#I have to imagine it was intentional because the show has never sugar-coated the feelings between mariana and ferrán in the past

[niuxita21]

Are you sure about your feelings for Ferrán? Ferrán is a great guy. My feelings for him are super clear. I hope you’re trying to convince me and not yourself.

[sleepyowlwrites]

8, 10, 12, 14, and most importantly, feel better, oh sleepy one 🖤

Hi Klaus. I've added a bunch of songs to your playlist recently. Been thinking vague thoughts about you. Like, "Klaus is a nice friend" and "I should make Jet content so Klaus will show up and be happy about it" and then I fall asleep.

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

I dunno how long the story is, but I've written flash fiction/short stories comprised of only dialogue. I know I can do it. But I think that eventually gets tiring for the reader. Not everyone is up to quite that level of imagining, especially just from whatever context clues happen to be dropped in the conversation. I am really good at writing dialogue, but I'd probably go for just action without it for a longer project. That can get dry as well, so I'd have to get creative with it. But I could do it if I tried.

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Anxiety Story haunted me for a bit. I wrote it as a fanfic with the intention of helping people with anxiety to relate to it, and people without to understand it. And I succeeded in that. People commented that it felt very cathartic and comforting to see anxiety that wasn't sugar-coated, or solved by friendship. I went really raw with it, and it was appreciated. My favorite comment was from someone who said that their sister struggled with anxiety and through my fic, they finally understood what it was like for her and how to try and help her when she was having bad days. And that really stuck with me because it showed me that there truly is a need and a desire for fiction that is willing to be frank about anxiety, depression, etc. That comment haunts me a little, and while I've temporarily given up on anxiety story, I've never given up on including mental illness in my stories, especially the anxiety and depression, which I also have. I can't quite bring myself to write about eating disorders, but I'd like to, someday.

Uh, and for a more normal answer, the Thorn Birds. I highly recommend it. I'll probably never read it again. But it's a reading experience you can't forget.

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Executive dysfunction doesn't occur during the writing process

...actually that would solve pretty much everything else. I have inspiration, I have stories, I have motivation. I guess maybe a little bit more of a plotter's brain?

A better remembering ability outside of having to repeat information to myself several times and also maybe write it on my hand

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I used to. Not anymore. Well. I "lend" books to my sister, who now reads more than I do, but really it's just gifting them to her. A couple I've lost but then they came out in prettier covers so I bought those. But I don't lend my books to anyone else. My coworker and friend wanted to read Howl's Moving Castle so I bought it for her. I should buy her a copy of a rival most vial, too. She'd probably love it.

Thanks for asking, my dear.

[indigooey]

I've been hearing a lot that my initial announcement was "immature", "childish", and "poorly written" from multiple sources in varying degrees. How it "could have been handled differently". And I would like to remind you all that everyone responding to this is not in the position I was in and also has the privilege of hindsight on the matter.

I had no way of knowing that my message to my small pocket of the internet was going to go further than my walls. I had no idea that people would be sending hate messages to Shina. And I truly had no idea people would read what I wrote and jump to the conclusion of "groomer" and "pedo". These are things that I'm being criticized of for the words I wrote warning the minors in my space to avoid interacting with a creator that had consistently not been responsible with how they post their sensitive works.

So truly and honestly, if you had been in my position, what what you have done? What what you have said? Because I've asked multiple people this question and no one has given me a proper answer. It's so incredibly easy to shoot the messenger here but all I did was put the truths on the table. I didn't sugar coat them and I was intentionally not specific on certain items for the sake of discretion. This was seen as being ambiguous for the sake of making Shina look worse which was not the case.

I've been on the internet for a very long time and all the things people are seeing as "innocent" like the drawing of a minor fan with her narrator and the filk fic really aren't. Implying that I'm some freak for seeing the obvious sexual overtones of the fic concept is absolutely absurd. Have you ever seen fetish artists try to defend their fetish art because it's technically sfw? It feels the same. Most people haven't read this fic concept and I have no intention of sharing it because it is not my place to do so, but I will assure you that any amount of media comprehension and unbiased consideration would show you that it's very obviously kink/fetish no matter if there's "silly and innocent" aspects of it. It had no place being discussed with people under 18 to the familiarity point of making inside jokes.

The artwork that was made was inappropriate. Having that kind of interaction with a child fan, even if it's sfw, is wrong. Consider for a moment if I had drawn my narrator, Arthur, married to one of the teenagers that have a crush on him. Imagine if a creator of a larger cartoon took any adult character and drew them romantically with a child fan. It would be under the utmost scrutiny.

People are looking at all of these issues individually as if they're in a vacuum. But the reality is that these are not isolated incidents and part of a greater whole. All together, it's troubling. All together, it warranted a warning post for my community. And now I'm left with the backlash of me trying my best to keep the community I grew safe with people leaving because the don't want to be targeted by harassment.

While I'm glad Shina did own up to her mistakes, I only made this post because it was being claimed that I was spreading misinformation and being misleading which was never ever true. I'm not surprised that people are nitpicking my attempts stand my ground on my statements but I am disappointed. I hope at least that this whole situation can act as a litmus test to filter out the people that would go out of their way to continuously excuse the behavior that made this whole thing begin in the first place.

Oh and one more thing, the ending thank you was literally a coincidence, but again I'm not shocked that my intentions were twisted.

So again, thank you for reading.

I’ve received notice that there was a callout on me in the Stanley Parable Creator’s Club server and I would like to address it as I am a bit tired of people talking behind my back. I wasn't contacted by anyone from the server directly about the issue. 

The specific accusations were that I openly discussed a fic with NSFW themes to a minor, shared NSFW fic online without properly warning it for minors, and encouraged a self insert ship of one of my Narrator designs with a minor. 

These accusations are false, or blown entirely out of proportion. I have never intended to hurt people nor endanger minors and based on screenshots I've received, people have been spreading even more extreme misinformations, like me being a groomer. I want to tell the story with the mentioned earlier things, in hopes to clear up this matter and stop the harassment me and people received. 

1) Sharing NSFW Fic Online

I have been informed that I posted a link to my fic, "A broken promise", without a proper warning. 

I did put appropriate warning in the tags, however I did forget about archive warnings options and I misjudged that the T rating would suffice. I also had only mentioned the rape in tags and not in the ao3 warning. I will be more careful when publishing work in the future.

I've deleted the links on my posts and privated the work, as I do not want anyone else to get possibly harmed.

2) Filk

I was informed my never written fic was discussed in the discord as well with a completely incorrect premise and I would like to mention the idea to give people more insight into what it actually is supposed to be, despite the fact that it was never actually written. 

Filk (Fernator's milk) is based on a joke someone made from another fic of mine, "Bon appetit 1.5 - Chicken soup is served " where Stanley buys milk and pickles, and we called it pilk. Somebody made a joke that this is like a pregnancy craving and I decided that that would make a funny CRACK fic premise. Again, I never have written this fic, and the only place it ever existed was in a series of messages in a private discord.

The whole point of crack fics is that it has a stupid premise. In here, it was one of my Narrator's, Fernator, telling Stanley he would make him pregnant. I know that this sounds like the problem, but that was just a premise.

What really happens in the fic is that Fernator tells Stanley about human reproduction but after that, the majority of the fic is a sfw adventure on how viruses, bacteria, and plants reproduce. 

With bacteria, Stanley just gets copied, with viruses, Fernator creates a computer virus and it doesn't work so they move on, and with plant, the title filk comes in which is milk with fern spores in it. It ends up just in Stanley's foot. The end goal was for them to just get the cutout Baby as their child and then, the main fic that I talked about would end. After a while, they would realise they didn't really succeed and would try to make something, pouring filk onto Fernator and creating Pickle Rick.

The accusations of this being a non con confuse me as Stanley is happy to be brought onto this journey and there are no actual sexual activities involved in this not written project. 

3) Art with minor

One person was very supportive of one of my Narrators, Jester (they drew him a bit), and even started to call him their husband. Since they're my friend, I wanted to make them happy, so I drew something I deemed wholesome and platonic. They also took my drawing this way. 

In my eyes at the time, when I made the art, I never thought of this 'ship' as anything other than admiration for a design. 

However, that context got lost when they reposted my art on that server with my permission. 

I now see how people could think otherwise and I will be far more wary about this topic in the future.

However, while the announcement didn't use the exact word 'groomer', it highly implied it. I feel wronged for that as I received a lot of harassment in my direct messages. 

I would like a statement and an apology from the announcers because their words caused a lot of harm.

4) Conclusion

I want to finish this off with being honest about the mistakes I've made of not properly checking sfw spaces - which started all this - and talking about suggestive matters within them. The fanfiction link was certainly a slip up but I will be more careful in the future of what I post. 

However - I also want to say that it's not okay to harass people who got involved in this.

I myself have received false accusations already and seen my work be misinterpreted. I only learnt about this through buds giving me a notice and I do ask, if a similar situation would ever occur, which I don't plan on, to message me directly first about my mistake.

In the future, I will remember to double check where I discuss my fic ideas and I'll do everything in my power for this situation not to repeat. 

Thank you for reading.

[mythiccheroacademia]

Hey!! Could we please get more sugar daddy fics with a black reader ofc 😋 idk if you've done shoto already but that'd be nice or hawks and deku💕

A/N: “wrist on glitter, waist on thinner, imma show you how to bag a eight-figure nigga” 👅💋 I enjoyed this way too much

All characters are 18+

Warnings: it got a lil spicy so imma put the line 

Todoroki Shouto:

this mf has money to burn 

we all know todoroki came out the womb w cash from his hair to his ass 

he’s on some “yes, jeff bezos knows me” type shit so if you’re tryna end up with someone that’s gonna possibly buy you a house, he’s your guy 

he slid into your dms after you posted a pic with your skin moisturized and glistening under golden hour and your body had him wanting to run laps 

he had been plottin on you for a min but never got the motivation to do something about it until then

he’s a no strings attached type of sugar daddy

todoroki is a big name even outside of hero work and he’s well aware of all the people that have tried to use him. so instead of letting that happen, he’s decided to do things on his own terms 

when yall first started talking, he questioned you like this was managerial position at apple 💀 

best believe he ran an in-depth background check and made you sign an NDA 💀💀💀

he was a tough one

but you passed w flying colors and y’all settled on an arrangement

you have a weekly allowance that hits your bank account every saturday with some bonuses that he’ll give you depending on how the week goes

todoroki isnt needy nor is he one to be all up in your business 

it’s actually weird in an endearing kind of way? 

he only wants to have conversations with you 

i mean, dont get me wrong, he’s up for anything you are

todoroki would be a liar if he said he never ended some nights with a picture of you and a hand down his pants 

but that’s not what he’s mainly looking for 

you figure out very quickly that shouto just wants someone to talk to 

he’ll randomly hit up your phone and have a 30 min convo about something like the weather or hero politics, and then he’ll dip

next thing you know, you got $1000 in your cashapp

you kind of panicked bc like...wtf? 

your dumb ass messaged him: “did you mean to send $1000?”

sis, dont put a question mark where God put a period

him: “Yes.”

and that was the end of that

you dont question anymore

he’s not doting in any kind of way, and sometimes you lowkey think he forgets about you, but you still get your allowance 

doesn’t send a lot of gifts unless you explicitly state you want something

he doesnt text back a lot, but he tried to respond when he can

but i do see him liking it when you send him mundane things you do throughout your day, like pics of cookies you baked, or a cool plant you saw at home depot

and he enjoys the times you and him end up just trashing his father for nearly an hour. expect to find flowers, with some expensive ass coats or something at your door the next morning 

he really fucks w your laid back vibe 

sometimes he forgets you guys arent really supposed to be friends 

Takami Kiego (Hawks):

this is not hawks’ first time being a sugar daddy

he’s hot, rich, and one of the most eligible bachelor’s in japan with a life that prevents him from having anything too serious

so, long story short, he’s a veteran at this 

he used to be the type to reach out to instagram baddies but he had a couple bad run-ins and decided to stick with the official sites because it was a lot more secure on both ends 

the funny thing was, you set up your account a long time ago as a joke. though at one point, you did take it seriously, but you came in contact with a lot of super creepy men that sexualized you for your skin and ethnicity. 

you were tired of the “chocolate king/queen” and “amazonian god/dess” comments,so you took a break. you didnt have much activity since

so imagine youre surprise when the #2 hero hit your line talking about some 

“Hey~ I’ll get straight to the point. I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to talk with you about an arrangement” 

you thought this was a fake account, but after he chatting for a little and sending some pictures, you knew he was the real deal 

hawks is your standard tit-for-tat transaction sugar daddy

he’s the type to hit you up at night with a “how ya doing, dove? got any pics for me?”

he’s good about his respect ad won’t do anything out of line

it’s the bare minimum, be he doesnt fetishize you so that’s always nice 

however, he does make you call him daddy, sir, etc. whether it’s through text, call, or when y’all get together for...reasons

ngl his dicc game is fire

he might ghost you for a week or so but he’ll always come back with a nice check to make up for it 

just be careful about catching feelings bc he’s so fucking smooth. he makes you feel like you’ve got his heart, but dont fall for that shit

if you think you can “change him” or fuflfil whatever wattpad romance fantasy lives in your head, he is not your guy. you better get on w your life before you get your heart broken

he’s here to suck, fuck, send pics, do a little phone call here n there, send some money, and go 

if you’re not with all that, you might as well dip 

but if you’re cool with that, rest assured, you’re gonna be living your best mf life with this man in your wallet 

and good news, you might not be his only, but you are his favorite

there’s just something about you that’s got him giving you a few extra thousand than he normally does 

he doesnt take his sugar babies on proper dates bc he’s gotta stay away from media outlets, but he will invite you to his office for a “lunch break”

if you ever surprise him with a cute but sexy hawks cosplay, you won’t have to work for two whole weeks bc you cant walk  

overall, he’s a good sugar daddy. defintely good for your pockets and any other non-romantic desires you want fulfilled

Mirodirya Izuku:  

the way you two met and came to this arrangement was more or less an accident

the life of the number one pro-hero was lonely and stressful 

he’s tried to dip his toes in the water here and there, but it never worked out because not many people could deal with the fact that he’d always put hero work first

he was teetering on the edge of signing up for one of those sugar daddy/baby websites until he met you at some cafe he passed by 

it’s cliche really. you were his server and, honestly? he was hooked on day one 

he watched you intently as you pranced around in your cute uniform. he couldnt stop admiring your brown skin and eyes and how cute your hair was. you spoke with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he couldnt help but swoon. and it didn’t hurt that you were very easy on the eyes

he listened to you as you went on a spiel about how college was a fortune and how you stayed up last night for a project bc you had to pick up extra shifts

that’s when he made his decision

by the time the hero is out of the door, you collected the reciept and almost fainted when you realized he left you a $500 tip and his personal number 

“i enjoyed talking to you today and i hope we can continue that...here’s something small to help with your bills. and i hope this isnt too forward but you’re very beautiful. stay safe. deku.”

and what did you do that night?

you called his ass right back

you were nervous as hell bc you still couldnt believe this was real, but after talking on the phone with him for two hours, an arrangement was set

midoriya is the most gentlemen like sugar daddy out there 

you wake up to good morning texts and a few hundred in your bank account almost every two days 

he goes crazy over your insta posts. and if you wear something green? expect a bonus

takes you out shopping unprovoked 

izuku: “are you busy? i saw you were having a rough week and was wondering if you wanted to go to that new outlet mall downtown”

you: 🏃🏾‍♀️💨  

you most certainly had homework due that night but what tf you look like missing out on that offer? 

it’s after so many “dates” that deku realizes that he prefers hanging around you more than he should but he doesnt wanna ruin anything so he keeps that underwraps 

he’s the idiot that goes into this thinking he won’t fall in love

deku defintely has some dirty thoughts about you but he doesnt try to bring it up unless you do first

if you’re comfortable with anything nsfw, you gone see a whole different side to izuku

he’s a giver, giver, giver, but when he recieves, he just about loses it

send him “innocent” pics of yourself matched with a string of filthy texts and he’ll combust 

when you send him pics of yourself in deku-themed lingre, he deadass sends you a whole black card with your name on it as a thank you

you guys get very comfortable with each other very quickly

soon enough, DA’s start turning into y/n stayng over for a week 

you both realize this relatiosnhip runs a lot deeper than an arrangement when he accidentally let it slip that he told his mom about you 

he’s profusely apologizing but you shut him up with a kiss and tell him that you’ve kinda caught feelings yourself 

your next conversation works out well for the both of you 

[yanderecandystore]

Black and Red take the advantage of Buddy being gone to flirt and drop hints about wanting to have another child with the s/o. Blacks wants to have the s/o be in a relationship now while Red wants to wait a bit more. Also I hope you feel better! Self care is best care :o - Cold Anon

Wow, I loved when I received both of your requests because like- Oh shit this fits so well!

If y'all don't mind, let's make this a complete Headcanon with both of your requests!

TW/Tags: NSFW // Forced relationship // dubcon (I don't condone this actions irl, so please read this with caution if the subject triggers/harms you in anyway) // Poly/Threesome (although it's only like half mentioned because I took way too long to write this lmao) // if you're confused on what is going on, you may want to check this [🧃] // delusional thinking and manipulation // non gender specific yandere boys and female reader just cause I'm kinda want to to make this one female just because- // swearing

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Thank God the walls are soundproof [Yandere!Among Us x F!Reader - Headcanon]:

Okay but let's first have a real talk, like- Imagine your alien dog just went missing out of nowhere, and then these hoes come in and say some shit about "family" and "mating" and all that jazz-

Bitch, my dog just ran away, control your horniness-

I think that they have been up to this point pretty much saying "we dig you, like a lot!" but also making it seem like it's nothing too serious?

Since they know you're unaware of their true feelings and intentions, it felt only right to give you some time and ease you in this relationship as quickly and smoothly as possible. Some flirting and constant compliments should have done the trick, yet you weren't really understanding what they meant with it.

You thought it was weird to see two people suddenly expressing so much affection to you despite the fact they were both married to each other and that you never felt like the type of person to attract people, so seeing two people to openly flirt with you made you think they were only joking around.

It could be their little thing, right? Flirting with other people in front of one another? Yeah, that could be it-

Of course you have assumed the possibility of them being polyamorous and are trying to call you to their family and form a triad, but then again, sounds kinda hard to believe, right? Two people wanting so badly to be with you? Sounds like something straight up out of a fantasy story.

Although, you couldn't lie that you kinda wish it to be true, since they were very pleasant to be around and well… You found them attractive and pretty charming in a weird way. Their romance with one another seemed so passionate and pure that you felt a little jealous and maybe craving a little bit of their attention.

I guess you tried your best to stay oblivious to their advantages either unconsciously or just defensively, as it can be quite shocking to receive so much attention out of nowhere from those two.

They always seemed so… I don't know, in their own little world….

After Buddy had disappeared, their presence had started to seem more stronger, it was so oddly coincidental how they started to act more friendly than ever towards you after Buddy disappeared.

You shouldn't be so suspicious of them, after all, it was only common sense that people would start to be friendlier and start comforting you after a tragedy.

Yet, you still doubted them, and right now you realize exactly why. Their weird attachment to you was starting to make a lot of sense.

It was the third time you had a breakdown after Buddy disappeared, and it's been the third time that they helped you by "comforting you out", even though you don't feel necessarily more comfortable by their constant caresses and odd words- they keep going on and on about how things will get better soon, that you'll be part of bigger family that promises to cherish you and never abandon you.

And although their words were strange and oddly soothing considering that you felt lonely due to your sweet boy running away, you still felt odd about their exact words and expressions that were thrown at you, but you disguised it as "being their awkward way of showing affection". Because it's a lot easier to lie to yourself than to admit that you were surrounded by possibly dangerous people, it was easier to believe that Buddy was going to come back anytime soon than to admit that the possibility of him already being dead was possible.

But sometimes reality will pull your hazy brain to observe the intriguing situation you found yourself in, since you were still a little hazed by the constant crying and the despair you felt for your best friend, it took you some to realize them both cuddling with you and placing small kisses here and there.

Either you had ignored/blocked out the feeling of invasive touches and phrases that were so off the rails, that even if they sugar coated their speech you would still feel threatened by it, or you were simply disassociating from this particular event.

Who would've guessed that being locked in your own room all day with only two people to talk with has started to make you crave their attention? You just felt like letting them touch you and say nice things despite how it felt…. Weird.

You started to feel guilty, to feel awkward whenever they praised you and touched you a little more roughly in more private areas. You felt good yet awful, you felt like this situation was wrong but it did feel right in some weird way.

You felt ashamed of their soft voices- Or more accurately, Red's soft voice and Black's deep breaths covering your skin with each kiss. They seemed to be on their own little worlds, just like you were a couple of seconds ago.

When you tried to free yourself and get up, Red took the opportunity to make you sit in their lap facing your back to them, they shushed you as you noticed Black felt a bit sad at your sudden reaction. You weren't expecting to be stopped from getting away from their hold which made you feel wary of the situation.

You've let them pamper you for too long, you've let them touch you and crave you for way too long. Black took the fact you were stuck on their partner's lap and decided to take a bite for themselves. A deep kiss that although heavenly sweet to them, it tasted bitter and provoked you to start wriggling against Red to get away from their hold. This was starting to be suffocating.

Yet nothing, they didn't let you, they chuckled at your struggles just like a person would chuckle at an infant playing around and trying to get their attention. Red whispered sweet nothings while Black seemed to be enjoying licking your skin, from your shoulder to your neck, it felt good yet somehow a little too… Good? There was something like desperation starting to appear in Black's breathing, their licks felt sloppy and the sounds coming from deep in their chest made your mind hazy, made your body crave more of this mix of rough and soft touches coming from them both.

Yet your mind told you otherwise, your conscious kept telling you about more important things that you should be worrying about. You felt like this was not exactly what you wanted at the moment, but your body was betraying your own thoughts as you felt yourself getting just as needy as them.

You still told Red you felt like this was happening too fast for your comfort, yet they only told you to relax and enjoy the view.

The "view" was Black getting more and more agitated, they seemed high out of their mind if not completely lost in their own instinct. Drooling like an animal, breathing like they have runned up a hill, and although there was only lust and admiration in their eyes, there was something in that frantic laugh that made you feel like there was something else in their hearts.

"- Black, we talked about this… Look at her, your scaring [Y/N], babe." Red said while pushing Black to back off a little, without putting too much pressure, just telling them to get back a little.

Black didn't take it personally yet still whined like a lost puppy. Black surprisingly hasn't said much considering the situation you were all in, you would at least hope for them to say something, yet they couldn't make any comprehensive sounds except for growling and heavy breathing.

"- Can you see it, [Y/N]? It's so adorable when they get like this, it's even better if you let them get impatient, not like you'll have to wait much, they're simply too easy to please, you know?" Red giggled into your ear as Black was grinding the bed like a desperate dog in heat, which still scared you a bit-

How hungry their eyes looked made you squirm and distance yourself from them, which led to Red holding you tighter since you were getting closer to them. It felt like it was normal for them, this sort of ritual, and you just seemed to get yourself involved in, not knowing how to respond to anything.

"- Uhn- R-Red- I…. I think we should go to sleep already-" You said, it was indeed very late, and you were starting to feel like not being part of this- Something was very, very off, your gut told you that much as you started feeling pretty nauseous.

