#I promise I’ll clean up the Master Post sometime tonight

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[admiral-alby]

bob fic recs galore

here’s the fruits of my labour. a working fic rec master-post containing multiple bob ships and many, many amazing fics. the writers in this fandom are absolutely incredible and their talent astounds me every time I read a new fic. all the kudos to y’all. keep on keeping on!

this is a long post. recs and some general notes are under the cut :)

(04/13/21) I’ll do my best to keep this list updated... or I’ll make a part 2 depending on length. if anyone has any recs that are not already listed in this post, please please message me! this is no way an exhaustive list and I’m sure I missed some fantastic fics out there - to get started I mostly just plucked from my bookmarks. I’d be happy to add on new fics for ANY pairing, rare-pairs included. I don’t really have much for rare-pairs in this rec because I haven’t read much yet but that will change soon when I have some more time on my hands to get into them  :)

if you are an author on this list and you would like your work removed from it, please just message me. no explanation necessary I will take it off asap.

I’ll make the disclaimer that while I tried to include some general information about each fic, I did not include tags/warnings. so if you choose a fic, read the tags and proceed at your own discretion.

 @capsparkyspeirs   you’re a lovely human being and this is probably not what you were imagining when I said I’d be happy to rec some fics for you. I admit it got a little out of hand but there’s so many great fics out there I couldn’t stand to choose just a couple to send your way... so you get them all! you inspired me to do this, so this is for you and anyone else who wants to read some great fics but doesn’t know where to start <3

WINNIX (RICHARD WINTERS/LEWIS NIXON)

Long Ago and Far Away (Canon Winnix) by churchkey (Series) Rated T-E / Canon Era / 18013 Words (Total) / 4 Parts / Not Complete

Summary: “A few scenes exploring how Dick and Lew became the timeless cosmic lovers they were born to be.“

*Each part can be read as a stand-alone!

It Happened One Night by raquelelpillo Rated M / Groundhog Day AU / 7704 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Nixon gets the chance to do the day before the big jump over and over and over (or, Every Fandom Needs Groundhog's Day Fic).”

Finding Our Way in the Dark by rilla Rated E / Canon Era / Soulmate AU / 8477 Words / Complete

Summary: “After Dick and Lew share their first kiss in Austria, they open their eyes to find a golden thread binding their wrists together.“

Mutual by miss_grey Rated G / Canon Era / 2105 Words / Complete

Summary: “Dick couldn’t help wondering to himself when exactly Nix had decided that Dick’s personal space had become their mutual space.“

Let Me Be Close by armyofbees  Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 8679 Words / Complete

Summary: “Five things Nix loves about Dick, and one thing Dick loves about Nix.Or,The thing about Nix, Dick is beginning to learn, is that he doesn’t love in halves. Nix loves with everything in him, and sometimes that means moving to the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania for Dick. Sometimes it means making spaghetti with him because Dick came to New Jersey and planted tomatoes, of all things. Sometimes it means telling without saying.”

Let’s Start the New Year Right by slightlytookish Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 10523 Words / Complete

Summary: “Nix had always been able to pick Dick out of a crowd, even when he was lying on his belly in the dirt two hundred yards away, squinting through binoculars at an entire company of men wearing identical uniforms. It was easier to spot him in the crush of people inside Penn Station, even out of the familiar uniform: the same tall figure, the same bright hair, the same way he always seemed to find Nix just as easily and turn towards him, like an arrow on a compass.”

Lancaster County by raquelelpillo Rated T / AU / 31500 Words / 17 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Nix is born later. Dick is there. (AU). Set in the summer of 1942 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

**It is part of a series with the other works being small ‘extras’ set through the story. This is the main work. It ends a bit ambiguously.

SPEIRTON (RONALD SPEIRS/CARWOOD LIPTON)

The Desolate House by Howling_Harpy Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 26672 Words / Complete

Summary: “It's been fifteen years since Carwood has last seen or spoken to Speirs when they reunite suddenly at an Easy Company reunion and have both recently relocated back to the US. Carwood has promised to his mother to finish packing and cleaning the family's boarding house that's about to be put up for sale, and on a whim invites Speirs to help him. He didn't expect him to actually show up.”

and you on my mind by seabright Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 11081 Words / Complete

Summary: “’You say that you don’t want any of Easy to know that you’re in Boston but you give me your address.’  Following a relationship through the end of the war and beyond.”

Of Soldiers and Secrets by nanuk_dain Rated E / Canon Era / 62988 Words / 26 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “A series of moments in the life of the Easy men, from Foy until after the war, focussing on the development of the relationship of Carwood Lipton and Ronald Speirs.”

Erasure by Howling_Harpy Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 15255 Words / Complete

Summary: “Carwood takes time off from work to visit his mother to get away from his lonely life in Boston. Ron is deployed to Korea and has been for a long while, and after spending a year alone and even longer lying to everyone, Carwood is not sure he wants to live like this anymore.”

Fluences by masongirl (Series) Rated T-M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 12818 Words (Total) / 5 Works / Complete

Summary: “ Soulmate AU in which soulmates can sense each other's emotions if they are close enough.”

**Mainly Speirton centric. Part 2 is Winnix & Part 3 is Shifty/Tab.

A Thousand Kisses by Arwen88 Rated T / Canon Era / 1993 Words / Complete

Summary: “ A late night in Hardigny brings Carwood to the room where Ron is dealing with paperwork, but even with a comfortable bed, he can’t find his peace. Late night chats have Ron showing a side of himself that Carwood had not expected.”

stop the world by languageofthebirds Rated T / Canon Era / 3001 Words / Complete

Summary: “The way his hair fell in mussed waves over his forehead made Carwood want to reach out and run his fingers through it. He was sin personified, in that moment.”

**Did I throw in a shameless self promo? Sure did.

WEBGOTT (JOSEPH LIEBGOTT/DAVID WEBSTER)

rivers always reach the sea by bitchbutter (Series) Rated E / Canon Era / 40790 Words (Total) / 2 Works / Not Complete / Last Updated March 17, 2021

Part 1 Summary: “Joe breaks things off with Web in Austria. Of course, nothing with them is ever that simple.“

Part 2 Summary: “The end of the war could be the end of a lot of things. If Joe could let it be.“

if i know you at all, i know you’ve gone too far by starblessed Rated T / Canon Era / 2654 Words / Complete

Summary: “How many stars d’you think there are, Web?” Joe asks after a moment.David has no damned clue. “A lot,” he answers confidently. “Millions.”“Millions,” echoes Joe. The glittering stars are reflected in his eyes, like black pits sending each beam of light back outward. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way they flicker. If he stares too long, David knows he will get lost in them...  and that doesn't seem like the worst way to go.”

Teller of Tales; Song of Songs by thedastardly Rated E / Canon Era (Post War) / 8352 Words / Complete

Summary: “He hopes that he dreams about the mountaintop tonight. He isn’t in the mood to dream of the water, the shore, the everything after, again.”

the only noise beating out is ours by lakehymn Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 3470 Words / Complete

Summary: “Over the next couple weeks, Webster realizes that Liebgott has effortlessly invaded every corner of his life. Even on the days when he barely sees Liebgott at all, he can always find comic books or packs of cigarettes lying around somewhere. It’s almost disconcerting how ordinary it’s beginning to feel to stumble upon someone else’s belongings in his own house.”

push and pull by LT_Aldo_Raine

Rated T / Modern AU / 4115 Words / Complete

Summary: ““got hands like an ocean, push you out, pull you back in” And David Webster never could resist the ocean. OR: Webster snorted, a sardonic sound that echoed across the hotel room. “You don’t know the first thing about what I need.””

hang in there, baby by rilla Rated M / Modern AU / 3116 Words / Complete

Summary: “Written for the Kisstober prompt 'upside down Spiderman kisses'. '“I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked you what your top fantasy is,” Web says, “but it wasn’t this."'”

In His Wildest Dreams by Impala_Chick Rated E / Canon Era / Dream Sharing AU / 3891 Words / Complete

Summary: “While David is in the hospital, he starts sharing dreams with Liebgott.“

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines by thelastfig Rated E / Canon Era & Post War / 10185 Words / Complete

Summary: “It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs. In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.”

LUZTOYE (GEORGE LUZ/JOSEPH TOYE)

The best laid plans by masongirl (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 52652 Words (Total) / 15 Parts / Complete

Summary: “Modern AU in which Joe and George find each other as college students and build a life together.“

each and every day (of the year) by bruce_the_shark Rated M / Modern AU / 21630 Words / 2 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Joe grins, lifts his hand from George’s hip to grip him by the chin, twists his face around to catch his lips in a bruising kiss. George relishes in it, likes how the taste of Joe’s preferred brand of liquor mixes with the taste of his own on his tongue. He grins against Joe’s lips, knows it’s going to be a good year.”

