-filled eyes for answers. “What about me?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself enough to speak. “I saw the tapes,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “I saw… what they did to you. What you went through.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your grip on him tightening instinctively. “Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice softening with understanding. “You… you saw those?”

He nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything they did to you. I just… I don’t know how you’re still standing here, smiling like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a mix of sorrow and affection for the man in front of you. You knew the tapes were horrifying—brutal, even—but you had long since come to terms with your past. It was a part of you, yes, but it didn’t define you. Not anymore.

You cupped his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I’m okay, Sebastian. I’m still here. I’m still… me.”

He looked at you with such a mix of awe and disbelief, his heart aching with every beat. “But how?” he whispered. “How can you just… move on from something like that?”

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I have to,” you replied simply. “Because if I let it define me, if I let it break me, then they win. And I refuse to let them have that power over me.”

Sebastian stared at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of admiration and love. He had always been drawn to you, always found himself captivated by your spirit, your strength. But now, more than ever, he realized just how much you meant to him—how much he needed you in his life.

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You smiled softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair. “You’re protecting me now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tighter as if afraid to let go. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what had happened in the past, no matter what horrors you’d both faced, you would face them together. And together, you would heal.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, a small, playful smile tugged at your lips. “Besides,” you added, your tone teasing, “I bet that wall dweller’s in wall heaven now, with all his little wall dweller friends. Don’t you think?”

Sebastian let out a watery laugh, pulling back to look at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“And yet,” you said, grinning up at him, “you’re still here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little more whole. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I am.”

And as you stood there together, holding each other close, you knew that even after Sebastian saw the tapes, he would be alright. Just like you are.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

We don't talk enough about Ron's mean streak

Like, I saw a lot of people talk about how funny Ron is (which is true, he's genuinely one of the funnier characters in the series), how loyal he is when it counts, he's brave as hell, and he is really smart, just not book smart. But what I don't see talked about enough (maybe it's just me though), is Ron Weasley's mean streak.

I talked about how Harry most definitely has what it takes to be a Slytherin, can be scary, and is willing to kill when push comes to shove. I also mentioned Hermione's ruthlessness, but I didn't discuss Ron's mean streak which is a joy when I see it crop up in the book. When it comes up, it always reminds me of the twins, and I feel like that's where Ron got it from.

So I'm just going to bring up a few quotes I had in my notes showing Ron's mean streak, I'm sure I missed some from the earlier books, but I find it a fun aspect of his character.

Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he’s all right?” she squealed through her fingers. “Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.

(CoS, 178)

This type of reaction is seen with Ron pretty often. He really doesn't care when someone he dislikes is hurt or injured and he is very vocal about it. He and Harry kinda share this trait, as seen above.

Later in the other quotes I bring up, I show that Hermione is the one usually playing morality police for Ron and Harry even if she herself isn't as innocent as she likes to act.

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!” “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

(CoS, 280)

I love this, Lockhart explodes the cave, obliviates himself, and Ron's reaction is to kick him in the shins. I don't know, I just find it hilarious.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .” Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. “He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

(GoF, 207)

Here you see Hermione the morality police crop up, but I'm talking about Ron here.

Hermione is definitely right in that Draco could've been seriously hurt, but Ron is just glad he saw Malfoy suffering. Actually, in the scene before it, Ron was the one who wanted to curse Malfoy and was held back by Harry and Hermione (as well as in the eat slugs situation in CoS), like, with as much as Harry calls Draco his nemesis, it really feels like Ron is the one that hates Draco and thinks of him as his nemesis.

“She’s an awful woman [Umbridge],” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

(OotP, 324)

I love you, Ron.

This is one of my favorite quotes for him. Hermione shuts down the poison idea, but I think they should've given it a shot, I think it could've been fun.

It would've been cathartic for them at least.

“You take Remedial Potions?” asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. “Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?” As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him. “Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith’s shoulder blades. “Forget it,” said Harry dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really stup —”

(OotP, 528)

I love how Ron always has Harry's back and is ready to fight anyone (including Sirius who he thought was a mass murderer when he was 13 with a broken leg) for Harry's sake. It's a real vibe the Golden Trio has that they're just ready to drop everything and curse out anyone for each other's sake. They are just so protective of each other and I love this for them, how they are all just each other's people, yk.

It's also another example of how Ron is the one of the trio that offers violence as the answer the most often.

“Reparo!” said Hermione quickly, mending Ron’s cup with a wave of her wand. “That’s all very well, but what if Montague’s permanently injured?” “Who cares?” said Ron irritably, while his teacup stood drunkenly again, trembling violently at the knees. “Montague shouldn’t have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!”

(OotP, 679)

Again Ron doesn't care for the injury of people who he considers deserving.

“Madam Pomfrey says she’s just in shock,” whispered Hermione. “Sulking, more like,” said Ginny. “Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,” said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

(OotP, 849)

Like, regardless of whether Umbridge was SAed or not (for the record, I don't think she was) it's not a nice thing to do. Umbridge is awful, but this is Ron literally spreading salt on the wound. but like I mentioned above, she's in the "deserving it" category.

“will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.” “Oh,” said Ron, looking sheepish. “Yeah. All right.” “If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her,” said Harry.

(HBP, 411)

That is honestly so mean. Like, I'm not Lavender's biggest fan, I find her annoying, but she's a teenage girl in her maybe first relationship and she did nothing really wrong. I feel truly sorry for her for how Ron treated her, it wasn't really her fault. It's just mean that he pretends to sleep instead of talking to her.

“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry’s new poster boy.” Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!” “No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. “It’ll make me feel better!”

(HBP, 650)

Like, this is peak sibling behavior, but as I mentioned earlier, Ron tends to want to resort to violence more often than Harry and Hermione do (especially in the earlier books, as Harry does grow angrier after Sirius' death). He is usually the one to bring violence up, and I find it an interesting aspect of his character.

And Ron is correct in the fact hitting Percy would make him feel better. Not saying if it's the right thing to do, but Ron really would experience it as satisfying because Percy would deserve it in his mind.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

(DH, 167)

As I mentioned in one of the Harry posts, Harry is calling the shots, but Ron is the one who offered to kill the Death Eaters. He put that idea on the table. He was relieved when Harry said they shouldn't kill them, but if Harry said it'd be better if they killed them — Ron would've backed him up and done it, while Hermione might've preferred to pretend it wasn't happening.

“That treacherous old bleeder.” Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. “Hermione you’re a genius, a total genius. I can’t believe we got out of that.” “Cave Inimicum. . . Didn’t I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn’t I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!” “Serves him right,” said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs, “What’d you reckon they’ll do to him?” “Oh I hope they don’t kill him!” groaned Hermione, “That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn’t been lying!”

(DH, 424)

Again, Ron not caring/enjoying when people who deserve it suffer. Xenophilius wanted to help them, he tried to persuade them not to come into his home at first so he wouldn't give them in, he tried so hard even though the Death Eaters had his daughter! Harry rightly feels bad for Xenophilius and Luna, it's easy to understand why he did what he did.

Hermione and Harry hope he is fine, but Ron is the one who thinks he has it coming. That he deserves to have his house blown up for betraying them, regardless of his reasoning.

I think Ron is the most black-and-white in his thoughts about people among the trio. There are those who deserve anything that comes to them and those who don't. Specific circumstances and context don't really play a part in what bad people deserve coming to them.

I don't know, I just find this interesting.

Harry has the compassion to understand people, even ones who harmed him or the people he cares about, he is capable of forgiving Voldemort and never really hated Draco.

Hermione is pretty black-and-white in her view of people, having the people she trusts and those she doesn't. She trusts Snape because he's an authority figure trusted by Dumbledore (and Hermione is the one who is truly Dumbledore's woman true and true in the books). Her view on people has less to do with their actions, but who they are endorsed by. She is compassionate to Xenophilius because he's Luna's dad, and Luna is good, therefore, she wouldn't love someone who is bad.

Ron is black-and-white in how he sees people in a very different way than Hermione. He looks at actions, and if you do anything to try and harm him or people he cares about, you get on the shit list. Getting out of Ron's shit list is probably not easy, he doesn't strike me as one who forgives easily and readily the way Harry does, but he does forgive. Like actions can get you on his shit list, actions can get you out. But once a person is on the shit list, they deserve any harm that comes their way.

But Ron is really loyal, and there are people he loves who are basically immune from going on the shit list (like his family, yes, even Percy. While he wants to hit him, I don't believe Ron ever really wished death on Percy). And there is just something interesting about Ron, with his mean streak and everything, being the glue that holds the trio together. Like, in Deathly Hallows once he leaves, Harry and Hermione barely talk to each other, they are barely friends without Ron there.

I don't know, I just love Ron. I love how he is loyal, and friendship glue, but has just as much of a mean streak to him as Harry and Hermione can pull. I just feel like he's sometimes left out of the discussion of how ruthless Harry and Hermione could be. Like, it's true, both of them can be ruthless, but don't leave Ron out. He can be ruthless and actually offers violence as a solution more often than Harry or Hermione do.

[brights-place]

hey heyyy! is it okay if I ask for seperate HCs for the creek (+ BroZone if it's not too too much ^^') seeing fem!reader when she is panicking (generally having trouble breathing, overthinking and not being able to ground herself at all) and comforting her when she needs it most, even when she feels really insecure and as if she could never even be tolerated at all? like, what they would say, how would they comfort her, stuff like that! (i'm extremely sorry that this is really REALLY specific hdjgjfjg)

Brozone comforting their S/O

Pairings: Brozone X Reader (Seperate)

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, Fluff, mild cursing, Angst???

A/N: don’t apologize and I'm sorry if it's short I'm currently having to make sure my grandma is alright while I'm writing this! Plus your request gives me an clearer view on how I should write it <33 anyways! I’ll upload the creek Headcannons after this! even though I hate that little shit...

John Dory

- When he called out for you to get back in Rhonda to head to your next destination he saw your freaked out and shaking figure - Rushed towards you quickly and cupped your face trying to get your attention - He felt heart broken seeing you like this - He snapped his fingers in front of your face gaining your attention as he called out to you - He was worried as he tried to soothe you while texting the brozone group chat for advice which all of them gave him advice for having to make you feel better - I'd say he finds some emotions difficult to deal with so he'd just seek for help from his brothers - He ran inside grabbing you an cup of water and offering it to you quickly - It was always hard for JD to watch their partner suffer like this - He held your hand in his trying his hardest to comfort you - Even if you couldn't hear him, JD knew just being by your side could help you

- Your panic attack wasn't something he could solve since he didn't exactly know what to do because he was alone for most of his life, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try help you - He brought you close and rubbed your back trying to be as supportive as possible. - He told you comforting words and held you close telling you everything would be okay, and he wasn't going anywhere "7.5 billion smiles in the world and yours shines the brightest in my eyes (name) do don't you dare say that about yourself"

- He's corny but lovable and you could cry and hug him tighter - As you gain control of your breaths, he stayed by your side, giving you all of the peace and comfort he could muster.

Spruce/Bruce

- Oh He'd know your freaked out face before you change it back into your smile and left before quickly having an panic attack in the kitchen -He kept reassuring you that it would be okay even if you needed to cry. - Rubbed your back affectionately, trying to instill some sense of comfort.

- He cradled your head to his chest, soothing you with calming words and gentle caresses.

- His voice always seems to calm down any storm and relax your mind - His touch makes you feel safe like nothing can reach you when he's nearby. -  The way he wipes away your tears with a gentle caress and warm embrace. - The soothing words he always has to make your troubles seem small which somehow works for you "You are everything I think about everything I need, everything I want My love please don't think negatively."

- The way he wraps his arms around you when he holds you close. It always feels comforting but also strong as he loves and cares for you. - The trust you feel in his words and actions. Your trust feels like a weight lifted off of your shoulders. You don't need to worry about anything when he holds you close. - The reassurance he always gives you. He knows just what words to say to make you feel loved and cared for he'd stay beside you and make sure your fine which helped.

Clay

- You know how you comforted him when he was having his own panic attack? he'd do the same shit back for you! - You were his shoulder to lean on for that moment so he'll be yours when he saw you get to overwhelmed with some pieces of work which caused you to get stressed. - Cups your face and give words of affirmations and tell you that your safe with him (VEUABUVWBRSA BEST BOYFRIEND) - Makes sure you don't feel lonely so he'd hug you tightly and show affection - would try lighten up the mood and tell you some stories from his sad book club even though your both in it. - You know how I said You are literally everything to him? same goes for you as you both are each others shoulder to lean on when you two ever feel down and right now he knew you needed him - Sits down brings out your comfort item or an safety blanket for you and sits beside you until you are ready to talk - He Can't really look you in the eyes while he hears you vent and rant to him thinking of what to say - Would then say the most comforting shit and loving words to you without knowing making you stare at him eyes whining in awe and with abit of tears growing... - This man is in an sad book club AN SAD BOOK CLUB! SO he would hug - "My love for you (name) is past the mind, beyond my heart, and into my soul" literally staring at him as you hug him tighter - You two soon rest in each others arms sitting their relaxed your mind clear from the struggles knowing that clay has his words with you.

Floyd

- You were out at an party and you staretd to feel overwhelemed with the crowd of people and loud noises and feeling like everybody was watching you - Due to being the sensitive one of the group he recognized your state earlier before you even knew you were having an panic attack - Took you to the side to comfort you from the loudness - put you in an empty room and sat you don handing you an weighted blanket (LIKE THE SWEETIE HE IS!) - You know how I stated he'd listen to your stories and hobbies he'd listen to your vents and rants about what was happening - He understands emotions so well so if you wanted to vent or rant to him he would listen combing his hands through your hair as you ranted/vented about things. - Once your done he'd wait to see if it's alright for him to speak

- Tell you the sweetest things while cupping your teary eyed shaking form as you tell him how you think you weren't enough and taking him away from the party cause you were to overwhelmed which would make him frown - He's now gonna bombard you with compliments and affection he'd smile and move hair out of your face "I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you (name)" - You start crying even more and hug him tightly

- Would be beside you the whole time holding your hand as you tell him everything or sit in silence whichever one you would prefer. - He's sensitive and understand what you mean and feel forever - Hands on your waist as he make sure you feel safe around his arms

- He'd wait beside you and care for you no matter how long it takes.

Branch

- He'd exactly know how you felt when he saw your figure shaking as you knocked on his bunker door frantically sobbing your eyes out - wants to his best to make sure you’re feeling alright and okay around him I mean he's your boyfriend why wouldn't he do that? - hugged you and sat you on his couch placing an weighted blanket around you to comfort you

- He may not be good at comforting you at first but he's fucking good at make sure you relax and that his bunker is an safe space for you

- Even if he finds it difficult to show affection he knows you need him so he'd do his best to push the boundary for himself - Hugs and patting your head awkwardly - Even if he's sarcastic and not knowing what to do first he'd soon know exactly what to do

- Tells you exactly what you want to hear. You feel insecure he'd say the sweetest things feel like your not good enough he'd praise and prove you wrong since he's your partner and cares for your deeply - "I like it when you smile but I love it even more when I'm the reason" Branch mutters cupping your face as you sniffle telling him it's corny which he 100% knew it was but he liked how you smiled up at him - He'd tell you the things he wanted to be told before he started dating you and was by himself having his panic attacks or was left by himself with his thoughts. - Rubs your back and enters the blanket burrito to cuddle with you as you two just watch your comfort shows/movies or just sit down cuddling and listening to your favorite music artists.

- He would do something stupid even if it embarrasses him just to have you laugh around him - Would chuckled when seeing your e/c eyes light up every time he succeeds on making you feel better - This man has things to keep you out of your mind and make you feel better the best he can which works successfully

[cannibal-witchh]

Broken Tea Cup

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Alcohol, smoking, language, mental disorders, self harm, sex

Notes: Sorry, I have been infamously MIA as usual. I've been having a bad depression spell then I got hooked on playing SH2R and fell in love with this take of James. Because I've been down in the dumps I wanted to write on the perspective of being the one to love someone who is feeling sadness. Someone who battles with depression and guilt yet the reader will comfort and still see beauty in. It's always been a want of mine to expierence that kind of comfort when I have my depression spells. This does happen after Mary's death so just a heads up. Also, I haven't wrote in so damn long that it might show in my writing I'm pretty scattered brain. Thanks for checking out my story!

James. That name, that awful name. A name that drew from her chapped pale lips during her final moments. That name, which was accompanied with a desperate plea. A weak collapsing beg that was extinguished under goose down. James. That name drifted in the corridors of his dissociation, and reeled him back to reality.

"W-what?", James stuttered realizing he had another dissociative episode. Your eyes drew down to his hands, another cigarette was laced between his pointer and middle finger. His eyes followed your's, and shame spread across his face. " Y/N, I'm sorry...", his eyes darted to the ground, and he crouched down to extinguish the cigarette. " I'm having a really bad spell, Y/N. I'm so sorry...", his eyes grew glossy, you could see pink pooling under the skin of his nose, and his voice grew nasally. "James, please.", your hands reached out to cup his face. " You aren't a bad person. You are human. You may not have had the right to make the decision you did...but,", you were interrupted with a sniffle from James. His eyes shut tight, as tears began to run down his cheeks, and his hands met your's. You felt him tremble, his hands were shaking, tarnished with the scent of tobacco and callouses. " But, baby...thats your weight to bear. And everyday you punish yourself for it because you are sorry. This eats at you so much that you forget to live each day while you can. You aren't a bad person James. Give yourself some kindness.", you comforted him, bringing your forehead to press against his. His hair was matted together from anxiety sweat, and his eyes continued to remain closed. He refused to look at you. He was afraid he'd look back up to see her. See her in her frail and brittle state. How could he move on? While she was dead. Murdered. Move in with a healthy, warm, and lively woman. While his late wife was buried in the ground with her lasts memories being her worst. Move in with a woman, who possibly could bare children, dance, drink, make love, and who could give him comfort. Something she was unable to give him. He felt so wrong. How could he? All those memories were still there, yet he lives a new life as if none of it ever happened.

" I didn't show her kindness..."

" Love, please, you need to understand. There were so many emotions, and so much pain. I know you will never let this go but understand...she's no longer hurting. ", you couldn't pull anymore words together. Nothing would persuade him to move forward. He didn't feel a glimmer of comfort from those words. She's no longer suffering. That reverberated in his mind.

He let out a cough from all the weeping. His face reddened with grief and torment. " Let's go inside. It's about to rain.", you lightly held his hands and guided him into the house. His hands were clammy, skin stuck to your's. It didn't bother you, however, you didn't plan to release his hands from your's. " Sit.", you commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed still holding your hands tightly.

" I will never be her. I accept that. I don't punish you for still feeling the way you do for her. Things were complicated and difficult. You two had a life together. But James...I adore you. I want to be there for you until you are tired of me. Don't burden yourself with all these emotions. Let me take on some.", you felt his hands twitch, he seemed as though panic had spread all over his body. He finally looked up at you, sad glistened red rimmed eyes, and dried tears. " Ok.", was all he mustered in his response. His awkwardness still lingered even in his state of mind. He was never gifted with words. You knew this though. His actions showed his appreciation for you, not his words.

" I don't deserve another chance...another shot at having someone in my life like you.", he began fidgeting with your fingers. His eyes laying into your's. You could see all his brokenness. Every chip and crack inside him. All the hurt and ache bleeding through. He was a deeply broken man, and yet, you couldn't deny your adoration for him. " I wish I could promise you a wonderful life. But you...you've given me what I haven't given you. Unconditional love.", he felt so much guilt suffocating him, his heart racing with the weight of regret. Clawing at his ribs ready to burst, all the build up of hurt clinging under the shell of James. "James. I know you care for me. You've done alot for me. Please stop comparing how you and I love differently. I promise you, your presence and love is something I'm so thankful for. I only ask that you can eventually provide yourself that level of kindness.", you knew from behind his blue eyes that would never happen. His eyes clearly read there was no chance even a quarter of him could give himself love like what he scrapped along to give you.