"- So soon? Are you feeling nervous darling? I did tell a certain someone that they should have been more patient, yet they said they couldn't wait any longer-" Red said, mentioning Black who was flustered and angry at how their partner seemed to act so casually about their "condition".

"- But I don't think you need to worry your little head, after it we can go to sleep together, okay?" Red answered you while nuzzling your neck, now they noticed how much they were craving this moment, yet still not as much as their shape shifting partner.

"- No! I-I mean- Shouldn't you two sleep in your own rooms- I think the others would get suspicious of three people sleeping in the same bed." You managed to stutter out, yet you felt like your words had caused more harm than it should have.

Black growled in a more animalistic manner while also hitting their hands in the bed to try to take your attention, their expression was of anger mixed with disappointment.

Red just sighed and shook their head, they put their hand in your face and guided you to look at them, their tone sounded patronizing and disappointed.

"- It's that really what you're worried about? What other people think… This has nothing to do with anyone but us, love. So please try to focus on the now instead of how they'll react. And besides, we wouldn't want to miss this opportunity, now would we?" They said while kissing you just as passionately as Black did. Yet you didn't get what Red meant with that, so you obviously asked.

To which they didn't really respond, just hugged you again after slowly pulling away and saying:

"- Normally we have to wait up to six in six months to get their next heat, but apparently it came earlier than it should have! Isn't this beautiful darling? It's like all the stars have been perfectly aligned for us to be together." Red squeaked excitedly about the pattern of luck they've been having lately! First started with your dog disappearing, then it went to you being more comfortable with them around you, to you downright accepting being part of their family!-

The truth was actually rather bitter, you didn't really agree to any of these and you seemed to have tried to get out whenever you could, but both Red and Black took your lack of response as a sign of acceptance rather than anything else. Why else would you let them cuddle you three times in a roll, if not because of love? Why would you let them kiss you, if not because of love?

"- It's going to be so much fun adding two new members to the family, don't you think love?" Red spoke once again although not really towards you, but rather to their very attentive partner that was fuming with the idea of a new kid ever since their heat began about three days ago.

Thanks whatever cosmic entity to have granted them not only the privilege of holding you for so long during this time of need you were facing, but to also have gifted them this marvelous opportunity. Their species are fertile only periodically, it's not like they can do this any time they want, so to be in heat while your stupid bodyguard is missing it's a fucking miracle.

Yet I guess it would be really rude to mention that to you in person, after all you did love that mutt with all your heart, so-

Well, it's not like Black can express how desperately they want to pounce on you, they go through a thembofication when they're needy like this, besides- What good are words if they can simply let their moans filled the room and let it clear through actions how fucking long they have been craving this.

Your dog would have smelled them a lot sooner and tried to warn you about this, he could have prevented this but it seems like he ditched you, which is so unfair, none of them would ever leave you alone, but who cares about Buddy anymore, right? They're pretty sure that after you have a baby you'll forget him, because children and dogs are literally the same thing, ask Mini Red about it-

The fear that overcomes you when seeing them take off their disguise through your very eyes it's both heartbreaking and a little exciting. It's horrible for Black to see you screaming and trying to get out of the room despite the fact the door is locked tight and the walls being soundproof, were you really that disturbing that you couldn't handle?

Or maybe you realized who has been going around, ya know, eating people? And you thought you would be one too, which seemed to be the first time both of them understood what your worries were.

"- Oh no darling, don't worry okay! Shh- Everything it's fine- Look, we know this is sudden but it only felt right to show you the truth right now. You understand that right?"

Red tried to calm you down while simultaneously putting more fear in your heart.

"- Let me go! I-I- don't want anything to do with- With that thing! Or even you for that matter!" You spat venom at them while you squirmed in the mattress as Red was holding your arms and Black was holding your legs from kicking them.

So much hatred in only one sentence, truthfully, this wasn't going to go so well.

For you, that is.

You'll see that you love them, you see that this pity party you're throwing is absolutely ridiculous, weren't you kissing and whimpering at their touch five seconds ago? Honestly dear, hypocrisy doesn't look good on you.

But maybe you just need to relax a little, and let someone take care of you. Clearly the disappearance of "Whatever his name was" took you by surprise and made a big impact in your consciousness, but after proving you how much they have to offer, surely you'll understand their point of view.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[rose7420]

Close Encounters

Hey!! For a story request, can you do one where Thor corners a tiny teen on the kitchen counter and Loki comes in because he hears Thor talking to someone? Once Loki sees that Thor is scaring a tiny mortal, his soft, protective side comes out and he pushes Thor away from the tiny and scoops them up, saying things to calm her down. Then Thor is kinda like “Well why do you get to hold her?” Thor goes to try and grab the tiny off of Loki, but Loki isn’t having it and starts fighting with Thor, all while the teen is clinging onto Loki’s shirt because she knows that Loki is protecting her. Loki just ends up teleporting to his room and apologizes to the teen for Thor’s actions and Loki can’t even get the teen to let go of her shirt cause she’s that scared😂🥺

This was a request from the talented @laurenandloki ! Hope you like it!

Y/N had super bad anxiety. Being a borrower she never had the proper amount of socialization and she always felt like an outsider when she would quietly observe humans from a distance. They never knew she was there, but it was nice to be in the company of another living creature. One that didn’t view her as food. She had only gotten caught spying once in her life, by none other than the God of Mischief himself. That was about a month ago and he had terrified her out of her wits when they first met, yet, she discovered he was a gentle person who cared immensely for others. However, she was still a borrower and he a human so there could be no sense of a friendship for them. And so she had retreated to live away on her own in the walls of the tower.

In the current moment she stood behind a container that held sugar, she would know since she had “borrowed” from it quite a few times. But today, she came needing other items that were a bit harder to retrieve. Magnets. It sounded bizarre, but they came in handy for scaling tall objects susceptible to the magnetic pull. Magnets were hard to get because they were stuck on the fridge(which was very tall), were half as big as her body, and extremely hard to pull off the fridge. She carried a coil of rope and a harness she had made herself and roped it around her body. Latching the hook attached to the end of the rope to the top of the fridge she, scaled down the side searching for a magnet that wouldn’t be missed. That was the thing about humans. When they lost something they blamed it on their own consciousness, not the doing of a two-inch tall chick who lived in the walls. She found the right one finally and made her way down to it. So focused in fact, that she didn’t even notice the vibrations of the gargantuan god of Thunder making his way to the fridge for his next snack of the day.

“What in the nine-realms are you little one?” A huge voice booms out, ringing Y/N’s ears and stilling her movements. She knows who it belongs to already, Thor. The god has a huge personality that matches his unwavering optimism. He is also very touchy as she has observed, which is why she is not at all prepared for what comes next. She forgets all about the magnet and tries to find a grip to haul herself up the fridge with.

“It’s not safe for you all the way up there, why it must be like a building up there.” Immediately, pressure is at her waist and enormous fingers lift her off the cool surface of the fridge. His powerful movements snap her rope, losing her only way of a safe escape.

His unshaven, but kind face fills her entire line of vision. The fingers still hold her waist and his eyes search her form intently. There are too many sensations around her and her mind is overwhelmed.

Breathing becomes difficult, her sight becomes a dark tunnel and lightheadedness is all she can feel. Thor is too busy filling his curiosity to notice the panic-attack she is currently having.

“Are you ill tiny one?” Thor questions but Y/N has not the mind to answer his question. Also believing that the answer is pretty obvious.

“Brother, what do you have there?” Thor swings around, facing the owner of the voice. The motion makes Y/N even sicker to her stomach. She however does recognize the person’s voice. Loki.

Suddenly she feels even dizzier, looking up she sees she is being passed around like a toy as Loki now has her in his grasp. She lays down on the surface of his palm relishing the feeling of having some sort of control over her body. Breathing becomes easier, not as if she is inhaling through a straw and her vision is no longer blurred as she can see clearly. She glances around at her surroundings and sees she is held up to a black, soft, and cotton wall. Loki’s chest. His breaths shift her up and down, yet, the movement is comforting. She finds herself fisting his shirt with her small hands trying to burrow her body further into his chest. A loud yell causes her to jump out of her skin and cling to Loki even tighter.

“Give her here brother, I am in no mood for your tricks!” Thor exclaims loudly, hurting Y/N’s ears.

“You were frightening her Thor. Just look at her.” The comforting darkness she was kept in for a brief amount of time vanished as Loki removes his other shielding hand to reveal her to Thor. Thor bends to her level looking her directly in the eyes. Anxiety spikes in her veins again sending an uncomfortable jolt of panic in her stomach and a tightness in her chest. She whimpers audibly and turns her face to Loki’s chest once again. Why must everything be so scary? She thinks to herself.

A soothing motion upon her back takes her out of her panicking thoughts. Her face leaves Loki’s shirt and sees that he is rubbing her back with a single finger. And that she had been transported to Loki’s bedroom.

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

Loki couldn't stand seeing this small being panicking anymore. He remembered seeing the small one earlier before and letting her be, but today when she had been so vulnerable in front of his oaf for a brother, he couldn’t just stand by and watch. It was obvious that the small one was terror-struck by the presence of larger beings as himself. So he had teleported to his room to calm her down. Her entire body clung to his shirt like a lifeline and he had tried to pry her off his chest but she held strong, not willing to leave him just yet. He stopped trying to force her off him, afraid her tiny arms would break at his immense strength. Instead, he rubbed her back in soothing circles with the tip of his finger. He awed at the size difference. His entire finger dwarfed her body, it took not even a slight bend of his finger to caress her back. He shuddered at the fragility of this tiny being.

Not to mention she had put her trust in him to protect her from Thor. Even though he knew Thor was probably the only person on this earth that you would never need protection from because of his kind, generous heart. Sometimes his brother came off too strong to those he showed an intense interest with. And to this small girl, he would imagine the interaction between Thor and her would be very intense from her perspective.

Once the girl realized she was in no danger she slowly released herself from his person. He slowly raised her to his eye-level taking in the rare sight of an actual borrower. Loki had read about them in informational books on Asgard, there were not many factual books here on Earth, but they had plenty of fictional ones. From what he read, borrowers were on average around the height of three to four inches. But this girl seemed to be barely clearing two and a half. She was exceptionally small and this caused him to be even more cautious as he bore her in a palm.

She perched on her hands and knees, staring at him with big, round (Y/E/C) eyes. He had to practically bring her right on top of his nose to see her properly. He felt her anxiety rising under his close inspection and he lowered her down to his bedside table, kneeling to see her better. Awkwardness lingered at first but Loki broke the silence.

“Your exceptionally small, little one. What shall I call you?”

He watched her face scrunch up in anger, not responding to his question.

“Hmmm, let’s see… I can call you little one, of course, Thumbelina, Bite-Size, or-”

“Okay! Stop, just stop, call me Y/N.”She said with her arms crossed over her chest trying to be intimidating but failing.

“Y/N, what a delightful name. Are you alright now? I apologize for my brother’s actions.” Loki said being serious now.

Y/N nodded her head, “Y-yeah I’m okay now. I have really b-bad anxiety.” She admitted.

Loki smiled reassuringly, “I promise you to have nothing to fear from me or my brother.”

“Would you like me to assist you back to your quarters Y/N?”

“A-actually could I hang out with you for a little bit. I-I don’t really have many friends and I find your company...tolerable.” Y/N said with a bit of hesitation.

Loki laughed at her remark, “Just tolerable huh? Well, I must tell you that I find your company rather tolerable too Thumbelina.” He retorted with a smirk.

Y/N blushed and grinned, he offered a helpful palm to boost her to his shoulder.

“What should we do?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know, what do you have in mind?” Y/N asked, taking a comfortable seat where the dip in his collarbone lay.

Her little body tickled his neck and Loki laughed once again responding with, “I have a perfect idea,” with mischief coating his voice.

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

Y/N watched with fascination as Loki illusioned a snake out of thin air. Snakes did terrify her as a borrower, but way up on Loki’s shoulder she had no fear of the serpent on the ground. Loki’s shoulder was pretty comfortable, she clung to his neck and could feel every movement that he made, and his voice thundered through her when he spoke even in a whisper. They were waiting for someone to walk and spot the snake. Finally, a passerby came, one she recognized to be Peter. As he walked he immediately spotted the snake and screamed loudly running away. Loki almost doubled over in laughter as did Y/N. He cupped her in his hands, holding her safely in his embrace. Y/N couldn't stop smiling for another reason. She had finally found a friend.

[astrologichole]

the signs and their best qualities

Aries: selfless, adventurous, the hardest workers ever, cares a lot, extremely helpful, their wisdom is so unexpected but valuable, will go to great lengths to protect the people they love, charming, magnetic, will prove you wrong so don’t even try arguing with them, relentless and driven, will stop at nothing to achieve their goals even if their goals seem impossible, very sure of themselves, would probably actually kill for you

Taurus: smart as hell, really relaxed but never boring, unexpectedly creative, surprising, can be very romantic when they’re in love, always willing to try new things, funny as hell, the most sarcastic and snarky people, generally cool people with a diverse perspective, music taste is impeccable, don’t even bother trying to argue with them because their logic and debate skills are unnaturally advanced, up front and genuine, doesn’t like to bullshit people, go to them for honesty and good advice

Gemini: will give those they love everything they need, observant, not afraid to stand up for themselves, go getters in general, really silly (sometimes morbid) humor and generally fun to be around, strong, compelling, really interesting people with lots of “useless” knowledge and fun facts, knows more than they show, they’re often the most victimized sign but in reality they’re just really misunderstood because they themselves don’t understand who they are but that’s part of their charm

Cancer: the absolute most selfless, always figures out a solution even when it doesn’t seem possible, can win over anyone, timeless, they’re probably the most magnetic sign because of how fucking great their personalities are, well-rounded, wouldn’t kill for you, but would emotionally torment someone for you, knows how you feel before you even know how you feel, dreamy, honestly just lovely people, their endurance for people’s bullshit is above and beyond, even though they’re emotionally sensitive, they connect on a very deep and empathetic level and may appear disheveled but are actually pretty aware of what they feel

Leo: their minds.....ugh, one of the most underestimated signs in terms of their creativity and emotional toll, committed until the very end, when they’re in love they’re actually pretty big babies and will 100% surprise you with their sensitive nature, natural leaders but even if they’re more on the subdued side, leos still have a natural knack for understanding people on a level that enables them to move through (especially) their careers, relationships and so forth, self-aware and unafraid of judgment as judgment only adds to their constant inner quest for self understanding, stereotypical leos are known as being out there and brave, but often times leo’s want to be acknowledged for their ability to withhold themselves and be more in control than they let off

Virgo: they remember everything...everything, they’re really the baddest bitches out there, incredibly smart and determined, gives the best advice, will tell it like it is and doesn’t care to hold back what they see as true, their actions are their love language and those actions are priceless, they honestly live thirty years in the future and are really prepared even if they don’t know what they’re prepared for, while they can sometimes come off as grounded and engrained in the more serious aspects of life, virgos are actually incredibly sensitive and imaginative and are never given enough credit for their visions and virtues, able to navigate tricky situations, fearless

Libra: babies, extremely lovable, quietly powerful, not just smart but incredibly wise, gentle and caring, living, breathing fairytale people, extremely giving and gracious, even though they’re indecisive, they’ll alway try their best to make the most well intentioned decisions, they just kind of get it, can analyze you in 2 seconds and suddenly know everything about your deep rooted childhood traumas (I don’t understand how but they just do), they’re people pleasers so they’re very social, but their truest selves come out most when they can connect to someone who genuinely understands them and vice versa, they’re very tired so expect lots of naps and quality relaxation time with them, peaceful angels

Scorpio: the absolute most stubborn and unrelenting sign and while that could be a negative quality, its positive attributes are that they will not stop until they’re understood and will be wildly loyal to their morals and standards even if those moral and standards are a bit unaligned with everyone else’s, highly individualistic but can blend in easily if they want to, passionate, when they’re in love they’re in love for good (the perfect soulmates), critical for the best reasons, they don’t like to sugar coat and want to give the best advice possible while still keeping things very real, adaptable, their mind is everywhere and with that they are an endless landscape of imagination, visions, and characters all weaved within this one beautiful mind

Sagittarius: they’re just here to have a good time, would 10000% kill for you, steal for you, probably commit treason for you but they’re chillin, will go to great lengths to understand others and the world around them, cultural and diverse, very social but they also know when to pull back and seek comfort from themselves, they know how important self-awareness is and constantly seek out who they are and what they aim to be, refuses to be tied down to any one thing (not to suggest they’re incapable of finding a solid relationship, rather, they need someone who can match their unrelenting speed and drive for life), truly goes with the flow and lets life lead them rather than lead their own life

Capricorn: doesn’t seem like they’re psycho analyzing you, but they're 100% psycho analyzing you, scary smart, the hardest working sign, they’re often considered as a bit stiff and lacking vulnerability, but on the inside, capricorns are complex and other worldly and really want to be understood, they can endure and manage just about anything, is unexpectedly very artistic and deeply understanding of the emotions their art depicts, committed and responsible, incredibly reliable, they don’t like to cancel plans or ghost people, but sometimes they need time to themselves and can be susceptible to those things which is perfectly fine because capricorns deserve a bit of a departure from their usual selves, the type of person you think about even if you don’t talk to them for a long time

Aquarius: cares a lot about social issues and pressing matters, optimistic, efficient with time, not afraid to try new things, a people person (pretty popular), very free spirited, very in tune with their morals and virtues, easy to relate to when they’re vulnerable with those they’re close with, mysterious and adaptable, truly the chameleon of the zodiac signs, great listeners and even better speakers, can dictate a conversation even through silence (it’s never awkward), sometimes has a hard time loving others deeply but has an everlasting love for life so it’s cool

Pisces: also babies, empathetic and kind, dreamy, intuitive and observant, goes out of their way for the people they love (or strangers, they just like making sure everyone is comfortable), good listeners, will make you fall in love with them without them even knowing it, sensitive to other’s feelings and morals, socially aware, overall very sweet but also very encyclopedic and aware of social and political matters (can debate you under the table), will 100% take you away from reality

[lcnelyinthesky]

the human psyche - sakusa x reader

a/n: hello! recently i’ve been only writing for sakusa and it’s getting me through some stuff, so heres this. i went really hard on the writing whoopsies,, its barely fanfiction

genre: fluff? but thats a reach

pairing: sakusa x gn! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1287

enjoy!

You watch his eyes, even from the stands. The black orbs in his head track the ball and suddenly he's jumping. Suddenly there's a crash. Suddenly there's cheers. Suddenly a whistle gets one short and one long blow. Suddenly black shirts are bouncing up and down and green shirts are sulking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, he doesn’t show the joy on his face. But you know better than to look at his mouth. 

The eyes were the easiest way into the human psyche. 

It was something you picked up in high school, watching people's eyes. You’d watch every sport you could live, staring deeply into the focussed eyes of the players as you wrote diligently, noting every look and every corresponding movement. They’d track the ball as they jumped or kicked or caught or shot, most of the time, but you learned to mark the people who didn’t give anything away. Shoyo HInata jumped with his eyes closed sometimes. Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t trust his setter.

There was never anything particularly incredible about the way Sakusa played. He didn’t have the power of Bokuto or the stamina and grit of Hinata. He didn’t have the consistency of Miya. But your eyes could never leave his. 

Maybe it was because of what his eyes did off the court. Maybe it was because of the way the corners crinkled when he smiled, even though his mouth was covered. Maybe it was the way those deep, black eyes looked so uncomfortable around people. Maybe it was those deep black eyes themselves and the way they suffocated everything to dive into them. 

You were staring again.

“Excuse me” Sakusa Kiyoomi’s voice was always low and deep. It felt like dark chocolate as it melted and wrapped around your throat, tightening a grip that only existed in your mind. 

“Oh,” You stepped to the side to get out of his way as he proceeded forward, stopping a few steps closer to the door and turning around. “Sorry.” 

“Did you want something?” Sakusa’s words weren’t harsh or unkind, just frigid. They were sour and cold, but far from hostile.

“No” You spoke quickly and timidly, sticking in his mind for far longer than you had ever wished.

You had a semi-designated spot in the arena. It was the same every time, or as close to the same as you could find. Close enough to see Kiyoomi’s eyes, but far enough away so they don’t see you. 

Another game came and went, black shirts bouncing and pink ones sulking. Kiyoomi seemed to search for you this time.

You were staring again.

“Are you one of Miya’s fangirls? He doesn't like them back here.” Dark chocolate isn’t sweet, but it's not exactly tart when done perfectly. It's smooth and crisp at the same time. It has the potential to bite back, and you don’t know if it will until it's melted on your tongue.

“No, I’m not.” You turned on your heels and left the building, feeling the way Kiyoomi’s eyes burned holes into the grey fabric of your cardigan.

He wanted to speak, but didn’t. He didn’t know you, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he did.

On the third match of the weekend, he did end up having the final word. You lingered around near the pseudo green room as you always did, decked out in completely inconspicuous clothing. To any passerby, you’d seem completely out of place, but your notebook and teal felt-tip pen gave them the idea you were a reporter. The security always let you back, and you'd sit in a corner reviewing your notes. No one ever noticed you, except for him a few days ago.

“Who are you?” 60% Cacao, not too much added sugar. Looks black in dim lighting, but is simply a dark brown. The second it hit your tongue, the chocolate melted, mingling with saliva and coating every mere millimeter.

“Like, my name?” The words exchanged weren’t rude, but they were impatient. 

“Yes, your name, and what you’re doing back here, if it's not too much trouble.” His became ruder as they left his lips.

“I’m L/N Y/N. I’m a,” You paused, wondering if you should lay the situation out or not. “I’m a reporter.”

“Why’re you always back here? Aren’t reporters supposed to, well, report?”

“I prefer observation, thanks.” You walked past him until he no longer let you.

“L/N,” You stopped quickly at just his words, maybe this was the small moment you wanted. “Were you watching me?”

You continued to walk away, faster and faster until you pushed the door open with your foot. That didn’t end as expected. 

You weren’t exactly a fangirl, but more a scholar. At least that's what you told yourself. You weren’t obsessed with him, you were interested in all of it--he just happened to be the current center of “all of it.”

You gave Sakusa your full name, and he used that to his advantage, looking it up on the internet to get you out of his brain. He found an Instagram account littered with cream and beige and fake smiles and coffee. He looked far too intently at each photo, noting how you clearly were faking happiness. Kiyoomi could see it in your eyes. 

The eyes were the easiest way into the human psyche.

He felt compelled to message you, typing out draft after draft before settling on a “Our chat got cut short.”

Nothing Sakusa Kiyoomi had ever done would lead him to this, but something in him felt fine with it. It felt right, like this was fate. Then again, though, he had been described as blunt far more than subtle, so it checked out more than he imagined. 

          you’re intimidating

And you’re an enigma

          what makes you think that?

Feels right

          strange. 

          you’re strange, sakusa kiyoomi

I can tell you are too

Outside of that Amato Cafe in town. 12:30.

          alright

You could only see his eyes, as per usual. The deep abyss that existed within them added reality to the sounds you were hearing. Dark chocolate was black upon first glance, at least it was when more cacao was added. You know, though, that it's brown, as black isn’t even a color. His eyes weren’t black, they were just never ending. Maybe you weren’t enthralled by them, you were just lost inside his gaze. 