Babysitting and Other Rationales by aces_low Rated T / Modern AU / 3267 Words / Complete

Summary: “George Luz is a god damn saint, or at least some kind of kid whisperer. And Joe's just trying to keep his head on straight.”

who let the dogs in? by starblessed Rated T / Modern AU / 1869 Words / Complete

Summary: ““And he heard me shouting and I guess it inspired him or something, cause he full-on charged at me, Joe, and before I could even slam the door, he was just —“ George cuts off with an incoherent noise, gesturing grandly to their front door. “In! And then he was running, and sniffing everything, and exploring our shit, and he peed —““Not on my damn couch,” Joe growls.“No, on the nice carpet. Marking his territory, y’know? Except it’s our territory, but I guess it’s his now, because he won’t freakin’ leave.”

BABEROE (EDWARD HEFFRON/EUGENE ROE)

Call me sweetheart, please? by mariamegale (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 95865 Words (Total) / 12 Works / Complete

Summary: “A not-relationship in the making.”

**Each part could be read as a standalone I suppose... But it’s so worth it to read the whole series!

between the walls by CountlessStars Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 2275 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Eugene decides to paint his living room. It should be easy, it really should, but it doesn't go as planned (in more ways than one).”

Walking Wounded by papersky_pencilstars Rated G / Canon Era / Magic AU / 3501 Words / Complete

Summary: “Prompt: Canon-era; Either Gene or Babe have magic, or both. Maybe magic is known or maybe they need to hide it.”

JOHNNY MARTIN/BULL RANDLEMAN

they don’t know about the up all nights (they don’t know I’ve waited all my life) by PotofCoffee Rated T / Canon Era / 22010 Words / 3 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny and Bull throughout the war, in a slow meandering dance you might just call love.”

All My Love to Give by Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 8852 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny wants to screw around to pass the time. Bull wants to show Johnny how he feels without having to risk saying it”

The Red String by Arwen88 Rated M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 1834 Words / Complete

Summary: “He had to wrench his gaze away from the sickening sight, from the machine that was probably moments away from killing his soulmate. He would’ve thrown himself under that tank if that meant saving his lover, but he couldn’t do it. He had to take care of his men, and so he forced himself to stop looking, to order his men to retreat, to see that they did what he was screaming at them.“

Over Where You Began Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 2949 Words / Complete

Summary: “ The way Bull saw it, Johnny was mad at him now, and Bull had no idea what he'd done wrong. Maybe it was better to just let it lie, let Johnny come out of whatever angry mood he was in on his own, instead of kicking an ant's nest.”

Simple as a Glass of Chocolate by ThrillingDetectiveTales Rated E / Canon Era / 2600 Words / Complete

Summary: ““It was supposed to be syrup,” Johnny muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.(In which Johnny and Bull try to sweeten up their sex life and it doesn't go exactly as planned.)”

CHUCK GRANT/RONALD SPEIRS

to Babel, in ruins by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era (Post-War) / 5114 Words / Complete

Summary: “Chuck knows recovery isn't a linear event. Knows there are times when words will leave him and the night will place him back beneath the dirt. Knows there are things he just can't speak about.Captain Speirs hears him anyway.”

pulse by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era  / 4706 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Ron Speirs knows how to kill. Knows how to hurt, how to twist, how to maim. He doesn't think he's figured out how to love, not really, not where it counts the most, but the touches he reserves for Chuck Grant beg to differ.. “

AUTHORS

there are so many authors on this list that have written tons of amazing works for one or multiple pairings. as much as I would have loved to, I couldn’t rec all of their works... I had a hard enough time keeping it down to 3 or less works from the same author! similar to fics, I’ve only linked authors that I am familiar with/know have written multiple fics, so feel free to send me more people to add to the list :)

churchkey - is a sweetheart. has multiple amazing winnix works. she has recently gotten into super rarepair toye/malarkey. godspeed I’ll see you there when I read those fics.

ThrillingDetectiveTales - writes for multiple pairings. all of their works are fantastic! every time I see their name as the author I go !! and know it’s going to be good.

Howling_Harpy - has written so many fics. many different pairings. lots of speirton. they’ve ripped my heart out and made me cry but then gently kissed my forehead and put my heart back. I think that’s praise of the highest order.

masongirl - another fantastic author who has written so many amazing fics. tons of speirton and other ships too. also has made me cry and then quietly wiped my tears away.

mariamegale - baberoe queen. that’s all I have to say. I was tempted to just rec all her baberoe fics. check them out!

Muccamukk - another multi ship, multi works writer. i had a hard time only choosing a few of their fics to rec. they’ve got so much to offer!

Impala_Chick - writes lots of great webgott and other pairings too!

captainkilly - if i could rec all her fics I would. there’s some rarepair pieces that are fantastic. I didn’t list it here because it’s more of a character centric piece with an OFC and a little bit of ron/chuck dashed in mostly at the end, but read her form & void series. seriously. read it. I have nothing else to say because her work speaks for itself.

Arwen88 - another writer for multiple pairings with multiple works! love to see it. some great rarepair stuff and also fantastic popular pairings.

LT_Aldo_Raine - love their work! they write for multiple pairings.

[guqin-and-flute]

Are You Here to Stop Me?--Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[I had the hardest time shaking this man and making plot fall out, he was wholly uncooperative.]

This was all such fucking disaster.

A-jie was sick, the Jiang were once again yanked into a political fiasco that they had to pay for with their own reputation, there was a fierce corpse puppet in his home--a home that, apparently, had already been invaded by the Jin Clan demanding answers to said political fiasco while its master wasn’t even there. In a few days time, it would be invaded again by strange Wens he didn’t know or want.

If his mother were alive, she would kill him. He would probably deserve it. He didn’t know what his father would think. He would probably be disappointed--either that he didn’t think of it in the first place or for his resentment.

He stood frozen by the door, anxiously watching Wen Qing treat a barely conscious A-jie. It wasn't like he had never seen his sister feverish and weak before, but it scared him the same every single time. To know that she was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. To know that this could be the illness that would take her from him. That this could be the last time that….He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and folded his arms tight across his chest to keep them from fidgeting at his sides.

Jin Guangyao seemed to think everything was under control--at least, that’s what he had said. It would have been far more comforting if it hadn’t been in such a distant voice while being unable to look away from A-jie. Clutching her hand in a white knuckled grip. Expression all strained and pale with badly concealed terror.

This is your plan! Jiang Cheng wanted to scream as he clenched his aching fists. I did this because you said it would work! You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing!

What he wouldn’t give to actually know what the hell he was doing. Being an adult couldn’t just be this, right? Just guessing and grasping around in the dark, tripping like you’re wearing your father’s too big robes? Every other person he met seemed to be controlled and mature, while he was barely treading water--hell, even Wei Wuxian did the things he did with confidence. It had to get better at some point, because, right now, this mess was embarrassing--enraging. But most of all, it was terrifying.

What the hell should he do? What was right?

A-jie kept breathlessly trying to tell them all that she was alright, that they should rest and continue preparing. But she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled around like a floppy doll. Every once in a while, she was wracked with violent, hacking coughs that shook her and left her gasping.

When she whispered Jiang Cheng’s name and raised a trembling hand as Wen Qing stepped away to prepare something, he practically dove to her side, his knees slamming painfully into the floor in his haste. Clasping her hand in both of his, he found it freezing, so he chafed it gently between his palms. “A-jie?”

“You...must be...so tired.” She smiled weakly, eyes slurring to the Wen child who had fallen asleep on the other pillow, leaving grubby little smudges all over the bedding. “All of you. I’m fine. Go. Sleep.” Even this short speech left her breathless, then coughing, wet and harsh. She trembled as Jin Guangyao helped her sit up and held her close, stroking her back.

Jiang Cheng hated everything about this. He was going to kill Wei Wuxian.

She wasn’t wrong, though. His limbs felt like practice weights, his overworked core throbbed like a pulled muscle within him. (His core? Wei Wuxian’s core? The core? This reminder burrowed in him like a barbed arrow every time he remembered again, further and further since the night he had learned it. Regret and anger and nausea, swimming and hot, every day, every fucking day. A stranger inside himself, but not. Another thing he was helpless to.)

When A-Jie finally dropped into unconsciousness not long after, Wen Qing announced that under no circumstances should she be allowed to exert herself for the next few days, until she could sit up on her own and breathe without wheezing. “The fluid in her lungs has worsened,” she told the two of them, voice still hoarse. “But since I have access to the supplies here, her fever should hopefully break sometime tonight. She shouldn’t be in any immediate danger but she will have to take her medicine on a strict schedule.”

“She will,” Jin Guangyao agreed immediately, thumb smoothing repeatedly over the back of A-jie’s limp hand. “Just tell me when and I’ll do it.”

When Jiang Cheng finally stood to leave, just about every muscle from the base of his skull to the tendons at his heels screamed and gods, he wanted a bath and sleep and for this to not be happening. Wen Qing collected the still sleeping boy, and Jin Guangyao rose, seeing them all out into the hall before bowing, sharp and deep. “Thank you, Wen-guniang.”