His face looked defeated, he was staring at the ground, uncertain where his eyes should even rest. His hands still continuing to figet with your fingers. His leg bouncing up in down, slightly rattling the mattress " Y/N...can I please...touch you?", he awkwardly asked, his eyes tracing from the ground to your body to your eyes. He had always been touch starved. He would fall apart with hugs, kisses, and he'd lose himself intertwined under the sheets with you. You were lost at his question, he must've wanted to stop the conversation. It was traveling in a small circle. Be kind to yourself. Mary is no longer suffering. I can't forgive myself. I can't let go. You deserve better. All empty words and suggestions given at an already exhausted battle.

"Are you sure, we should?", you asked with surprise across your face. You didn't want to feel temptation drawing at your heart, but you couldn't deny...grief did bring people to want sex. The emotions with every thrust, every gasp, and every motion...it felt so genuine. Like the intimate acts the two of you indulged in was healing. Like he understood, he is allowed to feel pleasure. To be loved and held under such vulnerability. That even under such grim spells, he was still desired and loved in your eyes.

"I would like to...but only if you...", he continued his awkward mumbling. His eyes trailing away, trying to be discipline. and not draw his eyes to your night gown. The way it hung off your shoulders, scooping down to reveal so much chest, thin enough to show peaks forming when the temperature was low, short enough that it barely reached past your upper thigh, and barely giving modesty to your lace panties.

"Touch me.", you gave an approving look that sent him breaking from his refrains of exploring you. Your doe eyes gazing at him, exhausted from the tiring battle of begging James to allow kindness to himself. Maybe your body meeting with his would allow him this.

He let out a quiet mhm, and reached for your face with both large slender hands. He cupped both sides and led you towards his face. You saw his blonde eyelashes cover his sad blue eyes, before you closed your own eyes. A gentle kiss was exchanged. You heard him let out a low gasp. He brought one of his hands to the small of your back, bringing you into his lap. You could feel heat pressing against his jeans. A quick glance down, and you spotted small wet stain appeared beside his zipper. He was so easily excited, it didn't take long for him to leak desire.

He continued to kiss you, gently he nipped at your lower lip, and invited his tongue in your mouth. One of his hands reached to squeeze your thigh, his thumb rubbed circles along your soft skin. " God. I want you, Y/N.", apology could be heard in his voice, but also sincerity too. He did want you. He did find beauty in you. " Then show me.", you commanded as you guide your hands under his shirt to touch his bare chest. His heart raced, practically ready to burst from how fast it was pumping. He broke the kisses, his eyes half lidded gazing back at you. He brought both arms to hug you tightly, his nose pressed against the top your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin. " Please lay down."

You obliged and fell slowly onto your back. James pulled his shirt over his shoulders, his body was lovely. It was realistic. Not some chiseled ab model. He had body hair littered from his chest to his lower abdomin. By no means had much toned mass, he had a bit of a lower stomach from drinking but he wasn't overweight. Just human. The heart breaking part of every time you witnessed James undress was what you saw on his arms. Deep scars. He used to self harm. He never liked visiting that topic but he would never deny that was a bad method of coping in his earlier years of grief.

You tried not to focus on that small detail of him. He was alive, that was a reminder of it. He unfastened his belt and let his jeans drop down to his ankles. He stepped out of them to crawl between your legs. You caught a glimpse of a very fevered erection. Reddened and dripping with lust. Or was it love? Maybe both. He hooked his fingers into your panties sliding them off you. " Please take off your top. I want to see all of you while I taste you.", his mouth was so close to it. His head so deep between your thighs, it was almost an art. You obeyed, your top flew across the room, until a gentle clash of fabric met the wooden floor. " Good girl."

He brought his lips to kiss your inner ones. His tongue traced the edge of your slit. Lightly it followed up and down until he started to softly tug on your labia with his teeth. He nudged your hips to lift a little more so he could savor your deeper. You followed, legs widened apart and your back arching up. Saliva ran down his chin, glistening his stubble in the dim light. He started to delicately suck on your labia and intermittently tease your entrance. Alternating between sucking and quickly lapping at your hole.

You couldn't resist a release of moans, your stomach rising and falling from your breaths increasing. You saw James occasionally glance to meet your eyes. It was like witnessing a starving creature consuming you without limitations. He moved his mouth to suck on your pussy, then tracing his tongue down to wriggle his tongue inside you. You felt your hips buckle, and your hands reached to grasp his soft blonde hair. You tugged it gently to get out a small groan from him. You felt his breath brush against your sensitive body. His tongue continued to press into you, his nose lightly rested on a patch of your pubic hair. James loved your natural side, if you missed shaving he couldn't possibly care. It was an opportunity to smell more of your natural musk. He felt more compelled to taste your pussy knowing he could smell your soft hair. Something about that interaction made him wild.

"Your a good boy, James.", you praised him. You saw him lift his face a bit with starry eyes. James had always been the more submissive one. The praise had always been a kink for him. " More, please.", he politely begged. His tongue dragged to your clit, circling it, and bringing himself to suckle it. " Sweet boy, you know how to please me so well. You are such a good boy.", it was hard to think clearly, with him roaming his tongue along your aroused body. " Am I really a good boy, momma?", he pushed himself up, until he hovered over you. His shoulders tensing from lifting up, his body towering over yours as he brought a hand to guide his dick into you. He brushed it along your slit, kissing your clit before he slid the head in. He was teasing you. "Yes, sweet boy, now go on, touch me as deep as you can.", you impatiently moaned, the rest of him slipped in. Both of you let out a loud gasp, your eyes both met. He brought his hands to lace with yours. " God, you're so beautiful.", his eyes watery with emotion.

"I could never stop fantasizing about you.", he was thursting relatively slow, just savoring you wrapped around him. It was a flustered feeling of craving him to go faster.

" Every day, I just think....uh...fuck..I think of how you're handcrafted for me. Your body sculpted to perfection."

" Aw, my sweet James.", your eyes grew emotional with his. Were you two making love? Was this no longer fucking?

"You're captivating. Every moan.", he thrusted deep.

" Every cry.", the thrust grew deep and you exchanged a yelp in return.

" Every time you shout my name.", he crashed his lips into your's forcing his tongue in. A guttural sound of satisfaction parting from his lips.

" Fuck. I can't take it.", you saw him tense, his eyes tightly shut. Hands gripping your's, nails practically digging into your skin. " Say your all mine."

" James. I'm all your's."

" Say you will have my children."

" I want to carry your babies."

A loud moan slipped from him, his thrusts were faster, the mattress creaked with each motion. You could feel his cock growing very hot as it stretched you apart.

" Can I...can I get you pregnant...now?", there was the awkward James. A few seconds of a dominant side came out and now it was back to the sweet shy man you knew.

You shot your eyes at his. He seemed as though he regretted the request, as if it was a slip of the tongue.

" You would be amazing dad, baby.", you gave a gentle smile. His eyes squinting as a smile formed across his face.

His thrusts were intense for several minutes before he grew sloppy. He brought his hands to slip under you body to bring you against his chest. He hugged you tightly as his pace became slower and drawn out. " I love you."

" I love you too, darling. It's ok, get me pregnant."

A desperate gasp slipped again, until it was followed with a hitch. His body tensed as you felt hot ropes deposit in you.

"Oh my god...I'm so sorry.", he panicked. His self worth reflecting back in his eyes. " James. James. James. Calm down. I want this. ", you grinned, pink dusted along your cheek and chest.

" You really want this?"

" I mean...its kinda a bit late. You already finished in me..."

"Oh....yeah...I guess that's...ermm..yeah. sorry."

" James...be quiet ok."

" Did you...cum?"

You let out a soft giggle and shook your head.

" Shit...I'm so selfish...I- I"

" We can go for another round in a bit, baby. Let's go grab some food."

" Oh...you want to go again?"

You nodded and rolled your eyes.

" Is this what you call pillow talk or after care?"

" Please don't say pillow talk."

Oh...yikes.

[slttygeto]

MY PUNISHMENT, AN ETERNITY WITHOUT YOU--GETO. S

synopsis: you were never there for suguru, and he isn't scared of saying it to you.

c.w: gn! reader, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader is a terrible friend, insinuations on suguru and reader possibly liking each other, suguru feels terribly left out, confronation, there is a dialogue here from an old movie so that's where the inspiration came from!

word count: 1,1k

note: very quick drabble before I head to bed. sorry for choosing violence so late at night.

Everything happens for a reason. What a lame way to comfort yourself through the horrifying realization that you’ve been betrayed by one of the closest people to your heart. You stand in front of Yaga and Satoru with a broken heart and a body that is so cold you could be mistaken for a corpse and you breathe in—you try to inhale through what you’ve been told.

“Suguru killed those people, he also killed his parents and—“

Enough. You’ve heard more than enough for today. You squeeze your eyes shut and your hands find your face, covering it whole. You’re not sure what the gesture is supposed to do, you believe that you simply did not want to see the people that have delivered those news for you and it’s a little unfair to them. But then again, if they hadn’t known how poorly you’d handle it, why’d they look so apologetic when they asked you to wait for them outside of the classroom? They knew how you’d feel and they still went through with it.

You don’t realize that a week had passed since the incident with Suguru until you’re receiving a text Shoko and Satoru telling you about his whereabouts, and you don’t think you’ve ever ran so fast in your life just to see a person—to see him, for what felt like it was going to be the last time in a while.

Suguru stands in front of a flower shop owned by an elderly couple and his face seems to be empty of any emotion as he stares at the many flowers displayed by the old woman tending to her plants. Yet his eyes seem to be fixated on a specific flower—a bouquet of pink Cyclamens that looked as though it was freshly picked and put together, placed neatly on the tiny green table outside of the shop. His hand reaches down towards it and traces the pink wrapping paper with the same fingers that once held your chin as he tended to your wounds after missions.

“Suguru,” you sound out of breath, your hands are trembling and you feel as though you’re about to faint very soon. “What are you doing?” A part of you hopes that Suguru comes up with a good answer, something that justifies what he’s done, what he is about to do now that he has the entire Jujutsu society turning against him. You want answers, you want to be comforted by this abrupt and sudden decision of his. But when he stands there silently, doesn’t even bother to look up from the bouquet he seemingly bought prior to your arrival, your heart sinks. So, you ask again.

“Sugu-“ your throat closes up and you can’t muster up the courage to pronounce his name properly. “Answer me.”

“What do you think I’m doing, hm?” the nonchalance in his voice feels like a dozen of needles poking through your skin, each one injecting you with a different poison and only Suguru’s warmth can heal you.

“You lied to me, you deceived me.” You say quietly and when you hear his chuckle—the first sign of emotion in very long, your heart sinks to your stomach. Why does he find this amusing? It shouldn’t be funny, you were seriously suffering and he was being so… different.

“I’ve deceived you?” he finally looks up and it’s so difficult not to run away and hide when he was eyeing you so dangerously, daring you to repeat what you have just said.

“You’ve deceived me,” he continues and approaches you with the bouquet in hand.

“I am tired of trying to listen to you—“

“You have never listened, you never tried to listen,” he presses on every word and his looming figure towers over you with so much ease. You cower under his gaze, try to stutter a few words out and the confusion evident on your face irks Suguru even more.

“I did try to listen! What are you-“

“Then where were you when I needed you?” he tilts his head to the side, and the action is mocking as he lets out a pensive hum. “On missions… with Satoru… out with Shoko smoking—that’s right, I stopped being fun to hang out with, didn’t I?”

“You stopped needing me because I stopped being useful.” He spits it out like venom and your blood runs cold. You try to blink the tears coating your lashes and back away from him.

“That is not true,” the whimper that escapes your lips is pathetic, but it does nothing to the tall man standing in front of you.

“Then where were you when I needed you?” he asks again, and he knows that you don’t have an answer—or it was simply clear that Suguru wasn’t worth the additional baggage on your shoulders. You never wanted to be there for him as simple as that. Your friendship with him was only fun when he was the sweet, soft and flirty Suguru. Hanging out with him was only fun because he paid for the food and pushed you on the swing, it stopped being fun when his thoughts got darker and it was harder for him to smile when you apologized for the umpteenth time because you forgot to check on him.

Suguru simply had enough.

“You gave me your heart, you know?” The taller male suddenly speaks up after a minute of awkward and painful silence and your head shoots up. “You’d like me to hand it back whole, but I won’t.” He takes a step closer and strangely, you don’t flinch nor move away.

“You live a long life, an eternity without me. You will look at the faces of passersby hoping for something that will bring me back to you, you will find stargazing on the rooftop and summer nights strangely empty—your heart will long for something, anything that would make calling out for my name worth it and would somehow bring me back.” Suguru is seemingly calm through it all, like the sight of the fat tears cascading your cheeks doesn’t move him and for the first time ever—it truly doesn’t reach his heart, and doesn’t try to pull at its strings.

“Your heart will always ache for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that this—“ he points at the both of you, referring to you confronting him. “Was the brave thing to do.”

And through gritted teeth, you manage to find your voice again.

“You dare talk about bravery?”

“What else do we have to talk about, hm?”

—in case anyone needed to know, “Cyclamen flowers can also represent love, affection, and admiration. They are sometimes used to display affection and romantic feelings towards someone.”

do with that whatever you want.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[mer-acle]

Sup, I’m in ur inbox again 🥳 because the idea of how Zeus would have gotten Apollo to like- not help Athena was intriguing to me I ended up writing like- a tiny lil thing with Bad Parent Zeus at his absolute finest

The first two people to rush towards Athena after she passed out were Ares and Apollo, but as soon as they were close Zeus held out a hand, glaring at his two sons, “Away, both of you.”

“Father-” Ares started

“I said, away, Ares.”

The war god bit his tongue. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near his father’s favorite and after what he’d just done to Athena he wasn’t going to deny being scared of angering the king of gods, but Apollo on the other hand seemed to not hold any fear at the time. His concern for Athena’s life pushing that away, “Father, Athena needs help we can’t possibly just leave her there!” Apollo protested, looking at his father with pleading eyes. He didn’t have the best relationship with Zeus either, the sky god preferring his twin sister over him more often than not, but this wasn’t about how much Zeus cared for him. It was about how much Zeus cared for Athena. Which may not be as much as everyone thought.

Ares distantly thought, foolish Apollo, father hates being tested, especially when he’s in a bad mood.

True to his personality Zeus violently grasped the archery god by the wrist, holding him up off the ground and glaring, “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do Apollo.”

“But-”

Lightning crackled in Zeus’ other hand which was now raised above Apollo, “But?” He challenged, daring the younger, terrified god to speak

Apollo didn’t say anything.

Ares didn’t say anything.

Nobody else said anything. Except Zeus, who yanked Apollo closer to him and growled in his ear, “You are forbidden from aiding her. She dug this grave by herself and she will lay in it”

Apollo could barely nod in response.

“Am I understood, Phoebus Apollo?”

“Yes- Y-Yes father.”

Zeus threw his son to the ground before addressing the rest of the gods present, “all of you begone! Go about your days!”

All the other gods began to migrate out of the arena, going back to whatever they were doing before. Ares helped Apollo up from the ground and walked with him until they found Artemis and the two twins went off elsewhere leaving Ares to spare one more glance at Zeus standing over Athena’s broken body before he left to go find Aphrodite.

Zeus decided he would go tell Hermes to free that mortal man after getting Athena to her room. The thunder god felt no guilt as he picked up his eldest daughter’s body, her golden blood staining his hands and clothing. She was burning hot to the touch and the gruesome scars from the lightning bolts almost ran down to the bone, but still, he was guiltless for it all. Athena had brought her suffering upon herself with her own insolence. She deserved this. And it was not as if Zeus wasn’t still completing his end of the deal, her mortal would go free and be given a final chance to return home. He had done nothing wrong, he never did anything wrong.

Does this make sense? Absolutely NOT was it fun making Zeus a bad father as per usual? YES 😼

Hi Vicky :)

She dug this grave herself and she will lie in it

Girl! 😭 /Pos

I love Apollo being so in his domain that he's not even afraid initially

Now I kinda imagine Zeus carrying Athena and she wakes up still in his arms... no matter how she reacts it would be HEARTBREAKING (is this a request... I mean if you want to it totally is lol)

Also getting fanfic based on fanfic I've written is the most surreal experience I swear 😭 thank youuu

I love this sm

[mothlau]

Ooooh you’re doing the kink prompts too!!! Rosquez and cnc would be delightful, if you please!!!

oh honey do I please :3 this is my second time writing rosquez (first time was yesterday) so plz don't come for me if it's ooc and also bad I am trying to get my gears working. also this is a bit angsty and post divorce, maybe 2025 if u want it to be in a time frame? (kink meme here)

1853 words (😼)

Valentino promised to hurt him. A long time ago, when he was young and naive and still thought of the older man as some sort of god, when he thought him invincible. He kept his promise, of course he did. He made sure Marc was left bloody and broken after he was done with him and then didn’t look back to witness the mess still writhing on the floor.

Now, unfortunately for Valentino, it’s Marc’s turn to hurt him.

Marc wants the pain to linger, he wants Valentino to spend the rest of his life with the hurt at the forefront of his mind, to not be the same after it. Just like how Marc was never the same after Valentino ruined him.

He wants Valentino to remember the feeling of his fingers around his neck, squeezing, the same way Marc still remembers the feeling of those hands on his hips. He wants Valentino to remember this day the same way Marc still thinks of 2015. He needs Valentino to know how it feels to have his head held down by this hair, face pressed into the wall. He wants him to experience the same exact desperation, the need for air, for denied comfort, that Marc felt since the moment Valentino turned against him, too caught up in his own fabricated world to discern what was real and what was not. He wants Valentino to feel the same pain Marc went through when his heart was broken beyond repair, all of it set alight in one single day.

Against him, Valentino struggles, trying to get away, but Marc is stronger now, much stronger than when he was a young and stupid boy. The older man can do nothing more than kick the air and try not to lose his breath completely. Even his height advantage is useless in the face of Marc’s revenge.

Marc presses his mouth close to Valentino’s ear, his hand still tightly gripping his hair, and says, “you said you’d kill me one day, Vale. You said you’d make sure you are the one to bury me so that I could never be a danger to others.” His hold loosens slightly, so that the man can inhale and fill up his lungs before Marc can decide to take it away from him again. “I won’t let you die, Valentino. Not when you have yet to kill me.”

Valentino gasps, a pathetic sob shaking his body and making the older push into Marc’s open palm. Marc has to stifle a laugh; they haven’t even properly started it and Valentino is already a desperate mess, putty in his hands.

The rush, he feels it go straight to his head.

“This is a promise,” Marc whispers against the older’s throat, teeth close to sinking in. “You won’t be able to forget this, amor; the feeling of my fingers on your throat. It will stay with you forever, no?” He squeezes again, moves Valentino’s head in a mockery of silent agreement. But God, he feels high on the power.

Valentino whimpers, powerless and awaiting his trial, unable to challenge Marc.

“This,” Marc pushes his cock into the swell of Valentino’s ass, “is your reminder that I am always going to win, yes? Always, I will win and you will never get away from me, from this. You, Valentino, will always be the one to lose.” Valentino cries, one more futile attempt to move from Marc’s unforgiving arms, but Marc doesn’t let him go. Now that he has him where he wants him, Marc will never let the older go. He’ll always stay here, where Marc can put him in whatever position he wants, where he can get him to do anything his heart desires. “You lost and you will lose again, Valentino. To me.”