“Sakusa?” He concentrated on the sidewalk below him and the words written in pink chalk on a small, fold out board. You concentrated on the way his fists were balled in his pockets and the way a small vein on his neck pumped blood through his body. When he noticed you, you concentrated on his eyes.

The eyes were the easiest way into the human psyche. 

“Hey.” The corners crinkled as if he was smiling, but his mouth didn’t move under the thin fabric. The light hit in a way that proved every last one of your suspicions, they weren’t black. His head moved to point down a nearby alleyway. You followed him, knowing it was simply a shortcut.

“What did you need from me?” He interrupted you slightly, ignoring your question with one of his own.

“You’re not a reporter, right?”

“Not exactly.”

“Did you feel it too?”

“Feel what?”

“I know you did, I can see it in your eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

He was walking three steps ahead of you as you kept the same pace, staying behind. Your question stopped him in his tracks, and he turned around to look at you.

“Something must’ve drawn me to you, and I found what in your eyes.”

“Well, the eyes are the easiest way into the human psyche.”

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober Thirty-One

On Halloween night, at a costume party on the edge of town, you find a Lost Boy to keep you company.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, vampire Mirio, drinking, mentions of smoking, blood, vampirism, deception, a little bit of mindfuckery and manipulation.

Notes: This is it, folks! Day thirty-one of Kinktober is here and with it, a very special little Halloween fic. Today’s prompt was “Dressed Up,” which I sort of did but also sorta didn’t.

This one is a little bit longer than my usual Kinktober fare, (~3.4k) but hopefully it’ll be worth the ride. It’s also, in the spirit of Halloween, a little on the darker side, so please do heed the warnings and don’t be afraid to skip this one if spooky stuff isn’t your thing.

This hmmmm didn’t show up in the tags when I posted it this aft (even though I couldn’ve sworn it did :C) soooo reuploading! gotta love tumblr

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a bright, cold, clear Halloween night, and the parties are in full swing.

You’re at the only decent bar in town. Just like every other joint within a hundred-mile radius, tonight they’re throwing a costume party. Originally, you showed up with a friend, but she’s long gone now- drifted off with some punk sporting a chintzy werewolf costume. Ears covered in plastic fur, limp tail dangling from the back of his coat.

Whatever. At least she managed to find something fun to do.

You’re dressed like an angel, in a delicate white slip with feathered wings spreading from your back. In lieu of a real halo you’re wearing a dainty silver circlet. You’re sipping punch- pumpkin punch, says the chalkboard signs pinned up all over the bar- but to you, it tastes like vodka and orange-dyed sugar.

At least you can confirm it’s alcoholic.

You don’t recognize the song that’s thrumming through the rented, oversized party speakers, but it’s sort of catchy. You’re tapping your foot to the beat- or maybe you’re just jonesing- when there’s a lull in the surge of the crowd and you see him.

He’s a complete stranger to you- a rare commodity, in your isolated little town. He seems to tower above the other patrons, standing a head taller than most of the men on the dance floor. It’s humid and sticky inside the crowded party, but he’s wearing a leather jacket with the collar popped. His hair is a shock of mussed gold, and you almost miss the glint of a dangly earring in his right lobe.

He’s got something red smeared across one corner of his mouth. Fake blood, maybe? You’d like to find out.

His eyes are dark and deep. You know they are, because he’s staring intently at you, right across the party. Like he’s spotted you through the skulls of the crowd that separates you. Your gaze is drawn by his steady eyes. It feels like he’s not even blinking when you share a look.

You glance away. But he’s still looking- you can feel the pull of his gaze like a magnet. You lift your syrupy punch to your lips as you drag your eyes to the opposite side of the room.

No dice. When you look across at him again, he’s still there. Still looking.

The crowd passes between you. And when you find that empty spot on the bar, heavy disappointment settles into your gut. That’s what you get for wanting a little excitement.

“Hey.”

The low, unfamiliar rumble of a voice directly behind you shocks the base of your spine. You whip around with the weight of your wings bobbing against their elastic shoulder straps.

He’s even taller than you realized up close. His eyes still have that dark edge to them, but he’s grinning now. That’s not an expression you might have imagined him capable of, given the solemn way he’d stared across the bar at you.

His teeth are immaculate. He seems entirely flawless. You’re pretty sure you could cut your fingers on the sharp corners of his jaw.

“Vampire,” you quip, homing in on the smudge beneath his lip. “Very original.”

It’s definitely supposed to be fake blood. The leather jacket and dangly earring might not be a dead giveaway to anybody else, but it’s working for you.

He slips one hand into the pocket of his jeans, shooting you a low chuckle and a quiet little smirk. He reaches for you- you flinch, wings giving a telltale twitch as your shoulders bob. He catches the edge of one synthetic feather between his fingers and gives it a little rub.

“Almost as original as you, angel,” he teases. You can’t bring yourself to roll your eyes.

There’s something about him that makes everything feel more sincere than usual. He’s got an easygoing, sunny disposition, but he’s intoxicating to look at. The closer you stand, the headier you feel.

You put your cup down on the bar behind you, having had more than your fair share of vodka-with-orange-Jello-crystals Halloween punch.

“So, angel,” the vampire sighs. Both hands are in his pockets now, forcing you to come to terms with the broadness of his chest. He’s built like a brick wall, but it’s all firm muscle underneath his tight t-shirt.

Your chest goes tight as he digs one palm out of his pocket, extending it to you.

“How ‘bout a dance?”

You can’t turn him down. You can’t say anything, since your voice has died somewhere in the cavity of your chest. All you can do is give a muted little nod and slide your fingers into his.

His palm is devastatingly smooth and brisk to the touch. It’s impossible to picture anything cool at all, stuck under the relentless lights of the bar and crowded among so many sweaty, polyester-clad partygoers.

When he pulls you onto the floor, his body trickles over yours like water.

He holds you so delicately, and yet pulls you so close. Lifts your hands between his palms-massive- and draws you in by the waist.

You’d dare to say he’s graceful, dancing to the uneven beat of The Time Warp and Thriller and a half-dozen other songs that are only catchy through the month of October. His leather jacket is supple and soft beneath your touch, and you’re happy to finger the sleeves, grip the lapels as you sway and swirl.

He doesn’t pull his eyes from you once. Again, you’re overcome by that strange sensation. Like he hasn’t blinked the whole time. You can’t quite bring yourself to be freaked out by it.

“So,” you gasp, breathless and sweating by the time the music dulls enough to warrant conversation. “It’s not every day you meet a guy who can dance like that. You gonna tell me where you picked up your tricks?”

He laughs. It’s a rich, full sound, but musical. Enchanting. You’re spellbound by everything about him.

He seems entirely too good to be true. You’re just waiting to find out how.

“Practice,” he gushes, slipping a hand under your chin. You’re smiling. You’re woozy. He’s drawing you in.

He kisses you, so soft and unassuming you’re surprised he didn’t ask your permission first. His lips are as cool as his hands are, fresh and soft like a smooth mountain lake.

You dive in.

You kiss him back as best you can, twining your arms around his neck and letting him drag you close. The longer he kisses you, the hazier you feel, but there’s a taste of something on his tongue that you can’t quite figure out, and you’re determined to find out what it is.

Your vampire tangles his fingers in your hair and wrenches your mouth to his. He kisses you harder, bruisingly so, sucking and biting at your lower lip and pulling away, garishly wiping the back of his palm across his mouth.

“Come home with me,” he croons. He could have asked anything of you. Your response would have been the same.

You turn a vacant, woozy stare to him with the sound of his voice swimming in your ears. Your eyelashes bat heavily. You smile.

“Okay.”

He takes you to find your jacket, thrown over a stool somewhere. You shrug out of your wings and tuck them tightly against your chest. When you do, he eyes you with a sideways little grin.

“Damn,” he teases. “I thought those were real.”

You duck out of the place with his arm slung around your shoulders like he knows you.

The cold outside does nothing to sober you, but full moon is so bright, the cars in the parking lot cast stark shadows across the gravel. So bright, the light of the stars is drowned by it.

He leads you to a shiny Harley, parked in the last spot next to the grass.

“Whoa.”

Your vampire turns, eyebrow cocked. You realize you said that out loud. You also realize that you’ve never actually been on a motorcycle before.

“That… that’s yours?” You ask dumbly. He smirks, and your stomach goes icy.

“Hop on.”

He produces a glossy black helmet from somewhere along the bike’s gunmetal chassis and passes it to you. You slip it down over your head. The thick padding pushes your circlet painfully against your forehead. You’re sure it won’t be a long ride, though.

He stoops, reaching for your throat. For an instant you flinch, but as his fingertips brush the underside of your chin, you realize what he’s doing. You flush with heat.

He buckles the strap securely beneath your chin, making sure it’s tightened properly. His flaxen lashes give a little flutter as he finds your eyes, and he gives the side of the helmet an affectionate little tap.

You swing one leg over the rear of the bike seat as he climbs on in front of you. The leather presses cold and firm between your bare thighs. You slide a hand self-consciously over your back, making sure your dress gets tucked underneath your pelvis.

All good.

“Hold on tight,” he prompts, kicking the bike off its stand and starting the engine with a noisy rumble. You fall forward against his solid back- stronger than you anticipated- and wrap your arms firmly around his waist.

Your heart beats low and warm against his back, so solid you’re sure he can hear it. He peels out of the parking lot and onto the empty highway, and you close your eyes, warm and dark in the safety of your massive helmet.

There’s something immensely thrilling about the way the wind whips past your legs and through your clothing. It occurs to you just how stupid you are, climbing onto the back of a motorcycle with a man whose name you don’t even know.

Holy shit. You don’t even know his name.

When he pulls into the parking lot of the Day ‘n Night Motel on the edge of the highway, you don’t think to ask.

“This doesn’t look like home,” you brush. You fumble to get the strap of your helmet undone and tug it straight off your head. Your halo comes with it, bouncing across the pavement and rolling to a stop at his feet.

“It’s home for now,” he replies as he stoops. He picks the silver circlet up in both hands and presents it to you like a crown. You take it, self-conscious but not quite unsettled. There’s something about him that doesn’t seem to let you get that far.

He takes you up to the second floor and unlocks a door somewhere along the middle, shouldering it inwards. You feel a strange sort of comfort as you step over the threshold. You glance behind you, like the rest of the world might have been swallowed up as soon as you followed him.

But it’s still there. It even stays when you nudge the door closed behind you.

The curtains are drawn tightly shut, but he leaves you to throw them open now, letting silvery moonlight spill through the dirty glass like mercury.

“Let me have you,” he rasps as he comes back to you. He’s shrugging out of his jacket- his arms are way bigger than you anticipated- and he’s pulling you tightly to him. “Let me have you, let me taste you, let me wreck you, angel.”

“Okay,” you gasp. The only word you seem to manage with him around.

He kisses you just like he did at the bar, tight and urgent and needy and bruising. He walks you toward the bed, laying you down in a stark, gentle contrast to the rough way he’s kissing you.

Your coat’s fallen open and he helps you out of it, letting the fabric spread beneath you like a cloak. He doesn’t waste time at all- kissing his way down the curve of your jaw and pushing his palms under the hem of your dress.

Your skin is chilled from the wind, but it warms quickly beneath his cold fingers. You part your legs and he snags the top of your panties, tugging them harshly down your thighs. He discards them quickly and comes back to you, burying his face into the apex of your thighs.

“Oh!”

His tongue is surprisingly cool as he swipes it along your slit, but he’s gentle and attentive with his mouth, and you tangle your fingers eagerly into his mussed hair. Your pinky brushes over the edge of his pointy little earring as it bobs against his neck, and you let your head fall back against the mattress so you can lose yourself in the pleasure he offers you.

He braces icy palms against your thighs- sending goosebumps racing up your legs- and keeps his head buried beneath your skirt as he eats you out furiously. His tongue swirls coolly around the nub of your clit, then flicks it deftly.

“Stop,” you gasp, toes curling tightly in the blankets. “Please, I-I’ll…” You trail off. You can’t hold out any longer. But he heeds your warning and draws back from your body, licking his lips garishly.

There’s a carnal glint in his navy gaze that sets your nerves alight as he crawls atop your body. At some point, he’s shed his clothes- you didn’t even see him strip- but he’s wearing only a pair of tight black undershorts, and his cock stands prominently against the front of them, hard and heavy across one thigh.

“Angel,” he rasps, bending over your torso. He nuzzles the crook of your neck, nosing at your pulse point as he nibbles your flesh. For the first time he seems to lose himself, blowing a deep huff over your chest and shivering hard as his hips rock forward into yours.

“Let me feel you. Let me fuck you.” He growls. Unbridled and feral.

You tug furiously at the hem of your dress.

“Take it off,” you insist. He wedges his palms beneath the flimsy fabric, tearing a new slit up the side of the skirt in his haste to get it off you. But you’re not paying attention. You’re consumed by him. Drowned by him. In this moment, he is all you’ve ever needed.

He strips out of his shorts and comes back to you bare, palming the base of his thick shaft. He settles between your thighs and draws a thumb up your slit. Your body sings. You gasp.

A dull chill settles over your body as he lines himself up.

He slides home in one easy stroke, composed all over again as you fall to pieces beneath him. As he starts to fuck you- smooth, steady, easy- he gives you nothing more than soft huffs of effort. He’s thick and stretches you well, but his body seems to flow in and out of yours like a river. His touch spreads cool relief through your gut.

“There you go, angel,” he rumbles into your ear. He braces a hand on your belly, rutting into you and letting the gentle slap of your flesh punctuate every thrust.

Beneath him, you’re a mess. The pleasure is more than you’re prepared to handle. With every push of his hips, you feel yourself falling deeper and harder. You don’t even know his name, but with him stroking your side so tenderly, it feels like you could love him.

Somewhere along the way, his rhythm shifts. He becomes wild and brutal and relentless, fucking you deep and hard. You relish in the way the bed creaks beneath you. You cling tightly to him, mewling and howling your overstimulated pleasure into the night. Your nails rake hard over his back as you hit your peak with sobs of tight ecstasy.

Your pussy clamps down hard around his cock and he fucks you through it, pushing you further and further until you come apart, a trembling mess in his arms.

With a feral roar he draws himself back from you suddenly, spilling sticky spurts of cum across your belly and over your chest.

Your eyelashes flutter open. He’s staring down at you, cupping your cheek with that same intense look from the bar. You blink, letting your brain swim back to life.

“Your fangs,” you gasp, noticing the sharp glints as they protrude from the underside of his lip. You chuckle. “You never took them off?”

You reach up, thumbing the edge of his jaw. They align seamlessly with the rest of his teeth. The fact that they didn’t pop out on their own is impressive, if a bit strange.

“They’re good,” you confess. “They look real.”

He purses his lips tightly shut and folds his body over yours. He finds the curve of your jaw and nuzzles it. Finds the bare thrum of your pulse point and tongues it. He grins. You feel the sharp point of them against your skin- strong, surprisingly so.

He snarls.

“They are.”

You’re blinded by pain before another thought can cross you. He sinks his fangs into the flesh of your neck and you scream, clinging and clawing at his back. But he’s strong, inhumanly so, and his grip is iron as he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head. He’s patient, holding you fast.

There’s an ecstatic, heady sort of bliss bleeding about the edges of your suffering. You thrash and struggle, but eventually, you succumb to it. It’s sweet and distant and so, so, serene, and as he pulls his fangs from your neck and licks tenderly at the wound, it lingers.

“That’s it, angel,” he sooths. “That’s it. C’mere.”

He slides a hand under your back and lays you properly against the pillows. He smooths his palm over your forehead, tugging the sheets over your bare body. His face is doubled in your vision, but his lips and chin are stained garishly red. His fangs are even longer than before, but his dark gaze is peaceful.

“Sleep for me, angel,” he croons. He smooths your hair, and you’re too far gone not to listen.

When you come to, the room is empty. There’s a motel-issued glass sitting on the nightstand, filled with a thick liquid like raspberry compote.

It’s still dark out. The pain in your neck and shoulder is immense. You bolt upright, remembering all at once where you are. What you’ve seen.

It can’t have been. Your fingertips scrabble over your neck. The wounds are already starting to scar.

So it was.

You climb cautiously out of bed, grabbing your dress and hugging it tightly to his chest. The bathroom door is open and the lights are out, but you poke your head in anyway. He’s not there.

You tug the dress violently over your head. The fabric is split almost to your hip, but your jacket’ll cover it. With your shoes clutched tightly in your hand, you make for the door while you still can.

The filled glass stares from over your shoulder, halting your hand on the knob. You turn slowly toward it. Your limbs go cold.

You know what it is.

That doesn’t stop you from craving it.

You can smell it from here, sweet, rich, irresistible. You lick your dry lips and press your back hard against the door.

It’s not too late. You can leave. Right now. You can make it home, you can call somebody, you can get out.

You’re not going to.

In two strong steps, you cross the room. You grab the glass so quickly and so firmly that it cracks in your hand, but it does not shatter.

The blood of your vampire is just as sweet as you’d hoped. You take long, desperate gulps, draining the glass in an instant and swiping your palm across your stained mouth.

The door to the room sweeps open behind you. With the empty glass in your hand you whip around to face it, paralyzed and half-caught in desperate bliss.

“Angel,” he purrs. He smooths a hand over his hair and kicks the door shut with a hollow thud. He grins wickedly at you, setting ice and cool, firm desire into the deepest reaches of your heart.

“I’m so glad you decided to join me.”

[tokyoghoose]

Tsukishima and Kyotani with a self-conscious chubby s/o

bear with me please this is purely self indulgent and written with an empty, no thought but negative thought head lmao

Tw: mentions body dysmorphia and has brief suggestive content :)

Tsukishima

so first off I'd like to begin by saying, i feel like he'd be one of the characters who have been in your shoes before when it comes to feeling bad about his body...

And i say that because from personal experience, a lot of tall, skinny guys i know often feel a little dejected and self-conscious of their body and from what ive been told they feel weak, too skinny, bont, etc. Right. So although it may not be the exact same thing you are feeling, i think he'd understand and relate to it on another, physical level. He would try not to make a big deal about it, often not one to speak about his own problems unless he brings it up himself so he's not going to try and force you to tell him anything but his keen observation skills tell him all he needs to know. From the way you frown looking in the mirror after getting ready for a daye night, the way your hand lingers over your hips and stomach to the way you pick at your food or simply forgo eating a full meal in general. He doesn't want to make a scene, he knows you'll tell him about it when you're ready so he does more subtle actions instead. He'll buy your favorite snack from the vending machine and shove it in your hand with a passive aggressive mumble that he accidentally put a 2 instead of a 3 like he meant to or he'll pass over the rest of his lunch because 'i can't eat it all and i cant take it to practice of hinata will froth at the mouth.' Or if you aren't eating anything he'll 'offer' (more like tell you you're going on a date last minute) to your favorite cafe to order strawberry shortcake and split it (probably one of the most romantic things he'll do, so please 🥺 hes really trying here).

And if you happen to get upset ans have a breakdown over the fact you're bloated or you have more rolls than last week or that your thighs touch and you cant fit into your favorite jeans, he won't hesitate to actually show you how beautiful he thinks you are. Like my boy will not HESITATE. He's the type to like swing an arm around you and pull you into a side hug before shifting to pull you into his chest, sighing lightly through hia nose and rubbing soothing circles into your back for a moment. You two would probably just stand there until you calm down a bit before he starts talking to you in a low voice. It doesnt really sound sweet or anything, it's just kind of comforting in it's own way. He's not much of a praiser, in fact he says it in a very matter-of-fact way like he's stating the obvious about your body and how stunning you are. If you're feeling like he could leave for someone better he's quick to shut that down, flicking you lightly with a tsk as a way to shut you up before stating that if he could've done better he would've but you're the best. Top tier 🥺 he makes more of a conscious effort after that to let you know, probably hugging you from behind with his arms wrapped around you and kissing your thighs when he's laying his head in your lap and kisses to your shoulders. It's not much, but his efforts go a long way 🥺

kyotani

baby boy 🥺 he may not be self conscious about his body (i dont imagine he would be, more so his personality probably) but he'd be so supportive in the most passive aggressive way lol

Honestly, he'll probably be a little uoset at first, almost angry because why would you think bad things about yourself? Like its not that he's never been there or anything, but he just doesn't understand it on your level because he genuinely thinks you're like everything right in the universe. When this boy sees you, his eyes really do light uo even if his smile doesn't. So that being said he'll probably tell you off a bit begrudgingly and you might mistake it for him brushing it off but that's not his intentions, in fact everytime you mention something about your body he stores it in his memory. When he starts to notice a pattern he's one of the few hq guys i can see outright calling it out without a second thought. Straight up just being like 'why aren't you eating?' Or 'You keep changing clothes, they all fit the same. What's up with you?' He may not be as observant as Tsukishima but he's not stupid, he catches on eventually. He's not the typw to sugar coat it either, by the way. He'll be like 'yeah you don't have a thigh-gap, so what?' And 'everyone has rolls in their stomach, I like them so who cares?' Like he's not going to lie to you or anything, he doesn't do the whole noo you're not chubby thing. He tells you straight up and then he tells you how much he loves it and you anyways.

And if you were to breakdown in front of him or he were to walk into your room when you're getting ready and sees clothes strewn everywhere, it clicks instantly for him. He'll probably catch a shirt you throw to the side or pick up one hanging haphazardly off your bed— probably one he knows is new because you're probably excited to wear it out, which means it's probably your first choice if he had to guess. He tosses it to you before settling himself beside you on the bed or floor or counter. He doesn't make a move to hug you and he gives you a minute to tell him what's up before he finallt caves and just says it himself. He'll let you cry it out before placing a hand on your thigh and making a move to actually hold you. You know the whole thing where someone like kisses different places and says something, well he does that and it's actually really endearing even if he thinks it's absolutely cheesy later on when he thinks about it. But he'll kiss your cheeks, then your neck, your chest and stomach ans you know how it goes, caressing your thighs before finally kissing your lips probably changing it up from 'this is beautiful, and this is...' to like 'and you're all mine' or something before picking you up 🤪 you guys know what's next from there but it's complete body worship. LIKE literally the king of body worship now, i don't make the rules i judt reinforce them

[amylillian22]

What If I Never Get Over You (Part 3) - Chris Evans Imagine

Summary: It’s the day of Y/N and Cody’s wedding, and Chris has every intention to stop the love of his life marrying someone else. 

Word Count: 2892

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of unable to carry children/get pregnant 

Author's Note: Final chapter of the mini-series, and it was NOT easy to write. I wrote two completely different drafts before I decided THIS one was the perfect way to end it. I hope you like it.

[Part 1] /// [Part 2]

Chris sat in the back of the church in his best black suit. His heart ached as he watched Y/N in a beautiful white dress slowly walk down the aisle. A small part of him was hoping Y/N would look back at the crowd and see him sitting in the back row. It killed him knowing it wasn't him at the other end of the aisle. For years, he always knew Y/N was the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with, build a home with, and fill it up with as many kids as possible.

The pastor said, "If anyone can show cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Chris stood up from his seat and shouted, "I object!"

Except something came out. No one heard him. He tried again, but no one flinched at his words. He realized nothing came out, no matter how many times he opened his mouth and shouted. He got out of the pew and rushed towards Y/N. He literally stood in front of her and Cody, as they continued with the wedding as if he was invisible.