Damn. Jiang Cheng hastily followed suit and bowed. You tactless asshole. She watched them both with weary eyes, expression as closed as it had been for days, but she inclined her head to accept. “Come get me immediately if anything changes.”

Straightening, Jin Guangyao nodded, his habitual smile nowhere to be seen, drained and serious. “I will. I’m going to stay up to watch her.”

Her eyes narrowed warily. But she only nodded.

The entire trip leading her through Lotus Pier to her prepared room was silent.

Jiang Cheng knew he should say something. He wanted to say something--to thank her more personally for A-jie’s care or tell her that she would be safe here, that when he made a promise, he kept it (unlike some people.) Maybe reassure her that this wasn’t a ploy by him to corner her, that this was honestly a waking nightmare he kept wishing he would wake up from.

That this wasn’t how he had imagined marrying her. As a last resort. As a trap.

Instead, he was silent. Nothing he had to say would come out right and he would either sound like an ass or an idiot. Or both.

She was just as quiet, anyway, drifting behind him like some sort of mourning wraith, carrying the limp child. The only sounds were their footsteps, distant murmurs, and the frogs droning from their intermittent little ponds and from the lake beyond. Chill from the young evening settled into their still damp, days old clothes. The clean, living scent of the water was comforting, so at least there was that.

He wondered if it just smelled like mud to her.

When they came to the room, he saw that the lanterns and the incense burner were already lit, and a while ago, judging by how thickly the scent of jasmine and musk lay over everything. It was one of the nicest guest suites, with a wide bed, wispy purple wall hangings, and intricate lotus blossoms crawling up in carvings on the screens. It occurred to him suddenly that it might seem horribly insensitive to remind her exactly where she was and why. Tacky. He ground his teeth.

Wen Qing staggered right by him into the room without a glance, practically collapsing across the bed to lay the boy down. Angry? Disgusted? Done with him, whichever it was. But Jiang Cheng stayed by the door, fingers worrying at the thick fabric of his robe, running the edge of his nail along the weave as she tucked the blanket up to the boy’s chin. The need to say something--anything--was becoming too much to bear. “I’m sorry it isn’t very big.”

Her voice was dull and she didn’t even turn around. “It’s fine, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to...you can call me Jiang Wanyin,” he said, because he was apparently very stupid. The slow, disbelieving look she gave him over her shoulder was well deserved. “You don’t have to,” he added, because he apparently was not done being stupid. I mean, you’ve literally cut me open before, so I figured….

“...Alright.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to melt into the floor. Or possibly die. His mouth worked around his grimace of self disgust and he managed, “I’ll have the servants send in a bath.”

She sagged back on her heels beside the bed, still looking over at him. “Where is A-Ning?”

Oh. Right. “Probably….” Actually, he had no idea where Wei Wuxian had taken him. His room? The idea of that puppet leaking black resentful energy and lying on his childhood bed seemed ridiculous. “With Wei Wuxian,” he finished, lamely. “I’ll find out.”

Her gaze transferred to the floor, eyes unseeing and darkened by smudges of dirt and exhaustion. She was still quite pretty, but it was a gaunt, unkempt sort of beauty. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He should have let a servant show her to the room. She was waiting for him to leave, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly, just as he turned around to simply leave, saving them both the agony. “For doing this.”

His jaw tightened and he kept his eyes locked on the light wood of the column right outside her door. Instead of anything helpful or comforting, what came out was a low, unplanned, “Why didn’t you come to me.” She had the comb. She had to. It had been gone when he came back to check and he had thought...hoped….

Skin on fabric. She was probably looking at him, and so kept his shoulders rigid, back straight.

“I didn’t know if you would help.” Her voice was quiet, not angry or accusatory. But his fists clenched as heat flooded his face, his head throbbing. ‘You're untrustworthy and selfish and immature. Why the hell would I trust you?’

He was fucking this up. Again. Useless.

Jiang Cheng refused to dig himself a deeper hole. About 10 minutes too late. Without a word, he stopped darkening her door. Instead of going to his room and ordering a bath like he should have, he looked for Wei Wuxian, blood pulsing in his ears. Stalking through the halls, he scattered several anxious servants in his wake like ripples behind him.

When he found him, he actually was in his room, though the puppet was on an extra mattress on the floor instead of on the bed like Jiang Cheng had imagined. The room reeked of resentful energy--sour, burning, metallic. Old bile and blood and worse. Wei Wuxian himself was hunched over it with a brush and seemed to be adding to the fluttering layer of talismans that already festooned the prone form. It even took a minute for him to realize Jiang Cheng was in the doorway, but when he did, he leapt to his feet, haggard face anxious. “Shijie?”

“...Sleeping.”

“What did Wen Qing say? Will she be alright?”

“No thanks to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath. Then, he perked up, coming over to gently shake Jiang Cheng by the shoulders with a reproachful smile. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, lead with that next time, will you? You appear at my door looking like you’re about to avenge someone, what am I supposed to think?”

Smacking Wei Wuxian’s hands off his shoulders didn’t do anything to change his attitude. He just grimaced playfully and said, “Ow, careful! Now be nice, we’ll all be in trouble if you damage these hands,” while wiggling his fingers. It made the sharp rage in Jiang Cheng’s chest flare. It made him want to punch his stupid face.

“This is your fault.”

At this point, it was like they pulled out a script book for some overdone play, a rulebook outlining the steps to their fight. The brush off. Wei Wuxian looked past him, craning his head to peer out the door. “Where’s Wen Qing and A-Yuan? I wanted to tell her how Wen Ning is doing.”

The jab. “Are you even listening to me?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him, shrugging his shoulders as if letting the words just slide off of him with a stretch of his arms. The dismissal. “Ah, you’re always scolding me, so what’s the point in listening to you when you’re just saying the same things you have been for days? I’ll pay attention when you say something new. You’re so predictable.”

The snap; Jiang Cheng snarled, “How’s this, then? It’s your fault that A-jie is so sick.” He jabbed Wei Wuxian in the chest with his finger, knocking him back a step, pursuing. “It’s your fault if the Jin decide to wipe us all out again.” Another jab, another step. The insouciant air slid from Wei Wuxian’s face--instead, it was tight, the beginning of regret.

“Listen--”

“This is your fault and you’re not even sorry.”

A deep breath. “Jiang Cheng--”

He needed him mad. He needed him to stop moving away. “You weren’t thinking of anyone but yourself, like you always do. You’re making me take in and marry the people who killed my parents to protect you.” He could see Wei Wuxian bristle--because he knew it wasn’t quite true, it wasn’t really fair but Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

“What are you even saying? They’ve both saved us a hundred times over! These people are innocent, they were being brutalized, I had no choice--!”

“You always have a choice!” Jiang Cheng was shouting, now. “You just choose the one that causes the biggest scene! First you embarrass me in front of all the other Clan Leaders, then you kill Jin disciples and steal their prisoners--!”

“What right did they have to treat them that way? What crime did they commit?! I’m supposed to just leave them?!”

His outrage just fed the fury burning through Jiang Cheng, roaring in his ears, and he wanted to take his brother by the throat and shake him. He wanted him to be just as hurt and terrified as he was. He wanted him to stop acting so fucking noble, like it meant anything anymore after everything they had been through. His lungs burned from the resentful energy hanging in the air. Zidian sparked once, sizzling. “You always need to be the center of attention. Well congratulations, everyone’s looking at us, now! Aren’t you such a fucking hero? Isn’t it nice to have a shield that will rise up against every stupid thing you decide to do? When will it be enough?”

Wei Wuxian’s swallowed hard, jaw tight, eyes shining. “Do you think I wanted this?” He asked quietly, and Jiang Cheng had to bark a laugh that tasted bitter.

“No. I don’t think you thought at all. You just did whatever you wanted and expected the Jiang Clan to clean up after you.”

At this, Wei Wuxian looked away at the wall, shoulders bunched up, hands in fists at his side. “I wasn't...” he said tightly. “I was going to go. To take them--”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped. “Somewhere I could keep them safe! I thought...maybe the Burial Mounds.”

A chill flooded through Jiang Cheng and he stared. “Are you insane? That hellhole?”

Wei Wuxian was still looking at the wall, though he swallowed again. “I could...control the resentful energy. Make it safe.” He clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

The thought alone had him reeling. Wei Wuxian really had been going to do it. He really would have left, after everything. After promising to rebuild Lotus Pier with him, to support him. After Jiang Cheng had fought so hard to find him the 3 months when he had been missing. After Jiang Cheng had stood by him when the war ended and everyone had started whispering about sinister ulterior motives--did Wei Wuxian have no concept of how this looked? “And do what? Establish your own Sect? Build your own empire? Should I call you Wei-zongzhu from now on?”