Valentino’s face is red, he’s fighting to breathe, although his movements are starting to get sluggish, weaker, and this is exactly what Marc wants, what he’s always wanted. To see him break, to see him suffer, to have him at his mercy.

“No, please,” he whispers, head shaking minutely with how Marc is still holding the older by the neck. “Please, Marc, please don’t do this.”

Valentino is looking up at him, eyes pleading and wet with tears that have yet to fall. Something snaps in him, something ugly and primal, that makes his chest feel as if it’s about to collapse in on itself.

Fuck, Marc can’t take his eyes off of him.

His fingers find Valentino’s hand, give it two slow squeezes, a silent question. Valentino nods his head, leans into the softened touch for one second, before he spits on Marc’s face.

Marc is frozen for a moment, unsure on how to react to Valentino’s display of foolish resilience. He watches the older, face still, shocked, but then the fury spreads and all he feels is hot, red anger that makes him want to push Valentino until he cries.

He can do that; he can do exactly that.

He presses on Valentino’s shoulder, until his knees hit the floor with a harsh <pop> that would make him laugh on a different day. Today he only smirks at the wince on Valentino’s face. Fingers bury in the older’s curls, so that the wince doesn’t morph into a look of pleasure once the discomfort starts to ease. Marc wouldn’t want Valentino to enjoy himself, not when this is meant to be for him; Marc’s revenge, sweet like honey on his tongue, running down his chin with the drying spit.

Seeing him like this is not enough, Marc can feel it in the tug that seems to be forcing his hand. The resonating sound comes as a surprise, palm hot where it still rests on Valentino’s cheek. The older mewls, moves his face to take Marc’s thumb in his mouth, a pitiful image before Marc’s very eyes.

He can’t believe it, the same man he thought to be a god, now nothing more than a sobbing mess that’s kneeling in front of him. He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what Valentino needs, so he pushes two fingers in his mouth, watches as he takes the intrusion without making a sound, eyes falling shut in pure bliss.

That won’t do.

Still, he takes a few seconds to admire the sight, allows himself to watch as Valentino tries to take more of his fingers in, head held back by Marc’s fingers. He takes the fingers out, lets the spit dribble onto Valentino's chin, and uses his other hand to hold the older's face. His grip is tight, bruising, and Marc loves how his thumb digs into the corner of his eye. He loves how red his skin is under his touch.

"I hate you," he tells him, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He hates him, he really does. But God, if he doesn't want him, too. If he doesn't wish to have him in every single way, doesn't wish for him to be his, keep Valentino on his knees, bring him along just to have him keep his cock warm.

"I hate you, too," Valentino answers, but his voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. And he's not lying, not quite, but his pupils are dilated, eyes fixed on Marc's crotch.

"Then why are you so desperate for my cock, hmm?"

The question goes unanswered, and Marc can see how the older swallows, the movement of his throat, the bobbing of his Adam's apple, the marks he made.

"Answer me," he orders, voice low and commanding.

"No, I don't—"

"Answer me!" Marc's voice echoes through the walls, loud and clear.

"I don’t want it, please," the older whimpers.

“Not good enough, <Vale>. Why are you saying please if you don’t want me to shove my cock down your throat, hm?”

Valentino stares up at him, flabbergasted. He can’t bring himself to answer, can’t even beg for Marc to forgive him and spare him.

“Please, Marc,” he says, uselessly, hands tugging at Marc’s jeans. He’s so– He’s absolutely pathetic, can’t even try to deny how much he wants it.

Marc laughs, hand slapping Valentino’s away, harsh and mean. “God, amor, you’re such a slut that you can’t even pretend not to want me to fuck you. I thought you didn’t want this,” he mocks him. “What happened to those little no’s?”

“Please.”

Valentino is his.

Marc is the one to decide when and how the older gets fucked, the one who can use him whenever and however he wants.

And right now, he wants him to choke on his dick.

He doesn't bother with unzipping his pants, too impatient, too eager. Instead, he pushes his trousers and boxers down, just enough so that he can pull his cock out.

Valentino stares at it, a little transfixed.

Marc gives himself a couple of strokes, then uses his other hand to force the older's jaw open. He doesn't give him time to adjust before pushing inside, forcing his cock deeper until his nose is touching the curls at the base.

It's hot, tight and wet and warm, and Valentino's throat constricts around his length. It feels good, too good, and he can't help the moan that escapes his lips.

"God, that's it, baby," he groans, head falling back. "Just like that, you feel so good."

He holds him still, his nose buried deep in the black hairs, and Marc can't help but wonder how good it would be if he came all over his face, marked him, and forced him to wear it like that, for the world to see.

"You like that, yeah? Being on your knees, getting fucked by me?" He pulls his cock out, lets the older gasp, spit and precome smeared all over his mouth and chin.

"I don't," the other rasps, but he can't hide the fact that he's enjoying this.

Marc pushes in again, forces the older's jaw open. He starts slowly at first, a slow pace, but soon he finds himself fucking Valentino's mouth with abandon, the sounds echoing around them.

He can feel his climax building up, the heat spreading from his abdomen to his whole body. He's close, so fucking close, and all he wants is to fill the other's throat, claim him, own him.

"Open your mouth," he says, breathless, and Valentino obeys, his tongue sticking out.

Marc comes, the release crashing over him, and his cum paints the older's face. It's beautiful, the sight, and it's his.

He watches, chest heaving, as Valentino licks his lips, his eyes half-lidded. He looks wrecked, ruined, and Marc loves it.

"That's what you wanted, yes? My cum all over your face?"

The other nods, his tongue still out, and it's almost cute how needy he looks.

"Good boy," Marc murmurs, and Valentino preens. "Such a good boy, taking everything I give you."

The older doesn't respond, doesn't even move, and Marc can't help but think of how perfect the man would be as a toy.

"Let me clean you up, amor," he says, and he doesn't wait for an answer.

[atimeofyourlife]

Worried about me, you're hurt worse

Day 25 | rated: t | wc: 873 | prompts: SURGERY | Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good." | cw: aftermath of a car accident, major character injury | ao3 Buck and Tommy in the aftermath of a car accident, Tommy needing major surgery when Buck only needed stitches. Follow up to day 6 It comes crashing down

Buck couldn't help pacing round the waiting room while Tommy was in surgery. He felt guilty for coming out of the accident only needing a few stitches, where Tommy needed major surgery and had coded in the ambulance. Even though he knew it was not his fault, the other driver was incredibly drunk, there had been an almost empty bottle of vodka by the drivers seat. But he still blamed himself.

He'd been resistant to getting checked out, and it was only when Eddie threatened to tie him to a bed that he'd allowed a nurse to make sure he was okay and to stitch up the cut on his forehead. His focus was on Tommy.

"Buck. You're not going to help Tommy by working yourself up. You were injured in that crash too. Sure, not as bad, but you still need to look after yourself." Bobby said coming over to where Buck was pacing.

"I. I just. I need to help him."

"I know, but you can't help him, you can't take care of him if you don't take care of yourself."

"Okay."

--

"Family of Thomas Kinard?" A nurse came into the room.

"Yes. Yes, that's us." Buck was up and crossing the room quickly. "How is he?"

"I just need to confirm, I have an Evan Buckley listed as his medical proxy?"

"That's me." Buck replied. "They- they're all family. They can hear it."

"Mr Kinard has made it through surgery. He'll be moved to a ward shortly." She explained. "He has suffered a number of serious injuries, and it will be a long and complicated healing process. His right femur, hip, and wrist are all broken, as are five of his ribs, one of which had punctured his lung. There was also some internal bleeding into the abdominal cavity, and a ruptured spleen. We conducted a CT scan, and there's no indication of swelling or bleeding around the brain, which is a good sign, but we won't be able to fully assess any head injury until he's awake."

"When can I see him?" Buck asked.

"After he's been moved to the ward, someone will come and notify you when he can have visitors."

"Thank you." Buck replied, and the nurse gave him a soft smile before walking off.

"He'll get through it, Buck. We'll all be there fighting alongside you, helping out in any way that we can, okay?" Eddie said, guiding Buck back to a chair.

"But- he's so hurt." Buck could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "He's going to be down for months."

"And he'll complain about it every step of the way. Just like you when you're injured." Chimney teased lightly. "Tommy's tough. All you need to do is be there to support him."

--

It felt like an age before Buck was able to sit with Tommy, even though everyone kept reminding him that it hadn't been that long. And once he could see Tommy, he felt his heart break all over again. Seeing the man he loved in a hospital bed, with so many injuries to recover from. It was almost too much.

Buck took a seat next to Tommy's bed, and held his uninjured hand.

"I need you to wake up, okay. I. I love you so damn much. I mean it, you're it for me, Tommy. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, grow old and retire. I know it's not been that long, but I. I can't imagine a future without you now." Buck said quietly, words only for him and Tommy.

He'd been sat with Tommy for thirty minutes, maybe an hour, he wasn't exactly sure. Time seemed to be moving in a strange way, seconds creeping by so slowly they felt like hours, and blocks of ten, fifteen minutes passing in the blink of an eye. But Tommy seemed to be stirring.

"Tommy? A-are you awake?" Buck asked, keeping his voice low.

"Hmm- 'Van?" Tommy mumbled, opening his eyes for a second before closing them again.

"Yeah, I'm here." He squeezed Tommy's hand gently.

"Lights." Tommy screwed up his face a little. "Happened?"

"On it." Buck got up and crossed the room so he could dim the lights. He didn't finish until he was back next to Tommy. "We were in a car accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit the passenger side of the jeep."

"Oh." Tommy opened his eyes and looked up at Buck. He raised his hand to brush against the stitches on Buck's forehead. "You're hurt?"

"Of course you're worried about me." Buck couldn't help the laugh he let out. "You're lying in a hospital bed with multiple broken bones, a chest tube because one of your broken ribs punctured a lung, and without your spleen. And you're worried about me, where my worst injuries were a cut that needed six stitches and a minor concussion."

"Don't like you hurt." Tommy replied, pouting slightly.

"I don't like seeing you hurt either, Tommy. So you have to let me take care of you until you're all better." Buck leant in to kiss Tommy softly. It would be a long recovery for Tommy, but at least they had each other.

[dracoandthehounds]

White Noise - One-Shot

5.1k | Drarry | AU | M | also available on AO3

Draco had nightmares.

It was something Harry had noticed immediately upon his arrival to their safe house. Even though they’d managed a whole room to spare for Draco and all the space they thought he must have wanted, Harry was still woken in the night by the sound of bleary shouting, and gasps, and, once or twice, broken sobs. It went on like that for the first month, with a sort of quiet agreement that fell into place at once that nobody would speak of the nightly ordeal Draco suffered with. Afterall, they all had nightmares, with all the horrible things they’d seen, all the horrible things they’d done. So it was definitely nothing to be embarrassed about.

But Harry learned that with Draco it was different. Because Draco had them every single night.

And Harry became sort of obsessed with fixing it.

Hermione said that Harry was just getting stir-crazy, having to wait for word from the Order about their next mission, and that was why Harry had become so determined to find a way to fix Draco’s sleep, despite the fact that Draco told them all that there was no point, and he’d been having them for years, now. And maybe it was boredom, exhaustion borne from having to pace the old decrepit house in the middle of some forest in Ireland, the exact location known only to Remus Lupin, their secret-keeper. Maybe Harry had gotten tired of watching Hermione pour over books that he knew she’d already read, or of playing chess with Ron, who always, always won, no matter how hard Harry tried, no matter what clever move Harry pulled. Whatever it was, Harry didn’t really care. Because all he saw was a problem that demanded a solution.

His first tactic was simple. After dinner, and just before they all ticked off to bed, Harry brought Draco a mug of warm chamomile tea with a dash of milk to encourage deeper sleep. Draco stared at the mug for several moments, as though waiting for it to explain Harry’s behaviour, before he looked up, eyebrow raised, at Harry, himself.

“To, erm…” Harry stuttered, “help you sleep.”

“Right,” Draco said, looking back down. The muted candlelight caught against the scar that now stretched, jagged and forked, across Draco’s cheekbone. A weird part of Harry couldn’t help but think about all the times Draco had given him shit over the years about his own scar.

And now they matched.

Harry shook the thought from his head.

“Cheers, Potter,” Draco said, sipped the tea, then split off toward his bedroom.

Harry awoke, just a little past two in the morning, to the sound of a strangled gasp coming from the wall that separated their two rooms. And he couldn’t fall back asleep with the sounds of Draco’s panic so close, echoing in the still of the night.

The next morning, after he’d heard Draco leave his room and go turn on the shower in the loo, Harry snuck into Draco’s bedroom. In short order he found the mug from the night prior, and found, to his delight, that the mug had been drained. It gave Harry two answers.

The first was that the tea hadn’t worked to quell Draco’s nightmares, since, obviously Draco had still had them, despite having clearly drank the tea.

And the second was that Draco was willing to accept Harry’s help.

The next thing Harry tried was his muggle wireless. He showed it to Draco the following night.

“And I think we should try two different things with it,” Harry explained. “First, some muggle music, and if that doesn’t work, we can try turning it to a static station— for white noise, alright?”

“White noise?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” Harry explained. “It’s like a steady noise that you can tune out, and then you won’t be bothered by, like, random sounds. Muggles use it all the time, I think. I read this article in a muggle magazine about it, once. When I couldn’t sleep, summer after fourth year.”

Draco stared at him, then held out a hand. Harry gave him the wireless.

“Are you going to show me how it works, or am I meant to just jab at it until something happens?” Draco asked, eyebrow raised.

Harry huffed out a laugh, then stood up, so he could sit beside Draco. He spent the next twenty minutes explaining the different knobs, and cycling through the different radio stations, until Draco got the hang of it. And he tried to ignore the warm press of Draco’s leg beside his, or the gentle smell of spearmint and lavender that seemed to come from Draco’s white-blond hair. From this close, Harry could see a few small freckles along the back of Draco’s neck that he’d never noticed before. This new knowledge felt like gold.

That night, Harry could hear the gentle sounds of classical music, a bit fuzzy from how far off they were from civilization, as it filtered through the wall separating them. There was something peaceful about the muffled sound. It gave Harry a strange feeling of a far off peace. The lie that maybe, somewhere, things were working out okay.

But, again, it didn’t work. Harry woke to Draco screaming, some choked and pleading cry. He was begging that his mother be spared.

Harry’s heart felt heavy and broken all throughout the next day. Draco’s skin, which had always been pale, did little to hide the growing dark shadows underneath his eyes, as each restless night stacked against each other. It made Harry feel as though he were losing some sort of battle, right at his homefront.

“So, the white noise tonight?” Harry asked Draco over lunch, right after Hermione had shown them the results of her past week of research, some new theories as to why Voldemort hadn’t died after Sirius had hit him with the killing curse last year, during their battle in Diagon Alley.

“Alright,” Draco said, a quick nod. “White noise tonight.”

That night, after dinner, Draco had turned to the three of them, and asked the question they knew was inevitable. “Dumbledore really didn’t tell you? Before he died?”

Hermione sighed, her face falling.

“No,” Harry said. “We think… we think he meant to—”

“We’re not even sure if he knew, Harry,” Ron said, sighing.

Harry shook his head. “I know he was onto something, alright? He’d written me, remember? The night before. That he had an idea how Voldemort came back after that night in Godric’s Hollow.”

“You’re not convinced?” Draco asked Ron.

Ron sighed. “I was, for a while. But… to leave us so in the dark… I don’t know anymore.”

Hermione sighed. “He was caught by surprise. We all were. He didn’t have time to explain.”

“And that’s even if his theory was right,” Ron argued.

Harry rubbed his forehead. They’d had this conversation plenty. He wasn’t sure if it was doing them any good.

But Draco was the one to break it. Draco coughed, mouth tight, then spoke. “I didn’t even know, you know,” he said. “About Barty Crouch Jr.— I had no idea he was still alive.”

Ron looked back up, and Harry could see his strategizing mind running behind his brown eyes. It was like the few times he’d seen Dudley at the computer, and the way the machine would cycle through its programming, its lights beeping as it thought. Harry could sense the same sort of hidden calculations now running behind the neutral expression of Ron’s face.

Right before they’d rescued Draco, the three of them had agreed to not immediately pester him for information, no matter how vital they knew it was. They’d all agreed that giving him the space to answer and to settle was what mattered most, and that if they tried too hard too soon, then the only thing they’d ensure was Draco clamming up, surely assuming that they’d only saved him for information. If they acted like all that mattered was Draco’s insight into Voldemort’s inner circle, then Draco would never trust them enough to realise that they’d saved him for a far simpler reason: that he deserved to be saved.

The inside knowledge was just a bonus.

“We thought,” Ron said, each word slow, “that you-know-who found a way to restore Crouch’s soul. Either that or Crouch never received the kiss in the first place. But, well, if that’s the case… then that would mean that Fudge had been compromised, too.”

“Which, of course, we can’t know either,” Hermione said quickly. “With Fudge dying so shortly after.”

Harry nodded along, but kept his mouth shut. He was no good at this sort of thing. Gentle interrogation, basically, if he were being honest. And they really were lucky that Ron could manage it, as Hermione didn’t have the patience for it, either. She didn’t know how to change tactics in real time, to adapt to constantly changing information. Like a game of chess. What Ron excelled in.

Draco frowned. “I don’t know, either. I only found out that Crouch was still alive after Dumbledore died. I tried to ask my mother, but, well…” he trailed off.

Ron’s eyes flashed quick to Harry and Hermione. A sign, Harry could read, to not say anything more. This was all they’d be getting for the night. It wasn’t much, but anything helped, Harry thought.

At the very least, it seemed to mean that Draco was finally beginning to trust them. Maybe.

Through their shared wall, Harry listened to Draco fiddle with the wireless that night. It clicked past station after station, until Draco seemed to find one that was static enough to his liking. Harry heard a small thump, Draco putting it down, he assumed, then listened as Draco settled into bed.

Another failure.

Harry awoke just past midnight, and the sounds he heard had him choked up before he was even fully conscious.

This time, Draco was crying. He was saying, through tear-choked sobs, that he didn’t know where Potter was, he didn’t know who was in the Order, and he didn’t know how many times he had to tell them the same thing, over and over. He begged and begged until Harry couldn’t stand it, and shoved a pillow over his own head, desperate to stop the pain building in his chest from the misery in Draco’s voice.

After half an hour of this, Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up, took a deep breath, then tip-toed to Draco’s bedroom.

When he creaked open the door, Draco didn’t wake. In the muted moonlight streaming in through the boarded up window, Harry could see streaks of tears down Draco’s pale face, shimmering like dew on grass. Harry sighed, then walked over to Draco’s bed. He sat, as quietly as he could manage, as Draco continued to thrash, mumbled and unintelligible pleads spilling from his mouth like broken prayers.

And with all the gentle measure he could manage, he reached up and put his palm against the side of Draco’s face, hoping to gently wake him from his nightmare.

Draco didn’t wake.

But he did calm.

Harry watched, in frozen shock, as Draco turned his head toward Harry’s palm. At once, his face softened, as he pressed harder against it, breathing in Harry’s skin like it had been the answer all along. Harry stared, not daring to move, as Draco continued to sleep soundly for the next ten minutes. He didn’t stir, or thrash, or mumble. He only slept. His face was still and content.

When Harry’s arm went numb, and he couldn’t justify staying any longer, he removed his arm as gently as possible, stood up, then walked as quietly as he could back to his room. And from what Harry could tell, Draco slept through the rest of the night in complete silence.

When Harry saw Draco the next morning, his face heated immediately, as though something far more scandalous had happened between them in that shadowy room.

“How’d you sleep?” Harry choked out.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “Differently,” he said after a moment. “I think… I think I still had nightmares, but maybe not as many…” He looked up. “I suppose the muggles might be on to something with that ‘white sound’ of theirs.”