He fell down to his knees, feeling like he can't breathe as tears slowly fell down Chris' cheeks. He knew this was it. It was over for him as Y/N kissed her newly wedded husband.

Chris sat up from his bed, his chest heaving as he panted heavily. A sense of relief washed over him as he realized it was just a nightmare. The clock on his nightstand read 3:05AM. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He swung his legs over and carefully got out of bed.

In the dark, Chris made his way to the kitchen. He turned on the stove light to illuminate the kitchen as he made himself a cup of hot tea. He put a tea bag in his favorite mug before he watched a cup of water go in circles in the microwave. His mind drifted back to a moment he'll never forget three years ago.

The drive to the church wasn't far. Although Chris was speeding down the familiar streets of Boston, it felt like he was never gonna get there. Time was going by so slow and it didn't help that he had a million things running on his mind.

How does he stop a wedding? He's never witnessed one in real life. He's only seen them on movies and tv shows, but those have always been overly dramatic and unrealistic for his liking. His anxiety picked up as he wondered what the guest would say or do, how fast they would put it out on the social media world. For a split second, he worried what the headlines would say and what the whole world had to say.

He shook his head, letting his mind wonder about something more important. He wondered what he would do if she still didn't pick him, what if she goes on with the wedding and forever leaves Chris behind?

He slammed on the brakes in front of the church, not caring about parking in front of a No Parking Zone. He ran up the stairs, two steps at a time, and opened the double wooden doors. The lobby was empty for the most part except for one person who was on the phone. He ignored her and walked to the other set of doors that led to the main church. It wasn't empty, but it wasn't full either. A few people were fixing the decorations. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, he knew the wedding was starting soon. He wasn't early. The church should be filled with people.

Chris stopped a woman who walked towards his direction with a vase of flowers in her hands. "Excuse me, could you tell me where the bride's room is?"

"Sure. Go back out to the lobby, take a left. Then, go down the hall until you reach the fourth door on the right," she instructed.

"Thanks!" Chris quickly said before taking off to the bride's room.

It didn't take long to get there. He opened the door and was surprised to see it empty except for a girl standing in the middle of the room. She wore a black pencil skirt with a matching blazer. She spoke to her headset as she looked down at her clipboard, too focused on what was written while talking to someone on the other line.

Chris took a step towards her, causing her to look up and gasp. She placed a hand on her racing heart. "I'm sorry, there's someone here, I have to go. Chow!" She pressed the end button. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm looking for the bride," Chris said. "Any chance I can speak to her real quick? It's important."

"There is no bride."

Chris' heart dropped to his stomach. "I'm sorry, what?"

"She called off the wedding about an hour ago. My team and I are trying as quickly as we can to inform the guest. I'm sorry we didn't tell you any sooner to save yourself the trip," she said before she eyed him down. He wore a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a long sleeve, that showed off his very muscular arms. "But I'm guessing you weren't here to see the wedding," she said, knowing this wasn't the first wedding to be stopped by an ex.

"Okay, thanks," Chris pulled out his phone from his pocket as he walked out of the church. Luckily, no one hadn't towed his car or given him a ticket yet. He looked down at his phone, staring at her contact information. He hadn't called her since the break up. He doesn't even know if that's still her number. He dialed, his heart ready to explode out of his chest after each ring.

"Hello?" A guy spoke on the other line.

Chris didn't know who it was. "Is Y/N there?"

"You know, a lot of people ask for her, but you have the wrong number, dude. But I hope you find her, and if you do, can you tell her to tell everyone she knows she changed her number so they can stop calling me," the gentleman hung up, extremely annoyed that someone else had called for a woman he didn't even know.

Chris quickly got in the car and slowly drove off, not knowing where to go. He thought about going to her place, but he figured if he was in her situation, being at home is the last place he would want to be after calling off his own wedding.

She's not getting married, he kept thinking to himself. Tears welled up in his eyes as he was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. He wanted to find her and see what happened. He wanted to know why she called off the wedding. More importantly, he still wanted to tell her how much he still loves her.

Chris let out a high sigh as he pulled up to his driveway. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back on the headrest. He was grateful Scott offered to take Kayla for the day. It was bad enough he knew it was her wedding day, but somehow it felt worse that there was no wedding and he didn't know how to get a hold of her. He didn't know where she could be.

He stepped out of the car and walked around to the side entrance of his house. He stopped on his tracks when he saw Y/N sitting down on the steps, waiting for him. She looked up as she heard his footsteps. Chris immediately noticed her red, puffy eyes. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he wanted to run up to her, wrap his arms around her, kiss her, and never let her go again. Instead, he sat down next to her on the steps, waiting for her to say the first word.

"I called off the wedding," she finally said after a few minutes of silence. She couldn't look at him though. She was too scared to see his reaction.

"I know. I went to the church." She quickly turned her head to see him, her heart stopping at his words. He looked into her tear filled eyes and said, "I wanted to stop you from getting married."

She felt a small weight off her shoulders, a sense of relief that he didn't show up to the wedding to give her his best wishes. But, she still had some questions and she still needed some answers.

"Why did you do it, Chris?" Her voice cracked.

Chris looked away from her, knowing she wasn't asking about why he showed up to the church. She was referring to what happened years ago. He wasn't gonna sugar coat it. He also didn't want to elaborate on the details more than he needed to.

"I was overwhelmed with everything going on at the time. I hadn't seen you in almost a year. That was the longest we had never gone without seeing each other. One night, I was feeling extra lonely and I got drunk at a party with the cast and crew, and then..." Chris stopped, unable to say the next words, but Y/N knew exactly what happened next. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head, mad at himself for what he did.

"I didn't tell you at first when it happened." Chris noticed the shock expression on her face, but continued on with the story. "Because it meant nothing. It didn't mean anything to me. When she told me she was pregnant a couple of months later, I didn't believe her. She agreed to do a DNA test. Turns out, she was right. Kayla is mine."

Y/N noticed his lips forming a smile as he said the last sentence for a few minutes before it vanished.

"But now, I can't say I regret what happened and I wished it had never happened, because then I wouldn't have Kayla."

Y/N heart broke a little bit. Since they dated in high school, she knew how much Chris wanted to be a father and have a big family. It killed her that she couldn't give him that.

"It was easier to break up with you then to tell you the truth. I thought it would hurt less to break up with you than finding out I cheated and having a baby with someone else. I knew the truth wasn't gonna get out there because Abby and I agreed we were going to keep Kayla as quiet as possible. We didn't want the media to constantly be harassing an innocent child. It's worked so far. No one knows I'm a father. People think she's one of my nieces' friends when I take them all out together."

Y/N nodded completely understanding why Chris kept Kayla away from the public. A part of her was really impressed he's managed to keep it a secret this long.

"Y/N," he looked into her eyes. "These are not excuses. It doesn't justify what I did wrong. I know what I did was wrong and completely unforgivable. So unforgivable, I still haven't forgiven myself for it."

Chris buried his face in his hands, unable to look at her. He was too scared about what would happen next. What would she say? He couldn't watch her walk away if she decided she still wants nothing to do with him.

"Chris..." he heard the sadness and brokenness in her small voice. "There's a reason why we didn't see each other that year. That's my fault. I purposely made it impossible not to see you."

He looked up at her. Her eyes welled up with tears. The sad look on her face made his heart race in fear.

"Why?" Was all he could say.

"At the beginning of my tour, I noticed I was late. I thought maybe I was pregnant. I had my assistant set up an appointment in Houston since we had only one extra day off. Turns out, I wasn't pregnant-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Chris asked. "I would have been there for you-"

"Because you were filming. I knew they wouldn't let you leave and take days off, even if you are Captain America."

"That still doesn't explain why we didn't see each other for a whole year," he said.

Tears fell down her cheek. "The doctor said there was no way I could be pregnant because I didn't have any eggs. She says it's very rare for a young woman to lose all her eggs, but it's possible." Y/N paused for a second as the pain in her heart grew. "I couldn't see you knowing I couldn't give you what you wanted most in life, Chris. I made sure I agreed to any and all new dates added to the tour, which led to having a European tour right after our American tour. It was easier to run away from you than to tell you I can't give you your dream."

She finally let go and sobbed, Chris immediately engulfed her in his arms, crying with her knowing how much this was killing her. As a father now, he can't fathom the idea of not being able to have kids, let alone the love of his life unable to bear his children.

He cried with her as he held her tight. He wanted to take away all the pain she's dealt with since she found out. He wished he had been there for her, to reassure her everything would be fine and they would figure something out together.

"I'm sorry, Chris," she pulled back and looked at his broken blue eyes.

"I'm sorry too," he said.

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He had one arm wrapped around her shoulder as he held her hand in his, enjoying this moment together- being able to touch her and hold her.

"Why were you going to stop my wedding?" Y/N asked after a few minutes of silence.

Chris let out a deep breath. "I couldn't let you get married without knowing I never got over you," he said without hesitation. He looked down at her. "Why did you call off the wedding?"

"Chris, I never got over you," she admitted. "No matter how hard I tried, I never stopped loving you."

Chris leaned forward and released the butterflies in her stomach the second he kissed her. She didn't waste a second to kiss him back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Chris' hands moved to her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. The kiss was deep and passionate, making up for lost time.

They pulled back with their foreheads pressing against each other. Y/N cupped Chris' cheek as she looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. Chris' grip tightened on her waist, too scared to let her go.

"Where do we go from here?" She whispered against his lips.

"Hey." A soft voice pulled Chris out of his memory. He turned around to see Y/N walking towards him in his shirt. "What are you doing up, babe? It's late."

Chris sighed and wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist, pulling her closer to his chest. "Horrible nightmare. I couldn't sleep," he buried his face at the crook of her neck.

"Aww, babe," she cooed as she ran her fingers through his soft hair. Her other hand slowly ran up and down his back, trying to soothe him. "Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No. I rather focus on right now, my reality, because it's so much better." He licked his lips before gently and softly peppered her neck with soft kisses. His lips trailed up to her jaw before capturing her lips for a deep and passionate kiss. His hands moved down to her butt. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he grabbed her butt firmly as she jumped and wrapped her legs around his hips.

"I love you, so much," he said in between kisses.

She pulled back to look at him. With her left hand, she pushed his hair back, taking in every one of his features for the millionth time. She loved the way his blue eyes sparked and the way they looked when he was in awe with her every time his eyes locked with hers. Her fingertips traced his well structured jaw, his beard tickling her in the process. She smiled at him as she rested her hand above his heart. She felt it thundering against his bare chest. Her smile grew wider as she stared at the silver wedding band on her wedding finger.

Her eyes flickered up, "are you sure you're not nervous about tomorrow?"

"No. I'm ready. I'm actually very excited. Are you nervous?"

"A little bit," she admitted with a smile. "But I'm more excited. We're flying out to pick up a baby. Our baby."

Chris' eyes welled up as the day had finally arrived after years of going through the long and hard process of adopting.

"I love you, so damn much," he said.

"I love you too," she whispered against his lips before she kissed him.

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

Beaujes prompt? First kiss?

and you stood at your door with your hands on my waist,and you kissed me like you meant it.and i knew that you meant it(that you meant it)

//

“Talk to her,” Fjord says, his words dripping with more than a little frustration.

You roll your eyes and fling a handful of sand back at him.

It’s new, this thing you do together. Caduceus is so good at meditating, so comfortable with being still. But you and Fjord—the son of no one and the daughter of too many—are still struggling with it. He seems very intent on establishing himself as a proper follower of Melora, someone who takes time to consider his role and relationship with his god. Fjord is settling nicely into piety, and you simply need to learn how to exist comfortably inside yourself.

So most mornings you sit together wherever you are, even if it’s just for a few minutes. You have coats and furs when there’s snow, the shelter of trees for rain, boulders to shield against strong winds. No matter the weather, you find time to be calm with each other.

And so you find yourself on a beach in Nicodranas, sitting back-to-back with one of your first friends, watching the sun rise over the ocean. This is your favorite place in the entire world, and only slightly because of the place itself.

Fjord is breaking protocol by speaking but you’re not too bothered; you were itching to move anyway.

“It’s not—it’s stupid,” you mumble. “But I can’t.”

“Beau, if anyone can talk to Jester—and really, anyone can—it’s certainly you.”

“No, I know, but like—” You dig your hands into the sand and clam up, digging as much as you can within your reach until you find a rock. It’s a small one, and you’re too far away from the water to make it in, but you throw it anyway.

“Do you think you’ll ruin your friendship?” Fjord prods.

You’ve thought about that before, when you first told Nott about your crush on Jester. It used to worry you but it doesn’t anymore, not after spending time with Jester afterwards without noticing any changes. Certainly there were changes on your end—feelings sit differently within you once you’ve said them out loud—but Jester was the same, cheery and understanding and so, so bright. She relaxed you immediately even if she didn’t know she was doing it.

“No,” you finally reply. “But it’s like—remember how Yasha was once we got her back? Like, how it just seemed like she was waiting for one of us to beat her up and she kind of flinched whenever we smiled? It’s like that.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Whatever she feels, Jester is going to be so nice about it, and I—I can’t handle that, man.”

“So you’re just going to suffer in silence?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jester yells, and you’re more startled than you should be. You whip around to see that she’s maybe thirty feet away, smiling and carrying a plate of donuts.

You elbow Fjord as hard as you can without Jester noticing. “You couldn’t warn me she was coming?” you hiss. “I’m gonna make you suffer.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots,” Fjord responds monotonously. But you feel him rubbing his side, and you’re soothed.

You get up and dust off your pants, walking over to Jester to take the plate from her hands. “Nothing, Jes,” you say with a smile. “Just meditating.”

“Okay.” She hugs you, squishes in closer the way she does when she’s cold and wants to steal your warmth. You can’t fight a smile even as you roll your eyes, hugging back with the hand not holding the plate. As she pulls away she presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving behind a few sugar crystals; you wonder if maybe that was closer to the corner of your mouth than she intended.

“Uh…”

“Good morning, Beau!” she chirps. 

“Yeah, mornin’.”

Jester hugs Fjord with the same enthusiasm; he gives you a very deliberate look over Jester’s shoulder and you furiously shake your head.

“Are you guys about to work out or can we eat a big sugary breakfast?”

You should say no. You should stick to your training. Your body is your weapon and you can’t run the risk of letting it malfunction.

Your father and the monks trained you to be hard—for Jester, you will endure sentiment and sweetness.

“We can take a day off, I guess.”

Fjord quickly pumps his fist as the three of you sit down, plate of breakfast pastries in the middle as you all face each other. Jester immediately grabs the biggest one and smiles at you as she takes a bite, her eyes twinkling as if she knows a very good secret.

It takes everything you have not to visibly swoon. From the way Fjord coughs, you think maybe you did anyway.

Fuck, you have to talk to her.

/

But Jester sweeps you up in her energy the same way she always does, pulling you along for the ride and allowing you to forget, even for a few hours, about the part of you that is going to explode one of these days.

Every time you’re in Nicodranas, Jester wants to be outside, to do something fun or show you some special, secret place. But you’re just as happy to stay inside as long as you’re with her, so you don’t mind when it starts to rain and the two of you hole up in her bedroom.

It’s just as chaotic as Jester is, which isn’t a surprise. There are drawings and figurines shoved into drawers and shelves, worn and well-read books piled wherever there’s room. Organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. You smile to yourself over the next few hours as you imagine Jester at the Cobalt Soul, frustrating every monk who might have tried to rein her in. Not even Dairon has that much patience, you’d wager.

As the afternoon wears on into evening and the rain doesn’t stop, both of you mellow out, setting aside card games and childhood mementos for storytelling. You never had any of this growing up, the kind of bonding that comes at night when people are relaxed and close to each other. You got along with some kids at school but your father was too protective to let you out of the house even for a night. Eventually, your friend group tightened and moved on without you.

You never really missed it until Jester, until you found someone with whom you deserved to share quiet nights.

“Beau?”

Your head bounces a little from where it rests on Jester’s stomach as she speaks. You’re both laying down—Jester vertically, her ankles crossed over each other, and you horizontally, so you can bounce a rubber ball off her wall. Using her as a pillow is just an added bonus, really, and you’re sure she would have suggested it if you hadn’t assumed.

“Hm?”

“We haven’t really talked about, well, about Kamordah, and I totally understand if you don’t want to, I really do, but—we’re best friends, right?”

“‘Course we are.”

“And best friends should be able to say everything to each other, even the hard things.”

You catch the ball and don’t throw it again. “Especially the hard things,” you say, trying very hard to calm your quickening pulse.

“Okay.”

Jester rests her hands near your head, absently tickling your hairline whenever her fingers get close enough.

“What’s up, Jes?”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” she asks, tripping over her words.

You crinkle your brows. “What, like to stay? Not a chance.”

“No, no; not to stay. But, family is complicated and I know your dad is a shitbag. He doesn’t deserve you, any part of you, and I wanted to punch him so much…” Jester takes a calming breath or two; you turn your head and look up at her, at the way she consciously works to relax her pursed lips. You can’t help laughing when she catches your eye.

She smiles back and scratches your forehead on purpose this time.

“You would be such a good big sister,” Jester says, her eyes soft and sincere. “You’re so good, Beau—you’re so, so good—and you deserve the chance to give that to someone.”

“What do you think I keep you around for?” you tease.

By the way she looks at you, you think maybe Jester didn’t take it as teasing.

“Right,” she says, laughing halfheartedly. “It’s stupid; I shouldn’t tell you how to feel about your family.” She sits up on her elbows and looks out of the window, sighing when the rain doesn’t stop. “Sorry we’ve been stuck inside all day.”

You hum, just a little noise to show you’re there, that you’re listening. You want to pull her fingers down and tangle them with yours.

“What would you do,” you ask gently, “if you had a sibling?”

“Oh my gosh.” Jester huffs out a large breath; you can practically see the swirl of images and fantasies that must be playing in her mind. “I would teach them so much, like how to steal food from the kitchen or sneak up on Bluud or how to prank Mama’s clients, except I would make sure they were better at it than I was so they wouldn’t get caught.”

“You’d still want to get caught?”

“Well, yah,” Jester says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “If I hadn’t gotten caught, Mama wouldn’t have sent me away and I wouldn’t have found you. It’s like, I guess it’s like you and the Cobalt Soul only with less kidnapping.”

“Mm. Yeah, that’s a good thing to not have in your life.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have needed the Traveler if I had a sibling,” Jester muses. Maybe the Traveler wouldn’t have needed you, you think, but that’s a conversation for another day.

“That’s okay, though,” she continues. “I found most of this stuff on my own anyway.” She gestures to the knick-knacks that litter the room. “I guess it sounds stupid, when I put it like that. Wanting a sibling just so I can show them pranks.”

“Are you kidding? That’s exactly what siblings are made for.” You sit up and try not to jostle Jester too much. You look around the room, taking stock of all the stolen trinkets and homemade crafts. “Here, okay.” You stand and reach for a music box on Jester’s bedside table. “This? This is the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You cross the room and reach for a figurine on top of Jester’s bookcase that seems to be made of dried fruit and noodles. “This?” you say, pointing to it with an exaggerated finger. “Also the coolest fucking thing. And this?” You reach for a small ceramic owlbear, holding it between two knuckles as the noodle-man rests in your palm. “Absolutely fucking rad. This whole room is full of memories, Jes. Even if you only wanted a sibling just to share this stuff….what a gift, man. There’s like—” You flip the owlbear into the air and catch it on the back of your hand. “I could spend a whole day in here, just to listen to you tell me the stories of how you got all these things.”

You shove your hands in your pockets and look around at the piles and stacks of brightly colored novelties. Something buzzes inside your chest, a forgotten yearning. “Maybe I will go back again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

But Jester is waiting for you when you turn back around. She’s standing so close you’re not sure how you didn’t hear her sneaking up on you.

“Do you mean that?” she whispers. Your face falls at the heaviness in her cheeks, the worry and wet in her eyes.

“What, about Kamordah? I dunno,” you shrug. “Not for my parents, but TJ—”

“No.” Jester shakes her head. “No, not Kamordah. About—about all these stupid things.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” You rock back on your heels a little. “Nothing’s stupid when it’s yours, Jes.”

She looks at you like she might cry, like she’s carrying entire worlds behind her eyes and they’re on the verge of spilling out. You think about the few people you’ve looked at like that—you wonder, just a little—but no—

Jester kisses you just as you’re trying not to get your hopes up.

It’s clumsy, little more than just a firm press of her lips, but it’s so—Jester is everywhere else, insistent and enveloping. She walks you backwards and your surprised when your back hits her door—surely you were floating a moment ago.

Jester rests her hands on your hips; she’s unsure where to put them, you can tell. You also couldn’t care less, and you wrap your arms around her and kiss her until you run out of breath.

“Fuck, Jes,” you huff, at the same time that she heaves and “Oh my god, Beau.”

Both of you laugh, quiet and special and only for each other. 

“Well.” You lick your lips, cup her cheek and swipe your thumb gently over the bridge of her nose. “We have some things to talk about.”

“Mhm.”

“But maybe, we could nap first?”

Jester smiles and nods, takes your hand and leads you back to her bed. You realize when you lie down that you’re still holding the two toys.

Jester lifts up her covers and waits for you to settle against her. You balance the owlbear and pasta-creature on her stomach and laugh as they immediately fall over.

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon,” you yawn, “but tell me a story first.”

Jester’s voice is just as warm as her arms, and when you sleep, you dream of her.

[onf-headcanons]

INSUFFERABLE PAIN

(Jaeyoung x reader - one shot )

Quick one shot for Jaeyoung x reader with scars

• I did not even a proper draft planned for this at all so deepest apologies beforehand if this one shot fic and the nuance are quite messy. So this idea derived from the Minkyun ones I was like hmm since Minkyun's story was relationship already established, how about something prior relationship being legit  though?

• And then my instinct told me Jaeyoung is the best choice for this scenario  because of his personality . So without further ado lets go

• The character setting here would be you and Jaeyoung were once classmate but you got into an accident and while you are bedridden/in progress of rehab and healing , Jaeyoung got transferred. Later only met Jaeyoung back. (University or in company if you like)

• So I will leave it up to reader where the scars should be but it needs to be visible and covers quite large area. Either stitches or faded scars or even burnt scars will do. It is flexible exclusively for you.

• You do have a few past relationships or even being teased during your school days (once you recovered) but they all did not end well because of your scars. So it kind off became a complex of yours.

• Maybe you tend to wear long sleeves or longer jeans to cover it up even when it's summer. (Due to budget issue you family could not really afford a skin graft or even due to the affected areas are to large as the reason)

• Now you and Jaeyoung have been in really good terms with each other. (On what background I will leave it to your imagination as well. I personally might incorporate this into the office au)

• He did know a bit of the accident but seeing you doing well, he thought you recovered perfectly and did not gave any thoughts about scars or side effects. It just did not come to him because he was never disclosed with the details.

• It will a lie if you say you do not have a crush and good impression of him. By working together about 2 or 3 projects, you two found out that both of you also have a good chemistry unexpectedly.

• Good looks ,check . Caring personality, check . Someone who understands and respects your pov, check.

• But now you are always in the defensive alert mode to not go one step further to all of your relationships or potential suitors

• The gang of yours all are trying to hook you and Jaeyoung up and even plays game like truth or dare just to give you two excuse to confess with each other but Jaeyoung would always stand by your side so that no one makes you uncomfortable. That is one of the good impression  and plus point part he has made

• Until the extent some of your mutual friends begin to ask you and Jaeyoung directly if you truly have feelings with each other privately.