Wei Wuxian recoiled, face screwed up in disbelief as he finally faced him again. “No! What? No! Jiang Cheng, don’t be an idiot. I was going...I was going to take care of it myself. I wasn’t going to ask or involve you. I didn’t--I was going to handle it.”

That rage condensed and dropped sourly into his gut like sick. That was worse. That was so much worse. ‘I didn’t know if you would help.’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted that cleansing fury back. “Nice fucking job.”

Wei Wuxian vented a short, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“I just d--” Wei Wuxian stopped himself, jaw working. When he spoke again, it was with careful containment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What a stupid thing to say, of course I did,” Jiang Cheng snapped back. “What other choice did I have?”

“You could have just let me go. I would have been fine. You didn’t need to…you don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

He would have preferred he had just fucking stabbed him. Honestly. Then who the fuck was he? Some acquaintance? Some stranger? To not ‘put himself out’--

He was really that easy to leave behind? Just that unremarkable, unneeded, unwanted? That every option, even the Burial Mounds where he had been trapped was preferable to staying with him in the home he had rebuilt with blood and sweat, plank by plank for them--for them, the only family he had left in this world.

What was so broken about Jiang Cheng that no one could possibly just love him as he was? What did he have to do to stop people from leaving him?

He wanted to stab Sandu through the corpse that used to be Wen Ning’s chest, tear off the talismans and throw him in the lake for the fish to take out of sight. To seize Wei Wuxian and scream; Stop letting go of me!

“Well, aren’t you so brave. Aren’t you so noble,” gritted out, all dark and vile, and Wei Wuxian flinched and Jiang Cheng would have felt triumphant if he didn’t feel so fucking awful instead.

“I had to.”

“You had to.”

Wei Wuxian said nothing. But he didn’t look ashamed. He just looked tired.

“Right. Because you’re so strong and powerful and right, always, and I’m the asshole who doesn’t care enough.”

“You know I never said that.”

“But that’s what you think. You still think that I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t do the right thing.”

Instead of fighting back--instead of denying it--Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath, shook his head and turned away to drop himself heavily beside the mattress on the floor. This retreat left Jiang Cheng completely empty. His nails cut into his palm and he was shaking all over, staring down at Wei Wuxian as he picked up another talisman, not looking at him. They had had this conversation already, in fits and starts on the race back to Lotus Pier, but hadn’t been able to fully say any of this around A-jie or the Wen’s and so had just jabbed at each other for days. But here, it was all unraveling at once like too tight bandages coming off. He craved a conclusion--the give and take of a shouting match or the clarity of a split lip and Wei Wuxian wasn’t giving it to him.

Couldn't. If it came to blows, Jiang Cheng would just hurt him.

And why was that, again?

His brother's face was gaunt as he ignored him, eyes shadowed, fingers raw and red with blood and cinnabar. Still working. Giving. He was always giving of himself to everyone. His protection, his trust, his love, his time.

His core.

Just more proof that he was better; kinder, more generous, better in every way. Well. Not every way, now. The overworked core gave an untimely twinge. But that even bore his fingerprints, didn’t it? His sacrifice. (He had tried so hard, so fucking hard to give Wei Wuxian something that only he could give, the only protection, the only apology Jiang Cheng had left for what he had blamed him for. And he had shoved it right back like an unwanted gift.)

Jiang Cheng wasn't special, though. That knowledge bristled in his throat like knives, now. What he had done for Jiang Cheng wasn't because he loved him--apparently, it was because it was the right thing to do.

And Wei Wuxian always did the right thing. He would have done it for anyone.

Jiang Cheng's eyes went to the talismans fluttering in the dark breeze. It was the Cloud Recesses, the Yin Iron, the oh-so-perfect-and-peerless-and-interesting-Lan-Wangji all over again. Leaving Jiang Cheng behind to go be a hero because he just didn’t fucking matter enough to keep around. Because Wei Wuxian thought he was pathetic and selfish.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning, his voice shaking when he spat, “Great. Then just keep trying to make yourself a better shidi out of that thing. I’m sure it will never stop kissing your ass.”

On his way back to his room, he snapped at a young servant girl to order a bath for Wen Qing. She practically ran.

Nice fucking job, idiot.

Crashing face first onto his bed, he fell into unconsciousness immediately.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Puzzles and Limes and Family Times

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Summary: Parenting kids is tough. Growing up and parenting your parents is even harder. Luckily T.K. and Carlos have each other to help figure things out. A post-ep for 2x11 "Slow Burn." Thanks to @bluenet13 for the help with the spicy food stuff and for inspiring what will likely be a prequel. And for just generally always being a supportive friend! 

                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“How about a book?” Carlos asked.

T.K. shook his head. “He has books. I want something different. Something that will really distract him.”

“I still think a couple DVD’s might do the trick,” Carlos told him. 

“He has every streaming service known to man. If he can’t find it on one of those, it’s probably not worth watching.”

“T.K. as nice as it is that you want to get your dad a gift for his surgery, maybe we should think about it a little more since you don’t seem to know what you want.”

They’d circled the aisles of Target more than once, T.K. turning down every one of Carlos’ suggestions. “I just want something that’s going to keep him busy,” T.K. said. “He’s terrible at sitting still. I’m afraid if we don’t do something he’ll try and run a half marathon three days after surgery and kill himself.”

“Babe I don’t think there’s anything in the world that’s going to keep your dad recovering the way you want,” Carlos said. “He’s kind of a strong willed guy.”

T.K. sighed and turned the cart into the next aisle. “I know. I know, I just have to at least try.” He paused and grabbed a box off the nearest shelf. “What about this?”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “A puzzle? Your dad doesn’t strike me as someone with the patience for puzzles.”

“Exactly. Maybe this will help him learn some. And,” T.K. tapped the box for emphasis, “this one has dogs playing poker on it. He loves dogs and poker.”

“That is true,” Carlos said, keeping his tone even and his expression neutral.

T.K. shot him a look of fond exasperation. “I know you’re humoring me but I’m going to pretend that was genuine.”

“And now you can humor me by picking out new towels,” Carlos said with a grin.

T.K. groaned. “I thought we already picked new towels.”

“We picked new master bath towels. We need some to match the guest bath.” Carlos grabbed his hand, towing him along toward the home goods aisles. 

“I didn’t realize you were going to use my moving in as an excuse to redecorate the entire condo,” T.K. said.

“I want it to feel like our place.” Carlos stopped and picked up a washcloth. “How do we feel about cream?”

“I feel like towels are towels. Especially in the guest bath.”

Carlos rolled his eyes and moved further down the row. “We have guests coming next week. Everything needs to be perfect.”

“Speaking of which, are you sure you want to invite my dad to dinner with your parents?” T.K. asked as Carlos silently debated the merits of blue versus off-white towels. 

Carlos looked at him in surprise. “He’s your dad. Of course I want him there.”

“It’s just…he can be…a lot sometimes,” T.K. said. 

Carlos raised his eyebrows and T.K. held up a finger in warning. “If you say I’m also a lot sometimes I’m taking the keys and leaving you here to Uber home.”

His boyfriend smiled and turned back to the towels. “My parents want to meet him. And your dad is very charming.” He looked at T.K., eyes sparkling with mirth. “Just like you.”

Now it was T.K.’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Besides,” Carlos said, dropping the blue towels into the cart, “having your dad there will take some of the attention off of me so my mom doesn’t tell every, single embarrassing story about my childhood. Instead your dad and my dad can try to one-up each other talking about crazy calls they’ve been on.”

T.K. wasn’t convinced yet. “He’s just really not been himself lately. And I have no idea what his mood is going to be like post-surgery. I don’t want him to leave a bad impression with your parents.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, it would be good for your dad to get out of the house. Be around family.”

T.K. sighed. “I guess at least if he’s with us I’ll know he’s safe. And it will give him something to do to keep his mind off how bored he is.”

“I thought that was what the puzzle was for,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as they walked toward the checkout.

T.K. sent him a withering look. “Just let me pretend it’s going to work and not sit on a shelf in the closet until the next time he has a garage sale. It makes me feel better.”

Carlos nudged him good-naturedly. “I will let you keep your delusion.” He stopped pushing the cart and leaned against the handle. “But it’s going to cost you.”

T.K. took a step closer and bit his lip. “Oh is it?” he asked, wondering exactly how randy Carlos was going to get in the kitchen appliance aisle. 

“Yep.” Carlos grinned. “We’re having camarones a la diabla for dinner tonight.”

T.K.’s face fell. “What? No! Come on I already looked at towels with you!”

Carlos just smiled and sauntered away with the cart, leaving T.K. alone in the middle of the aisle to hurry after him. “Okay but only a little spicy all right? Not ‘accidentally almost kill T.K. spicy’ like last time?”

“That was your own fault and you know it,” Carlos called back.

T.K. huffed. “That’s exactly why we don’t need a repeat!”