“White noise,” Harry corrected automatically.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He walked off, and Harry considered telling him about what might have actually helped. But he didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know if he could stand the look on Draco’s face as he did.

Around midday, it began to rain. It started as a dull drizzle, but really began to pick up around dinner, with thunder and lightning to boot.

“Rain is also a sort of white noise,” Harry explained as he picked his way through the bland vegetables that Ron had cooked. They’d run out of spices months ago, and were meant to get a package from Katie Bell a few weeks ago, but it never showed up. Harry was trying very hard not to think too much about what that meant. It could only be bad, afterall.

“Should I not use the wireless, then?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. “Might be worth testing the rain instead. Maybe it will work better, I dunno,” he said, looking away, so he could hide in the truth he wasn’t admitting.

“Alright,” Draco said. “Whatever you think is best.”

Harry laughed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s your experiment, isn’t it? Don’t want to mess with the results.”

“Spoken like a true scientist,” Harry said, smiling.

“That’s a muggle thing, isn’t it?” Draco asked. “I think Blaise once… he explained.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Draco watched, as though expecting him to continue.

“Er— Another time, maybe. It’s complicated,” Harry said, shrugging. Afterall, he still hadn’t found a good way to manage his rudimentary knowledge of science against the existence of magic. He definitely didn’t have enough that he felt confident to explain it to Draco. All of that sounded like something he ought to leave up to those Ministry researchers in the Department of Mysteries.

If there were any of them left, that is.

Harry heard Draco open his window that night. The wireless was off, just as Draco said it would be, and with the sound of rain falling outside of his own window, Harry felt himself pulled to sleep even quicker than usual.

He woke to the sound of Draco yelling. For a moment, Harry’s heart thudded, as Draco sounded more lucid than usual, but only a moment later, Harry realised it was only another nightmare. They weren’t under a real attack. At least, for now.

And like a true scientist, Harry felt he had to test this new theory of his.

He walked, as quietly as he could manage again, to Draco’s room. With a gentle touch, he opened the door, and Draco’s shouts got louder as he moved in, and the space between them cleared of walls, and doors.

And then, a sudden clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning that was far too close, and Draco was shooting up, shouting, eyes wide-open and wild.

“Potter?!” he demanded to the open air, hand over his chest. “What on— what on earth…”

“Sorry!” Harry said, gasping, staring. “You were… you were having another nightmare, I’m sorry, and last night, damnit, I’m sorry—”

Draco’s breaths finally settled, as he continued to stare bewildered at Harry. “What?” he asked again, shaking his head, eyes darting around the room, as though looking for more assailants hidden in the corners.

Well, Harry figured. The ruse was up. He began to explain.

“Last night, you were having a nightmare, so I came in, and I tried to wake you up, but, I dunno, when I touched you… you actually slept soundly, for once, and I wanted… I wanted to see if it worked again… I dunno, I’m sorry,” Harry admitted, his cheeks heating hot and strong. He felt embarrassed, and horrible, and very, very stupid.

Draco only stared at him, mouth still parted.

“Right, well, sorry, again. Goodnight,” Harry said, turning on his heel and walking toward the door.

“Wait.”

Harry’s heart thudded. He turned around to Draco staring at him.

“What?” Harry asked.

“If that… if that worked,” Draco said, speaking softly and slowly, “we should test it, again, shouldn’t we?”

“Are… are you sure?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded, though he still looked scared, as though waiting for the trick surely just around the corner. And Harry could only stare at him, struck into a bit of awe, as Draco, in small little movements, edged to one side of his narrow bed.

He was making room for Harry.

Saying nothing, too afraid to ruin this momentary miracle, Harry walked forward, then climbed into bed beside Draco. And, still staring at him, Harry lied down, laying his head on Draco’s other pillow, as Draco mirrored him, staring right back. All movements that might, in any other scenario, be simple and common, but, in this exact scenario, couldn’t be more improbable. Couldn’t be more miraculous.

“Where, er—” Draco asked, his voice hoarse, likely from the yelling, “did you… where—”

“Here,” Harry answered, bringing his hand up as slowly as he could manage, trying his best not to startle Draco. He laid it against Draco’s cheek, the exact way he had the night before. Draco’s cheek felt just as soft to the touch.

And at his touch, Draco’s eyes widened, then flicked to Harry’s hand, where it cradled his cheek. And then they shot back to Harry, who could really see how grey they were in this close proximity. They were the same shade as the stone walls of Hogwarts, or maybe they were more like the gentle grey clouds that covered the English sky in the winter. They seemed to have that same sort of diffused glow, as though sunlight lingered behind them.

And Harry could smell the spearmint again.

“I don’t think I can fall asleep like this,” Draco said after a moment, the corner of his mouth creaking up into a smile.

“Oh!” Harry said, a small breath. “Right, of course,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“Maybe, um,” Draco said, before pausing.

And Harry watched as Draco turned over, facing away. For a moment, Harry was confused, until he felt Draco’s hand, his sharp narrow fingers, grab his own.

So they could pull Harry’s arm up and over, so that it would wrap around Draco’s waist.

Even with the thunder and rain outside, there was no way that Draco couldn’t hear the sound of Harry’s heart, as it hammered in his chest.

“This alright?” Draco asked. “I think this might be the only way we can fall asleep, if you’re supposed to be touching me, and all.”

Harry coughed, his mind like fuzz. “Yeah… this, er— it works.”

“Alright,” Draco said. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” Harry said, wondering if maybe all of this was a dream. A really, really good dream.

And Draco was mad if he thought Harry could fall asleep like this.

But Harry didn’t exactly mind. He was more absorbed with marvelling over how different Draco was now, how easy and pliant he had become. Harry couldn’t imagine the Draco of his younger years ever entertaining this sort of thing from Harry. Ever agreeing to sleep in the same bed with him, with Harry’s arm laying curled around his waist. Ever trusting Harry to only want what’s good for him.

But, Harry supposed, war tends to do that. Change people. Soften their edges. Or harden them, sometimes. Harry was glad that it hadn’t broken Draco. From the stories they’d heard, the visions Harry had seen, through Voldemort’s eyes, of what had been done to Draco, that too was a miracle, all of its own. A miracle that Draco was still alive, beneath Harry’s arm. That that good heart of his, that he’d spent so long pretending didn’t exist, still beat inside of him.

Beneath Harry’s arm, Draco’s breaths seemed to deepen.

Harry realised that the tosser had actually fallen asleep. He huffed out a silent laugh, then closed his eyes and tried to sleep himself. And despite how impossible of an idea it was, to think he could relax with Draco only a few inches from him, with the warmth of Draco’s waist, pressed tight against Harry’s arm, the gentle rumble of Draco’s magic, teeming beneath his skin… There was also the sound of rain, a constant patter against the forest around them, and the smell of ozone and wet dirt that blew in with every breeze, and all of it together began to culminate into Harry actually succumbing to the sweet quiet of sleep.

Harry awoke to the stream of sunlight, and something tickling his nose.

He wrenched his eyes open, and in the blurry haze without his glasses, realised something very quickly.

During the night, Harry had somehow managed to shift even closer to Draco. So close, in fact, that Draco was now pressed entirely against him, still breathing slowly, still asleep. But his back was tight to Harry’s chest, and their legs were tangled up together beneath the sheets, and he could feel Draco’s arse, pressed right up against him, and—

Immediately, Harry’s heart set to hammering again, at the feeling of Draco’s warmth, now basically surrounding him.

And Harry, unable to help himself, could only pull Draco even closer, dipping his own head forward, and pressing his face against the back of Draco’s neck.

Harry fell back asleep, surrounded by the smell of lavender.

When Harry woke up the second time, he was alone. Ignoring the weird thud in his heart at that realisation, Harry got up, and trudged back to his room to get dressed.

He nearly walked straight into Hermione on the way.

She stared at him, her mouth opening and shutting, as though cycling through a hundred different things to say.

“Were… were you in Malfoy’s room?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Er— yeah,” Harry said, scratching at his head, feeling his cheeks redden. He looked everywhere but Hermione’s eyes. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Okay.”

In surprise, Harry met her eyes.

She smiled.

And that was all they said of it.

Harry eventually found Draco, crouching in their back garden and surveying over their collection of recently sprouted herbs.

“Hi—”

“The basil doesn’t need to be in this prime of a location,” Draco said, at once.

“Oh.”

“In fact, you could probably swap it with the rosemary— they usually like a bit more sun than I think the one you’ve got here is getting,” he continued. “Rosemary is Mediterranean, so that means they like pretty much all the sun they can get, but basil is tropical, so all that sun it’s currently getting might be drying it out, I think. At least, from what I remember.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “You can, er— take it over, if you’d like. I’m sure Hermione would like the reprieve.”

“Okay,” Draco said, standing back up. “I’ll talk to her.”

Harry watched as he walked stiffly past him, and, as though on instinct, couldn’t help but shoot his hand out, to grab at Draco’s thin wrist.

Draco startled, before staring back down again at Harry with those big grey eyes that Harry was getting to know so well.

“How did you sleep?” Harry asked.

Draco scanned over Harry’s face before responding. “Better.”

“Good,” Harry said, nodding. He released Draco’s wrist.

And Draco took a step inside, and Harry wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but then, just before he’d walked away entirely, Draco turned back around.

“Again, tonight?” he asked, over his shoulder, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “We ought to be thorough. For the experiment, I mean.”

And, miraculously, Draco laughed.

That night, Harry spent a good twenty minutes sitting on his bed. It was one thing to sneak into Draco’s bedroom in the middle of the night, heralded in by a nightmare, but it was another thing entirely to go off to bed with him. Like they were… like they were something else.

But ever the brave Gryffindor, Harry managed.

He crossed down the hallway, wondered briefly if Hermione ever did this with Ron, before he knocked on Draco’s door, just twice.

“Come in,” Draco said.

So Harry did.

The only light came from a flickering oil lamp on the rusted metal bedside table next to Draco’s side of the bed.

Draco’s side, Harry repeated in his head, accompanied by a weird, almost painful, thud of his heart.

Draco was holding a book between his slender fingers.

“What’re you reading?” Harry asked, as he forced himself to continue forward, climbing into bed with Draco like any part of this was normal. Like it was routine.

“A muggle book,” Draco answered. “The Great Gatsby. I found it in the cellar.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “How is it?”

“A bit sad.”

“Oh.”

Draco sighed, stuffed the ripped bit of paper he must have been using as a bookmark back inside the book, then placed the book on the bedside table. Immediately after, he blew out the lamp, sending them into a sudden darkness.

Harry lied back down, but couldn’t bring himself to pull Draco back into the position they were in last night. It was too much, he felt. He’d need Draco to do it, or else he’d never allow himself something so unbelievable.

“Potter,” Draco said, still sitting up, and not looking at him.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. “Yeah?”

“Is this… is this part of your whole… saving-people-thing?” Draco asked.

“What?” Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“I heard Granger call it that, back in sixth year, after you told Pansy that you’d find a way so she wouldn’t have to go back home for Christmas… you know, after you heard about her family, and how terrified—”

“No,” Harry said, interrupting him. “I, er— I know what you’re referring to, I mean.”

“So?” Draco asked again, still not looking at him. “Is it?”

Harry paused, bit at his lip. How was he supposed to tell Draco that no, it wasn’t? It was something far, far more than that. Something that Harry might not have had the words for yet. Something that Harry wanted all to himself.

“No,” Harry finally said, after a moment.

Draco didn’t respond, continuing to stare forward.

So Harry reached his hand out, graced his fingertips along the cotton back of the t-shirt that Draco was wearing to sleep. Draco once wore silk pyjamas to bed, Harry knew, but he didn’t have them anymore. He didn’t have anything of his own, really, since he had no idea he was to be rescued, and therefore no clue to pack any sort of bag on that night that Harry and Ron had broken into Malfoy Manor like thieves, coming for his rescue.

Instead, Draco wore a combination of Harry’s and Ron’s clothing, along with some other bits and pieces they’d managed to collect in the long time they’d spent on the run. A flannel shirt Oliver Wood had forgotten to pack when he’d left, after only the one night with them. A thick heavy sweater that Lavender Brown gave to Hermione after Hermione had mentioned to her how cold the nights were getting, back in November.

A wool beanie that now had one or two holes, but that Harry still treasured deeply, because it had come from Colin Creevy, on the last time Harry had seen him before he’d been murdered in cold blood by Alecto Carrow.

Harry thought Draco might have shivered at his touch, as his fingers trailed along the ridges of Draco’s spine. Draco turned around, and Harry could only just make out his eyes in the heavy dark of the room. In the momentary silence, Harry could hear that the rain had started up again, just barely.

“Then what is this?” Draco asked.

Harry sat up fully. He placed his hand back against Draco’s cheek, and felt the warmth of his skin beneath his palm. For a moment, Draco looked at peace.

“It’s me being selfish,” Harry said, then leaned forward and kissed him.

He felt Draco gasp beneath him, and waited, unmoving, so he could allow Draco the space to choose for himself what he wanted next.

And Harry really did feel selfish, as he sat there, in the middle of all that tragedy and war, because, in that moment, he’d never felt so lucky. No, all he could feel was unbridled, selfish relief, as he felt Draco kiss him back.

Draco’s lips pressed firm against Harry’s, and Harry’s hands fell to Draco’s waist, where he pulled him in tighter, finally succumbing to something he’d always wanted and never thought he’d have, never thought he’d be lucky enough to find.

It felt like everything Harry had always dreamed it might, yet somehow more, somehow brighter, and stronger. As Draco’s lips slid against his, and as his tongue glided out, soft against Harry’s lip, Harry wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing. If he still needed to, at all.

Draco pushed him by the shoulders, until they were lying down, Draco half draped across Harry’s chest as he continued to kiss him, demanding, yet soft, almost like those fights they used to fall into like clockwork, but with the need, raw and scorching, that underscored all of them.

Harry doesn’t know how long they laid there, kissing, praying into each other’s bodies like they might never see the sun again. He felt as though they’d slipped into some pocket of time, far away from the world surrounding them. Because it no longer felt like war.

At some point, they fell asleep, Harry’s arms around Draco, holding him, enveloping him, like the promise Harry wanted to make him, that he’d never let Draco suffer again, the way Harry knew he had. It was an impossible promise, Harry knew that. But he wanted to make it all the same. He wanted to make it to Draco every night. He wanted to find a way to hold this fragile incredible thing safe in the palm of his hand.

He knew it was impossible. He knew everything around them was as temporary as the frost that lingered in the trees during the dark morning hours, before the sun rose to melt it all. Harry knew that, at any moment, he could die, he could be captured, he could finally meet the death he was famous for evading. He knew they were all living on borrowed time.

But in that moment, with Draco’s lips on his, and the feeling of Draco’s heart beating against Harry’s chest, Harry felt, for the first time in quite a while, the bright flicker of hope.

And that night, Draco didn’t have a single nightmare at all.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Illumi x Reader x ??????

Part 21

part 20

part 22

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @merinfawleygoestohogwarts @shidoni-san @living4tomrua

if you want to be tagged in the next update, comment a red heart ❤️ and make sure your blog can be mentioned/tagged!!

A/N: 100 Jenny=1 USD. Also I decided to treat y’all with some fluff because the story is about to become angsty in the next few chapters ><

(Name) peered into the dark hallway, the feeling of eyes on her causing her to hesitate. She’d just left the dining hall, having been confused when she was the only one to eat dinner. Usually there was at least one other person, but tonight was different.

The Zoldyck Manor was always cold, but tonight (Name) regretted not wearing a cardigan over her thin summer dress. She usually was able to tolerate the chill, but the lack of light and her arms bare to the world caused her to shiver.

Making her way to her room in the dark wasn’t easy, especially when she couldn’t stop turning around to see if someone was following her.

It was quiet, too quiet. She should have at least seen or heard a butler cleaning or roaming the halls, but they wasn’t a single soul and sight. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone?

(Name) opened the door to her room, closing it behind her as quickly as possible. She held a hand to her chest, her heart thumping painfully against her ribs. She couldn’t understand why she felt so scared, but upon entering the sanctity of her room, the feeling of eyes on her vanished.

Had it all been her imagination, a cocktail of her fear of the dark and the strange quiet that had overtaken the manor? Perhaps.

She readied herself for bed, changing into a pair of pajamas and slipping between the sheets before passing out.

—————

“Illumi.”

Hisoka stood directly outside (Name)’s room, listening to the sound of her sleeping. Said assassin had a vice grip on the magician’s arm, his eyes wide and wild.

“Why are you stopping me? Having second thoughts?”

Illumi bit his lip hard enough for red droplets to dribble down his pale chin, his eyes boring into Hisoka’s with an intensity enough to make the magician moan. “And what if I am?”

Hisoka grinned at the man, easily removing Illumi’s hand from his arm. “Then you’re more of a lovesick fool than I thought.”

Illumi watched Hisoka leave, the magician stopping near the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be headed to the Heavens Arena. I have some…” he licked his lips, groaning lightly, “new toys to play with.”

And with that, he was gone.

Illumi looked down at his hands, his vision blurry. Why did he hesitate? She needed to be taught a lesson, to learn her place in the world, with him. He just wanted to protect her…

But would he really be protecting her if he allowed her to get hurt? Wasn’t that just hypocritical?

He had thought he could bare it, thinking that her momentary suffering would be for the greater good.

But then he remembered how he felt when he saw her on the infirmary bed, barely clinging to life. He hadn’t told her that his match with her had nearly taken her life, because he didn’t want to believe it himself. How could one person be so weak to go into shock from a few broken ribs?

Right then and there Illumi had promised himself to keep her from harm, and yet there he was, planning on using her pain to manipulate her.

Was he really worthy of thinking he could protect her, when he couldn’t even protect her from himself?

Maybe she could survive a broken leg, but what if she couldn’t? What would he do if his jealousy and paranoia was the cause of her death? Could he ever forgive himself?

Illumi opened the door to her room, approaching the bed as if he was on a job, quiet as a mouse. He watched over her sleeping form, her chest rising and falling in rhythm.

He kneeled beside her, pushing a few pieces of hair out of her face, marveling at her beauty. ‘Soft…’ he thought, his fingers digging into the fat of her cheek just hard enough to take in the texture.

She stirred slightly, whining in her sleep at the feeling of him poking her cheek. (Name) swatted at his hand sleepily before turning away, snuggling into her pillow.

Illumi couldn’t help but chuckle. While awake, she may have put up with his shenanigans with a sweet smile, but no one liked being disturbed in their sleep.

Illumi began to think of how he may have dehumanized her and her kindness. For some reason, he assumed any transgression he committed against her would be forgiven because of her big heart. After all, she became his friend even after knowing he was an assassin and had been unkind to Killua. Surely there was no limit to the kindness she was willing to dish out?

No. (Name) was human, and Illumi shuttered to think how she might react if his plan was ever uncovered. If he had gone through with it, would she ever forgive him? Would she look at him with that pretty smile on her face and roll over, allowing him to step all over her tender flesh?

She loved like a dog, but dogs can bite back.

Illumi studied her face, taking in every detail. What would he do if she ever left him? Would he take her back by force? He didn’t want to think about that. She wouldn’t leave him, not unless he gave her a reason to.

“Illumi?”

He hadn’t noticed her (e/c) had opened until he heard her voice. (Name) blinked the sleep away from her eyes as illumi leaned back, sweat beading down his forehead.

Illumi usually didn’t have to think before doing something that would benefit him in the long run. If it meant he would get his way, he’d manipulate and hurt whoever he needed to.

But when (Name) looked up at him with those innocent (e/c) and sweet smile, he couldn’t help but shake away the thought from his mind. Of course he couldn’t hurt her, or have any part in causing harm to come her way. She was his light, the ray of sunshine in the darkness he was forced to dwell in.