• So there is once that you and Jaeyoung were out on a company gathering or friend gathering and there is no more bus/train back home. So Jaeyoung offered to drive you back

• It will be the first time after knowing each other for a while, that you two being alone, without any potential disturbance

• In the car its was tense because Jaeyoung is silent. Very unusually silent. Maybe Jaeyoung is the type to prefer full concentration, no distraction while driving, you thought. You know you should break the ice but again your defensive personality kicks in because you don't want to send false intentions

• Reached your apartment and Jaeyoung pull over across the road. But before you reach out to the door handle, Jaeyoung calls out your name, which made you paused.

• Your intuition tingles because you have experienced similar scenario before. Jaeyoung adjusts his posture to face you properly. He even had his seat belt unfastened, looks like he is expecting a long covnersation.

• You bite your underlips unconsciously while resting your back to the car seat but your eyes are set to your knees.

• "I just want you to know,  that everytime when we played truth or dare, I never lied about having someone in mind." Jaeyoung starts.

• "I see. " you replies while trying to stay calm

• "Y/N, I am bringing this up because I felt we have mutual feelings. If I was wrong, do correct me." Jaeyoung continues because your reply was somewhat cold/neutral.

• Finally it has come to this, you thought. And you let out a sigh. "No, you are not wrong at all."

• "Wonderful." His tone becomes brighter. You had a quick glance of him out of nervousness,he has a smile on his face.

• "But," you continue on. " I am afraid that it is best for us to remain as friends."

• The aura changes into a solemn one.

• " Can I know the reason?" Jaeyoung carefully initiates after a slight moment of silence.

• You look at him and try to sound carefree, "Well let's just say I am not good at disappointment because I tend to expect too much."

• "Anyone will have expectations towards their partner, Y/N." Jaeyoung retorts. "It will happen in the course of relationship,it just the matter of communicating between 2 people"

• Oh ya, he is not the kind to back off with vague responds. He is the type to communicate fully without sugar-coated information.  He values a frank and straightforward approach. Its his good trait but sometimes it falls to his bad trait when he is persistent.

• Knowing his personality well enough , you decided to give it all. With a little selfish hope that he will backs off and terminates his feelings towards you.

• "How much do you know about the accident I been through?" You ask him. (Not in a interrogating tone)

• Jaeyoung scratches the side of his forehead and shrugs, trying to recall, " Not much of the details, I only know you are bedridden and needed alot of time to recover."

• You then roll up your sleeves / roll up your shirt/ roll up the hem your jeans, and show him a fraction of your scars. Jaeyoung was slightly taken aback by your sudden movements but then immediately understood once he sees your scars.

• "So you did not know about these then." You show him. " What you see now, it is just a small portion of all of it."

• By observing,  you can tell Jaeyoung is trying to organise his words, but the only thing that comes out from his mouth, none other than a soft murmur of "I am sorry. "

• "Don't be, I was the one who never mentioned it." You let out a short chuckle while arranging your clothes. "Its ok, you can give it a thought."

• But Jaeyoung response catches you off guard. "A thought on what?" He asks.

• You look at him and reply bluntly, " If you still want to take a step further with me after knowing about my ugly scars. Mind you, they covers quite large area of my body."

• "Wait, what? That?" Jaeyoung's voice rises as he heard you.

• "Of course, what else could it be?" You are now puzzled

• "I don't care about the scars, Y/N. I think you misunderstood me. " he tries to explain

• "I did?" The only reply you can make out of the confusion. Normally the other party would be gross out or freak out by your scars but Jaeyoung does not seem to mind?

• "I think its my suddenly apology made you feel like I am rejecting you mentally. " Jaeyoung analyses. "Its not actually, I was feeling sorry that you had to gone to the suffering from the scars."

• "Oh."

• "You don't sound convinced." Jaeyoung is accurate about that.

• "Well, I was expecting different kind of reactions and response from you." Your hand reaches to touch one of the place of your scars. "People normally freaks out when they sees it."

• "So you were trying to scare me away." Jaeyoung finally grasps the situation. "That's not really nice but I don't blame you."

• "My bad, my previous relationships did not work out because of them and I had enough of getting hurt." You avert your eyes from his. Your hand caressing the scar part through the fabric of your clothes. "Those heartbreaks hurts far worse than the physical wounds I had. They are not just heartbreaks, they are rejections. "

• Jaeyoung reaches out his hand and gently pats your head. "You had it rough." You did not move away or brush his hand off. You covers your face while lowkey wailing

• "Are you even normal Jaeyoung? I was expecting you to freak out. But why are you so calm? They are, quote my ex, unpleasantly horrendous." You turn your head to look at him.

• "Then how would your prefer me to react? Pass out? Or screech like a maiden?" His answer made you laugh. "And no they are not horrendous, that's just your ex having a faint heart."

• "Thank you for not being grossed out." You appreciated him after letting a satisfied laugh.

• "To be frank, I was startled at first but it all make sense to me now. Bedridden, long time to recover, and never once I see you wear something short during the summer. " says the young man beside you.

• "Now you know why." You mutters.

• "But I guess when you love someone, you love everything of theirs. " Jaeyoung continues .

• You could not believe your ears of what had come out from his mouth. Blushing hard, you repeat yourself. "Jaeyoung , are you even normal?"

• The young man smiles at you and responds, "I fell in love with you like how normal people fell in love , so rest assured, I am completely normal."

• You lower your head to hide your flushed cheeks, it is still too good to be true.

• Jaeyoung reads your body language  and decides to pry further. "So I assume that you accepted my feelings and my confession?"

• "Well... you are the only one who did not freak out... for now..." You reply him with a low voice.

• Jaeyoung ruffles you hair and thank you for accepting his feelings. "Don't worry Y/N,  I won't let you go through that insufferable pain again, I promise. "

• "You better." You smiles at him, finally.

A/N : Happy ending🤭 again so sorry if the story looks messy and rushed.

Also i not sure if I will do a first time theme smut fic based on this established relationship as well. It will interesting for sure.

[juliandev0rak]

Earl Grey 

She makes him tea, he lends her his coat, and it’s all a bit too domestic for Beatrice to handle. 

Beatrice is forced to confront the truth, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of earl grey tea. 

a continuation of the Vianan series because I couldn’t help myself 🦉🐰

characters: Beatrice Viano my apprentice, Lysander Lonan, and Leila Lonan (@leila-of-ravens’ ocs)

pairing: Beatrice Viano x Lysander Lonan / Vianan

words: 2094

warnings: more nerds pining 

read about their first meeting written by the lovely @leila-of-ravens 

and part 2 here

Beatrice wakes up in a haze, noticing that it’s much brighter outside than it usually is when she wakes up. The clock on her bedside table tells her that it's nearly 11:30, and she’s very late to the library. She hadn’t meant to oversleep, but it had taken her hours to get to sleep last night, her thoughts plagued by a dark haired man with chalk on his face.

On her way to the library she stops by the kitchen, deciding that working on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea. She asks Hestion the cook if there are any leftovers from breakfast and is handed an entire tray of pastries, somehow still warm despite the late hour. On her way out she eyes an empty teapot and decides to ask for tea as well, her brain reminding her that a certain research partner is fond of earl grey. 

She manages not to drop anything on the walk to the library but has to knock on the door to be let in because her hands are too full. A few seconds pass and the door opens a crack. Lysander’s face appears in the crack and he opens the door further when he realizes it’s just her. 

“Good morning, Beatrice.” He says, his face pulling into the tiniest smile. Beatrice is quiet for a minute, taking in the familiar face she’d been trying not to think about all night. Finally she clears her throat and steps into the door he’s holding open.

“Good morning, Lysander. I’m sorry I’m late, but I brought tea!” She says, managing an only slightly altered tone of voice as she brushes past him. He shuts the door and they walk to the work table together where Beatrice sets down the tray of pastries and tea.

“I was wondering where you were, you’re usually very punctual.” Lysander says, taking his usual seat across from her. 

“Yes, I overslept.” She explains, grabbing a tea cup for something to do with her hands. “Would you like some tea?” 

“I can make it.” He reaches to grab the cup from her but she shakes her head, causing his hand to falter in mid air. 

“It’s no trouble, I’ll pour.” She doesn’t know where the urge came from, but she’s determined to make this cup of tea for him. It’s the least she can do for being two hours late to their planning meeting. He watches her silently as she pours the tea and carefully adds a splash of milk. She hopes he doesn’t notice the way her hands shake slightly as she hands the cup to him

“Thank you.” He says, accepting the cup. He takes a curious sip and finds it perfect, just how he would have made it. 

“You’re welcome. Have you found anything interesting yet this morning?” Beatrice asks, reaching for a croissant from the tray.

“Yes, actually. I was just reading about attempts to start a school in Vesuvia nearly two hundred years ago.” Lysander replies, his voice rising in volume as it always does when he’s about to explain something.

“Really? I wonder why they were never successful? There’s been plenty of interest in a school, I can’t imagine it’s only a recent development.” Beatrice ponders, now busy preparing her own cup of tea. She plops in three sugar cubes and a large splash of milk, turning her tea the color of parchment.

“Do you always take your tea with so much sugar?” Lysander asks, his eyes trained to her as she takes a sip and then adds yet another sugar cube. She deems it good enough and takes another sip before answering.

“Yes, I like things to be quite sweet.” She explains. “It’s a bad habit, perhaps, but I can’t stand bitter drinks.” 

“You must dislike coffee then.” He says, perhaps not even aware that he’s smiling at her more widely than he usually does. “Somehow I suppose I should have known you would like overly sweet drinks.” 

“Hey, it’s not overly sweet, just sweet enough.” She laughs, taking in his expression with a matching grin. “I think maybe I need sweet drinks in order to be sweet.”

“I think you do that on your own.” Lysander takes a sip of his own tea, his facial expression and tone of voice betray nothing of his emotions. He seems wholly unaware of his offhand comment’s effect on Beatrice whose face has turned bright pink in response.

“So uh.” Beatrice stutters, not sure what to say now. Lysander seems completely unabashed as he continues to sip his tea. “What else did you find in that book?” 

“Oh yes, it detailed the first Count of Vesuvia’s attempts to start a school, but it seems there were always more pressing matters. Vesuvia was busy at war for many years, and there wasn’t much time to think about infrastructure such as public education.” He explains. “Or a proper sewage disposal system.” 

“Hey! Don’t insult Vesuvia just because Umbra is the pinnacle of modernity.” Beatrice teases.

“You’d be surprised how far Umbra is from modern.” Lysander says quietly, and although his tone hasn’t changed, Beatrice can sense that it's a sensitive topic and decides to drop it.

“Well, I suppose I’d better get to work then, we wouldn’t want people to think that Vesuvia’s headteacher is slacking off.” She smiles, reaching for the stack of books she’d been going through the night before. The two of them lapse into their usual routine of silent, focused research.

“We should finalize a list of subjects so we can assign teachers.” Lysander says after an hour or so has passed. Beatrice looks up, slightly startled by the break in silence and nods. He walks over to the chalkboard in the corner and Beatrice stands to join him. 

“We’ve already decided on reading, writing, literature, and history.” Beatrice says and Lysander nods and writes them on the board. His handwriting is neat and somehow very like him and she can’t help but remark “You have very lovely handwriting.” 

He turns to look at her but doesn’t reply, just half smiles and turns to continue the list. She chides herself for always making things awkward with her weird compliments, but she can’t seem to help the words from bubbling out of her. They finish their list and soon enough return to their respective book piles. 

She finds it difficult to focus, however, because the library is cold. Beatrice reaches to put her hands in her cloak, only to find she isn’t wearing it, she’d been in such a rush to get to the library that she’d forgotten it. She suppresses a shiver and tries to cast a warming charm on her thin blouse and trousers. It does the trick for a few minutes but she’s quickly shivering again and decides she should probably just run back to her room to get her cloak. Just as she’s considering standing up she looks up to see Lysander watching her intently. 

“Are you cold?” He asks. 

“Oh, I- uh, yes a little.” Beatrice replies, crossing her arms to keep a bit more body heat in. “I forgot my cloak, I think I’ll head back to get it.” 

“No need, you can wear my coat. I’m not cold.” Lysander says, already shrugging out of the sleeves. She watches in surprise as he hands the dark fabric coat over.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get cold, it’s not a far walk to my room.” She protests, face already turning an embarrassing shade of pink again. 

“I’m not cold, honestly.” Lysander insists, still holding the coat out. “It’s more efficient than going to get your cloak.” 

“Well alright, if you’re sure.” She says, grabbing the coat from him. “If you need it back let me know.” 

He simply nods and turns back to his book. Beatrice gives him a smile that he can’t see and pulls the coat on, trying not to notice how it smells like him, earl grey and fresh parchment. The coat sleeves are a bit too long for her and she rolls them up, trying to focus on her book rather than her swirling thoughts. 

A few hours later she remembers that she’d agreed to visit Leila today, and it's already getting late. 

“Lysander, shall we take a break to see Leila? We said we’d visit her at the shop today.” Beatrice says, shutting the heavy history book she’s been reading.

“Oh yes, I’d almost forgotten. We’d better leave now before she’s left waiting too long.” Lysander’s voice is laced with affection like it always is when he talks about his younger sister. 

“Oh, here let me give you your coat back.” Beatrice stands up, pulling the coat off.

“You’ll be too cold outside.” Lysander says,“You can just give it back to me later.” 

“Oh, alright, if you’re sure then, thank you!” Beatrice smiles, trying not to stammer through her words. She usually prides herself on being quite eloquent, but of course it goes away around the one person she’d most like to be eloquent around. 

They leave the library and hail a carriage to the shop. Beatrice would’ve normally preferred to walk but she remembers that Lysander isn’t fond of crowds and decides not to suggest it. When they arrive Leila is already standing outside waving at them.

“I was wondering when you two would show up.” Leila smiles, pulling first Lysander then Beatrice into a hug. After the greetings have been exchanged she guides them inside and to the corner booth Beatrice always sits in when she visits her friend. 

“Lysander, why don’t you look over the menu while I show Beatrice something.” Leila suggests, pulling Beatrice up from her seat. Beatrice looks at her in question but Leila just gives her a knowing look and turns back to look at her brother

“We both already know I’ll order earl grey.” Lysander says, sounding slightly confused.

“Yes, well, check over the menu for grammar errors then.” Leila replies. He looks at her blankly but decides to humor her, dutifully picking up a menu. “Come along then, Beatrice.”

“Will Lysander be ok alone? I feel bad leaving him, what did you need to show me that you couldn't show him?” Beatrice questions once they’re out of earshot. 

“He’ll be fine, the shop’s nearly empty.” Leila smiles, continuing to pull her friend into the back of the shop where nobody can hear them. “And I just needed an excuse to talk to you alone, Beatrice.”

“About what?” Beatrice asked, still confused as to why she's been towed away. She fiddles with the sleeves of Lysander’s coat and the always observant Leila immediately notices.

“Is that Lysander’s coat?” She laughs. “Oh Beatrice, you’re in deep.” 

“What? He lent me his coat because I was cold, there’s nothing to it.” Beatrice says defensively, burrowing her hands into the coat’s pockets. She finds a piece of chalk and pulls it out to look at it, a smile growing on her face before she can contain it. 

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You like him!” Leila grins, pointing a finger at Beatrice’s face.

“What? Who?” Beatrice sputters in confusion.

“Now you sound like Brigit.” Leila jokes. “Who else, silly? Lysander!” 

“I do not like Lysander!” She argues, “I mean of course I like him, just not in.. that way.” 

“Oh come on, Beatrice, don’t make me get Lysander to use his veritomancy on you. You like him, admit it!” Leila pokes another finger at her in the air and Beatrice sighs, she knows she’s been beaten. 

“Well... maybe a little.” She concedes. It’s probably about time she admits that fact to herself, though she wishes she didn’t have to.

“I knew it!” Leila says happily, almost in a screech.

“You knew what?” A voice says behind them. Both girls whirl around to see Lysander standing there, still holding a menu.

“Lyse I thought I told you to wait at the table!” Leila frowns, but there’s an undercurrent of affection in her tone that matches Lysander’s.

“I could still see you from the booth,” He laughs, and it’s a sound Beatrice really hopes she’ll get to hear more of, “Can I order my tea yet?”  

“Oh fine, one earl grey coming up, sir.” Leila says in faux exasperation, her smile giving away her real feelings, “Anything for you, Beatrice?”

“I’ll have what he’s having.” She replies, looking up to find that Lysander is once again staring back at her.

“Yeah.” Leila says, still grinning smugly. “I bet you will.”

[disarminglys]

genius and the (dream) thieves.

a/n: IT IS FINALLY HERE. this is my @grishaversebigbang​ submission in all its glory with all my wonderful materialki and corporalki. 

Corporalki: @dirtyhandsnet​

Materialki: @xan-drei​ LINK || @phy-be​ LINK || @rainbow-kueh​ LINK || @scarecrux​ LINK || @butterflysclaws LINK

Summary:  Kaz does not like to dream.

Or- no. That is not quite right. He has no issue dreaming, no problem with diving down into the depths of a mark’s subconscious to pull out the exact information that he needs, at the exact moment he needs it. Honestly, he finds the whole PASIV system to be quite useful. Crafty. Easily controlled. There are fewer variables to be worried about when you can change the world at will.

What he means is that he doesn’t like to dream for free.

aka the inception au that i HAD to write.

Ao3 Link here

wordcount: 14521 rating: T (some mild violence/blood, some language)

Fic below the cut!

Kaz does not like to dream.

Or- no. That is not quite right. He has no issue dreaming, no problem with diving down into the depths of a mark’s subconscious to pull out the exact information that he needs, at the exact moment he needs it. Honestly, he finds the whole PASIV system to be quite useful. Crafty. Easily controlled. There are fewer variables to be worried about when you can change the world at will.

What he means is that he doesn’t like to dream for free.

Not anymore. Not when he knows the value of his skill set, and what it can run him on the open market.

Truth be told, Kaz barely takes on jobs these days. And if he’s being hired, either the price has to be high enough, or he’s got to have a personal stake in the matter.

This job was the latter of the two, though the price was certainly high enough.

And for all his preparation, all his hypothetical outcomes, he still could not have predicted the way it would end or where he would be.

--

Van Eck found him in Prague.

It was a show of power as much as it was a reminder to Kaz that he was getting comfortable. When he was in the city, Kaz preferred a corner space in a chic lobby bar. Back to the wall, eyes towards both the front door and the elevators. Everyone wore crisp suits and finely tailored clothes and he fit in quite well amongst them.

Van Eck had arrived in the city that morning - Inej had spotted his private jet touching down in the small airport outside of town. Kaz wasn’t surprised to see his head of security walk through the glass doors. Surprised even less to see a sleek black car pull through and park in the valet drive.

Kaz was surprised by the slow, deliberate way the entire lobby (honestly, probably the entire hotel) cleared out, one by one. It was a neat trick, something Kaz himself should have thought of, because by the time the rotating door revealed the tall businessman, the two of them were almost completely alone.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Brekker.”

Kaz sighed, closing the lid to his laptop and leaning back into the velvet cushion of his armchair. He didn’t need to check his surroundings to know that there would be three men posted in front of the elevator, two by the back door, and a handful out near the car. Van Eck was nothing if not thorough.

“For your line of work, Van Eck, you’re a terrible liar.” Kaz looked up at the older man, noticing that he hadn’t taken off the dark wool coat from where it hung over his shoulders, trying to gauge just how confident Van Eck felt at that moment. Was he armed, or would he leave that to his men?

Van Eck chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his hand free of his leather gloves, tucking them into his outer coat pocket as he casually walked further into the lobby. “I’m an exceptional liar, Brekker. You’re just not worth the effort.”

“Oh, but I’m worth the effort to- what? Buy out an entire hotel? If you need somewhere to burn your cash, I can suggest a few more worthy causes.”

The lack of response told Kaz that his guess was right, and with a tinge of annoyance, he made a note to find a new working spot in the city. Van Eck continued walking towards him, approaching Kaz with a measured kind of caution. There wasn’t any point to try and hide the crooked, pleased smile that came to him at that fact - pleased with the impression Van Eck had of him. One of Van Eck’s men stepped forward to pull the coat from the older man’s shoulders, and Kaz noticed that he was, indeed, unarmed.

Cocky bastard.

“But please,” Kaz continued, dramatically gesturing across from him. “Take a seat. I would never turn away an opportunity before hearing the proposal first.”

Van Eck flinched, almost imperceptibly, and Kaz noted it. Two for two.

“I have a proposition for you.” Van Eck started, settling into the spot opposite him. Kaz’s brow arched and Van Eck sighed. “A job.”

“You’re wasting my time.”

Because the thing was - Kaz didn’t need outside work these days. He’d been one of the first, fully formed thieves in the dream business. He’d learned all there was to learn about the theft of thoughts, of information, of work. And by now, with the PASIV program expanding into the legal space as well, his need for going under dwindled.

He had people under his employ for that. He had teams he could hire for that. Kaz Brekker was the most infamous dreamer who didn’t dream any longer. He’s retired.

“What happened to listening to a proposal before turning it down?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, lifting his foot to settle his ankle on his knee and laying his cane across his lap. “I’m a businessman, Van Eck. When was the last time you listened to a pitch for a partnership opportunity yourself?” As the CEO of the largest manufacturers of artificial sugar, Van Eck had one of the few remaining undisputed food empires in the world. Kaz had bios on him, on all his executives, on the history of his company.

He knew, one day, Van Eck would come to him. It had just been a matter of time. Most men with that much money tended to.

More than that, Kaz could tell it pissed him off. And Kaz enjoyed nothing more than making powerful men uncomfortable.

“This is not a simple-” Van Eck paused, took a breath, controlled himself. Kaz’s grin widened, enjoying the way Van Eck had obviously been warned about Kaz’s tactics prior to this conversation, and yet still found himself fumbling. “I have a very lucrative proposition for you, Mr. Brekker. And I promise it will be worth your time.”

Kaz snorted, his eyes falling to his crow’s head cane. He could feel the anger rising in Van Eck across from him, but Kaz wasn’t in any hurry. “And how would you know how much my time is worth?”

“Because I know everything about you. From that shithole town you grew up in, how you were conscripted into the PASIV program out of Juvenile Detention. How you got out and took a device with you and have been unstoppable ever since. You have a reputation, Mr. Brekker. And not a subtle one.”

He knew the stories. He’d heard the rumors. Kaz Brekker was the Nightmare Bringer, the monster under your bed, waiting for you to fall asleep. Because Kaz was a thief, yes, but he was also vengeful. Unforgiving. Manipulative.

I make money in my sleep. He’d once told Inej, just as they had started into this business. Why should I bow to the laws of reality?

“And?”

“And I know how much your services run for. I am willing to match that.” Van Eck looked pleased, like a cat who had just caught his prey. Kaz studied the look, picked up on each and every detail in it.

“I’ll pass.”

And Kaz watched, just as intently but much more pleased, as that pleased look fell off of Van Eck’s face, replaced with one of shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Kaz set down his foot and leaned forward to grab his laptop, stowing it away in his leather briefcase. Van Eck sat with his mouth agape for a moment, then a moment more, before Kaz continued. “I do not take on deals that match a previous price, Van Eck. We’re expanding. Progression does not stall. I’m sure you can respect that.”