Carlos stopped and let him catch up. “If we’re going to live together we have to build up your tolerance to heat. Don’t worry,” he said, patting T.K.’s cheek, “I’ll be gentle.”

T.K. eyed him warily. “Nice try Reyes. I know behind that smile is a conniving, spice loving, diabolical monster.”

“What if I promise you homemade ice cream for dessert?”

“What because I’m a five-year-old and can be bribed to eat my dinner?” T.K. asked.

Carlos cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” T.K. said grudgingly. “But I want chocolate.”

“Then chocolate it is.”

                                XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. had never seen his boyfriend panicked before. Upset yes, excited for sure, but the most emotionally intense his mild mannered boyfriend typically got was moderately annoyed. Tonight however, he seemed like he might actually be about to lose his shit. And as intrigued as T.K. was to see where that might lead, a little voice in his head reminded him that Carlos losing his shit five minutes before his parents were due to arrive was probably not going to leave a favorable impression.

“Where are the tortilla chips?” Carlos asked, his voice sharp and pitched a note or two higher than usual. “I thought you picked them up on your way home today.”

“Right here,” T.K. said smoothly, opening the cupboard and pulling out the bag of homemade chips he’d purchased from a favorite restaurant down the street.

“And you told them to make the guacamole fresh right?”

“Yes, I stood there for fifteen minutes while the guy went out and hand picked the avocados,” T.K. said, trying not to let too much amusement color his tone.

Over the last few days the tension in their home seemed to have changed direction. As T.K. had grown more comfortable with the idea of his dad coming for dinner, (despite the one minor, running into a burning building incident that T.K. was trying not to think about) Carlos had gotten increasingly tense. 

The condo, always in a state of near perfect cleanliness now sparkled like something out of a magazine. And the list of instructions Carlos had left for T.K. to complete after his shift had been so detailed and exact that T.K. wondered if he’d stayed up all night writing it. Personally he thought that doing a deep clean of the refrigerator and painting over scuffs on the baseboards was a little bit of overkill, but he’d done as asked. Now, as he watched his boyfriend dart from one side of the kitchen to the other in a slightly manic state, he was wondering if he might need to intervene. 

Carlos pushed past him to take the perfectly made guacamole out and put it in a bowl. “Did you put a clean hand towel in the bathroom? The blue one?”

“Blue? I thought you said black.”

Carlos froze and glowered at him. “I’m kidding,” T.K. said, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Blue towel is freshly laundered and in the bathroom. I’m not sure exactly how the color of a hand towel could ruin the evening but I certainly didn’t want to risk finding out.”

Carlos’ face dropped a bit, emotional exhaustion pulling at him. “I know I’m being crazy.”

“Oh I think we surpassed crazy about two hours ago when you were picking individual pieces of lint off the throw pillows,” T.K. said with an amused smile. “Relax. Tonight is going to be great. You’re making a damn soufflé. How could anyone not be impressed by that?”

“Maybe I should have gone with something more traditional,” Carlos said, running an agitated hand through his curls for the hundredth time that evening. “My parents are traditional people. But your dad is coming so I wanted to pull out all the stops.” He peered through the oven door at the soufflé. “Maybe I should have done the beef. I’m going to take it out just in case.”

“Carlos, Carlos whoa, hey,” T.K. stopped him by putting his hands on his shoulders. “The soufflé is going to be great. Everyone is going to love it. Do not take that beef out of the refrigerator.”

Carlos’ eyes widened. “Oh my god I forgot to put the ice trays in the freezer!”

“Whoa, hey, nope,” T.K. held on a little tighter and didn’t let him go. “You asked me to do that this morning. Let’s just go sit for a minute—“

“I need to—“

“What you need to do is take a few deep breaths and get yourself together,” T.K. told him, pushing him gently onto a bar stool.

“I just want it to be perfect.”

“Babe I know. But it’s not going to be. Nothing ever is, so you need to let got of that expectation. It will be a great dinner because everyone who’s coming loves you and wants you to be happy.”

Carlos slumped a bit, mussing his curls a little more with his hands. “I’m nervous.”

“I know. But I’m going to be right beside you the whole night. And nothing your parents say is going to make me upset. Or want to leave.” T.K. leaned a little closer as Carlos deliberately avoided making eye contact. “That’s what you’re really worried about right? Not that they’ll say something to make you upset, but that they might hurt me?”

Carlos chewed at the inside of his lip and covered T.K.’s hands with his own, twining their fingers together nervously. “They just might not be as careful with their words as I want them to be. Sometimes they speak without thinking. They have old biases, things from church and the family…”

T.K. brought one of Carlos’ hands up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I know the difference between willful hate and accidental ignorance. I’m not worried.” He ran a hand through Carlos’ hair, fixing some of the damage he’d done to himself. “And nothing, not even rude parents or a fallen soufflé, would ever make me want to leave you.”

T.K. watched as some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “I love you,” Carlos said quietly.

“I love you too,” T.K. said, squeezing his hand.

There was a knock on the door and Carlos sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

T.K. leaned forward so their lips met in a sweet kiss. “Absolutely.”

[swissmissficrecs]

Can you recommend fics which are fluffy but explicit as well? :D I have just read a super angsty fic and I need to see my boys happy. Thanks x

Reply: First off, I have these fluff-related rec lists, but not all of them are high-rated and some also have quite a bit of angst:

Fluff Master List

Fluff (more since the previous master list) + even more fluff and good feels

Then from my bookmarks, I have culled these E-rated Johnlock fics that should be fairly light on the angst and high on the fluff & romance:

A Family Trait by cumberqueer (12K, E, Johnlock) Set post-S4, John is back at home with Rosie in Baker Street. He's working on a lot of things, including building his trust with Sherlock once more. An emergency shift at the clinic jumpstarts the process, forcing John to leave Rosie at home with only Sherlock to watch her. Sherlock does his best and John makes a mistake, but everyone is happy in the end.

An Approximation to Perfection by TooSel (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock realises just how good the sex John had with his last girlfriend was. The solution is simple: he's going to do everything in his power to ensure that their own sex life stays interesting. Only that it's never quite that easy.

And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (12K, E, Johnlock) What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, "Marry me."

Clutter-Free by MissDavis (13K, E, Johnlock) 5 times John made Sherlock clean up the flat and one time he didn't have to.

Full Circle by cumberqueer (13K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has noticed that his best friend and crime-solving partner John Watson is doing well - too well for what they've been through, if you ask him. Sherlock is worried John is seeing someone that is making him very happy, and intends to find out who. But first: data. Featuring a spreadsheet of John Watson's Smiles, a parentlock makeover for 221b, and John being charming af.

If There Were Any Time For A Miracle by Berty (31K, E, Johnlock) John and Sherlock are spending Christmas at the Holmes' family home. Sherlock has a plan that John doesn't know about. John has a wish that Sherlock doesn't know about. If there were any time for a miracle, this would be it.

I'll Follow You Into the Dark by fearfully_beautifully_made (19K, E, Johnlock) ...A story about two men who have had a very tough couple of years and are long overdue for a little tenderness and healing. Or four times that one of the boys wake each other up from a Nightmare and one time when it is not a Nightmare. ;)

In July of This Year by yaycoffee (12K, E, Johnlock) There is an oft-cited experiment discussed in classrooms and cocktail parties alike, a convenient analogy when one endeavors to make a point about not noticing the obvious until it is inevitable. Simply, if you place a frog on a hot plate, it will jump off immediately, but if you put that frog on a cool plate and turn up the heat slowly, slowly, it will simply burn. Or: How these two idiots melt together, finally.

Johnlock Advent 2018 by sussexbound (47K, E, Johnlock) A collaboration between @honeybeelullaby, @chained-to-the-mirror, and myself. @honeybeelullaby provided the wonderful prompts, @chained-to-the-mirror drew pictures based on those, and I wrote a ficlet for each one.

Merlot by Itsallfine (14K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays.

Put a Little Love in Your Heart by MissDavis (16K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes and John Watson will both tell you that they are not sentimental men, and that neither thinks the holiday season is anything more than a series of dates on a calendar. Don't believe a word they say.

State of Flux by Atiki (24K, E, Johnlock) John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

The Allowables by cwb (14K, E, Johnlock) Got your email. Your idea of whispering filth to me in public is genius. ALWAYSI thought you might like that. CBTM

To Feed Your Hunger by FinAmour (21K, E, Johnlock) What does a kiss say, after all? A kiss is a gift. A kiss is a promise. A kiss says, “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” John exhales. “Can I kiss you?” Sherlock is trembling in his arms. “If you don’t,” he murmurs roughly, “I may lose my mind.”

To Keep Quiet by Salambo06 (11K, E, Johnlock) Four days. In the end, that’s all it takes for Sherlock to accept the fact that there is a chance John might be feeling just as desperate for more as he is.Still, it doesn’t change the fact that they need to talk. Sherlock counts it down to four conversations in total, at least. He’s certain John is just as aware of this fact as he is, but still, Sherlock finds himself unable to think of any plan of action.