“Did you just get back home?”

Illumi nodded. “Yes. Did you miss me?”

She giggled, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “Maybe!”

He leaned into her touch, allowing a pathetic sigh to leave his lips. “I missed you terribly, (Name).”

She sheepishly looked away and pulled her hand back. “It felt like someone was watching me earlier.” She changed the subject, hiding her flushed expression from him.

“Hmm. It must of been your imagination, but I’ll make sure we up security if it makes you feel any better.”

He watched her brows knit together. “It’s not just that, there haven’t been any butlers around since dinner. I don’t expect them to be working all night, but usually they’re everywhere. It was a little unsettling.”

She was more perceptive than he’d given her credit for. Illumi only nodded in response, sitting on the bed.

“They could be busy with something, like tending to my family or fending off intruders.” Illumi said, avoiding her eyes. He couldn’t look her in the eyes and blatantly lie. He may be able to get away with half truths, but she could tell when he was straight up lying.

“Hmm. I didn’t think anyone would try to intrude on a family of assassins.” (Name) mused, playing with her hair.

“It’s more common than you think. That’s why we have Mike.”

“Ah. That makes sense…”

It did make sense, it really did, but something was wrong. She didn’t know what was, but something at the back of her mind was telling her he wasn’t being completely truthful. She pushed these thoughts away.

‘Illumi is my friend, he wouldn’t hurt me. Ever.’

She let her hands rest in her lap, a yawn escaping her lips. “I’m going to go back to sleep. Goodnight Illumi.”

The man stood, taking one last look at her before leaving.

“Goodnight, (Name).”

When illumi returned to his room, he lifted the bag of Valentine’s Day treats into his arms, snacking on the baked goods. She’d made them with him in mind. There was dark chocolate, and the cookies were less sweet.

“What did I do to deserve such a wonderful girl?”

—————

(Name) was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the way people were staring at her.

After she’d woken up, Illumi escorted her to breakfast and hadn’t left her side since. Every employee and butler seemed to gawk at her, Illumi sending a glare to every single one.

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked after Illumi had taken her to the training hall to work out. He shook his head, giving her a once over.

“Nothing is out of place. Is there a reason you’re asking?”

He already knew the answer. The night before he told the employees that she’d be leaving her room in the morning with a broken leg, but she was walking around just fine. After she fell asleep, he had crept back into her room to watch her until she woke up. It was the only thing that could quell his anxious heart.

Thanks to that, he hadn’t informed the employees his change in plans, making them unaware of the situation at hand.

“Sorry, it’s nothing.”

He watched her smooth out her shirt before relaxing onto the floor.

Illumi was a lot easier on her than Kalluto was, only having her walk half a mile and do 3 sets of 10 push ups to warm up. He seemed to be softer on her in a lot of ways, except when it came to criticism.

“That stance is incorrect. If you were attacked, they would be able to knock you over instantly.”

He demonstrated by kicking her feet out from under her then catching her against his chest. “See?”

She nodded, standing again. “Mmm, that’s better, not perfect but better.”

It went on like this for a while, putting her into different stances before they broke for lunch.

————————

A few months passed like this, with Illumi training her day in and out. She was improving, and fast. Before, she could barely hold Ren for a few minutes at a time, and now she was holding it for up to 30 minutes.

Her fighting skills were getting better, but her real talent was her nen ability.

(Name) was a specialist, focusing on healing. With a single touch, she could heal surface wounds. Applying pressure would help heal bruises. With a kiss, she could mend gashes and broken bones with ease, although this skill took a lot of energy.

The more intimate and the more pressure applied the more effective the healing. It also had a lot to do with her feelings for that specific person. If she cared for them, her nen was more effective.

She hadn’t tested her ability on someone she hated yet, so she was unsure of what would happen if she did. (Name) knew in her heart, however, that her ability would never work on someone she hated, and may even be used to hurt them.

If her ability was based off of feelings and intimacy, there was a burning question that needed to be answered.

Would sexual intercourse with someone she loved be the pinnacle of her ability?

Illumi had only brought up the topic once.

“(Name), your nen works based on intimacy, correct? The deeper the connection between you and the patient means the better your nen works.”

She nodded, not looking up from her book. He hummed, staring at her from the corner of his eye.

“Does that mean your ability would be its most powerful during sex?”

(Name) slammed her book shut, turning to look up at him with a shocked red face.

“Illumi! Why would you ask me that?” She scolded, the tips of her ears turning pink.

The man stared down at her, his eyes unreadable. “Well, I just want to know if you’ll be having sex with random people to heal them.”

“Nope, never. Kissing injuries is the farthest I’m willing to go.” She said, shaking her head rapidly.

He paused, grabbing her chin and turning her head in his direction.

“What if I was so badly injured that your kisses wouldn’t work?”

The room was silent, (Name)’s eyes wide. He’d never seen her so flustered, pride swelling in his chest that he made her feel this way.

(Name) smacked his hand away, picking up her book and going back to reading. “Let’s just hope that never happens.”

—————

It was now the middle of June, and (Name) had been working tirelessly to train her nen. Because of her hard work and efforts, she decided she deserved a day off, and wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Oh Illumi~”

(Name) burst into his room, having become much more comfortable with him over the past few weeks. Illumi lounged on his bed, shirtless with a pair of sweatpants that hung on his waist lazily.

Even though she was more relaxed in his presence, she still wasn’t used to seeing men, super attractive ones at that, shirtless all the time.

“Yes, (Name)?” Illumi gave her an amused smirk when she struggled to answer him, catching her eyeing his chest and abs.

“I… I want to go to town! Together!” She exclaimed, standing stiff in the doorway.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Illumi teased, earning a squeak from his friend.

“N-no! I just know you won’t let me go alone…” she mumbled, folding her arms.

She was wearing overalls over a pink sweater, a pair of rain boots on her feet. Ah, it had been raining lately, hadn’t it?

While she had gotten more comfortable around him, he was more comfortable teasing and poking at her. He enjoyed her reactions, but would always relent. Illumi didn’t want to make her dislike him, after all.

“Mmm… alright. I get to pick out where we go this time.”

——————

Illumi stepped out of the limousine, an amused smirk on his face.

(Name) had picked out his outfit, a white tshirt and jeans(he didn’t often wear jeans, but still had them for the off chance he wanted to wear them).

Even wearing such a simple outfit, he was still ogled at by both the male and female population.

This is what amused Illumi. (Name) had taken a possessive grip on his wrist, giving his admirers dirty looks as she escorted him into the place Illumi had picked.

“Hello, welcome to the Padokea Aquarium, how may I help you?”

A pretty blonde sat behind the counter, smiling politely. (Name) approached, Illumi’s hand still in her’s.

“Hi, I bought our tickets online!”

(Name) pulled up the receipts on her phone and the woman scanned them. Illumi almost laughed. She was sneaky, buying his ticket for him when he wasn’t looking. “Here, I’ll need to stamp your hand.”

(Name) let go of Illumi’s hand temporarily to get her hand stamped, then watched as the blond held his hand tenderly to stamp his. (Name) frowned, Illumi catching it out of the corner of his eye.

“There you go! Would you like to purchase a chip to exchange to feed the stingrays? They’re 15000 Jenny a piece!”

(Name) pursed her lips. “Sorry, but n-“

“We’ll take two.”

Illumi sat the money on the table, picking up the chips and handing one to (Name) she looked at it, an embarrassed, yet giddy smile on her face.

She didn’t know Illumi knew her better than she thought.

flashback

(Name), then a much younger girl, hummed to herself as she dropped wild blackberries into her basket. She’d been waiting for Illumi for a while now, and decided to waste some time by collecting blackberries.

After all, it was her fault for getting the time they were supposed to meet mixed up. She was a bit of a ditz, really.

“What are you doing?”

Illumi had appeared behind her, observing her from his place leaned against a tree. Although she had gotten more used to him randomly appearing in a close proximity to her, she still jumped when he did.

“Oh, Illumi! I got here early so I decided to pick these wild blackberries! They make a super good jam that I sell in town.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What do you plan on doing with the money you make?”

She looked to him, her eyes sparkling. This was the first time his heart thumped against his chest when she looked at him, the young assassin ignoring it quickly.

“I’m gonna get some tickets to the Padokea Aquarium! We have a school field trip there next week, and all I have to do is make 30000 Jenny to go!”

Illumi would have offered to pay for her ticket, anything to keep that wistful smile on her face, but he knew she disliked receiving help from others. She was stubborn like that.

“I see. I guess I’ll pick some with you. Just bring some toast and jam next time you visit and I’ll consider it payment.”

The two spent their time together picking blackberries, though most of them ended up stuffed in their mouths.

Their next meet up was less fun.

(Name) was 15 minutes late, Illumi looking down at his watch with a scowl. She would be a little late sometimes, but 15 minutes was stretching it.

Before he could make his way to her home, she appeared in the tree line, her head slumped and her movements slow. He was quick to pick up on this, approaching her quietly.

“(Name)? Is something the matter?”

When she looked up at him, he felt his heart catch in his throat. She had a big bruise on her cheek, with eyes red and puffy from crying. The girl sniffled, plopping down on the stump.

“What happened?”

Illumi didn’t come into physical contact with (Name) often, but he couldn’t help his fingers lifting to brush against her cheek, his eyes wide with anger.

“… I didn’t get to go to the aquarium.” She answered, leaning into his touch. He scowled, lifting her chin for her to meet his eyes.

“What else?”

She could tell he meant business. If she lied or refused to tell him, he’d be angry. He had his ways of getting the truth out of her anyway, so there was no use in lying.

“I… I raised all the money to go, even enough to feed the stingrays… but…”

Tears fell from her already puffy eyes, Illumi stiffening.

“When I got to school, some of my classmates attacked me and took my money. The teachers wouldn’t believe me, so I had to stay at school while everyone else went to the aquarium.”

She was full on sobbing now, her head resting against his chest. For once, he allowed her this comfort, his fingers running through her hair as he seethed.

“… do you want me to kill them?”

(Name) looked up at him with her teary eyes, seeing he was being completely serious. She sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling into him.

“… no. Just… let me stay like this for a while.”

And he did. He allowed her to soak his shirt with tears and snot, only moving when she did. They sat together in silence for a while, her head leaned against his shoulder.

She never mentioned being bullied again, but Illumi was looking for signs now.

At least every other visit she arrived a bit less cheerful, sometimes with injuries or red, puffy eyes. It hurt him to see her like that, but he wouldn’t go against her wishes.

Illumi would promise himself to take her to the aquarium one day, and get her whatever she laid her eyes on. After all, she had showered him in love and small gifts, why couldn’t he do the same?

flashback end

That had been when Illumi first started to fall in love with her. Even though she was weak and helpless, he couldn’t help being drawn to her sweet nature and determination.

He laughed at the memory, causing (Name) to look up in confusion.

“What are you laughing at?” She asked, her hand back in his. He shook his head, walking with her towards the first part of the aquarium.

“Just a funny memory.”

She nodded, her attention on the first attraction. She rushed forward, pressing her cheek against the glass to get a better look at the fish. They were gold in color, swimming around the tank lazily.

“Illumi! Come here!”

(Name) turned back to look at the man, but his attention was on something else.

A woman had approached him. She was a pretty thing. Tall, thin, with big eyelashes and soft makeup that highlighted her natural beauty. The woman wore a simple pink dress, her hand resting a bit TOO comfortably against Illumi’s shoulder.

“Hi there, what’s a handsome man like you doing visiting an aquarium all by himself?”

She batted her eyelashes, leaning in closer. (Name) felt herself scowl, rushing forward to put some distance between the two.

“He’s not alone, actually.”

(Name) butted her way between them, intertwining her fingers with his. The girl looked her up and down, a less than friendly smile on her lips.

“Oh, I see. You guys dating?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. (Name) paused.

They weren’t dating, so why did she have a right to get in between Illumi and a possible love interest? She began to back off, when Illumi wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“We are. Is there something you need?”

The woman was quick to leave, apologizing for butting in on their date. This left (Name) alone with Illumi, her head buried in his chest.

“She’s gone. Let’s continue.”

Illumi didn’t acknowledge her bashful face, but he did notice. He just took her hand and continued through the aquarium, stopping to watch (Name) gush over the fish and take pictures.

“… I don’t like when people approach you like that.”

(Name) spoke suddenly as her and Illumi licked ice cream cones he’d bought for them. They sat on a bench in front of a large tank, watching the various sea life swim by.

“Why, jealous?” he teased, stopping when she pouted.

“No, it just upsets me when I see them looking at you like that. It’s like you’re a piece of meat to them, but I know you’re not. You’re so much more.”

Illumi could feel the tips of his ears turning pink, licking his ice cream faster to cool down. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure I caught you looking at me this morning.”

He cut his eyes to her, watching as she gasped and turned red. “You saw that? Ugh…”

She covered her flustered face, turning away. “You’re right, I’m no better than them.”

He sighed, pulling her close to him again. “I didn’t say that. You’ve never treated me differently because you find me attractive. Besides…”

He wiped his thumb against her lip, lifting it to his mouth to lick the ice cream that had been there off. “I don’t mind it, if it’s you.”

This time she wasn’t able to hide her red face, gaping at the man. It took her a few minutes to process what had happened as the gears turned in her brain. She shyly nuzzled her head into his arm, a pout on her lips. Illumi stood after a while, helping her up.

“Silly girl. Let’s keep moving.”

————

The rest of the visit to the aquarium was spent with (Name) holding onto his arm possessively, flaring up like an angry chihuahua when someone approached them. Illumi couldn’t lie, it felt nice to be protected so fiercely by the woman he loved.

“Oh, it’s the stingray feeding station!”

(Name) was jumping up and down, stars in her eyes. “Illumi, have I ever said you’re the bestest friend ever?”

He chuckled, leading her towards the exhibit. “A few times, yes.”

The two entered the room, taking in the smell of saltwater. (Name) almost passed out from excitement, taking in the sight with wide eyes.

There was a small booth set up in the corner where they exchanged their chips for two small buckets of fish. Illumi watched (Name) lean against the wall of the sting way tank, her heartbeat loud enough for Illumi’s keen ears to hear.

“Illumi. They’re so cute I’m gonna die.”

The little stingrays swam by (Name), the girl watching with her jaw agape. Watching her be so excited to see some fish made Illumi sigh in contentment, his heart soaring.

“Why don’t you try feeding them?” He offered, (Name) nodding.

She offered the stingray some fish between her fingers like the booth operated had instructed, gasping when it took the food from her hands.

“Ack!! Weird mouth!” She squealed, reeling back. Illumi caught her before she could slip and fall.

“(Name), you must be more careful.”

She could feel a laugh rumbling in his chest, a halfhearted pout on her lips.

The two spent a good 30 minutes feeding the stingrays and taking pictures. Illumi offered to buy her one, but she quickly declined, stating she had no idea how to take care of a stingray.

When they had their fill of the stingray exhibit, they exited the aquarium and entered the gift shop.

(Name) looked around, nothing really catching her attention. That was, until she saw a stingray plush with big dark eyes, reminding her of illumi. She checked her wallet, frowning when she realized she wouldn’t have enough.

As she turned away, illumi grabbed the plush, bringing it to the counter and checking out before she could even think. He plopped the stingray into her arms nonchalantly.

“Here, a souvenir.” He stated, not looking at her as he exited the gift shop. She followed behind him, carrying the large plush in her arms.

“Lumiii, wait up!” She called, jogging to catch up with him. She grabbed hold of his sleeve, huffing. “You’re always so fast.”

“Am I fast, or are you slow?”

He waited for her to snap back, but the feeling of her grip on his sleeve tightening caused him to look back.

Her eyes were focused on a man just a few feet away from them. He was handsome, with short, curly blonde hair and striking green eyes. “Hey (Name)!”

The man jogged forward, stopping in front of the pair. (Name) visibly tensed, her eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. Illumi scowled at this.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Moved away when we were in high school, yeah?”

He grabbed her shoulder, gripping it lightly. Illumi stiffened.

“… Lee, what do you want?”

Her usual friendly and upbeat voice was low and hostile, pushing his hand off her shoulder.

“Aww, don’t be like that (Name). It’s been 10 years, aren’t you over that yet?”

He grinned down at her, like a shark circling its prey. (Name) scowled, grabbing Illumi’s hand and walking off. She didn’t so much as glance in his direction again, rushing to blend in with the crowd exiting the aquarium.

Illumi watched this all silently, not speaking until the two found themselves in a cafe, (Name) sitting across from him at a small booth.

“What was that about?”

She rubbed the place the man had grabbed her shoulder, disgust apparent on her face. “I have no idea. I knew the guy from elementary to high school. We were really good friends, until…”

She shook her head, trying to shake the memories from her mind. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past. I don’t want to talk about him.”

Illumi leaned his cheek against his hand. Now this was strange. (Name) had never mentioned having any friends in high school, not to him at least. By the way she reacted to his presence, the man had to have done something bad enough to earn her distaste.

“What would you two like to order?”

—————

The pair strolled through town with their hands connected. Illumi would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself. It felt like they were on a date, something he’d never gotten to experience before.

Illumi was an attractive man, so he’d been asked out many times in his life, but never felt the urge to accept the requests. Now, though, he regretted that a bit, because he had no experience in dating.

Thankfully, (Name) was a natural. Maybe it was because she saw this as a friendly outing instead of date, but she never made anything awkward and always had something for them to do.

They visited the city park next. (Name) pointed out a secluded bench and they sat together, relaxing under the afternoon sun.

“Oh, Lumi, that cloud looks like a heart!”

She shook his shoulder to get his attention and pointed at the sky.

“Mmm. It looks like a cloud to me.”

He was being completely serious. Illumi didn’t have much of an imagination, so finding shapes in clouds wasn’t something he was good at.

“Oh, those clouds look gray. Crap.”

(Name) stood suddenly, grabbing Illumi’s hand and rushing towards the entrance of the park. Before they could escape, rain started to poor down, soaking the pair. (Name) held her plush to her chest, attempting to shied it from the rain as they searched for somewhere to escape the rain.

They found shelter in a nearby clothing store. As soon as they were inside, Illumi opened his phone and called for the limousine. “Bring towels and a change of clothes for the both of us.”

(Name) sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall. “I hate running in denim. I’m gonna be chaffing everywhere.”

Illumi raised an eyebrow. “Chaffing?”

“Oh, it’s kind of like a rash? Happens when your clothes rub against your skin, for me it’s between my legs. I have thicker thighs and denim, especially wet denim, irritates my skin.”

He nodded, immediately looking between her legs. “I see. I’ve never experienced a problem like that.”

“That’s because your legs don’t rub together.” She explained, closing her legs when she noticed him staring.

Illumi hadn’t been exposed to different peoples way of life, so it was always interesting when he’d learn a new thing about (Name). Even if he may have thought her problems were silly sometimes, he’d listen and absorb any information about her life she was willing to give him.

“Master Illumi.”

Tsubone stood at the entrance to the store, her granddaughter Amane next to her. (Name) stood, brushing back her wet hair to try and look as put together as possible.

“We have brought towels and clothing. Let’s get you to the changing rooms, (Name).”

The girl paused, blinking. “I can change myself, you know.”

“Yes, she should be fine.” Illumi said, his eyes narrowing. What were they up to?

“Her wet clothing is quite heavy, and I’m afraid she might slip and hurt herself. Amane will accompany her, for safety reasons.”

“And what if I object to that?”

Illumi stood at (Name)’s side, his expression darkening by the second. He didn’t trust the two butlers at all. They were loyal to his father, after all, and Silva wasn’t known to send them out for just anything.