“Ten million.”

Kaz did pause at that, sighing. “You know, I do usually prefer the men I do business with to be desperate. But piece of advice? This does not-”

“Twenty.”

A familiar curl in his gut forced Kaz to rethink. To study the situation at hand. He was trying to  judge just how much Van Eck would be willing to put on the table, with all the possible jobs he could have brought him. The pause seemed to be enough for Van Eck to take advantage of, turning to his left and snapping once. The man who had taken his coat stepped forward, and Van Eck slipped a hand into his inside pocket, pulling out a small, sealed manilla folder. He set it on the glass of the coffee table between them, then slid it closer to Kaz.

“It’s hardly the most ridiculous thing you’ve done.”

Kaz’s eyes were on the envelope, mind racing. Inej had built up an impressive enough profile on  Van Eck Enterprises, and based off of that information, Kaz could be reasonably sure what would be inside that envelope. But he also knew how much Van Eck was worth, and how desperate he’d have to be to be here at all.

What does he have to lose?

“Because-” Van Eck could probably assume Kaz was wondering why. “I need it done discreetly. I need no trace, no weak link, and no proof of my involvement. I’m not just speaking on privacy, Mr. Brekker. I want there to be no evidence that the dreaming even occurred.”

And you want someone to take the fail if there is.

“Do we have a deal?”

Kaz weighed the options, his eyes still on the envelope. He knew what team he’d collect, who all he’d bring in. No matter who the mark might be, or whose name would be inside. It could be possible, as all things were with enough imagination. Kaz settled on a thought, and then decided, sitting back into his chair once more.

“Thirty.”

There was a pause, tense enough that Kaz could hear the sounds of a passing truck out on the street. Long enough he felt he could hear Van Eck’s jaw creak. “Thirty-?”

“Thirty million, Van Eck, take it or leave it.” And with that, Kaz stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did. Van Eck’s eyes followed him, wide and uncertain, but as Kaz finished and pulled at the hem of his jacket, straightening it, Van Eck finally spoke.

“Fine. Deal.”

Kaz grinned, reaching down and sliding the envelope from the table, touching the edge of it to his forehead in a mocking kind of salute. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He grabbed his briefcase, slid the envelope inside, and started for the door.

And you didn’t even check the job before you agreed? Inej would ask him, later that night.

Didn’t see the point. The deal is the deal.

---

“You’re telling me you didn’t even check-”

“Save it, Zenik.”

Nina turned to Inej for support, but Inej merely shrugged. The three of them were settled around a small table in the small dining room of one of Kaz’s safe houses. The older woman who lived downstairs had just dropped off enough pisto to feed an army and Inej had been the one to answer the door (meaning that she had, of course, accepted it). Nina, who had arrived in Valencia a few hours before, was not exactly jumping to get into business discussions without food present, which then led to a traditional Spanish dinner - eating and talking about things that did not include the job - for the next two hours.

By the time the job came up, it was well past midnight and Kaz had just poured himself a cup of coffee.

“And you still plan to go through with this?” Nina reached across her plate, picking up one of the photographs spread over the table. She tilted it towards herself, to get a better look, and then tossed it towards Kaz. “This is a kid, Kaz. That’s crossing boundaries I didn’t think you’d cross.”

“This is an information retrieval job, not a hit, Zenik. I’m not asking you to kill a child.”

“But you are asking me to rifle around in his head for something we don’t even know is there.” Nina scoffed, at the idea more than anything, before leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms. “This is a new low, even for you.”

Kaz glanced over to Inej, who was gently blowing over her mug of tea. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see there, but Inej seemed just as unsurprised by Nina’s outburst as Kaz felt, which didn’t make it any easier.

“The question is simple enough, Zenik. 5 million, direct deposit, one job. Information extraction. Yes or no?”

Nina sighed, tipping back her chair towards the wall. “It’s really important to me you understand how fucked up this is.”

“Yes. Or. No.”

“Fine! I’ll do it!” She said, exasperated. Kaz just barely caught the way that Inej smiled at that, a slow, sneaky curve to her mouth. “No way I’d want you bringing on anyone else and screwing with this kid’s brain. No way. After what happened the last time I told you to go screw yourself? I still feel guilty.”

“Jesper isn’t that bad of a forger, Nina.” Inej added, her tone more of a gentle reminder.

“Oh please, Inej. You’re too nice to him.” Nina shook her head. “It was embarrassing and I wasn’t even there.”

Kaz would have preferred to tune them out. He would have preferred to just up and leave and let Inej explain the rest of it. It usually went that way, with the other jobs, but there was a tugging feeling at the base of Kaz’s spine that kept him there through Nina’s babbling.

“Alright then, Brekker.” Kaz blinked, looking up to see that Nina has settled the legs of her chair back on the floor, her focus back on him. Professional. “What about the rest of the team? You’re orchestrating, as always. Inej’s is on Point. You wouldn’t come to me this early unless you needed help filling out the roster- so. Spill.”

Kaz let out a short sigh. Nina Zenik was one of the most talented Forgers in the business, and one of the most infuriatingly perceptive people he ever met. Usually, he liked to keep his time around her limited, for that reason exactly. But she was on his payroll, and he wasn’t about to chance a job like this.

“Jesper-”

“Is on Point too. Yes. You know how much you’ve ruined me for a normal team? No one else uses two Points.” Nina rolled her eyes again, exasperated, before picking up her fork to take another bite from her plate. “Architect? Chemist? You are using a Chemist, aren’t you?”

“Nina…” Usually, Kaz would have snapped back at someone using that kind of tone with him. Inej knew that much. And he appreciated, in a separated sort of way, her trying to check the other girl. But Kaz shook his head, once, letting her know he didn’t need it.

“I have a Chemist.” Kaz reached under the table, pulling another folder from his briefcase and tossing it towards Nina. She reached for it and flipped through, curious, before arching a brow.

“This is an embarrassingly thin background check for you, Brekker.”

“That’s all the information you need to know.”

Nina sighed, clearly annoyed but not surprised with his decision. “Fine, but I’ve never worked with this...Wylan. Before. Haven’t even heard of him around the dreaming circles. You sure he’s up for the job?”

Kaz picked up his coffee, taking a sip. “He has a new compound he’s been working on. It opens the mark up for heightened suggestions.”

“While dreaming?” Nina was immediately curious, and Kaz made note to watch Wylan’s job intake moving forward. He didn’t need Nina Zenik taking jobs out from under him with the possibilities Wylan’s drug could open up.

He nodded. “It’s a compound that keeps the mark under, but leaves the senses up for suggestion. Smells, temperatures, the other dreamers’ subconscious- whatever you can think of. It enforces the architect’s map.”

“And deepens the story you build underneath.” Nina sounded impressed, almost excited. “You realize what this could mean, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Kaz answered, voice flat. “We all get paid.”

Inej snorted, near-imperceptibly, and Nina shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m efficient and successful.”

“Impossibly so.”

“We’re still looking for an Architect.” Inej added in, setting her tea cup down on the table as the taller girl kicked her feet up on the only empty chair, getting comfortable as she picked through the case file. The file itself was nondescript, save for the colorless embossed crow in the bottom left corner. That had been Inej’s idea, when they started this so long ago. And people said Kaz had a flair for the dramatics. Inej glanced towards Kaz, the look telling him not to argue, before her eyes returned to Nina. “Do you know anyone who might be up for this?”

Nina tilted her head back and forth, her eyes passing over the pages that Kaz and Inej had so painstakingly collected together. Paperclipped to the inside flap was a school photo, about five years old, of a bright, grinning young boy. Written along the bottom of the photo in Inej’s clean-cut handwriting was the name “Kuwei Yul-Bo.”

The room was silent for a few seconds as Nina continued to read and think. Kaz was about to comment on it, about to tell her we don’t have all day, when she finally spoke.

“I have a guy who would work.”

Inej and Kaz passed a look between the two of them before Inej replied. “A guy?”

Nina folded a paper over the top of the folder, still reading. “Yes. I’ll need to talk to him first, but he’s good.”

Kaz thought he knew where she was going with this, and he didn’t particularly like it. “He needs to be more than good.”

Nina glared at Kaz over the top of the folder before returning to her reading. “He won’t want the money, though.”

“Everyone wants something.”

Nina was silent for the next few moments, and Kaz finished his mug of coffee. He needed to get more work done tonight before he caught a jet to Marrakech to track Jesper down. Inej, sensing his restlessness, spoke up. “Nina…”

Abruptly, she closed the file, nodding once to herself. “Let me handle it. Where are we meeting?”

“Edinburgh, seven days.” Kaz rose to stand, grinding his teeth at the sharp pain that drove up his leg. It was going to be a long night. Nina nodded, and Kaz pushed his chair away, reaching for his cane.

“You still have connections with the Russian embassy, yeah?”

Kaz looked back to her, face impassive. He asked “Why?” at the same time Inej answered “Yes.”

Nina simply nodded. “I’ll see you in Scotland, then.”

---

Jesper was never hard to find. Not when Kaz put his mind to it.

“I was turning things around, Kaz. One more hand-”

“And you would have lost the rest of whatever money you suckered some loan shark into giving you.” Kaz didn’t so much as look back to Jesper when he responded, his pace set. He could hear Jesper keeping up, though a few steps behind.

“I wasn’t-”

Kaz turned, sharply, into a back alley. The shit-hole apartment Jesper was keeping was just under half a mile away, but Kaz’s patience was fraying and their jet was leaving in three hours.

Jesper followed, breathing hard, and came to an abrupt stop when Kaz did. They were far enough from the street that they didn’t have to worry about being overhead, but Kaz’s voice was low when he turned to face him.

“When was the last time you took a job?”

Jesper’s face paled. “Kaz, I-”

“Last time, Jesper. When was it?”

Jesper’s vest was fraying along the edges. Loud silk patterns over louder colored shirts. Once upon a time, Jesper’s clothes were worth something. Finely tailored, expensive fabrics, well fitting. Now those same clothes were obviously worn, dulled and ripped, held together with haphazard stitching. Five o’clock shadow had changed the planes of Jesper’s face, but Kaz couldn’t tell yet if that was from malnutrition or something worse.

The last time Kaz reached out to Jesper for a job had been eight months ago. When he’d botched a forgery so badly they’d all nearly been stuck in a South African jail for the rest of their lives.

Jesper rubbed the back of his neck, guilty eyes searching everywhere else in the alleyway. Kaz waited, gloved hands wrapped around the crow’s head of his cane. After a moment, the other man sighed. “Ah- the last um. Cape Town.”

Kaz didn’t react. He had known the answer before he asked. “Have you gone under since then?”

“Kaz, I’m so-”

“Have you gone under, Jesper. Yes or no.”

He frowned, deflating. “Yes.”

Kaz’s brow arched, waiting for him to continue.

“It was once, Kaz. They have a den in the east neighborhood. I had a bad night, went under, and that was that.”

“And you haven’t gone back again?”

Understanding crossed Jesper’s face at that question, and the guilty look deepened. Dreaming, when you knew enough about how to do it intentionally, was addictive. Dangerously so. PASIV dens had started cropping up in major cities all around the world - Kaz himself had a working one in Amsterdam that paid handsomely. But the blurring of reality and dreams got harder, the more used to the drug you became.

Kaz had kept tabs on Jesper for eight months. He had more eyes in this city than any others. It was an investment of time, and of favors, and Kaz waited for Jesper’s answer.

Jesper’s jaw tightened as he stood a bit straighter where he was. He matched Kaz’s eyes, intentionally and stubbornly.

“No. Only once.”

Kaz didn’t actually need Jesper to answer the question. He already knew the truth. But still, he saw what he needed to see in that look and nodded, once. “I have a job for you.”

It would have been impossible not to see the hope cross Jesper’s eyes. “A job?”

“Jet leaves in two hours for Edinburgh. Be on it.” Kaz turned, then, heading for the street. His car would be turning the corner in the next few moments and he wanted to be off his feet. He’d made it to the side of the road when Jesper called back out.

“Kaz-”

Kaz paused, not turning back to him but obviously listening. He could hear Jesper let out a sigh.

“Thanks.”

There was no acknowledgement that he heard it, as a black car came to a stop along the sidewalk and Kaz got in.

---

The first crime Kaz Brekker committed was at the age of six. He and his brother had snuck out of their foster home and broke into a nearby house, raiding the freezer and eating as much ice cream as they could find.

Kaz had felt nauseous for two days after. Jordie had told him everything you want in life has a price.

They had been sent to the detention center when Kaz was eleven. He and Jordie had been running jobs for a small gang, taking packages back and forth between warehouses. Neither of them had known what was in the packages. Neither of them had thought to check. They were two orphans without job prospects and futures left for them, and the gang had given them a home. It had ended with both of them found guilty by the city and - thanks to a young, talented defense attorney and a bleeding heart judge - put into the same detention center together.

Enrollment into the PASIV testing program had been optional, with an increased possibility of decreased time. Think about it, Kaz. Jordie had told him, eyes bright. All we have to do is sleep. How hard could it be?

Harder than they imagined. Harder than they could have ever dreamed.

--

Kaz liked Edinburgh. There was a kind of significance to the dark smudges across the buildings. Stains left behind from years of progression, coal, smoke - proof that from what there had been, there is now more. More than that, the marks and stains were proof - proof that it had survived. Proof that it still stood.

Plus - the weather suited him just fine - clouded skies, slight chill, usually dreary. It left him in pain more often than not, but again, a price to pay. His leg was something of a reminder for him now, so even on the bad days, he could handle it just fine. And no one looked twice at his dark wool coat or his tall collar. He was just another businessman, just another body in the masses.

The warehouse was just outside the city, northwest of the city center. A large, two story structure that had - at one point in its life - been used for shipping containers. These days it sat mostly empty, owned by a local businessman, who forgot it existed more often than not.

Kaz has similar set-ups all over the world - a little bit of cash for safety reasons.

He arrived about four hours before the rest of the team was set to be there, but Inej had already started making the main floor home - setting chairs and equipment and tables up in a familiar pattern. She didn’t so much as acknowledge him when he stepped inside, swaying very gently to the notes of a hummed song that Kaz couldn’t quite make out.

For a few moments, he let himself watch her, staying back in the shadows, near invisible in the slowly retreating light. She had always been beautiful, a dancer even now, and it was only in the comfort of these shadows that Kaz ever let himself think as much.

And then the moment passed, and Kaz stepped out into the spacious room. Inej, hearing his movement in the corner, still did not look up.

“Running diagnostics. I’ll need a few more hours.”

Kaz continued towards the back corner, where a storage room and small office sat. “No one is supposed to arrive until after dark.” Both a reconfirmation of orders and a silent acknowledgement of her own early presence. He did not turn to look, but he imagined Inej smiling softly, shrugging once in her dark sweater.

“I prefer working in sunlight.”

He snorted, and if Inej hadn’t been smiling before, she surely would be now. But Kaz didn’t continue the banter, approaching the door to the office and quickly picking the lock. No one - not even Kaz - had the keys to this back room. It was his own form of security.

“Jesper’s coming, then?” Inej had to raise her voice a bit to echo across the space, and it gave Kaz a moment’s pause. A brief moment of tension.

Inej knew about Jesper’s last job. Knew what it cost them, knew how Kaz had reacted. A part of Kaz assumed Inej had most likely been keeping tabs on the sharpshooter, where he was and what he was up to, but she’d never be obvious about it. Not to Kaz.

He thought back to the jet ride. To the couple of hours he spent watching the anxious bouncing of Jesper’s knee. He’d dropped him off at a discreet hotel on the other side of the city. Told him to read, research, rest, and to be there on time.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

And Kaz stepped inside the office, letting the door slam shut behind him.

--

The first time Kaz dreamt, his eyes opened to an open field. The grass was swaying gently around him, reaching up to a cloudless, bright sky. It felt like home, but in that distant, distinct way that was never his. And never would be.

Somewhere, he could hear Jordie’s laughter. An echo along the wind.

But it was warm. It was peaceful. It was safe.

It wasn’t real.

“Well done. We’ll move on to the next testing phase.”

Kaz should have spent longer there. Should have lingered. A part of him wondered if he could ever go back, but he knew better. Had always, in a detached sort of way, known better. That he would never be welcome. That he would never return.

That was Jordie’s dream.

--

From his office, Kaz could hear everyone arrive. Jesper was first - good - with a loud, happy greeting for Inej. She returned the greeting in kind, and Kaz caught himself leaning a bit too much into the noise. Excited chatter, Jesper’s wolf whistle, and then a laugh. He pushed it away and got back to work until he heard the door open again.

Nina’s voice was the next one to echo through the space- greetings, more laughter, a few jokes at Jesper’s expense. Kaz did not hear anyone else among them, which meant that Nina’s architect hadn’t come with her.

She’d given him very little information - the basics for what he’d needed to know to let her bring someone in - so Kaz was curious. Matthias Helvar was a name he’d heard before, but only in connection with the military sector of the PASIV program. Nina had sworn it’d be worth at least talking to him, but Kaz was still wary.

Wary enough that he’d pulled up all the information on him that he could find. He felt better knowing he was walking into this with Mattias’ record, a copy of the warrant out for his arrest, and the knowledge of exactly who he’d need to contact in the Scottish government if deportation was in order.

When the door opened the third time, Kaz stood, collecting the rest of the files to be distributed to the team just as Jesper’s voice made it to his office.

“Oh hello there, darling. I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s-”

“Jesper-” Inej cut in, and Kaz opened the door, crossing the room to join the others. “This is Wylan, our chemist. Wylan, this is Jesper and Nina, who will be Point and Forger, respectively.” That wasn’t the first time that Inej has done the introductions. Kaz found it simpler if new team members met each other with Inej’s more peaceful demeanor. It started everything off more efficiently.

Wylan was young, Kaz knew that when he hired him into the job. And he looked all the part of his twenty years. Wide eyed, in over his head as he stood with the other three. “Point?” He looked from Jesper to Inej. “I thought you were Point.”

“I utilize two Points during my extractions.” Kaz broke into the circle, stepping past Inej to drop the stack of folders on the counter next to the PASIV container. Wylan jumped at his appearance, and Kaz could hear Jesper chuckle.

“Oh.”

“It’s not normal.” Nina chimed in, pushing off from where she’d been leaning back against a couple of stacked crates. He didn’t need to be watching her to know she was rolling her eyes. “Most teams have one Point and one Extractor.”

“We don’t take Tourists, either.” Inej added in easily.

Nina snorted. “Okay, sure, but no good team takes Tourists anymore.”

“Not true. Roddy takes them along all the time. You’ve seen how much people will pay to be part of the action.” Jesper dragged a chair from one of the surrounding tables, turning and settling with his arms crossed along the back. “You can double your pay bringing one sorry son of a bitch along for the ride.”

“You just like gambling with your jobs, Jes. No one who actually has a reputation brings tourists.”

“Ouch, Zenik. Low blow.”

Wylan’s eyes moved between the two of them like he was watching a tennis match, and Kaz felt a low grade migraine beginning to form. He hated these first meetings, especially with any new members added. They involved too much repetition and got very little done compared to what would get them paid. He was exhausted already, and they were still missing one.

Inej came to stand next to him, straightening the files he’d dropped. They stood like that for a moment, listening to Jesper and Nina bicker, until Inej leaned in a bit closer. “I haven’t heard anything from the Architect.”

He looked over to Nina, who was laughing at something Jesper was saying. When she noticed his eyes were on her, she met his look with a serious one of her own, mouthing he will be here. Wait. Kaz pulled up his hand, tapping one gloved finger against the face of his watch, and Nina rolled her eyes at him again.

After a moment, Kaz answered Inej with a low whisper, “We’re not waiting for him.” He tapped his cane on the concrete floor, a crisp thwick, thwick, thwick. Everyone’s eyes turned to him and he watched a frown pull at Nina’s mouth.

“Some of you I’ve briefed on the nature of the job. Others I haven’t. Here-” Kaz gestured to the files that Inej had straightened. “Is all the information we have that you’ll need to know. Anything we uncover during prep will be disseminated appropriately.” Nina and Jesper had both worked jobs with Kaz before, and barely so much as blinked when he began to speak. Wylan, on the other hand, looked lost. Entirely and completely without direction.

Kaz could feel the migraine growing at the base of his skull. He took a short breath as he turned to the Chemist.

“If you have questions - Wylan - ask Inej. I don’t have time for them.” And then back to the group. “This is going to be a very different job. For one- we’ll have two novices with us.”

“Matthias is not a novice, I told you-”

Kaz grestured to cut her off. “He’s a novice to this, Zenik-”

“He’s been dreaming just as long as you have, Brekker.”

“As a soldier with a confidential history that you haven’t looked into, and-”

“He’s a soldier who was legally dreaming with the military, of course his background is locked up!”

“And he’s late.”

Nina opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. Kaz’s brows lifted at her, expectantly waiting for an excuse, and when none came he nodded. Once. Point made.

Jesper whistled and Inej thunked his shoulder with the back of her hand. “Not helping.”

“Um.”

The four of them turned to look at Wylan, who was pointing towards the warehouse door. It was dark enough out that the figure in the doorway was impossible to make out. But when said figure noticed everyone turned to see them, they started in, heading closer to the light. Kaz noted the tight clip to their walk. The militaristic way they held their shoulders.

“Nice of you to join us, Sergeant Helvar.” Kaz turned back to the group, gesturing for one of the empty chairs. “If you can hurry up, we may be able to actually get started.”

The figure slowly came into the inner ring of light, showing his closely cropped blond hair and strong jaw. Kaz wondered, for a brief moment, if they were genetic traits or if the military only went after a singular type of figure. But the thought passed as quickly as it had appeared.

Nina smiled, sitting up a little straighter. Matthias glared at every single one of them before finding the only open seat and settling. An elongated pause followed as everyone sized each other up before Inej - graceful Inej - coughed.

“Right.” Kaz continued, as if on cue. “We have two novices with us. And an untested drug.”

Simultaneous, and most likely the most in sync they would ever be, Jesper, Nina, and Matthias all asked in unison- “A what?” Wylan, at the same time as well, blanched.

And so Kaz gestured to him. “Wylan is a new Chemist, has never been under, but has a history of complicated compounds. Due to the nature of this job, he’s creating a new solution. Wylan, why don’t you explain.”

The eyes all turned to Wylan - in his university sweater and terrified eyes. Kaz gestured, when Wylan didn’t immediately start explaining, and he sat up a little straighter.

“The theory- I mean, because it’s just a theory. I won’t actually know-”

“I don’t have time for your confidence issues. Now.”

Wylan swallowed thickly before a new set to his jaw settled. “It’s a different type of combination effect. Rather than the rigid system that’s been built, it allows for suggestions from the outside world as well as the dreamers.”

“You mean like the projections?” Nina asked, suddenly leaning a bit more towards Wylan, curious. She’d gotten the explanation from Kaz, sure, but actually having the Chemist in person always excited her.

“No.” Wylan shook his head. “It’s more like if you had multiple Architects, under one level. Each of the dreamers will supply the world, and it will build over itself in an attempt to bring it all together. ”

“So like limbo.”

Jesper’s voice quieted the conversation for the few moments, the weight of what he was implying heavy in the air. Kaz was not the only dreamer amongst them who had been to limbo, and therefore the implications of a regular dream being anything similar didn’t fit well.