Undersea-Rainbows by agirlsname (11K, E, Johnlock) If John ever saw a picture of how Sherlock gazes at him when he isn't looking, things would turn around very quickly for them.

Winning the Goat by ArwaMachine (17K, E, Johnlock) The life that Sherlock and John have together is rather unusual. Sometimes they lounge about the flat with their daughter. Sometimes they flee for their lives from a band of organ-harvesting criminals. Sometimes they shag. Sometimes Sherlock insists upon arguing with John about the Monty Hall problem for weeks on end. Somehow, they love each other. Somehow, it all works. 

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Mean Something

I spent literal days working on this, and I still have no idea if its good, but I’m still gonna post because I know someone needs something like this.

Master List

~~

“When’s the wedding?” The cup in your hand clatters to the counter, spinning for a second before you manage to grab it again.

“I’m sorry?” You look over at your manager, Jihyo, who’s eyes show a smile as she cleans the espresso machine.

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed the ring.” Your other coworker, Jeongyeon teases. You immediately look down at the black band nestled on your ring finger. “Can’t believe you didn't tell us.”

“Oh this isn't-”

“Y/n’s getting married? So you are dating Minho.” Younghyun interrupts you, leaning on the counter. Jeongyeon gasps at his words, clapping excitedly.

“Minho? Which one?” Momo asks, joining you all at the counter.

“The one Y/n’s dating.” Jihyo tells her before you can say anything.

“Oh, Lee Minho, the dancer, right. I knew you guys were dating.” Momo pumps her fist, accepting a high five from her boyfriend on the other side of the counter.

“You’re inviting us to the wedding right?” Heechul asks.

“You have to!” Younghyun insists.

“Woah okay, stop.” You finally manage to blurt. “I’m not getting married, and I’m not dating Minho, I’m not dating anyone.” You turn fully to your coworkers and friends, finding varying looks of disbelief and shock.

“Then who gave you the ring?” Momo asks, setting her cleaning rag down on the counter and leaning on it. Everyone’s attention is on you as you look back down at the ring. It was just a plain black steel band, nothing special, and it certainly didn’t look like an engagement ring to you.

“Minho did but-”

“So he did propose!” Younghyun cheers.

“No! Minho’s just my best friend. He gave me the ring as a present for my birthday last month.” You defend, “Like I said we aren’t even dating.” The others exchange looks, before turning back to you.

“Darling, I say this with love, but you are so stupid.” Jihyo’s voice is soft, like a mom talking to one of her kids.

“What?” You pout. “No I’m not.”

“Did he get down on one knee?” Momo asks. You shake your head.

“No, cause he didn’t propose, cause we aren’t dating.”

“Did he put the ring on you, or did you put it on yourself?” Younghyun inquires, resting his head on his interlocked fingers.

“He put it on me.”

“Y/n, no guy gives his friend a ring without it having some kind of double meaning.” Heechul explains.

“And if he put it on you, that means he chose the finger.” Momo adds.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Maybe he didn’t propose,” Jihyo reasons, “But it means he doesn’t want anyone else flirting with you.”

“Besides, there’s no way the moment he put that ring on wasn’t at least a little romantic.” Jeongyeon adds. “You can’t tell me you’ve never felt a little something towards him.”

“Well, we did kiss.” You murmur, and they explode. Younghyun throws himself onto a nearby barstool, Heechul yells something you don’t catch and both Momo and Jeongyeon scream. “It’s not that big of a deal.” You insist, “It was months ago, around Christmas.”

“You got caught under mistletoe?” Momo shrieks, very excited. “When!?”

“Felix’s party, we stayed behind to help clean up and ended up in a doorway together.” Your face has heated up exponentially at this point, you’re sure the mask you’re wearing is going to burst into flames.

“Who pointed it out?” Younghyun nearly begs.

“I did.” They erupt again, and you kinda wish you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, darling, be honest,” Jihyo begins, grabbing your hands. “Do you like Minho?” Your heart caught in your throat. Did you like Minho? He had been your friend since highschool, and almost 7 years later you were now sharing an apartment. He was there for everything and sometimes it did feel like you were already married.

“Well, I mean-” You’re cut off once more by the bell over the coffee shop’s door jingling, and in walks the man of the hour, Lee Minho.

“Hey, I know you’re closed but I came to pick Y/n up.” You’re partially thankful for the interruption, but also know this won't help the teasing tomorrow. “Sorry did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all.” Momo waves him off, “Don’t you usually wait in your car for her?”

“Oh uh,” He lifts the umbrella in his hand. “She didn’t bring a jacket with a hood and it’s pretty stormy out there.”

“No problem, we can finish up here, you guys go have fun.” Jihyo shrugs, practically yanking the cup away from you.

“Got big plans tonight?” Younghyun asks, retaking his seat at the bar.

“We’re just getting dinner and going head home for movie night.” Minho explains, clearly uncomfortable.

You practically rip your apron off, shoving it in your locker with your hat and grab your jacket with lightning speed. You’re pushing past the group only a few moments later, steering Minho by the shoulders towards the door.

“By guys, see you tomorrow.” You call, with Minho waving over your shoulder.

“Alright what the hell was that?” Minho asks once you're situated in the car.

“They were being weird.” You dismiss him, “I didn’t want them roping you into the conversation.”

“Alright.” He shrugs, though you can tell he doesn’t believe you. “So what do you want for dinner?”

“Hmmm, I’m thinking about those steamed buns from the Chinese Bakery on 9th.” You hum, glancing over at him as he nods with a grin on his face.

“I’m so glad we’re on the same page, I already stopped by there after practice and bought two boxes.”

“This is why I love you.” You sigh, hoping he only hears those words platonically. If you were being wholly honest, yeah you did love Minho. Yeah, he teased you mercilessly and made it his mission to embarrass you in front of literally anyone, but he was also always there for you. Every performance, every bad day, every breakup, every time you had sworn you’d found the one, he was there, letting you lay in his lap and pour your feelings out. Minho was more than your best friend, he was your soulmate.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one sided.

“Hey, Minnie.” You begin, plopping down on the couch next to him with two buns. “I have a question for ya.” You wait for him to set down the remote before handing him his food.

“Alright you’ve got about a minute until the credits end, so shoot.”

“Why a ring?”

“What?” He properly looks over at you, bun about an inch from his mouth. “What are you talking about?” You simply raise your hand, showing him the ring.

“How come you got me a ring?” Minho immediately looks away, shrugging.

“Well I wasn’t about to get you that dog statue, it was like 200 bucks.”

“The dog statue was a joke, Minnie, you know that.” You laugh, but your attention moves back to the ring as you pull it off. “But this, I dunno, it feels like it has more meaning than just,” You aren’t even sure what to call it. “I don’t even know.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“What if I want it to mean something?” Your voice is quiet, and you don’t even give yourself a second to think about what you said before setting the ring on the table in front of you and shoving half of the bun in your mouth.

For the first time in your three years of living together and having movie night every Friday, Minho paused the movie. All this time, he had had a rule, no pausing, no breaks. You either sat until the movie was over or you missed some of the movie. Silence hangs over the small apartment and you feel about ready to toss yourself off the balcony. Minho doesn’t move for a few moments, his hand still poised in the air with the remote pointed at the TV. Slowly his hand falls, the remote bouncing off the couch to land on the floor, and his head turning slightly to look at the black band standing stark against the wooden table.

“How come you took it off?”

“What?” It’s your turn to be confused. “I thought it didn’t mean anything, besides it makes me look like I’m married or something, that’s why I can’t get a date.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” He finally erupts. “Maybe I don’t want you to date anyone and I don’t know what to do about it.” You can only blink at him in shock for a moment. “Minho-”

“I know you don’t like me.” He sighs, standing up quickly. “I just, honestly I became your friend because I had a crush on you, and I thought it would go away after all these years and it hasn’t.” He almost shouts. “And I don’t care that you don’t like me but please, don’t let yourself fall for someone who treats you like anything other than perfect, because I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if you get hurt like that again.”

“How could I fall for anyone else, when I have someone like you by my side?” The words come out before you can stop them, and before you can react, you’re rising from the couch, bun abandoned on the table as you make your way over to him. “Minho I have been trying to deny my own feelings for you for a long time, you know that? Heechul told me today that no guy gives his friend a ring without it meaning something, so tell me, right now, to my face. Why a ring?”

“Because I love you.”

You know Lee Minho, probably better than you know yourself, and as you look into his eyes, you know he means every word he said.

“I love you too, Minho.”

“So let me ask you something.” He starts, moving around you to the table, and picking up the ring. “Will you wear this ring, not as an engagement ring, but as a promise? A promise that no matter what, whether your friend, your boyfriend or maybe one day your husband, I will love you, no matter what.”