“Your father gave the direct order to keep (Name) safe. Allowing her to change by herself goes against that order.”

Illumi scowled, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t go against his father’s orders, even if he wanted to. Silva had ordered for (Name)‘s protection, but why?

“… alright. I will change as well.”

Illumi left to the men’s changing room, glancing back at (Name) one more time before disappearing from sight.

“Miss (Name), follow me!”

The woman named Amane offered her hand, which (Name) took hesitantly. ‘I didn’t get a say in any of that.’ She thought, letting Amane lead her to the changing room.

Once inside, Amane set down her clothing and towel, helping (Name) undress. The two butlers were right to worry, because when (Name) attempted to step out of her overalls she slipped on the water pooling on the floor. Amane caught her with ease, holding her steady until she was able to stand evenly again.

“My, you’re as clumsy as Master Silva said you are.” Amane stated, (Name) pouting in reply.

“But… apparently your nen ability is very interesting.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow. When did the subject of her nen get brought up?

Amane ran the towel up (Name)’s nude body, drying her off. “I heard you and Illumi were on a date today. How romantic.”

“Not a date.” (Name) mumbled, pulling the towel to her chest. Amane hummed, unfolding the dress that she’d picked out for (Name) to wear.

“Oh, what a shame. Illumi seems like he’s head over heels for you.”

This caused (Name) to freeze, the gears in her head spinning. Head over heels? No way. A handsome man like Illumi would never find a boring girl like her attractive.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, but it is. When he brought you home, he informed the butlers to take extra good care of you, since you’d be his future wife.”

Wife? You two were just friends, not even dating, where had the term wife come from? This was too much for (Name)’s mind to handle.

She did remember Illumi mentioning that his parents were interested in their relationship and they had called her his little girlfriend…

“Usually the Zoldycks participate in arranged marriages to other powerful nen users, so imagine Master Silva and Mistress Kikyo’s surprise when their eldest son brought home a woman with massive potential as his future bride. They were ecstatic!”

Amane continued, pulling the dress over (Name)’s head.

“You should really consider it. If you were to marry Illumi, not only would you be taken care of for life, but your family would be too.”

Amane toweled her hair dry.

“All you have to do is give Illumi an heir.”

(Name) gasped. “You mean… a child?”

Amane nodded, smiling at the girl sweetly. “Yes. Mistress Kikyo desperately wants grandchildren. The more the merrier, but one would do.”

(Name) wasn’t listening anymore. Marrying Illumi didn’t sound awful, after all he was handsome and sweet to her, but she hadn’t even been out on a date with him. She also wasn’t sure he even really liked her in that way. Illumi had warned her to be careful of his fathers personal servants.

But she couldn’t stop thinking of the last thing she’d heard. She’d need to bear Illumi a child, and that meant…

Her face turned a bright scarlet, her hands reaching up to cover it immediately.

“Just think it over. I mean, Master Illumi is handsome isn’t he? He would make a great husband.”

Amane left it at that, patting her head. (Name) followed her out of the changing room.

Illumi was waiting at the front of the store, having a stare off with Tsubone. When he noticed (Name) approach, his eyes softened.

She couldn’t make eye contact with him, her mind still racing. Illumi noticed this, his eyes cutting to amane.

“What did you say to her?”

Amane blinked innocently. “Nothing, just some girl talk. Right, (Name)?”

The girl nodded quickly, moving past Illumi to run to the limousine.

Illumi frowned. He turned his attention to the two butlers, his aura dark. “If I find out you said something to her, I’ll take care of you myself.”

Tsubone only nodded. “Of course, Master Illumi.”

——————

The car ride home was awkward. (Name) struggled to keep a conversation going, her eyes drifting from Illumi’s eyes to his exposed chest. Did they really have to bring such a low cut shirt for him?!

“Is something the matter?”

He reached out to cup her cheek, but she dodged him. “N-nothings ethe matter! Just thinking about wife- I mean life!!”

Illumi raised an eyebrow at this. “Okay. Well, we’re almost home.”

(Name) hated to make him worry over her, but it was hard when her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Did he really like her? When did that happen, and what about her had caught his attention?

She found herself smoothing out her hair, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. It was strange, he was always staring at her. Was that a sign that he liked her?

(Name) had never had a boy like her, that she was aware of. She had no dating experience, and little to no confidence in her appearance. Why would he like her? That was the biggest question on her mind.

“Illumi?”

The assassin looked up from the magazine he’d been flipping through. She didn’t recognize the company, but could see advertisements for weapons and assassinations. (Name) decided to not think too much about that. “Yes, (Name)?”

She twirled her hair, looking everywhere but at him.

“Do you have a type?”

He blinked, tilting his head. “Type? What do you mean?”

Oh, right. Illumi didn’t understand most phrases and what they meant.

“Oh, um… your type means what you like in a romantic partner. Like their personality, looks, etc.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so suspicious, but her asking that out of the blue was strange, especially considering his father’s servants had been alone with her just minutes ago.

“Oh, no reason. Just curious.”

Illumi hummed, leaning against his seat in thought. Did he have a type? He hadn’t really been interested in any person besides (Name), but if he had to put it into words…

“I like… honest women. Women that are kind, and affectionate.” he answered, listing the traits he liked about (Name).

“What about looks? Is there anything specific you look for in a woman’s appearance?” She prodded, Illumi becoming more and more suspicious by the second.

“Do I really need to answer that?”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Yes, it’s an important detail.”

“Important how?”

(Name) groaned. He just loved avoiding her questions with an inquiry of his own. It was something that annoyed her.

“Important because I’m curious!”

Illumi relented with a sigh. “I guess I prefer women with softer features. Though, I am not very picky. Appearances don’t matter to me really.”

That was mostly the truth. He did like women with softer, more plush bodies, at least he liked (Name)’s. Illumi had taken noticed of her newfound curves when he first laid eyes on her during the Hunter Exam, and he liked what he saw.

“Oh. I see.”

This wasn’t helping ease (Name)‘s mind. He’d practically described her! Did he really like her in that way, or was she reading into things?

“Now, what is your type, (Name)?”

Illumi leaned forward, staring at her with his dark eyes.

“Oh- um!” She sputtered, scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“I guess I like people that treat me kindly. I don’t care much about looks either, but… long hair is nice.”

He hummed, tilting her chin up so she was looking him in the eye.

“Do you like my long hair, (Name)?”

Her jaw dropped, unable to speak. Illumi laughed, dropping her chin and crossing his legs.

“Oh, I’m teasing. Of course you do.”

(Name) tried to respond, but she couldn’t get any words out. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, Illumi watching her with an amused expression.

——————

The two took a quick shower and changed before walking to dinner together. (Name) had put a little bit of extra effort into her appearance, wearing a soft sweater and knee length skirt. She had applied a bit of makeup and painted her nails, Illumi humming in appreciation.

“You look nice. What’s the occasion?”

He led her to the dining hall with a hand planted firmly on her waist.

“I just felt like dressing up. Is there a problem?”

He glanced down at her. “No, I quite like when you dress up.”

It was hard to hide how happy his compliment made her, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. Illumi caught this, his face growing hot. Did she like when he complimented her?

“Illumi, (Name), glad you could make it.”

Kikyo met them at the door, her cold smile growing wider at the sight of the pair. Illumi stood up straighter, his hand slipping from (Name)’s waist. “As are we, another.”

(Name) peeked past Kikyo to see that everyone was present in the dining room tonight. Kalluto caught her eye, giving her a small wave.

“Oh, let’s get seated. Your father has an announcement to make tonight.”

Illumi tensed. That could mean anything. What would he be announcing, with (Name) present?

The two took their seats, Illumi’s hand taking (Name)’s.

[kidrauhlschik]

2. Tangled Memories ~ Lee Know AU

Post Traumatic Amnesia (PTA) is a transient state of confusion, disorientation and memory loss that occurs immediately following a traumatic brain injury. PTA is sometimes also referred to as post traumatic confusional state and can occur from the moment of injury until the return of continuous memory.

The accident was a tragedy.

But it was the best tragedy to ever happen to you.

~

-

PT - 2 - See pt 1, 3, & 4 on the Masterlist linked above

Warnings: angst, f!reader, enemies to lovers, drunk driving, gaslighting, Fighting, yelling, cursing, angst, heartbreak, lies, angst, accidents, minho is mean, lmk if I missed anything!!

Words: 5.5k

~

In the hospital waiting area, the air felt thick with tension. No one could say a word, almost too afraid to speak.

It had been hours since the incident at that point. A witness came forward and gave their statement to the police. Apparently, you had been been walking alone with your eyes glued to your phone screen. When it came to the point of crossing the street, you made your way across without glancing up. Unaware that the light was red and a car was barreling down the road towards you. It had all happened very quick. A the sight of you, the driver immediately stepped on the brakes as he was speeding towards you, but the damage was done. No one dared to pick you up, too afraid of furthering the damage.

Once Minho told Chris what he had seen, the eight men packed themselves in two cars and sped to the hospital. Minho was planning to stay back but Chan wasn't having it. The second Minho said something in suggestion of not going, Chris blew up. You were his best friend after all.

He shoved Minho to the nearest wall. They never laid hands on each other, not like this. Minho's head hit the wall, causing a sharp pain, leaving him stunned, gaping at Christopher in confusion.

Chan got close to him, pointing an accusatory finger to his face.

"You're going, because you are the reason she walked out, you are the reason she was walking down the road, and you are the reason she's hurt right now. So god help me, Lee Minho, you better pray that she's okay because if she's not..." Chris stops himself from going further. He shoves Minho one last time and turns to grab his car keys.

Minho wanted to argue, he felt wrong going to the hospital, but Chan was right. He couldn't stand you, but he knows deep down, that if something serious happened to you, the guys would never forgive him. Indirectly, the accident was his own fault. So even now, in the waiting area, he knows that if he speaks, the response would be less than pleasant.

The doctor treating you emerges from the hallway, and immediately got swarmed by seven men, Minho being the only one to stay in the corner where he had been standing on for hours.

“Is she okay doctor? She’s okay, right?” Jeongin is the one to ask.

The doctor sighs and looks at his clipboard, “She’s going to be okay,” and a swarm of relieved sighs could be heard around the room. “Aside from a few broken ribs, a broken leg, and a broken arm, she held up pretty well. The team thinks that she took most impact on her arms, while trying to lessen the damage.”

“Can we see her?” Seungmin asks.

“She will be in a medically induced coma for a couple of days. However, I have to warn you. I was concerned with the damage the patient took to the head, so I decided to run some tests.”

“Tests? What kind of tests?” Felix’s voice drips with concern.

“The team ran an MRI, CAT, and an EEG scan. We wanted to ensure nothing was missed”

“I’m sorry doc, but what does that mean?” Jisung asks, not knowing what to make of what the doctor was saying.

The doctor takes all the boys in. They obviously cared deeply about you, so he knew that what he was about to say would severely affect them. “It means, that once we ran the tests, we came to find out that she received severe brain damage. We have a suspicion that she may suffer from post traumatic amnesia. We will not know for sure until she’s awake though, and through the EEG scan, it seems that she may suffer from seizures as well. She will need immersive care once she is released. I am truly sorry to inform you of this.”

At the news, Minho finally looks up from the tiled floor that he’d been inspecting. Much to his dismay, Chan meets his gaze. While Minho looks like a deer caught in headlights, Chan looks like he’s about to run him over.

Chris makes his way to the corner Minho was standing in.

“This is all your fault.” He says while Minho does his best to avoid his gaze. Chris knows that he is acting harshly, but in the midst of panic and pain, he couldn't help himself.

“I know.”

“I bet you’re happy aren’t you? You wanted her to go away, right? I hope you're happy. with what you've done” Tears well up in Chan’s eyes, imagining that there’s a possibility his best friend won’t remember him.

“Chan.” Minho begins, but Chan is quick to cut him off.

“When she wakes up, you apologize. You get on your fucking knees and apologize. When she’s out of here, you are taking care of her. You better make fucking sure to show how sorry you are.”

Minho wasn’t as concerned for your well being as the guys. However, he was concerned about the consequences. He was very aware that everyone in the room was truly angry at him. More than anything, he was aware of the guilt he felt. It felt as if he'd let everyone down, as if he was truly the monster everyone made him out to be.

“Okay.” Is the last thing Minho said to Chan.

-

It had been a week.

A week that everyone ignored Minho. He was kicked out of the group chat, he got the ignored every time he reached out to any of the guys, and he got the cold shoulder anytime he’d see one of the guys in person.

He felt alone. Abandoned. He was watching his friends leave him, just like he had before, and it was no one’s fault but his own. He knew he deserved it, he deserved all the hatred and animosity. He did what he was best at, he fucked everything up. It was like history was repeating itself.

Now they all sat around the waiting room once again. Instructed by the nurses, in order to prepare for the worst case scenario, they thought it'd be best for the guys to stay out of the room. Anxiety was building up for seven of them, all while Minho felt nothing but dread.

All he received was a message telling him to show up to the hospital at 5pm from Seungmin. Presumably the only one willing to make any interaction with him.

Finally, a nurse comes out, and similarly to the doctor , she gets swarmed by a hoard of boys. Much like the last time, Minho stands in his corner while staring at the floor. He hoped the Earth would open up and swallow him alive.

The nurse instructed for the guys to go in one by one. "We already explained the situation to her. We told her she'd have some visitors that would come see her. Make sure you introduce yourselves first, and explain what relationship you had with her. Don't overwhelm her with information, as she is still in a delicate state. You shouldn't cause any more stress to her situation."

With that being said, Chan doesn't even bother to inquire with the rest of the guys before stepping up towards the nurse, "I'll go first." No one dared to argue.

One by one, the guys filed into the room until Minho sat alone in the waiting area.

He was fighting his own mind, doing his best to avoid the demons that kept trying to make their way inside of his head.

That’s the only way he can cope. He’d rather not feel anything at all, rather than to be face his emotions. People call him cold, but he doesn’t want to feel hurt in the way he has hurt before. The way he's hurting now, for instance. He let himself love too much and now that he screwed everything up, he has to deal with the pain of having his best friends hate him. All because of you.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't realize Jeongin had joined him in the waiting area.

"Chris asked me to come get you." The youngest seemed confused by this. Probably overwhelmed by the situation, he didn't bother questioning Bang Chan's strange request. Minho didn't bother questioning it either.

Going into the room, the vibe was off. Christopher had tears in his eyes. Changbin and Seungmin both looked angry, waiting for something or someone to fix everything, nothing was coming to help them though. Jeongin, Han, and Felix all looked out of it, as if trying to take in the situation. They all knew what to expect, but seeing their best friend lack recognition of them, was a feeling none of them could have been prepared for.

You were in bed, and for the first time, you looked at Minho with curiosity. The animosity was missing from your stare. It was odd to him. Chan sniffled a bit and collected himself, "Y/N, this is Minho. He's um... a friend."

The way Chan paused in the middle of his sentence caused Minho to wince. He knew he wasn't in their best graces, but to doubt their friendship was something he was not prepared for.

He feels as if he says anything, it will be taken in the wrong way, so Minho opts to stay silent. Although he's looking everywhere but you, he feels your gaze. Inquisitive. He's probably the first person you've seen since you woke up that didn't immediately start hugging you and screaming his concerns in your face.

"He's going to be taking care of you for now." Which causes both you and Minho to stare at the eldest. Was Bang Chan out of his mind? They would kill each other, (had you recognized him).

Minho can already picture it. The second you get your memories back, you are sure to murder him. At the same time, he's painfully aware that taking care of you is the only shot he has at redemption.

"I'm going to visit you periodically, check up on you to make sure Lee Minho is taking good care of you. Alright?" Minho doesn't miss the way that his friend is gripping your hand with a little too much force. Almost as if he's scared that you'll vanish into thin air. In a way he understands. Had it been one of the guys to get hurt, he'd be just as restless, if not more. Maybe he underestimated exactly how much you meant to Bang Chan. Hell, maybe he was right with the thought that Chris wanted to get into your pants. He won't admit that out loud though.

You nod slowly at his question, everyone can just assume how confused you must be.

"Are any of you my family?" You ask, unsurely. Still not fully grasping the situation.

Hyunjin clears his throat, awkwardly trying to cleanse the air from the stiffness that your question brought to the room. "You weren't exactly close to them, your family, I mean" He responds.

"But they'll come if we call right? I mean, I should have a family right?" Your voice is now filled with anxiety. Are you really supposed to trust the 8 random boys that presented themselves as your friends?

Chris, a bit less shaken now, presumably because he realized that if anyone could calm you down, it would be him. He knows you best after all.

"Hey sweetie-"

"Don't call me that." It hurts him. You may not remember your best friend, but the hurt in his face is almost impossible to miss. He is typically good at hiding his emotions and being everyone's rock, but he felt like he was taking hit after hit.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just really confused. I think I just need some time. You seem like a really nice guy, you all do, but please just give me a couple of days. I just want to go home.” Minho can feel the stares. He feels animosity from his friends, they don't trust him, and that much is obvious. But he tells himself that he can prove them wrong. All he has to do is make sure that you don't die while you recover from your wounds. He tells himself that it shouldn't be that hard.

Chan throws on the best fake smile that he can muster. "I understand sweet- Y/N. If you need space, we can at least give you that." You nod slowly at his words, shoulders relaxing. The expectations that they all had for you felt like too much. Seeing all of their faces, one by one, look so disappointed that you didn't recognize them felt overwhelming. It made you feel guilty. The only one that wasn't visually affected by your predicament was Minho.

It felt nice.

-

Walking into your house, or rather getting rolled in felt awful. The place, your home, felt strange and foreign. It hurt to think about it too much. You and Minho were silent the entire ride home. While he was struggling to get you in and out of his car, he remained stoic. He hadn't forgotten that not long ago, you had his car towed for shits and giggles, and he'd always been a little too good at holding grudges.

When he leaves your apartment once again to grab the remainder of his clothes out of his car, you take it as an opportunity to look around the place. The task doesn't come easy with your broken arm and leg, yet slowly but surely, you manage to reach the few spaces you could get to without any help.

All of the pictures surrounding the place had some of the guys in the frame. Mainly the guy that introduced himself as Bang Chan. No one else is pictured aside from the guys, which made you feel more at ease with your decision to trust them.

You couldn't help but notice the lack of Minho in the pictures. Didn't they say he was also your friend? You make a mental note to ask him about it later.

Minho walks in and throws his bags by the entrance, immediately making his way towards the kitchen. He had been in his head since the second he agreed to take care of you. It's not like it was much of a choice, but he'd been stressing over how exactly he would approach the situation. He wasn't doing this for you, he was doing it so his friends could forgive him. That's what he kept repeating to himself in order to actually come through with his assistance.

You roll into the kitchen as he was making dinner. He doesn't pay you much attention, the only thing that lets you know that he noticed you in his space, is the avoidance of your chair, running around and swiveling around you.

"Do I have a phone?" You ask him, but it throws him off a bit. There was no sarcasm in your tone, it was nothing but a question, but it comes off as a odd to him. Having known you for a little over a year, not once had either of you had a civil conversation with one another.

"It broke in the accident. Chan is buying one for you, I think." Still not bringing his gaze towards your direction. You silently nod in response.

"I must be pretty close to him, for him going out of his way to buy me a phone."

"Mhm." He is still very unsure on how to approach you. He briefly thinks about kicking your chair while passing by you, but quickly shakes the thought out of his head. Chris is still going to check in on you, and he knows that if Chris finds out that Minho was treating you less than perfect, he'd have another argument with him. Minho wanted to avoid anymore conflict. Through everything, he just wants his best friends to talk to him again.

"Were we close?"