“Um.” Wylan, uncertainly, looked to Kaz. When Kaz nodded, Wylan nodded as well. “I guess- yeah. Each of the dreamers will have an equal say on how the world functions, what projections appear, and how the world evolves as we go.”

“Which-” Inej cut in, taking control of the conversation just as the tension started to expand to an incurable point. “Means we’ll all need to be synchronized on our vision. The plan, the layout, everything. It’s part of why we have two points-” She looked to Jesper and gave him a small smile. “And part of why we’re starting prep so much earlier than normal. We need to be a united front. A team.”

Nina snorted, and didn’t bother to hide it. Inej gave her a pointed but pleading look, and Nina let out a breath in response. Kaz, on the other hand, watched the way Wylan was worrying the sleeve of his sweater.

“There’s something else.”

“Better be good news.” Jesper chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. Wylan seemed to lose more color (a feat of will, Kaz assumed) and everyone got quiet once more.

“It’s not.” Wylan coughed, then straightened his back once more - resigning himself for whatever response was to follow. “It’s not bad news, either, really. It’s just something to be aware of.” He looked to the group, before his eyes fell back on Kaz - who hadn’t turned his own away from the boy since the beginning of this conversation. It could be Kaz’s imagination, the pointedness to Wylan’s words, but there was something there. “Because of how much the dream will depend on us all equally, it will also affect the dreams in turn. When dreamers go under, there is a part of your brain that remembers that this is a dream. That’s the same part of your brain that loses connectivity, when you fall into limbo. That’s why it’s so easy to get lost down there.” He swallowed, as if building up the nerve. “In the same way the compound opens up the mark for suggestion to the dream, it will open each of the dreamers. And if the dreamers don’t kick themselves out...”

The silence following only lasted a moment before Jesper - always Jesper - broke it. “If they don’t…?”

Kaz could feel Inej’s eyes on him. Secret, unassuming, but with purpose. Kaz ignored them, the grip around the head of his cane tightening.

What’s the point of waking up, when your dreams can look like this?

“It means-” Kaz broke in, the tightness to his voice hovering just under the surface. “The team is just as susceptible to losing themselves in the reality of the dream as the mark.” A beat. “It means that we have just as much of a chance of getting lost in the dream and being unable to ride the kick. Just like limbo.”

Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath in turn. When Kaz got fed up with the tension, he pushed himself to stand, favoring his good leg.

“I sure hope you’re all in control of your mind enough to survive. The money won’t help you if you’re in a coma.”

And with that, he turned back to his office, feeling their eyes on the back of his neck.

Think about it, Kaz.

He left the rest of the night to Inej.

---

The first time Kaz Brekker shot a gun was in a dream.

It was probably a bit backwards, assigning low level juvenile delinquents to a program that taught them how to create, handle, and fire automatic weapons. Even more so when the skills that had gotten them into the detention center in the first place were the most valuable while they were under.

Jordie was much better with the weapons than Kaz had been. It could have been his size, or simply the fact Kaz didn’t like how much attention they drew. He preferred the actual search and seizure.

The program was designed to test the limits of the dream. Because while the origins of the dreaming program were meant for soldiers, in order to effectively test those limits, you needed a control group who had less eyes on them and less to lose if it didn’t work. A couple of soldiers might not attract attention, but when the state wanted to keep testing even after it was ruled an illegal trade? That’s where the detention centers came in.

These tests came in the form of puzzles. Tests that had to be done by completing a task. A lot of these tasks involved finding items hidden in a variety of different settings - cities, forests, deserts, small towns. Each of the children were given items they could use at first, but then  encouraged to come up with their own as they ‘leveled up’. They started off with things like baseball bats, crowbars, shotguns. Then graduated onto maces, medieval swords, battle axes. Items that would help them during the tests themselves.

And those tests could range - some involved finding hidden targets - folders, trinkets, answers, items. Others pitted the children against each other - games of chase, of tag. Over time, these tasks grew in severity and complexity. Winners would have days taken off their sentence. Losers, days added. They picked up on tips and tricks that some of the kids had known going in - guns were useful for range, but loud, drew a lot of attention. Knives were more easily hidden but less effective at long range. Axes could be customized, bows and arrows could be more quiet, and some of them were better at longer games of survival than others.

The first person Kaz Brekker murdered had broken Jordie’s nose during dinner earlier that week. Kaz had missed his chest, the shot landing somewhere in the boy’s stomach, and Kaz stood over him as he begged to be woken up. That he didn’t mean it. That it hurt. That, near the end of it, he was sorry. Kaz watched, unblinking, for the five minutes it took the boy to die.

That boy never bothered Jordie during lunch, again. Or Kaz, for that matter. Very few of the children did.

They settled into a kind of rhythm - Kaz was better at the puzzles and Jordie was better at the people. Who to talk to, what projections were worth keeping alive. As a team, they were unstoppable. Separate, they were unforgiving. And the memories of what they did - real or not - were a heavy weight the two of them bore together.

Kaz remembers watching Jordie, gun in hand, jaw quivering as he tried not to cry. Kaz remembers the searing pain of a subconscious’ knife tearing into his stomach and leaving him to bleed out. Kaz remembers the rush of a successful theft and the joy of a job well done and the crushing, suffocating disappointment of waking up, his eyes fluttering open to low popcorn ceilings and wrist cuffs and fluorescent lighting.

Kaz remembers most vividly the image of the light fading from Jordie’s eyes each time they opened in the same room, leaving a little less of himself there to be woken up.

Years later, Kaz had done research into what happened to the program after he’d gotten out. What they were testing for and what kind of results it produced. There was information on the associated companies, how concentrated it had been on their area, and then the names of the individuals brought on. Where they went when they completed the program and were released. Who survived the testing, gotten out, had a life.

Or, more specifically, who hadn’t.

---

Kaz did not like running any of the prep meetings. He saw very little use in the dramatics behind explaining what Inej had put so much time into collecting in each of their folders. Each job that Kaz ran came with a certain set of expectations - of time, of attention, of professionalism, of when to show up and when to perform. Kaz did not run meetings, that was part of Inej’s responsibilities, which made Nina and Jesper’s look of immediate shock a valid response. Annoying, but called for.

He dropped another file - appearing identical to the others - down on the desk. Papers and reports and photographs were scattered around it, and though it barely made any noise at all, everyone went silent.

“We start test runs on Thursday.” He explained, leaning a bit more heavily on his cane as he settled into a nearby chair. Wylan’s eyes went wide at that, and Matthias’ attention shot towards Nina. It was to be expected - it had been less than a week since they began their preparations - but Kaz paid no mind to the obvious hesitation in each of them. “The layout of the dream will need to be complete by then. I take it you can manage that much, Helvar.”

Matthias’ eyes finally pulled away from Nina, turning his cold gaze onto Kaz as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Kaz turned to Wylan. “Compound testing will start next week, as well. It will need to be strong enough for all of us to go under at once, and for the dreamer to hold the map.”

“Kaz-” Inej sounded concerned, stepping in to take Kaz’s attention away from the paling Chemist. Probably for the best. He didn’t want to chance Wylan passing out and losing a day of work. “You told me we’d have a month before going under, why are you shortening my timeline?”

He leaned back in his chair, hearing the wood creak under his weight. Dark shadows clung to the beams that held up the warehouse roof.Along the blocked-out windows he could hear the distant sound of rain on glass. The space heaters they’d brought in kept the center of the room warm enough that the chill didn’t stick, but it was getting colder. Fall was settling in.

“Things have changed.” Inej didn’t like that answer, judging by the way her jaw tensed, and Kaz shrugged. “Kuwei’s father just passed. The funeral is in three days, and Kuwei has decided to take some time off from his classes. He is planning to backpack across Europe. We have six weeks.”

Nobody said anything for a long moment. Originally, he’d planned for plenty of time for testing, for trials and errors. Originally, the whole job was going to take them about five months, potentially more. There were now too many moving parts and no time to control them all, and Kaz hated every second of it.

The clock was getting louder. Closer. Faster.

“Six weeks.” Inej repeated, glancing to Jesper, who shrugged back to her. It was an impossible task, for all of them. Kaz knew that. Kaz knew that even on their best days, six weeks was pushing it.

“Yes.” His team traded looks, uncertain and hesitant and afraid, and Kaz let out a short breath. “Which is why I’m coming too.” Wylan and Matthias didn’t understand why Inej, Jesper, and Nina’s attentions all snapped back to him. They kept looking between the others, hoping to find an answer in Nina’s slacked jaw.

It was Jesper who finally broke the silence. “You’re joking, aren’t you.” A beat. “This has to be a joke.”

“Kaz Brekker doesn’t have a joking bone in his body.” Nina didn’t take her eyes from Kaz, so when he lifted his own to her, she was staring directly at him. He could feel Inej grow tenser at his side, but he didn’t need to see her to know what she was thinking.

Kaz regarded the Forger for a moment, and then a moment longer, as if waiting for her to test him. To say too much, and cross a line. Nina, as if aware of his silent challenge, said nothing.

“Kaz…” It was Inej, closer to his side now, voice barely a whisper so the others couldn’t hear. “Do you really think that’s…”

He did not have time for this conversation.

“Wylan. Update the equation. There will be six of us.”

Startled out of his trance, Wylan’s voice cracked a bit around the word. “Six?”

Kaz nodded, once, tapping his cane on the cement floor beneath it. “Six. We’re all going under. It’s the most efficient way to keep complete control over the setting.”

“B-but you told me three? I don’t have enough-”

“Double it, then.” Kaz was losing his patience. “I already purchased the supplies. And Helvar- you’re going to have Wylan help you with the layout. I want sketches in twenty four hours.” Matthias jumped, though it was nearly imperceptible.

“What? Why?”

“If you have the time to ask, you’re running behind.” Kaz reached back over his shoulder to grab the folder, handing it to Inej who quickly read through the articles, absorbing the information before she shook her head as she handed it off to Matthias.

Kaz didn’t wait to see if Matthias would look at the information, because it didn’t really matter. “Zenik, you and Jesper are going under tonight. Inej has a PASIV set up.”

“Yeah-” Jesper cut in. “So Nina could practice her aliases.”

“Not tonight. The Russian over there is a decent enough Architect, maybe, but he has the imagination of the arctic tundra.” Nina winced, but didn’t argue. Kaz continued. “It will work for some, but not the entire level. You two are going to have to pick up some more flair if we want this to work. Plus, we don’t have time to work out kinks. You haven’t really dreamed in eight months, Jesper, and I will not accept mistakes because you’re out of practice.” That shut Jesper up, and when Nina didn’t chime in to fill the space, Kaz gestured over to the PASIV set-up, where he’d left a pile of more folders. More information. More research. “Four sets, four cities. Inej is going to check your work when you’re done.”

Kaz could feel it in Nina’s eyes - resentment, and an unspoken snark. Eight months isn’t two years, Brekker. You should be the one practicing. But Kaz didn’t allow her the time to speak, turning his back to the two of them, ending the conversation and turning to his work.

When there was a moment of silence following, he looked back to everyone - annoyed. Impatient. He motioned towards the PASIV with his cane. “Go, you heard the deadline.” And then he turned back to his desk.

With his back to the room, he couldn’t watch each of them move off to their separate corners. But he could still feel Inej’s presence settling at his side. When he glanced to his right, she was leaning against the desk, arms crossed, staring back out into the rest of the team.

“This wasn’t what we agreed to.”

“Plans change, Wraith.”

“Not yours.”

Kaz didn’t bother responding to that, looking through the material they’d already set out on the table. Early sketches, profiles, photographs. He kept looking, moving and stacking pages together where they went, when Inej’s voice dropped again to that whisper.

“Is this really a good idea?”

Inej knew why Kaz hadn’t gone on the last couple of years worth of jobs. Had been on the last job Kaz had gone under for, and had seen the way the world had fallen apart around them. The darkness, the smell of death, the chaos of an unseen assailant. Knowing Inej, she had probably seen Jordie as well. A face in the corner of all of Kaz’s dreams.

Kaz found what he was looking for, a stack of photographs of a young boy and his father on vacation. Kaz’s eyes fell to the cover of the book in the boy’s hand. He stood.

“Doesn’t matter. The decision has been made.” He passed the photo to Inej, who glanced it over - a photo she’s seen a hundred times. “Give that to Matthias. See what he can make of that book.”

Inej frowned at him. “Kaz-”

But he was gone before she could finish.

--

“It’s not meant to hold this many dreamers.” Wylan’s voice shook- both with strain, emotion, and exhaustion. He was scared, but he was also annoyed. Kaz idly found himself wondering what he would be like when he snapped.

“Unfortunately, Wylan, that’s why you’re here. To make it hold this many dreamers.” Kaz settled into the leather armchair that Inej had gotten Jesper and Matthias to drag inside for their practice sessions. Due to the fact the dream itself would have to last hours longer than normal, she found it important to bring some comfort to the process.

Kaz, with expert fingers, slipped the needle into his arm. Inej was sleeping next to him, and Nina next to her. Then it was Matthias, and then Jesper. They’d been under with the four of them a few times now, with varied results. But this would be the first time Kaz would be under with them, and Wylan was visibly nervous.

“I haven’t had enough time to prep-”

“You’re preparing now.” Kaz flicked the vein in his arm, pulling his leg up onto the footstool and settling into the cushions. Kaz closed his eyes, forcing the tension out of his limbs and shoulders. “Make sure you get it right.”

And then he was under, a blink of an eye and darkness. Emptiness. The loss of self. Of everything around him.

The sensation was familiar enough - the feeling of falling, the feeling of loss, the panic and the warmth and the familiarity of a reality that is not, wholly, yours.

Kaz opened his eyes in the middle of a storm. It was freezing, ice and snow and shards of rock flying around him. Distantly, he could hear Nina yelling. A part of the earth around them shot up into the sky, and Kaz noticed someone who had to be Matthias knocked to the ground. Nina jumped off to the side, avoiding another piece of earth and ice.

Jesper was somewhere in the flurry, screaming “What the hell is this?”

And Inej, who Kaz found immediately at the sound of her voice. “Some kind of earthquake!”

“No.” Nina’s voice sounded guilty. Like she knew exactly what was happening, and as if she was standing right next to him. “We’re under attack.”

This was supposed to be a simple creation dream. They had started to decide on the layout, on the general weather. It was going to be in the north, a kind of tundra (had to make it easy for Helvar, after all). It would be an empty landscape, it would have weather, and that was that. It was supposed to be a trial run of the compound, not an event-heavy training dream.

“I need a distraction!” Jesper was still out there somewhere, in the sleet and rocks and wind.

“Get down!” Wylan’s voice - which meant he was here now, too. Had followed Kaz under like he was told to. Officially, they were six under with the new compound. Kaz tried to feel satisfied with how it was working. Proud, in a way, that Wylan’s chemistry panned out. But when he looked around to find the boy, his eyes fell to Inej, who was signalling to him. A familiar look.

He settled back against a large rock slab, settling his weight, threading his fingers together. Inej started running, and in half a moment, she used his hands as a springboard to get over the slab of rock keeping them held together.

There was more screaming, shots rang out, and then the storm started to settle. Kaz, now able to see more than five feet around himself, took a look at the scenery. The location. The damage. They were all in costume, different clothes and different looks that, somehow, still managed to fit the feel.

Another explosion. Another rock fell. And then the six of them started to collect.

Nina looked haunted, exhausted, and Matthias was helping her to her feet. Jesper was checking the pistols in his hands, like he was truly enjoying them for the first time, and Wylan looked both terrified and pleased with himself.

Once they were all in ear shot and Inej had returned, Nina brushed off the front of her red...he assumes it’s a robe. Some kind of cloak.

“What was that?” Jesper finally asked, sliding his pistols back into the holsters at his hip.

“That was...me.” Nina admitted, out of breath. “I don’t know why. I usually have more control over this kind of thing.”

“It’s the compound.” Wylan admitted, just as guilty. “It’s stronger than I thought. It’s something to know going forward, too. If we all are going to be able to bring in this level of chaos-”

“You all need to train your subconscious more strictly.” Matthias muttered, with a hand still at the small of Nina’s back. “We can’t deal with that during the mission. Right, demon?”

But Matthias’ voice was a little too far off for Kaz to really hear him. Too far away for him to notice everyone’s eyes turned to him. Instead, he was staring off to the horizon. To a single dark shape right outside of his vision. Inej, who approached him then, tugged at his sleeve.

“Kaz.”

He blinked, pulling himself from the trance. Inej was staring at him. As was Matthias, and Nina. Jesper and Wylan were fumbling with the pistols and the explosives split between them, unaware, and Kaz was momentarily thankful for that.

There was another set of eyes on the back of his neck, Kaz knew, but he forced himself to keep attention here. To ignore the slowly building feeling of panic that started bubbling at his gut.

“We’ll need to up the practice times. Everyone needs to be comfortable being this open.” The irony was not lost on him, no, but he didn’t need that look from Inej, either. “Now- get settled. We need to start building together. Wylan-” Wylan jumped, turning his attention to Kaz like a student being reprimanded. Kaz motioned to the wreckage around them. “This is your compound. Show us how to use it.”

Wylan nodded, stepping in closer to Matthias and Nina to start explaining some of the finer details, and the conversation moved. Kaz could still feel Inej’s eyes on him, which is why he found himself jerking his arm away. “I’m fine.” He muttered under his breath.

Inej, suspicious, simply nodded and turned to the others.

When Kaz looked back to the horizon, the figure was gone. But in its place was the barest brush of a warm wind. The smell of grass. A shining, bright blue.

This is Jordie’s dream.

---

The first time Kaz watched Jordie die, it was at his own hands.

It was an accident. Jordie wasn’t supposed to be the body on the other side of the door. Kaz had been hunting, running from the fear of something following him. He’d been prepared to protect himself. Do anything necessary to protect himself.

Jordie, later, admitted he didn’t know it was Kaz he was hunting. There had been this need to find whatever was running from him. This urge to collect it. Save it. End it.

There was so much blood. Warm, and sticky, and thick. Jordie’s face was surprised, before it lost all color, and he crumbled into him. Kaz, terrified, unsure, panicked, young, desperately trying to press at the gushing blood like if he could just make it stop it’ll be fine.

When they woke, Jordie had promised him it was fine. It wasn’t the first time he died. Wasn’t the first time he’d been attacked.

It had taken three weeks for Kaz’s hands to stop feeling sticky. Stop feeling warm.

He still wore gloves, to this day, to protect himself from the feeling.

---

The breakdown of the dream was supposed to be as followed:

STEP ONE: Get Kuwei under.

This has been left to Inej. She was the only person Kaz could trust with access to his funds, and the professionalism needed while blackmailing.

She had been given the full length of the job to secure this step, and even with the shortened timeline and her annoyance with that limitation, she had it handled.

"A hostel?" Kaz's brow arched up at her, and Inej ignored his condensation.

"His first stop is in Sweden, but he is going to Amsterdam for a festival with some friends from his university. Four days. Everyone is staying in the same hostel." She dropped a stack of photos and a blueprint of room designs on his desk. "Co-ed rooms, four sets of bunk beds."

"I take it you bought out the room?"

"I bought out the floor." Inej looked down to the watch on her wrist as Kaz looked up to her. When she noticed him staring, Inej shrugged. "It was more efficient. And I was pressed for time."

Kaz felt his lip curl into a grin. "Not bad, Wraith."

Inej rolled her eyes as she turned to the door, leaving Kaz with a quick- “Don’t cut my timeline again, Kaz.” before leaving as silently as she'd entered.

STEP TWO: Convince Kuwei of the world.

The biggest problem with this job was simple: the mark was Kuwei Yul-Bo.

The only son to the first known Chemist. The only son to the man who not only built the dreaming world, but who left an indelible impact on how you dreamed. Before Bo Yul-Bayur, there was no real understanding of how to make the dream stable. Night terrors turned into manufactured nightmares where the chemistry of the brain couldn’t separate what was internal or external. It was chaos. It cost the first few testers their lives, and a lot of people a lot of money.

Enter internationally renowned chemical engineer Bo Yul-Bayur.

Finding sedatives that worked to keep sleeping bodies under but left the minds and imaginations stable enough to create and master the creation of dreams was his first step. The second and third involved his sudden removal from the board after a cross interaction with a couple of heads of state, his mysterious disappearance, and the widespread access to the chemical makeup and equation for his most successful solutions.

Bo Yul-Bayur could be single-handedly credited for creating the dreaming underground. Kaz owed him his life savings, and all the recognition and respect the world kept from him.

However, that also complicated the situation when it came to his son. And this was the only reason that Van Eck would have stooped down to asking for Kaz’s help.

Because sometimes your greatest asset is the fact you’re the only criminal insane enough to agree to the job.

Kuwei was, in every essence of the term, the Son of Dreaming. Which, for Kaz’s purposes, meant that a militarized subconscious was the very least of what they could expect.

Normal jobs, and a good portion of abnormal jobs, would end there - a militarized subconscious not only meant a quick death once you went under, but could - depending on the level of militarization - risk your sanity. It hadn’t been as dangerous in the first few stages of the dreaming underground, but as marks and rich men became more aware, the need for extra levels of protection grew.

That meant this job, Kaz’s job, would have to be out of the box. It would have to be undefined. Beyond abnormal.

“Let me get this straight-” Nina pressed her fingers to her temple, her voice cutting directly into Kaz’s explanation. “You want Kuwei to be the one building, and populating, and creating the dream?”

Kaz felt everyone’s equally concerned eyes turn to him as they waited for his answer. It was raining (it almost always was this time of year in Edinburgh) and Kaz’s leg (as it tended to do) ached. But that was only partially at blame for the sour look to his face. “Isn’t that what I just said, Zenik?”

Jesper leaned to his left towards Wylan and probably thought he was whispering when he explained, “Another word of advice- Kaz doesn’t like to repeat himself. Like. Ever.” He was, of course, loud enough for everyone to hear.

And Nina, as always, was unfazed by the look. “How do you think that’s going to work? We just go in unaware and unprepared into Kuwei Yul-Bo’s mind?”

“Nina-” Inej tried to mediate, but it was Matthias who spoke up.

“I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”

Jesper laughed. “You didn’t sign up for jack shit, Helvar.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, Fahey.”

“Enough.”

The sharp edge of Kaz’s tone was enough to knock Wylan back a bit, the bottles around him clattering at his wince. It was an effective silencing tool, and everyone’s attention returned to Kaz, waiting for whatever explanation he would surely give.

“It will be his dream.” He confirmed. “But it will be our direction. Wylan’s compound-” Wylan blanched once again at the attention, but Kaz kept going. “Is going to open him up to suggestions. The more of us who are under, and who are going under with the same idea, the more Kuwei will accept it.”

“Which means,”  Inej stood, then, the sudden movement jerking them all out of the trance they’d fallen into. “We have to be in agreement when we go under. If any of us question the world, or what we find there, it will invite unrest.”

Wylan swallowed enough for it to echo up in the rafters. “U-unrest?”

“If he is the dreamer and questions the dream, we will end up sitting ducks.” Nina explained, still massaging her temple. “Why is this different from normal? We always go in with an understanding of the dream.”

“It’s more than an understanding. It’s a United Front.” Mattias muttered darkly. “You mean to tell me that you expect this group to be in step? Complete cohesion? You’re insane.”

“Then maybe you should get to work.”