“Yes.” This time when he slips the ring on your finger, its accompanied by a kiss, one that has your heart stopping for a few seconds.

“I knew it meant something.” You whisper, lips brushing against his. You feel him smile.

“It means everything.”

[onyourzeus]

in ruins | kyh

title: in ruins pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: heavy angst, not a happy ending i’m warning you, small caps words: 4.0k

author’s note: i love hurting myself this way. 

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

you thought upon knocking on the door, you’d be greeted by the one person you have been looking forward to seeing all week. instead, an unexpecting friend of his unlocks it ajar, eyes peering over to your figure before realizing who you were. 

“wonpil, hey,” you greet him amidst the confused expression on his face. it brings him back to his senses, shaking his head slightly before fully letting the door open. he gulps slightly yet you catch it, but don’t question why he looks.. so nervous.

“is this a bad time?” you hesitate, taking one small step forward as you crane your neck to look around the apartment. wonpil immediately shakes his head again, sidestepping and gesturing his hand over. “no, no! please, come in. make yourself at home.” 

“okay, thanks…” you trail off, a small smile on your lips but a certain emotion tugging at your heart. with a better sight of the inside, you notice dowoon lying down on the couch with his phone on hand, seemingly focused on a game that requires both of his hands to control. wonpil closes the door behind you, and excuses himself to the kitchen before asking, “did you want anything to drink? water, tea?”

“i’m okay, wonpil. thank you, though,” you tell him, nodding your head to let him be. as he makes his way to get a glass of water for himself, you walk into the place further, taking in the minimal decorations and a few picture frames hanging on the walls. it’s been a while since you’ve set foot in the dorm, and taking in its unique scent and interior gives you some comfort from the anxiety building up from your stomach. 

you tell yourself that’s just how wonpil acts around you when younghyun isn’t around: a little shy, polite, and a smidgen bit careful not to say anything weird. you wish, at this point, he can get used to your presence. then again, you only get to see most of them whenever the bassist invites you over.

“hey, dowoon, what’cha playing?” you attempt to start a conversation, standing next to the edge of the couch where dowoon’s head rested. his sight is obstructed by the screen of his phone, so you bend down to check what has gotten most of his attention: genshin impact. 

“ah, jae had told me you rolled a keqing yesterday, that’s pretty cool,” you comment, and dowoon jumps from the sound of your voice so close to his ear. you get up, stepping back while apologizing. “sorry, sorry! didn’t mean to be nosy.” 

“no, you’re good—” he starts to say, sitting up from his comfortable position while pausing his game, haphazardly placing his phone on the side. a scratch on the back of his neck, he glances over to you. similarly to wonpil, he looks surprised to see you here. “oh! how’s it going?”

“it’s going,” you reply quickly, realizing more and more it doesn’t seem like you were expected to come. weird, you wander in the back of your mind, younghyun usually gives them a heads up when you’re coming over to hang out or just pick him up to leave. 

“did younghyun not say anything today?” an air of silence is felt, and now you’re more concerned when turning to look at his bedroom door— he’s not in there. 

“he probably forgot,” wonpil chimes in, approaching the living room as he sets down his glass. “hyung has been really busy lately, so it might have slipped his mind.”

“yeah, yeah. it’s no big deal. you’re always welcome here,” dowoon adds, an encouraging smile appearing on his lips. you reciprocate, albeit a little forced, feeling less sure of the fact that the plans you and younghyun had made and promised to pursue are starting to crumble beneath your feet. 

sighing deeply, you grip onto your purse and interrogate further: “he’s not in his room, is he?” 

the drummer and pianist steal a glance at each other for a split second, but every detail of their silent conversation is not lost on you. that’s a look of panic, worrying what you’d feel if they told the truth, rapidly forming excuses in their heads they can use to white lie their way out of the situation. 

“he’s…” wonpil begins, and dowoon’s ears have warmed up to the tense air looming all over you three. a door to the left creaks open, and for a moment you’re relieved. maybe you were overreacting, already affected by the many times something similar has happened to you, but there was no reason not to forgive younghyun.

 however, this time, it’s different. if that’s not him coming out of the door right now…

“hey, i’m gonna go on a run—” sungjin informs his roommates, locking the door in his wake. he finally looks towards the three of you in the living room, and given his certain sense of maturity— and analyzing what’s going on by the awkward expressions painted on your faces, he gives you a wave of his hand. 

“hi. you’re looking for younghyun?” 

“sungjin, i… yeah. where is he?” you let your breaths stabilize, not wanting to break down in the middle of what once was a familiar space, and is now becoming more and more foreign to you. as wonpil and dowoon remain quiet, pretending to busy themselves with his almost empty glass of water and overheating phone respectively, you keep your eyes on sungjin. begging him to tell the truth. 

he delivers, but his stare is hard, almost as if he’s hiding something behind the glassiness of his eyes. “he’s been out for the whole day. he said to not wait up on him since he still has another work schedule tonight.” 

as you stand there, knuckles turning pale with the way it holds onto your purse for dear life, you scoff sarcastically. leaving sungjin’s gaze, the anxiety had reached the base of your throat, restricting words of profanities to come out of you like a broken dam. 

“you can wait for him in his room. did you text him?” sungjin continues to console you, walking closer but allowing personal space between you. “i can call him while i run, he’s going to get annoyed eventually and pick up.” 

“yeah, i’ll do the same as hyung. we’ll blow up his phone so he can come back home,” dowoon joins with a perk to his voice, seemingly anticipating their master plan to succeed. wonpil nods along, but doesn’t meet your gaze, only swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. 

“you don’t have to do that,” you let them know as much as your voice can muster before breaking. “i’ll take you up on your offer of waiting for him, if you don’t mind. i’ll call him myself.” 

sungjin brings his fingers in between the bridge of his nose, contemplating on accepting the compromise. to hurry things up, you bring a hand to his shoulder and squeeze it gently. he seems to understand as he nods firmly, patting your hand before you let it go. 

“okay. let me know if he doesn’t come back in an hour, yeah?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“do you want some snacks? leftovers? are you hungry?” wonpil goes off with his questions, and it’s an endearing sight to watch him treat you so politely in his humble abode. honestly, at this point you’d rather leave and forget this day even existed— but you needed answers, and you know you’re not getting it from them. 

you don’t want to, anyway, because they shouldn’t be involved in this. they don’t need to be. this is between you and younghyun, and if you were to wait for him again, for the longest time— and maybe the last time, then so be it.

you’re not going to leave until you get what you wanted. 

“don’t worry about me, wonpil. i’m sorry for intruding on your night,” you apologize, bowing down before him as you make your way to younghyun’s bedroom. thankfully, he left it unlocked, and you swung the door open and close in an instant. with your back on the door, your labored breathing comes back— it took a lot from you to stay calm, collected, and unbothered by what’s going on. you didn’t want to make it a big deal, they’ve seen this before, and it usually gets resolved.

like you said, forgiveness was not an uncommon concept with you and younghyun. you believe it’s essential with how… complicated your relationship is with each other. you’ve fucked up a couple of times, said things that weren’t within your best intentions to, and younghyun didn’t hold grudges because of them. 

he would be upset, justifiably so, but after a day or two, you were both back to normal. he reassures you there wasn’t any bad blood, and he understand the frustration himself. 

from then on, you tried— really hard not to fuck things up anymore because it’s scary. it’s terrifying to think about the consequences of unwanted words, uncalled for actions with a person whose schedule is jam packed everyday, and his thoughts never ending. 

younghyun is always on the run, whether that be hopping from studio to studio or collecting ideas for a new song and another. 

it’s not like you aren’t busy yourself, but the degree to which he pushes himself further into his career is miles ahead from yours. and it’s not your place to complain about, it’s your choice to be supportive, though. which you promised. from day one, and he kissed you like it was the one answer he needed to hear.

you miss it. you miss him, his lips, his touch; everything that screamed younghyun, it’s right here. in his room. the only thing missing is the person himself, him. 

you walk over to his bed, kept clean and sheets folded. always organized, rarely leaving miscellaneous crap in random places. sometimes it’s intimidating, to visualize the kind of person who inhabits this room, but knowing who he is, you feel safer than insecure here. 

walking over to his desk, a black notebook sits atop with a pen to the side. ah, you notice the cap is missing, and you look for the miniscule thing all over the place. you find it on top of his dresser, and quickly put it back in its place. 

you guess, there are some things that younghyun forgets, that he misses, but never the big picture. 

you’re tempted to turn the pages over, but respect his privacy nonetheless. it might be lyrics he’s not ready to show anyone yet, and you of all people know what it’s like to write something new, a genre you haven’t dipped your pen in yet. it’s quite the daunting experience to bring it into the world, for other inquisitive eyes to read. 