That question actually throws Minho in for a loop. Should he lie? What is he supposed to say? We hate each other? I'm the reason you lost your memories? I'm the guy who practically pushed you into the accident? "Huh?" Is the only thing he manages to say in response.

"Well, there are no pictures of you here. All of the people at the hospital are in the pictures. You're the only one that didn't throw himself into my arms and damn near burst into tears. I'm assuming that we weren't that close." There was no ill intent with your question, just pure curiosity.

"Well-" You interrupt him before he can actually come up with an explanation. "You have been avoiding me like the plague since you picked me up, and all the guys visited me every single day since I woke up." Minho asks himself if you'd always been this talkative.

"We weren't as close as you are to the other guys."

"So why are you the one to take care of me?" For the first time in a while, he finally makes eye contact with you.

"Chris wanted us to get closer." Is the best lie he can come up with.

"Why?" God, why are you asking so many questions? Minho wondered.

"I don't know. He's your bestie, you'll know when you get your memories back." Now you're taken aback.

"Do you think I ever will?"

"I hope so." He does. This whole situation feels uncanny to Minho. He doesn't remember a conversation that you guys have had, that lasted this long and hadn't escalated to screaming and it felt odd.

With that answer, you drop the conversation. He obviously didn't want to talk, and you felt as if you had pried enough for the night

-

For the next couple of weeks, things go as smoothly as anyone could hope. You and Minho coexist which is more than he expected. He goes to his classes and comes back to your apartment everyday. Most nights he comes back to cook dinner, then he helps you bathe, and then heads to bed. It's a stark difference in comparison to when the other guys are visiting you.

You manage to get a couple of questions in every night, but he typically doesn't show much interest in shoving your past down your throat. You don't bother to pry, mainly because you get plenty of information when the guys come by, especially because of Felix. He seems like a pretty sweet guy, but it's very easy to get overwhelmed when he shoves his phone screen in your face whenever he comes to visit.

"Wait Y/N! Look at this! You asked if we could go to the beach and obviously I am always down to hang out with you. That day we left super early and spent the whole day lounging around in the sand. You almost managed to drown me with your lack of swimming skills. It was kind of funny actually." He means well, but it almost feels like he's trying to guilt you into remembering. The guilt that you feel when all you can do is smile and say, "Woah, sounds nice." Is incomprehensible. They try to hide their disappointment, and move on to the next memory that you can't recall. You know that they're trying to help, but it doesn't make you feel any better.

That's why Minho's silence is welcomed. It's like he doesn't expect anything from you, which feels like a breath of fresh air.

Minho is slowly falling into a routine with you. Initially everything felt strange to him. Your sudden friendliness, the need to be taken care of, the lack of bite with your words, all were foreign to him. Prior to the accident, you were very independent. Almost terrified to let someone take care of you.

Even the bathing part became causal to him. Initially, he felt very awkward, almost flustering to him. He hardly knew anything about you, and now he had to see you naked. He couldn't help the blush that took over his face when he first had to help you clean up. Now, he mainly disassociates and gets it done as fast as possible.

"Did you have a crush on me?” You ask all of the sudden, causing him to choke on his dinner. Eyes wide as saucers stare you down.

"I'm sorry???"

You shrug nonchalantly. "I'm just asking."

"What would make you think of that?" He asks, still just as flustered.

"I mean, why else would Chris ask you to get close to me? Why were you always acting so weird around me? The only explanation I can think of, is that you had a crush on me and you were too shy to approach me." You explain nonchalantly, shoving more food in your mouth.

"I did not have a crush on you." He says a bit too aggressively for you liking.

"Or maybe you hated me." Once again, speaking entirely way too casually.

"NO." He almost screams. Which confuses you even more.

"Damn. Make up your mind dude. Love or hate me, it would be nice to know." You chuckle a bit with your response.

He composes himself a bit before replying. "I mean, I mean, um, we just had a weird relationship."

"Relationship huh? So I'm hearing you were in love with me and I rejected you."

This was a new side of you Minho was not used to. He had never played around with you. You could hardly look at each other, and now you were implying that he had a crush on you. How is he supposed to reply without admitting that you guys loathed each others presence?

"I mean... It did hurt when you rejected me." He couldn’t just admit that he hated you, then you’d be apprehensive towards him. He knew, or he wanted to believe that you'd regain your memories one day. So he honestly wasn't sure as to why he kept on lying to you, whenever you got your old self back, you'd for sure murder him.

"I knew it!" You slammed your uninjured hand on the table, seemingly proud of your 'deduction skills', as wrong as they were.

-

By the time you were able to get your arm out of the cast, everything was a lot more casual between you and Minho. It seemed as if you had accepted his fake confession with grace. You dropped the subject and moved on. Minho had no idea how wrong he was.

He failed to notice how soft your voice had gotten with him, and missed the way your eyes would linger on him for a second too long after you made a joke to see how it’d affect him. He was oblivious on how you always seemingly flocked over to him when the guys were over out of instinct. He definitely didn't see that whenever Chris called you to see if he could come by, you'd deny his requests, opting to stay alone with your ex enemy.

The two of you fell into a new routine. You'd watch movies until the first one dropped, though it was typically you. He didn't think much of it. He would never ponder on the fact that he'd watch you sleep sometimes, and observed your light snores and weirdly found them comforting. He told himself that it was like watching a snake taking a nap. He never thought much about the nights that he'd allow himself to run his fingers through your hair without thinking.

The forced proximity grew your relationship so organically that before he knew it, he didn’t dread sharing a space with you. Yet, he refused to acknowledge the fact.

Eventually, there were no casts, no broken bones, and no reasons for him to stay with you. You still didn't remember anything, so that's why he reasoned that he should stay.

One day, he woke up in the middle of the night. You and Bang Chan had a sleepover, you had gotten comfortable with your best friend again, after many months of him trying to make himself back into your life, you had begun to let him. The memories he always tried to remind you of, softened your heart. He spoke in a way that seemed safe, causing you to build a strange sense of trust with the man.

"Hey, I was thinking that you should be good to stay on your own once again. I don't think that Lee Minho is doing much but getting in your way." Neither of you were aware that he was standing in the hall. Hoping to get a glass of water, but instead being met by your conversation.

"I want him to stay." Minho grips his empty cup a bit harder. Not expecting to hear those words from you.

Chris was very clearly taken aback. He had heard good things about Minho. He knew that he was acting out of guilt, but he didn't mind much. You needed someone to be there for you, and Bang Chan hoped that even if it was superficial, you could at least have all the help you needed.

"What? Why" He questions.

"Well, didn't you want us to get closer?"

"I mean, I guess but..."

"Then you got what you wanted." You say with a sly smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know what my deal was before, but I think I'm ready to accept him." Your words make Minho look around the hallway in a panic. What the hell were you talking about?

"Accept him?"

"Yeah, I mean he's handsome, he's very mysterious, but in a good way. He feels safe, like he is just staying by my side because he wants to, not because he expects something out of me." Minho leans against the wall with worry and exhaustion. You misread everything. He didn't expect anything out of you because he expected forgiveness from his friends. How did he let it get to this point?

"Hey sweetie, I don't know if it's my place to tell you this-" With Chan's words, Minho immediately makes his way to his bedroom and loudly slams the door, making it appear as if he was barely coming out. He makes sure to make his steps as loud as possible, as he fakes the best groggy voice he can manage.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" You and Chan both freeze in place.

"Oh, me and Chris were just catching up." He nods at your response and makes his way back to the room that has became his.

Chan quickly changes the subject. How is someone supposed to tell you that the man that they all forced into your life used to be your mortal enemy? So he merely avoids it.

It is not as simple for Minho though, he can't avoid you, so he simply shuts you out in his own way. He answers your questions even less, he stops making you dinner, opts to go to his room during movie night, and overall, tries to spend less time at your place. This does not go unnoticed by you though. His new attitude makes you wonder if your lack of memory is finally getting to him. Has he gotten tired of you? Tired of waiting for the person he had been infatuated with? Those questions make their way into your head with the lack of his attention.

"Hey Minho." You begin the second he walks in through the door, stopping him from making a beeline to his room.

He stops without looking at you, dreading what your next words may be.

"How have you been?" That being the last thing he expected you to say.

"What?"

"I feel like we haven't talked too much lately. It's strange." That's strange? Minho wants to laugh. After experiencing the oddest of the past few months with you, the fact that he's distant is strange? God, if only you knew.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think we could go do something? Maybe go skating or maybe shopping?"

"What?" If he agrees, that would be the first time the two of you went out alone. He didn't expect this situation to arise. He wanted to say no, you were the person he hated most afterall. Yet, the you now wasn't the old you. The you now, looked at him in a different way. You trusted him. Which he genuinely enjoyed, mainly because no one really trusted him as of lately. It is odd that you of all people, are making him feel better.

On the way to the park, he can't help but wonder. What if you got your memories back right then and there? Would you immediately recoil from his side? Acting as if he had burned you? You'd know that you had been lied to. You wouldn't only be mad at him, but at everyone else as well.

He briefly wonders if everything that they're doing is right. He had never asked himself that, always looking at his ultimate goal. Seungmin and Hyunjin had talked to him first, mainly to ask how you were doing. Then Felix and Jeongin had been the next to reach out, asking if you could all hang out together. Changbin, Jisung, and Chris were harder to crack though. However, they had all gotten significantly kinder toward Minho. He takes all of it as wins, but can't help but think about the way you'd react toward the past couple of months full of lies that they all fed you. Minho of all people? He remembers your murderous behavior, and can already see you breaking down, and breaking them, whenever you remembered everything.

"Do you have any dreams?" Your words break him out of his thoughts.

"What?" You know he's standoffish, so you already had a response for his questioning ready.

"I always wanted to be a singer." You say to persuade him to confide in you.

"Wait, wait. What?" He stops your walk at the unexpected statement.

"Yeah... I think I'm remembering somethings," The thought causes Minho to shudder. "I don't recall much, but I think I'm beginning to remember my parents."

"Wait what?!"

"Don't tell anyone though." You shake your hands as if to say 'no' to make it a point that he is the only person you're telling about this.

"But... do you remember anything else?"

"Huh, not really. I think my memory is working itself backwards. Sometimes I have dreams of what used to be. Sometimes I wake up remembering what I did before, but it is mainly things from way back. I'm beginning to remember why I cut everyone in my family off, and why I stopped chasing my dreams." The way you said it so calmly, lead Minho to infer that you've been remembering things for a while. It makes him feel weird to think that you're confiding in him of all people.

"Well, why did you stop chasing your dreams?" Had anyone told Minho that you two would be walking through the park together, talking so casually, he would've thought they were psychos.

"I haven't got to that part yet. What about you? Why did you stop chasing your dreams?" The question takes him aback. He can't remember telling you that part of his life.

You take his confusion into account, and continue talking, "I noticed the way you're an amazing singer. You're not really quiet when you shower." You laugh at your own statement. "I hate to be intrusive, but Chan also told me that you had unfinished business with that," Before Minho could get mad at your curiosity, you kept speaking. "I didn't let him tell me much more. I assumed that I was right, but you're free to tell me that I'm wrong right now." With that, he's at a loss for words. It was a longshot, but you were meeting the mark.

"I wasn't really made for it."

"I think that you are."

He doesn't reply to that. He takes a bit to take in your words. For a second, he forgets how you used to be. Had you always been so observant? So caring? The person that had made him feel like shit for so long felt like a stranger in comparison to how you were right now.

"You're nice." He says before he could stop himself.

"That must be why you were so in love with me." So confident. That was also new for you.

"I wouldn't go that far." He chuckled to himself. He finds it odd that you were so funny. He's seen bits and pieces of you for a while, but never directed towards him in that way. He feels a confidence coming from you that he had always failed to see before.

Although you don't reply to him, he feels as if he couldn't leave his statement unended. "You're maybe kinda sorta cute. I guess." Which brings a laugh out of you.

"Ha, good way of hiding your never ending love for me." If only you knew.

He is not sure why, but your statement makes him smile.

"Hey Minho,” your next words would make his mood flip in an instant, “you make me feel safe." Your words bring bile to his mouth. He feels like a faker. He feels like he’s betraying you, not the old you, but this new version that he strangely liked. It’s all so confusing to him. He's supposed to hate you.

"You make me feel okay." That's the best thing he can muster before wrapping his arm around you. It felt like the right thing to do but the wrong universe to do it at.

He hoped that your memory would never come back.

-

A/N: i'll try to wrap this up by this weekend. thank you so much to those who have given me encouraging words :)

TAGLIST: @stanstraykidsskz @weareapackofstrays @linos-kitten @cassidymb121

[the-depths-au]

FAQ

*this post continues heavy totk spoilers

How did it start?

A lot of people started posting some really cool art of a TotK ending where Zelda returns as a hybrid dragon creature thing. I saw a few that called it a “bad” ending and I noticed she was often portrayed with dominantly human-features just like, with horns or a tail, or the purple eyes, etc. I love to play video games(clearly) and I enjoy the challenge of seeing various endings, not just “secret endings” (think Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, The Witcher 3, Drakengard- anyone else play this?) I got to thinking about how her coming back didn’t really like a true “bad ending”. To me, a bad ending, really, would be one in which she didn’t get to magically, miraculously come back in any form. A bad ending to me would be Mineru’s warning held true. And in doing so, it would become The Legend of Zelda because she becomes the stuff of myths. Of true Legend. Fulfilling destiny (botw-era and the series as a whole). My brain sort of took off from there regarding the implications this would have on Hyrule and specially, our boy Link.

How could you! A Bad ending? Is this story at least hurt and eventual comfort??? Does it have a happy ending??

I could tag this hurt and comfort, but usually people who read these types of stories have certain expectations of what “comfort” is (and that’s okay!). Same with a “happy” ending. I don’t need stories to be wrap up in a bow with warmth to enjoy them. Honestly, some of the stories that have touched me the most over the years have had “sad” endings/negative character arcs/tragedy. That being said, I don’t particularly enjoy pure whump, either. What I feel is most important and what I am to do with this story, is to make any suffering meaningful. With purpose. And hopefully- maybe- you’ll see the “comfort” that is possible even in these types of stories.

Wait! So Zelda remains a dragon?

Yes. They defeat the demon dragon. Rauru and Sonia appear in a silent thanks, then they disappear and Link falls from the sky alone into the water. The Light Dragon continues along in her flight above him.

Link is also the only one who can see/has ever seen the Light Dragon.

Are there any other major changes from TotK?

It follows the game pretty closely. It’s just hard to say exactly what is in this story from TotK because there is just so much. In BotW, I headcanon Link took his time. He doesn’t remember anything. He is alone, lost, and the world is a vast, broken place. Therefore, it is plausible/ realistic in my head for all the side questions to be done prior to the ending being reached. In TotK, especially with the headcanon he and Zelda were together in the time between BotW and TotK, I had a hard time imagining Link would waste much time on anything unnecessary to save Zelda. So, with this in mind, I’ve had to justify the side questions to include in the story. Link’s journey is a bit different than my own. Whereas I actually spent 80% of my playthrough exploring the depths, this Link only went down when necessary. Meaning many of the lightroots have not been unlocked and he only has part of the armor of the depths. In the Linktober and the early concept, he has the entire set but this has been changed for the main comic.

How far after the events of TotK does this take place?

Five years.

Is it completely planned out?

Yes. I have a complete rough story outline done. It’s 17 chapters. I am anticipating some editing as I go, but regardless, it’s a big project. A huge shout out to @zeldaelmo and @fioreofthemarch for helping me get the story set. They are both phenomenal writers for the LoZ fandom so be sure to check them out!

What happened to the comic?

I made the decision to tell this story (initially) in writing. I have a very specific style in mind for this story as a full comic and honestly, I just don't feel like my artistic ability and overall proficiency is where I want it to be at this time. I'm still learning! I will be continuing to post art, concept art, and some comic panels here as I go and eventually, I would love to adapt the story into a full comic, but for now, I'll be telling the main story in writing.

How long have you been drawing?

I’ve been drawing all my life. Just for fun, although I took a few classes in school. Digitally, self-taught, since fall 2022. Still very new to this with lots to learn! I have a minor in creative writing and feel much more confident and comfortable with that.

Feel free to send me a DM with questions anytime! I plan to update this periodically.

Last updated 2/26/24

[hisui-dreamer]

through the endless daydream (part 3)

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: There is a rumour that there is a hidden advisor of the Draconia family, who has guided the ruler of all fae for years. They say he is the one responsible for the peace established between humans and fae. What they don’t know, is that he has been doing so for millennia, cursed by the gods to be immortal as punishment for his crime of killing a human who was beloved by the gods—his very own lover, for whom he must forever repent until he can be killed by his true love.

Tags: fluff with angst, reincarnation, confession, the Diasomnia bois are in this chapter, bot proofread

Word count: 4.1k+

Notes: Okay, guess what... there's still one more chapter lol. I promise this time it's the last prolongation, I swear. Also I wrote this on Lilia goblin brainrot when I really should have been doing my homework, soooo, I hope y'all enjoy it hahaha

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

"Father, what's wrong? It's unlike you to look so down," Silver asked, placing a comforting hand on Lilia's shoulder.

It felt like just yesterday when he had first met Silver as a child, and now he had grown into a young man who had a promising future as a knight. Within his long immortality, Lilia had found purpose in helping others, as he was unable to help himself. When he noticed the small human child left on his doorstep, he decided to adopt him, wanting to provide him with a loving home just like his Beastie had done for the children in the orphanage, driven by his desire to make a positive impact on someone's life and to create a family bond that would bring him joy and fulfilment. Silver became like a son to him, and their relationship brought Lilia a sense of purpose and happiness in his life.

Lilia attempted to brush off Silver’s concern with a chuckle, "Oh, I'm fine, Silver. Just my old age getting to me," he replied, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.

Malleus, the current fae prince, had been observing the exchange and approached the pair with concern. Lilia had been a mentor and father figure to him. He was one of the few people he held dear to his heart as he always listened to Malleus' problems, counselled him, and comforted him during difficult times.

"Lilia, you seem troubled," Malleus said, his voice carrying a touch of formality. "What happened?"

Lilia sighed, his playful façade dropping momentarily. "I saw them today," he replied softly. "I met the love of my life again."

The air in the room visibly tenses as Silver and Malleus exchanged solemn glances, sensing the weight of Lilia's words. They were well aware of Lilia's curse, the immortality that he had carried for thousands of years, and the possibility that meeting you could hold the key to breaking it. He had never made an effort to hide what happened all those years ago from them, deeply believing that it was all part of his punishment.

The two couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought that Lilia might eventually leave them when his curse is broken, having grown close to him over the years and having come to see him as a father figure and mentor. However, they also knew better than anyone the immense burden that Lilia had carried for thousands of years, and they couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering any longer as he watched everything he held dear inevitably fade with time.

Silver glanced at Malleus with a pensive expression, and Malleus nodded in understanding, both silently agreeing that Lilia's happiness and freedom were of the utmost importance, even if it meant parting ways with him in the end. They had seen the weight of his immortality and the toll it had taken on him, and they wanted nothing more than for him to find peace.

Silver spoke up with a hopeful yet cautious tone. "Father, could it be possible? Are they the one who can finally break your curse?"

Lilia sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Silver. It's complicated… Meeting them brought back memories and feelings that I've long left behind, but I don't know if it means they're the one who can free me from my immortality."

Malleus spoke up, a serious look in his emerald eyes. "Lilia, we need to tread carefully. We don't know the full extent of the situation, and if their reincarnation holds the key to breaking your curse, it's vital that we handle it with caution and wisdom."

Lilia nodded, appreciating Malleus' advice. "You're right, Malleus. I won't rush into anything. I need to understand the situation fully and consider all the implications."