STEP THREE: Work the narrative from the outside, inward.

The plan hinged on Kuwei’s subconscious accepting the dream as his own. But more than that, it hinged on Kuwei’s interest in it. In wanting to see the story play out. If he was distracted by the story, his subconscious would fill the necessary open safes with his secrets, and then it would be up to their work to find the information Van Eck was looking for.

Additionally, if Kuwei fully accepted the storyline, the projections - if given the opportunity - would be ample resource to find out what information it is that Kuwei was hiding.

Which meant that the majority of the dream would be a combination of a narrative to be played out and accepted, as well as an engaging enough setting that would allow complete acceptance of the world and its laws. Part of that involved Wylan’s new drug, and part of it involved the richness of the world itself.

The latest nights they pulled were in going over this aspect - refilled mugs of coffee and Jesper’s restless tapping pulling them through session after session.

And in the end, it was Kaz who broke through the initial hurdle, his eyes held tight to the file that Van Eck had given him as it laid open across his desk.

“Make it a heist.”

Nina and Matthias froze where they had been bickering, exhaustion and their exceedingly unnecessary sexual tension driving almost every disagreement to yelling. But it was Inej who sat up from her spot on the floor, turning to Kaz with a curious eye.

“A heist?”

Kaz nodded, once, and heard Jesper’s fidgeting freeze and felt Wylan’s eyes turn to him too. He tapped his finger on the file, though not for any kind of direction. “Kuwei likes adventure novels. And pirate stories.” It was in the research- Inej was always thorough. “So we make it an adventure. He’s been kidnapped-”

“Because of something he knows.” Nina joined in, picking up on the direction that Kaz was moving in and stepping in to take the seat to his left, leaning over the files on the table. “Something important, world altering, that no one else knows but these people are willing to do whatever it takes to find.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to be the pirate?” Jesper asked, looking from Nina to Kaz and then to Inej. “If he likes those kinds of stories, why would he dream-”

“Because the people you tend to admire in stories aren’t the ones you end up being in real life.” Wylan answered, having left his rustic laboratory in the corner to join them. “Your favorite characters aren’t usually the ones you identify with the most.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. “He’s an academic. Dreaming for a life of adventure, but never quite able to find it outside of books. He needs to be saved by the characters he idolizes.” Kaz paused, waiting to see if anyone would fill in what he was referring to.

“We’re not saving him.” Mattias’ low growl was obstinate, and Nina shot him a quick look. “What?”

“And so we- the heroes- show up and save him from his prison.” Jesper grinned, a kind of alight excitement burning behind his eyes. Kaz knew that look was dangerous- that look had gotten them both into nearly every problem they’d ever run into- but it was contagious.

“You know…” Inej was feeling it too, smiling when she caught Kaz’s eye. “This might just work.”

“Might?” Matthias cut in again. “We’re going to have to do a little better than might.”

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Helvar.” Jesper cut back, even as he was grinning.

“Enough.” But despite it all, Kaz could feel it too. The excitement of a next step, the energy of movement. Progress. He turned to Matthias, expectant. “Now, tell me about this prison.”

STEP FOUR: Find the information required by the job.

Every dreaming job is different - it is why, as an industry, it attracts the more creative criminals. Some extractions are straightforward - bring a mark into a dream, build safes and rooms for the mark to fill, steal the file, get out without it appearing suspicious. In the early years of dreaming, and dream-theft, enough of the population did not know about PASIV devices or dreaming that you could go under without anyone realizing it was happening. But as it grew more popular, and as it grew more widely known and subconscious security became the norm, the art of the theft had to get more creative.

Gone were the days of a simple maze. Gone were the years that personal security was all that was needed to protect your mind. These days, Kaz Brekker got what he wanted by being creative. By thinking outside of the dream, and then the box, and then the space within that.

For this job, it was going to involve the prison. A heist (seeing as Kaz has found that hiding behind the obvious works well in dreams) to break Kuwei out. And buried within that narrative, the information. They would depend on the projections, too. They were looking for an actively hidden amount of information, information that would have gotten Kuwei taken - if the narrative is to be believed. They would find out from the projections that Kuwei would supply what the information is that they’re down there to take, find said information, and break Kuwei out.

Kaz, in deciding to join the active crew members and go under, would be tasked with the information itself. The story did not need him, though he would play whatever part would make the most sense and would create the least amount of resistance. But he was not necessary, and would instead spend his time doing what he has always done best.

Breaking into safes- or in this case, cells.

STEP FIVE: Play out the remaining dream-time without a kick.

This is where things got a little more complicated. They were only going under one level, which left them vulnerable to Kuwei, if he had any training at all, to notice the constructed nature. And since they were only going under one level, and to uphold the authenticity of the dream, they would not induce a kick.

It would keep them under for much longer than they were used to. It would force them to play out the roles with Kuwei’s presence. Whatever happened to the narrative of the dream would have to be upheld for days, maybe weeks, after the actual event.

This is where their flair for the dramatics would come in handy.

STEP SIX: Leave undetected.

If everything went as it was supposed to, the compound would leave Kuwei’s system with enough processing time that it would feel like an intense dream, and nothing more.

They would leave their rooms at errant intervals that worked with their stories, and they would all cover their own returns to Edinburgh. They would reconvene at the warehouse in one week’s time to receive payment and their exit meeting, and from there, would be on their way.

Another job completed. Another payment received.

---

The last time Jordie closed his eyes, Kaz had been mad at him. He remembers that much.

It had been about something stupid - one of the directors of the project, man by the name of Pekka Rollins had offered the brothers the chance to take part in testing a new compound. They would be the first humans it had been used on. There were dangers, there were always dangers, but Rollins promised years taken from their sentence and Jordie’s attention had been caught.

Kaz didn’t like the idea. Something about the man’s off-putting grin and well to do nature did not sit well with him. He tried to mention it to Jordie, that his gut didn’t trust the way Pekka Rollins had looked at them, but Jordie had snapped back.

We don’t really have a choice, do we? I don’t want to spend my life in jail, and time is running out.

Jordie had a point, which Kaz knew. Because of the way the tasks had worked, Kaz and Jordie had only taken one, maybe two years off their combined sentence. Jordie had less than a year before he hit eighteen and would be moved to the adult prison. As the days went by, Kaz wanted Jordie get more and more worried about the counter. The dwindling numbers of days he had left.

But I don’t trust him, Kaz had pleaded. Not this time. Please. We’ll make it up somewhere else-

Doesn’t matter if you trust him. We just have to get the target and get out.

Jordie, I don’t-

It’s not up to you, Kaz. I already agreed.

And the dream, at first, had seemed normal enough. Dark streets of an old city. There were canals that wove through the tall buildings, and the air was putrid. Damp. Kaz and Jordie had taken off, into the city and into the lives they would need to complete the task.

Then there was the plague.

It wasn’t abnormal, facing disasters and catastrophes in dreams. The program wanted to test the limits of creation, and men - more often than not - gravitated towards the weight of death. Hurricanes, tornadoes, mass shootings, holocausts. But this was Kaz’s first plague, and with the setting, it was cataclysmic.

Kaz had gotten sick. And so had Jordie. They weren’t even aware that they could- but it felt as real as anything Kaz had ever experienced while awake.

He’d passed out, at some point. And Jordie alongside with him. When his eyes opened, it was on a barge - a barge of bodies. Dead bodies. Projections.

Except that wasn’t the whole truth, was it? Because amongst them, Kaz had found Jordie. Bloated, pale, cold. Kaz was still feverish - had to be - because he remembers screaming for hours. Hours.

Wake up!

Jordie did not. Not then, and not when Kaz finally woke back up topside, either. They had to sedate Kaz a second time just to get him out of the room, and the image is burned into the back of his eyelids every time he closes them.

Pekka Rollins, thoughtful and curious, standing over Jordie’s unresponsive body.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

---

The plan, at first, went as it had supposed to.

The Ice Court was near-flawless. Their jobs as convicts breaking in was set. Every projection they met fulfilled their roles and reinforced the status quo. They were here for the plot, all of them pawns to a greater need.

Kuwei was inside. Kuwei was part of the dream. Kuwei had taken the bait.

When Kaz opened his eyes in the truck full of bodies, he nearly lost consciousness a second time. Whether it was the detail the other members had placed in their set-up, or his own anxieties poking holes into the plan, it had almost ruined everything.

Almost. But not quite. Inej had grabbed his arm and held him up upright and Kaz pulled himself back together again.

After that, things fell into place. They each knew their roles, where they were supposed to land and where they were supposed to be. Kuwei, picking up on the threads of the story that their subconscious fed him, played along. He would be inside an inner cell, waiting to be executed or tested on or whatever it was that he would assume would be worse, and the rest of the team would arrive to save him. Six people, six heroes, six parts of the reward. The projections agreed, leaving notes on why Kuwei was held, what was happening, what they would need to find.

Except that things - as they did - started to go wrong.

A woman from Inej’s past arrived at the grand party. She was not supposed to be part of the attendees, but there she was, in all her peacock feathers and dangerous sneer. The old Commander from Nina’s time in the military whisked her away into the cells for a grand tour, and Nina had followed. Matthias had been the Architect, which meant that the most of his subconscious would color the setting itself, but even he couldn’t be prepared for the weight it would be on him. He followed after Nina, panicked she was lost to the dream too.

Wylan was a nervous wreck of a boy - doing his best to keep up but doing the most to attract attention to himself. Jesper did his part to keep Wylan from dying before the mission even began, but Kaz knew better than to assume that would keep up.

Kaz, after the initial run in with the truck of other prisoners, was able to hold it together. They made it into the cells, they made it out of those cells. And then they were running - Kaz had a safe to find, if there was one. Kaz had the information to gather. Kad had his job, before all else.

And then there was Pekka Rollins.

Kaz was not prepared. Not prepared for him. They’d gone under in training and Kaz had been able to hold his armor together for that, but this. This was different. This was heavier. Kaz was supposed to be working. He was supposed to meet Inej down by the boiler room. But they were on the stairs, the clock ticking down, when the feeling settled in his gut.

When Kaz turned, it was Jordie’s face that was waiting for him. Sickly pale, ghost-like, bloated, but solid. He watched Kaz from a floor that was not originally in the layout, a line of cells that was not supposed to exist, and then he turned around. Started to walk away.

Kaz knew that this was the drug. Knew that this had nothing to do with the plan, and would ruin everything if he took too much time. But Jordie glanced back to him, color suddenly returning, and grinned.

You’re not going to let him go, are you baby brother?

Bells. There were bells ringing. That was his cue. But Kaz took a step forward, because Jordie was there. For once, for real, he was just thirty feet down that hall. Was stepping through a door. Kaz had spent his life learning how to get through doors - whether locked or otherwise - and he would not let this one get in the way.

Jordie disappeared, and Kaz could hear Pekka Rollins’ echo of a laugh. Strong. Settled. Comfortable.

For a brief moment, all Kaz could see was Pekka standing over Jordie’s body back in the testing room. A disappointed shake of his head as he turned away. The panic in Kaz’s chest because Jordie was supposed to be waking up, Jordie is supposed to be waking up. It’s a dream. It was all a dream. Everything that happened, everything that Kaz had done, it hadn’t been real. Then there was the feeling of large, strong hands under his armpits. Dragging him away. Someone pulled a sheet over Jordie’s body.

The bells continued, and if Kaz had been paying attention, he’d know that this was the exact moment that Inej would be climbing. That Jesper and Wylan would be waiting, anxiously, at the bottom of the shaft. Nina and Mattias would be gathering Kuwei. Would be bringing him along. Kuwei, fully entrapped in the narrative, would follow. He’d understand. He’d be a part of the story.

Kaz was supposed to be joining them down in the boiler room. He was supposed to be taking the shaft up, and out. They are so close. So very, very close.

But then the door is gone. A gunshot echoed from somewhere down the hall. Jordie’s laugh, and then silence.

It’s not up to you, Kaz.

Kaz ran after it.

---

The very few times that Kaz dreams, unencumbered and undirected by any device, it always starts off the same. A quiet field, a low breeze, and grass up to his knees. He can smell hay, and pollen, and somewhere far off, livestock. The sound of the field is all around him - buzzing and fluttering and moving. Alive. Everything is alive, and it is warm.

And then Jordie is there. Somewhere. Off in the distance or hiding beyond the ridge. Kaz is never quite sure when Jordie got so good at hiding, that was Kaz’s talent, but he’s always just out of sight.

Kaz calls out - “Jordie?” - and runs after him.

Then it all changes. In the blink of an eye, the grass at his legs are limbs, the wind pulling at his face are fingers. The smell of death, and rot, and dark decay envelop him. Jordie’s voice echos off in the distance, calling out for him but hauntingly distant, and Kaz always comes to a stop.

In his hand is a card, blinding white against the background of death, and a single crow on its face.

Kaz recognizes his totem, recognizes that he is the only one who knows it, and Jordie’s voice gets louder. Louder, and louder, and louder, until the two words ricochet like bullets in Kaz's skull.

Wake up.

But Kaz can’t. Not this time.

---

What do you mean he didn’t wake up?

He’s not waking up, Inej. Try for yourself. I don’t-

Wylan, what’s happening?

It’s the drug. His subconscious clung too heavily to the stimuli. It’s-

What does that even mean?! Why isn’t he waking up?

Don’t yell at Wylan!

I-I- It’s like he has sleep paralysis. His subconscious thinks he woke up, but it believes what we gave it. He believes what he all saw down there is real.

You mean he’s still in the dream?

How can he still be in the dream? Matthias is up. Shouldn’t it have fallen apart?

Yes. It should have. Unless he memorized the maps himself. His subconscious could have clung to what I showed all of you…

But the dream is over. The drug should have worn off.

Unless he fell deeper.

He’s in limbo…

No! God damn it Brekker, of all times?

What are we going to do?

We have to go back in there.

What?! Are you insane? Into his subconscious?

It should mirror the same world we built for the dream. Same stories, same rules. It’ll just be what his subconscious built of it.

Oh, great. So not only are we going into his limbo, but we’re going into his version of the fucked up dream we built for Kuwei? You have to be kidding me.

You all don’t need to go, I can do it.

Are you serious, Inej? No way. You’re not going alone.

He’ll need us all. Without the complete picture, he’ll know something is wrong.

We should go down now. Before he’s locked in there for a lifetime.

I need more time. I need to make sure they know we finished the Kuwei job. They’ll be waiting for an answer…

Then we’ll go down first. Inej, you can join after. Okay? It’s only two levels deep, right? So it shouldn’t be too sped up.

Okay. I guess we’re doing this.

The demon should be paying us a lot more than just-

Matthias, not the time!

Okay. Everyone get back to your device. We’ll sync up and go back. We’re all prepped for this world anyway, right? On my count. Three, two, one--

---

Kaz opens his eyes, blinking twice to shed the heaviness.

It’s dark, and there is a weighted, warm sort of moisture clinging to the air around him. It makes his leg ache.

He sits up, slow and cautious, with one thing on his mind. It’s a familiar thing, something he is comfortable with holding, comfortable with carrying and knowing and understanding. It’s something he’s lived with his entire life, and something he will most likely continue to live with, however long that may be.

It is sweet, in the back of his throat.

Van Eck will pay for this.

Revenge, as it were, was the greatest form of motivation. And Ketterdam knows it well.

[nicolasnelson]

Sizzie fic - Trust These Caring Hands [oneshot]

Title: Trust These Caring Hands Relationship: Lizzie Saltzman/Sebastian Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Lizzie’s POV Words: 1,652

Summary: After Lizzie is injured fighting a monster, Sebastian tends to her wounds and tries to convince her that he really does care about her.

Requested by anon // Prompt: Sizzie oneshot on Lizzie getting hurt by a monster and Sebastian taking care of her.

[AO3 LINK]

The first thing Lizzie became aware of was the fact that Sebastian was carrying her through the woods like some great hero of old. She didn’t remember much about the battle with the monster, only that she was dizzy with pain.

Sebastian walked up the steps of an abandoned cottage. At least she hoped it was abandoned. He set Lizzie gently down on the bed inside.

“Go ahead and make fun of me. I got injured in a fight doing something stupid. Like an idiot. Or a turnip as you would say.”

“I would never make fun of you for getting hurt,” Sebastian said, sincerity in his gaze. “I am concerned for your wellbeing. Believe it or not, Elizabeth, I do care about you.”

Lizzie’s heart swelled. It would be only too easy to believe him, but she couldn’t trust him yet. Her heart was too fragile to give to another right now.

"So you're not going to gloat about how you showed up like some knight in shining armor and rushed me out of there?"

Sebastian chuckled, looking proud of himself. “I might gloat a little. Only because I like being the hero for once.”

“Ha, ha.” Lizzie gave a dramatic fake laugh, but pain shot through her. Her stomach hurt where the monster had slashed her. She clenched her teeth together to stop herself from screaming.

Sebastian was quick to kneel by her side. “May I?” he asked, hands hovering over the edge of her shirt.

Lizzie nodded, biting back the pain.

He rolled her shirt up to observe the gash across her stomach. Sebastian’s touch was gentle, methodical. “I shall need to clean it if you are to avoid the fever. Give me a moment to gather some supplies.”

Lizzie gripped the linen sheets of the dusty bed. She closed her eyes to try to soothe her pounding headache but to no avail. She opened an eye to watch Sebastian standing by the fireplace.

He had a cauldron hanging above the roaring fire and tore off strips from the end of his shirt to soak in the bubbling liquid.

When he returned to her, he rubbed off as much of the blood off her stomach as he could. Lizzie suddenly realized a vampire was tending to her while she was bleeding. “Are you okay? You’re not going to bite me, are you?”

Sebastian’s jaw went tense, and his eyes flicked up to her. “Not if I can help it,” he muttered, then returned to his work.

He pulled out a bottle of whisky and poured it over the wound. It hurt like a bitch, and Lizzie cried out in pain.

“Is that really necessary?” she demanded.

“To avoid inflammation and the fever, yes, very much so.”

Lizzie groaned, gripping the edge of the bed, and stared at the slanted wooden planks of the ceiling. It was just her luck to have Sebastian caring for her with the outdated techniques of the middle ages. She hoped he wasn’t just making things worse.

It wasn’t like she could get anyone else to help her anyways. They were out in the middle of nowhere. Hope and Josie were busy fighting the monster that had injured her. They weren’t in any shape to help Lizzie. She would just have to deal with Sebastian and hope for the best.

“Hold still,” Sebastian warned.

He picked up one of the black rags he’d made from his shirt and wrapped it around her stomach. It was warm to the touch and wet from the liquid in the pot. Lizzie caught a strong whiff of garlic and the clean scent of witch hazel. His movements were slow and careful, not at all what she would expect from a vampire.

He smiled at her when he caught her staring. “Living in the colony of Roanoke, it was practically a requirement to learn how to care for injuries. The natives did not take kindly to our presence there.”

“Did you treat a lot of people in your day?”

“Before I was turned, yes. After, well, the injured became an unexpected feast. I didn’t gain my reputation of being insatiable for nothing, Elizabeth.” The look in his eyes was alluring.

Lizzie felt herself leaning towards him. “Tell me more about Roanoke.” She wanted to learn more about Sebastian, and listening to him talk helped get her mind off the pain.

Sebastian told her about John White, the man who had founded the colony where Sebastian lived. And his granddaughter, Virginia Dare, the first English child born in America. He told her about his past love Cassandra and all that she had done for him, how she’d died after saving his life.

“You must miss her terribly.”

Sebastian nodded. “One would think that in five hundred years, the pain would become easier to bear, but it has not. At least not until recently.” He’d finished wrapping the bandage and ran his gentle fingers along Lizzie’s stomach. “You make my life better, Elizabeth. That’s why I have no intention of feeding on you. A taste might make me abandon reason, and I can’t lose the only person keeping me sane.”

Lizzie propped herself up on her elbows. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that. I’m just someone you enjoy having sex with.”

“Ah, yes, the copulation is quite pleasurable, but it is more than that, Elizabeth. And I think you know that. You felt the connection when we first met. It’s why you searched for me with your magic, why you told the whole school you were dating me before I’d had the chance to tell you I was invisible to everyone else. It is why we are in this arrangement of copulation and playful banter. One day you will want more from me, and I will be completely willing to give you all of me.”

Lizzie’s breath caught. He always knew how to say exactly what she wanted to hear. It was why she couldn’t trust him, even though she felt the words form in her mind. The acceptance, the joy. The complete giving in to this romance. But she held her tongue and rolled her eyes instead. “You, Sebastian, are too creative with your imagination.”

Sebastian gave her a sad smile. “Forgive me. I did not mean to get carried away.” He stood up abruptly. “You must be hungry. I’ll prepare a meal for you. Why don’t you get some rest?”

Lizzie sighed once he was out of the cabin. It was hard to think clearly with all his pretty words. She let her thoughts drift to the monster. To Hope and Josie. If Josie was seriously injured, Lizzie was certain she would feel it. She wondered if Josie had felt her pain. Were they worried about her?

Sleep was quick to pry Lizzie from her thoughts.

She awoke to the smell of cooked meat and herbs. Sebastian was walking towards her with a bowl in his hand.

“Good evening, Elizabeth.”

She sat up carefully and leaned her back against the wooden wall. “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the bowl warily.

“Rabbit stew. I made it myself.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose. Rabbit did not sound appetizing in the least.

“Please eat it, Elizabeth. It will help restore your strength.”

He held it out to her, and Lizzie took it reluctantly. She made a face as she put the bowl to her lips. Tilting it back, she tasted the seasoned broth. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but it was no chef’s special.

Sebastian sat on a stool beside the bed and waited until she had finished the soup. She slammed the bowl down onto the bedside table, lifting an eyebrow. “Happy?”

“Delighted.” Sebastian grinned.

There was something about him that was just so charming. Lizzie was touched by how he’d cared for her and even gone through the trouble to make a meal. Even if it was made of rabbit. He showed that he truly cared for her, and she believed his actions far more than his sugar-coated words.

Lizzie leaned back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow. “You know, it’s very cold in here. These walls are so thin, and this blanket is like paper.”

“I could heat up coals in the bed warmer.” Sebastian gestured to a long stick with a worn metal pan on the end of it propped against the wall.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, huffing out a laugh. “That isn’t really what I had in mind.” She pushed the sheets down until she could expose her bare leg from underneath her skirt. “I’d much prefer you to be my bed warmer.”

Sebastian’s mouth slid into a smirk. He looked like he wanted to, but he shook his head. “Now is not the time for copulation. I would not like to risk reopening the wound with exertion. You need to rest and recover first. Then, my dear, I promise we shall copulate to our hearts’ content.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” Lizzie patted the bed. “Could you at least join me? We don’t have to do anything.”

“I’d like that very much.” Sebastian slid under the covers next to her and wrapped an arm around her. He kissed her forehead, so soft and gentle.

Lizzie tilted her head up, and they locked lips. A slow, tender kiss, which filled Lizzie with warmth and love. She leaned her head against Sebastian’s chest and interlaced their fingers together.

Sebastian was right. She needed to focus on healing, and then they could find Hope and Josie. Lizzie wasn’t sure how she knew they were okay, but she did.

She felt safe in Sebastian’s arms, even if it was only a temporary reprieve from the battle. They cuddled for the rest of the night, and Lizzie fell asleep on his chest, allowing herself just this once to dream of an epic romance with Sebastian.