Silver chimed in, his violet eyes shining with determination. "We'll be here to support you, Father. We'll stand by you, just like you've always stood by us."

Lilia, touched by their unwavering support, felt a renewed sense of determination to face the situation with wisdom and care. "Oh, you two are so grown up now. Thank you, both of you. I'm grateful to have you by my side."

"Father," Silver began, "I know you've told us about them before, but can you tell me more?" he asked.

Lilia turned to him, a misty haze in his eyes as they softened with fond memories. He sighed, a smile gracing his lips as he spoke. "They were a remarkable human, Silver..."

Lilia felt a flutter of anticipation as he made his way to the park where he had first encountered you, having agreed to meet each other the next day at the same time and spot. He couldn't deny the curiosity and eagerness that surged through him as he walked with a slight bounce in his step.

As he approached the park, he scanned the area for you, until his gaze rested on your figure, sitting on a bench beneath a flowering cherry blossom tree. You looked up, your eyes meeting vermillion ones as a smile spread across your face, sensing someone's stare.

In that moment, he knew without a doubt that you were his true love, just as his Beastie had been all those years ago. It was as if fate had brought you together once again, and he felt a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer impossibility of it all.

Lilia walked towards you, his steps quickening with each moment as he noticed the striking resemblance between you and his Beastie—the same radiant smile, the same playful glint in your eyes, and the same warmth in your presence that had enchanted him all those years ago.

"Hello," Lilia greeted meekly as he reached the bench, unable to contain his emotions.

"Hello," you returned, your voice sending shivers down Lilia's spine. "I've been expecting you."

Lilia nodded, finding himself at a loss for words for a moment as he took in your presence. "It's... it's good to see you again," he finally managed to say, his tone filled with emotion.

You smiled warmly and gestured to the bench beside you, prompting Lilia to sit down. The cherry blossoms provided a picturesque backdrop to the meeting, the air was filled with the scent of spring, reminding Lilia of the springs he had spent with his Beastie and the children.

You were his true love.

The one who would end him.

Lilia cleared his throat, focusing himself on the present. "So, " he started. "You mentioned having met me in your dreams before?" He asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and wonder.

You nodded, shyly looking down at your lap as you twiddled your fingers. "I've dreamt of a man for as long as I can remember. He looks a lot like you, only more mature, and he had long black hair," you said softly, searching Lilia's face for any sign of recognition. "He seems so distant and powerful, yet the gleam in his eyes… there's a gentleness in his gaze when he looks at me. It's like he's protecting me, even though I don't know who he is."

Lilia listened attentively, his heart skipping a beat with each word you spoke, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He was moved by the fact that you had been dreaming of him even when you had reincarnated, and that you saw through his facade of coldness to the softness he reserved only for you. At the same time, he was hesitant to reveal his true identity, fearing that he might hurt you once more.

"I... I'm glad that he brings you comfort," Lilia finally replied gently. "Dreams are seldom all they seem, and sometimes they reveal things that we may not fully understand."

You nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response, but Lilia could see a flicker of curiosity in your expression. He knew that you were still trying to piece together the puzzle that had several pieces missing, but he couldn't blame you for trying to comprehend the situation.

Over the course of the conversation, the topics shifted to the stories of your life, and Lilia noted everything about you with his entire being, seeking to know you better. It was as if you were talking to an old friend as you opened up to him about your life, your struggles, and your dreams for the future. You shared how you had faced challenges and hardships, how you had worked tirelessly to overcome obstacles, and how you had dreamt of a better life.

Lilia listened intently, his heart swelling with admiration for your resilience and determination. He could see the fire in your eyes as you spoke about your plans and aspirations, and he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of empathy and compassion towards you.

"I've always wanted to get a decent job, find love, or travel and see the world," you rambled on with a wistful smile. "But I've never had the means to travel, even when I’m working multiple jobs just to make ends meet. It's been tough..."

Lilia nodded, understanding the weight of your struggles after having lived for thousands of years. With each word you spoke, he felt a growing sense of responsibility towards you, wanting to do whatever he could to help you, to grant your wishes and see you achieve the dreams you held dear. He knew that he had the power and means to make a difference in your life, and he silently vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to support you if only to make up for his mistakes in the past.

"I'm sorry that you've had to face such challenges," his voice was filled with sincerity. "But I want you to know that you're not alone. I'm here for you, and I'll do whatever I can to support you in achieving your dreams."

You were taken aback by his generosity and kindness. "You don't have to do all that," you said, touched by his offer. "I appreciate your offer, but I don't want to impose." But Lilia only smiled, his eyes warm and genuine. "It's not an imposition at all. I want to do this for you because you deserve it, and because it brings me joy to see you happy."

From that day on, Lilia kept his promise, making use of his connections and resources to find you a well-paying job at the palace with a kind boss who would understand your situation and be supportive, as well as a rather loud half-fae co-worker who seemed to dislike humans, but was still kind to you at times. Lilia also made a habit of surprising you with gifts for no particular reason, just to bring a smile to your face and make you feel appreciated. Sometimes it would be items you’ve mentioned liking or elegant flower crowns that Lilia weaves himself, seeming to consistently know your likes and dislikes.

You spent more and more time with the energetic fae, with him taking you to fun places on a whim, showing you the wonders of the world and letting you experience the joy of new adventures. The two of you travelled through beautiful landscapes, and he watched with joy as you laughed, explored, and embraced life with newfound zeal. And with each passing day, he found himself falling deeper in love with you—you were one and the same as his Beastie, the one who had captured his heart and lit up his world all those millennia ago.

Lilia was determined to make the most of the time he had with you. He wanted to give you the gift of joy and adventure, knowing that it was something he could offer before he would have to say goodbye. He tried to push his own feelings aside, focusing on bringing happiness to your life and creating memories that would last forever, savouring each moment, cherishing the smiles on your face, the laughter in your voice, and the memories you were creating together. He found solace in your presence, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness that he had longed for in his immortal existence.

However, the reality that his time with you was finite made his chest heavy. He struggled with the conflict between his love for you and his impending departure, feeling torn between the desire to stay by your side and the knowledge that he had to let go. He tried to hide his true feelings, not wanting to burden you with his own struggles, and instead focused on making your time together as special as possible.

But what he couldn’t control, were your feelings for him.

As you thought about your upcoming trip with him, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. It dawned on you that it wasn't just the excitement of the adventures or the thrill of the unknown that drew you to him. It was something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat every time you were near him.

His magical abilities and mysterious aura fascinated you, but even more so was the way he brought joy into your life. He had been a source of wonder, adventure, and happiness since the first time you met him. His playful and kind attitude, his unwavering support, and the way he always made you feel special left an indelible mark on you. Your life had begun to improve as a result of his encouragement and care, having found a career that gave you stability while also allowing you to pursue your dreams. You laughed more, smiled more, and felt more hopeful about the future.

It was inevitable that you would fall in love with him.

Warmth rose to your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and your heart was pounding in your chest, making it difficult to focus on anything else, including work. You tried to regain your composure and focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Lilia.

"LORD LILIA! HOW WONDERFUL OF YOU TO GRACE US WITH YOUR PRESENCE!" Sebek, your co-worker, excitedly announced. As if your thoughts had manifested into reality, Lilia stood at the entrance, looking as handsome and enigmatic as ever. "Sebek, your inside voice, please," Lilia gently admonished, exasperated at the knight’s energy.

This weekend was another anticipated adventure with Lilia, this time to the Queendom of Roses. After a quick goodbye to your co-workers, you walked towards Lilia, who opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home, like being wrapped in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

"Khee hee, ready for our next adventure?" Lilia chuckled, the sound igniting butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. With Lilia by your side, every adventure was filled with magic and wonder. You nodded fervently, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

"Absolutely!" you beamed. "I can't wait to see what surprises the Queendom of Roses has in store for us." Lilia smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He extended his hand towards you, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, feeling a jolt of electricity at the contact.

With renewed excitement and anticipation, you set off with Lilia towards the Queendom of Roses, eager to embark on another adventure with your favourite person in the world.

The moment you arrived, you were greeted by a sea of vibrant colours and the intoxicating scent of flowers that filled the air. The entire landscape seemed like it had been plucked from a fairy tale, with rose-covered arches, winding paths, and blooming gardens that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Lilia led you through the bustling streets of the Queendom, his charming and confident demeanour making him a favourite among the locals. You couldn't help but be captivated by his presence, his knowledge of the history and lore of the Queendom, and his adventurous spirit that made every moment with him exciting.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky transformed into a canvas of rich colours. The last rays of sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over the Queendom of Roses, illuminating the rose-covered buildings and creating a magical ambience.

Lilia led you to a secluded spot in the centre of the forest, where the trees towered above, forming a natural canopy that filtered the moonlight, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was cooler now, but Lilia's presence by your side kept you warm.

You sat on a moss-covered log, gazing up at the night sky as stars began to twinkle into view, one by one, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves and the distant sound of crickets chirping. Lilia's hand found its way to yours, and the touch sent tingles down your spine. You looked at him, and in the soft moonlight, his features were bathed in an ethereal glow, making him look even more captivating. The beauty of the sight seemed to mirror the feelings that had been growing within you, and you couldn't contain them any longer.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Lilia, feeling your heart race in anticipation. His eyes seemed darker, so alike the colour of wine, more mesmerising at the low light, and his presence filled you with a sense of comfort and safety.

"Lilia," you murmured. "I need to tell you something." You took a step closer to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you.

Lilia looked at you attentively, his expression unreadable, but his stare holding a glimmer of curiosity. "Hmm? Go on," he encouraged softly, like a soothing melody.

Feeling a rush of courage, you spoke from the bottom of your heart. " I... I have fallen in love with you," you confessed, gaining strength with each word. "You've brought so much joy and adventure into my life, and I can't imagine my future without you in it."

As the words left your lips, you held your breath, waiting for Lilia's response. The crackling of the bonfire seemed to intensify, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter as if the universe itself was holding its breath along with you.

Lilia looked taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He struggled to find the right words, and you could see the conflict playing out on his face.

"I... I didn't expect this," he finally said, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest as your heart sank with disappointment, but you could sense his sincerity.

Lilia reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth of his touch. "Beastie, " he started with the nickname that you’ve grown so fond of. "You're an amazing person, and I care deeply about you," he said, filled with sincerity as it always did. "But I can’t be with you, I apologise."

"But why?" you asked, unable to conceal the hurt in your voice. "I thought... I thought we had something special."

Lilia looked pained, and he averted his gaze, unable to meet yours. "I... I apologise, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As his words sank in, a mix of emotions swirled inside you. Disappointment, sadness, and a tinge of heartbreak washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore. You had laid bare your feelings, hoping for a different outcome, but now you had to come to terms with the fact that Lilia couldn't be with you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and a knot formed in your throat. It was painful to hear the person you cared for say that they couldn't be with you, especially when you had poured your heart out to them. It felt like a door slamming shut, shutting down the possibility of a future together.

In your mind, questions and doubts arose. Was it something about you? Was it his identity that he kept so well-hidden? Or was it simply his own personal reasons? You couldn't help but wonder if there was anything you could have done differently, if you had misread his feelings, or if you had been too forward in confessing your love.

You turned back to face him, searching his eyes for answers. "Is it because of your true identity?" you asked hesitantly. "Are you holding back because of who you really are?"

Lilia looked at you with a mix of surprise and sadness, as if he hadn't expected you to figure it out. He remained silent for a moment and then sighed softly.

"Yes," he finally admitted, heavy with emotion. "The truth is complicated, and it brings with it a burden that I cannot share with anyone else. It's because I care for you deeply that I have to let you go."

"Lilia, please," you begged desperately, as your heart ached with longing. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him without knowing the real reason behind his decision to distance himself from you. "I'm willing to do anything for you. I can't bear the thought of losing you without knowing the whole truth. Please, tell me why you can't be with me."

Lilia had always tried to keep a distance, to protect you from the truth of his identity and the inevitability that came with it, but it tore him apart to have to push you away. He knew the consequences of his actions and the weight of his responsibilities, and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you like he had done once upon a time. But seeing you now, vulnerable and pleading, made it even harder for him to stay resolute.

Part of him longed to take you in his arms, to tell you everything, and to be with you despite the risks. He cherished the moments he had spent with you, the joy and happiness you had brought into his life. Your love had touched him deeply, and he couldn't deny the feelings he had for you. His expression torn with conflicting emotions, he took a step towards you as his gaze locked with yours. "Then," he said, his voice laced with hesitation. "I’d like to ask one favour from you."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, curiosity mingling with the pain in your heart. "What is it?" you asked softly, willing to grant him anything within your power.

Lilia took a step towards you, his expression serious yet pleading. "Promise me, that on the day of the first snowfall, you will pierce me with this sword," he said, his voice steady but filled with a sense of longing as he summoned the sword imbued with the curse.

You stared at Lilia, shocked and bewildered by his sudden request. The sword he held was ancient and ornate, and you could sense the powerful magic emanating from it. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could see the conflict in his eyes.

"What?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend what he was asking of you. "I can’t do that! I can’t hurt you!"

Lilia reached out and gently took your hand, his touch familiar and comforting, melting away all the anxiety that had overtaken your mind. "Don’t worry," he assured softly. "It won’t hurt me, you’ll be freeing me from my curse."

He wondered if it was fair of him to lie about the true nature of his curse, that upon doing so, his existence would end. Although you would be saddened by his departure momentarily, the world would quickly erase his existence before long, wiping everyone’s memories of Lilia Vanrouge.

You furrowed your brow, surprised by his revelation. "Curse? What do you mean?"

Lilia took a deep breath, and you could see the anguish so clearly written on his face as he explained to you. "I made a terrible mistake in my past, and as a result, I've been cursed with immortality. I can't age, I can't die, and I've been bound to wander the world alone for all eternity to repent."

You were at a loss for words, torn between the love you still felt for him and the shock of his request. But when you stared at him, the pain etched on his face as he revealed the burden he had been carrying, and you reached out to gently touch his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Lilia," you said, reaching out to gently touch his hand in comfort. "It must have been incredibly difficult to bear." You looked up into Lilia's eyes with determination. "I’ll do it, I’ll break your curse for you," you said firmly, steeling yourself for what was to come.

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Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

[trippygalaxy]

Hello!

I Just read two of your sleepwalkers post and wanted to request a third on warrior, wind, ravio and hyrule with a sleepwalker reader? If you have the time.

Hi lovely anon! I recently updated my rules and I will only go up to three characters for each headcanon. I'm doing this so I don't get overwhelmed by doing too many characters! So, for this I will stick with our Linkie boys but if you really wanna, you can request Ravio separately when my requests open up again!

Paring: Warriors, Wind, Hyrule x gn!reader (separately) Warnings: (Wind) mention of broken nose/blood Part 1 Part 2

Warriors

Warriors, being a captain of an army, has some experience when it came to those who suffered from sleepwalking.

When he realized that you too had this condition, he could empathize with your frustrations. He has seen his soldiers and remembers their annoyance with their sore bodies and tired minds.

Your first defender if one of the other boys try and pull some stupid prank while your in the middle of a sleep.

he knows from first hand experience that bothering/waking someone while they're in the middle of sleepwalking is not the best idea. both for the waker and the sleeper.

During his night shifts, he'll sit right next to your sleeping more. He'll run his hands through your hair or rub circles on your arm. If you ask why, he'll make some joke about how he just wants to be close to you.

And while that is true, he is also trying to lull you into a deeper sleep, hoping it will stop you from waking up. He knows the toll it takes not only on your mind but also your body.

Hyrule

A true sweetheart! Doesn't really understand how or why this is happening to you but is there when you need to voice your frustrations.

He is well aware of what the lack of sleep can do to someone's mind and hates to see that happen to you. The way your eyes sulked and shoulders slumped. He missed the bright sparkles that shined in your eyes

Hyrule was determined to make sure you held your spark. Letting you take naps while the party made a mid day breaks, making sure you ate enough to keep your energy high.

You're emotions are valid and he is gonna make sure you KNOW that. Its okay to be mad and frustrated, but that's not your fault. Lets talk out some ideas that could help you, okay?

If one of the other boys try to make a snarky comment, Hyrule is the first to shut it down, not being a afraid to put the boy back in place.

If you want, he'll try some naturals medicines. Essential oils, crushed herbs, random potions he concocted (which don't look...the most appealing but its a sweet gesture.)

Wind

TROUBLE MAKER!!! IN BIG BOLD LETTERS!!

This boy has some how conditioned your subconscious mind to help me with pranks?? You honestly don't know if you should be impressed or concerned.

You are surprisingly sneaky in your unconscious state, which is a grand help when Wind is in need of s partner in crime to help steal a few items!

Wind had done one, ONE, prank on you in your sleep and that ended very poorly. I mean, by the end of it Wind had a bloody nose and you were absolutely terrified to your bones.

You two made up eventually, having not talked for a about a week after the events. After that, he never played a prank on you again, whilst you were asleep or awake.

Wind did think it was kinda cool though, how even in your sleep you were still a badass!

He has tried to sleep on top of you to keep you in place and...stop sleepwalking but uhh...You very easily pushed him off.

Apologizes for any typos or weird ass grammar!

[volterran-wine]

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ @itskelaufeyson: “Hey, hc and one shots are open again.and I hope you’ve relaxed on your break.  I promised that I would request something happy with time so here is it;Felix had an eye for a beautiful girl back when he was human. He was turned and over time forgot about her. Than on a mission he runs into her again, and feels the pull. They obvious understand each other with being from the same century and having been waiting on a mate all there life.You can make it as cute as you want, this time I don’t want you to suffer ☺️ as always love you work and this little corner you created on this website.”

Greetings friend, I feel I owe it to you to to finally reply to this request; after all it has been some time. Fun fact; in Felix’s official backstory... there is a young woman he very much loved... more on that in an upcoming fanfic.

!𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! Some angst, because it is me. 

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

Felix never enjoyed letting his thoughts linger on the past, for nothing could be found there except bloodshed, shame and a broken heart he would carry into eternity itself. He had put down his gladiatorial sword, and in turn put on a cloak deep as night in order to repay a debt tenfold.

However, there would always be shrouded memories, a sense of longing that would tug at heartstrings he had no use for. His fellow guards would notice, though Felix was gentle and kind towards them; the joy never quite reached his eyes. That was the life he chose, and those around him could do nothing more but shoulder his burdens if they were fortunate enough to get close. They would always break under the pressure.

Two hundred years would pass before he would understand the sorrowful sentation in his heart. Time had not been kind on him, nor her. It was but a whisp of a memory, a face he had once held dear - that much he knew. Corin had been with him that day, shouting that they had to move faster across the fields of wheat in order to find shelter during the day. On the horizon stood another of their kind however, and for the first time in a century Felix felt fear. 

The second his eyes met hers an unbearbale pain took root in his chest, the gentle tugs at his heartstrings now felt like an unbearable pull. As if the woman on the horizon would stop at nothing until his heart was in her hands, crystallised and coated in sweet venom.

As the world fell away around him Felix marched forward, Corin’s shouts of exasperation did not reach his ears: for his focus had shifted entirely. The woman began her approach, although it was slower and more weary once she saw the cloaks they bore proudly across their shoulders.

The memories did not all return, but now seeing her up close brought to mind the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard, pomegranates cracked open and shared, the merry tunes played on the lute as he watched her dance until the break of day. Memories of a promise he never thought he could fulfil also came to mind, and Felix smiled.

It all brought him back to the brief conversation they had shared before he was thrown to the pits, as venom pooled into his eyes he could not contain the chortled laugh that escaped him. With trembling hands he reached out to grasp one of hers for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He would miss her warmth, but he soon found it again in eyes that burned bright as the fires of home. 

“Felix...” “I found it.” “What did you find?” “Elysium.”