most of the time, younghyun’s words are never amiss. in fact, they always fall in the category of perfect, for you. you don’t like to admit that because he will never believe you, so it’s best to keep it a secret for yourself. 

you enjoy his new releases better that way, making you feel more special in a sense that you’ve heard his melodies first. you’ve heard the stories behind these metaphors face to face. 

you wish you could see him face to face right now. 

before you forget, you pull out your phone and pull up younghyun’s messages with you. your text was sent three hours ago, and it was read which made you think okay, he’s seen it and acknowledged the fact that you’re coming over, maybe he’ll reply once he gets a break soon. 

he never did. 

you scroll up to the previous messages, a lot of back and forth short phrased responses that don’t mean as much as the way you guys would constantly bombard each other with long conversations. 

have you eaten? yeah, a lot. you? yup, out with a friend rn. ight, stay safe. u too. 

r u asleep? no, in the studio. oh, it’s super late. yeah, working on stuff. alright, text me when u’re home? i’ll try. 

he never did. 

feeling a tear fall down to your cheek, you wipe it away roughly and begin to type another text. 

i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. do you remember our promise? please respond.

your hand hovers on the send button for longer than you thought, and you bite your lip in anticipation for a decision so foggy in your brain. should you? should you be this upfront and accusatory? it’s not that bad, right, because he did promise. and now you’re here, the only one taking care of that promise— what’s his excuse?

i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. are you coming back soon? is what you sent instead, feeling the lump on your throat getting bigger and your eyes welling up hot, salty tears. you try to compose yourself. sitting on the edge of his bed, hands going over his white sheets as a way to ground yourself. 

you can’t cry, the walls are too thin and dowoon or wonpil will know. and wonpil will be too polite to leave you alone, and dowoon wouldn’t know how to confront the situation and just run to his room leaving wonpil by himself. 

it felt like forever that you wake up uncomfortable lying down on younghyun’s bed. you blink a few times before sitting up straight, your side hurting from the way you fell asleep on the mattress. you straighten out the right half of your hair that had been messed up having plopped down on the pillow, and look for your phone in your purse. 

it has been an hour since you got here, and no new notifications on your phone. 

you have had a fair share of getting stood up on blind dates before meeting younghyun, and at one point you stopped caring. boys don’t deserve your tears, you’ve never even met them and if they thought you were fooled by their persona online, then they were dead wrong.

but this is younghyun, the guy who proved himself different. the guy who came to your first date spot prim and proper, an hour earlier than the designated time. to think you were actually going to cancel this one because it was too tiring, too predictable at this point. 

but seeing his selfie that day, a table already reserved for the two of you and you haven’t even gotten ready yet, you felt guilty for assuming so wrongly of him. 

two years later, you’re thinking you should have listened to your gut all this time. 

as you are about to leave and practice what you have to say to the boys in the living room, the door opens and in comes a disheveled looking younghyun. his coat hangs on his arm, his hair a little haggard but his smile soon disappears upon seeing you invading his space. 

“oh, you’re here.”

oh? you’re here?

you stand up from the bed, eyes directly staring at him just five feet away from you even though he feels like a galaxy away with that kind of answer. 

“did you look at the texts i sent you?” you deadpan, trying your hardest not to seem fragile. 

younghyun shakes his head, plops the coat on his dresser and shrugs. “i’ve been busy, did you need something?” 

“you don’t remember?” 

he stands rigidly, his own fox like eyes avoiding your burning stare. they focus on the wall, with his lips in a tight line. 

he looks different to you. 

there’s something about the younghyun in front of you that makes you question your presence in his room. and how unwanted he’s making you feel. 

“younghyun, what’s going on?” 

“what do you mean by that?”

“don’t play dumb with me. you promised, hell, we promised we would see each other tonight,” you remind him, your voice rising a pitch higher and it strains your throat. you drop your purse on his bed, and cross your arms defensively. 

anything to make you feel safer in the cold that has entered the room once he got in. 

“something came up, i’m sorry. you know how work has been,” younghyun explains nonchalantly, still refusing to see you. refusing to tell you the truth with his eyes. 

it’s not enough anymore. 

“you could have texted? you could have let wonpil or dowoon or even sungjin tell me that , you’re busy, you can’t even do that?” 

“i don’t want to bother them.”

“well, younghyun, guess what? you’re bothering me!” your sudden outburst causes him to turn towards you, eyes wide and brows furrowed. 

they definitely heard that, and they’re definitely listening from the outside. but any worries about your image towards his friends had gone out the window by now, only to be left with an ounce of desperation for an explanation. an answer. an apology, even. 

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you’re scared to break off the eye contact at this point. you’re determined to tell him you’re not really mad, just frustrated. you’re not holding a grudge, you just want to hear it from him that he didn’t mean to do this to you. that he didn’t mean to hurt you this way.

your vision gets blurry, but you force the tears to pool over your eyes and not fall down. not right now, not when his gaze is steel and intimidating. 

“i’m leaving, stay as much as you’d like but i’m not going to be back until midnight,” he dismisses  you, grabbing his coat to bring it with him. 

a scorn burns on your mouth, words tasting like lead when you say: “leave, that’s all you know how to do.”

this stops him from his tracks. a pin can drop in the middle of the room, and you still can’t hear it. your thoughts are screaming, a headache forming on your temples not understanding how it’s come to this so suddenly. 

you didn’t mean that, but now your tears are saying sorry for you. you sob standing up, arms on either side and hands shaking from the pent up frustration popping out of your veins. 

you’re tired, so tired of being the one to adjust. of being the one to stay when he leaves, and foolishly wait for him to come back. only that he doesn’t, and this time he probably never will anymore.

“pull yourself together,” younghyun tells you, tone hinting pity which aggravates you further. he doesn’t look as mad anymore, but his shoulders are tense and his eyes fierce. “we can talk later. i have dinner with heejin and i still need to record kiss the radio later—”

“dinner? with who?” you snap, tears momentarily stopping with the mention of a name you’re unfamiliar of. “when did you schedule this? could it not have waited after tonight when i have been asking you for some time together for this very day?” 

younghyun rakes his fingers through already unkempt hair forcefully, distaste in his mouth as he shoots back at you, “i told you i’ve been busy, heejin and i have a song together and it’s supposed to come out in two days so we’re meeting up as much as we can—”

“yeah, okay. over dinner, at a fancy restaurant away from a recording studio, am i right?”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“younghyun, it’s my fucking birthday,” you talk over him, your voice speaking over the loud beating of your heart. sweat drips down your temple, the headache hammering itself on your skull as the tears escape down the surface of warm cheeks. suddenly, you hear yourself laughing. monotonous, without emotion, as you see younghyun’s scowl snap into a look of confusion, then of realization. 

“i know what the fuck i’m talking about, brian. and from the looks of it, you don’t. you never did.” 

“you should have told me—”

“and i need to remind you of that? after knowing each other for years?” you snap back. the walls vibrate with the volume of your cries, and you hear a knock on the door and a person asking if everything is alright. 

younghyun looks back, but doesn’t respond and turns to you with pained eyes, a fine line between guilt and feeling bitter. he knows he should have remembered. besides, your first date with him was on your birthday too. 

“enjoy your fucking evening, brian. i’ll see myself out,” you mutter under hot breath, breathing hard and eyes red. grabbing your purse, you walk past the man you thought you knew. and now he just feels cold. 

it stings when he grabs you, and he loosens his grip when you exclaim loudly. “brian, stop.”

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry i fucked up.”

“it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“yes, yes it does,” he pleads, pulling you closer to his body. you shiver, not liking the way he presses into you with a desperate attempt to forgive him. maybe if it wasn’t today, you’d drown yourself in his needy touches, inhale the scent you miss having all over your skin, kiss younghyun on the lips and understand he’s human too. 

not anymore, not when all the chances you have given him were taken for granted, and there’s nothing left inside of you to give him another one. you’re all out, exhausted from the waiting, the forgiving, the crying. exhausted from it all. 

“younghyun, let me go. please. i’m tired.” 

he hesitates, but once you pull yourself off him he releases his stone cold grip. your eyes hover downward, face sticky from the tears you have shed. 

no more. 

coming out of his room, wonpil and dowoon are nowhere to be found anymore. it was only sungjin, sitting by the island counter, scrolling on his phone absent-mindedly. he notices your presence, looks up and offers you that warm smile of his even if his eyes sympathize with your heartbroken gaze.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers. 

you close your eyes, shake your head and offer a grateful smile. for him. “not your fault. i’m sorry you had to hear that. please let the others know i’m deeply sorry.” 

“text me when you get home, okay?” sungjin hops off the barstool and places his hand on your shoulder this time, transferring the kind of warmth you have been needing all day, all week. 

you know he’s just being kind, roped into the tail end of your disastrous break up with younghyun so you nod once. he doesn’t take it and adds, “i’m serious. if i don’t hear from you, i will text you. multiple times. you’ve seen me do it.” 

with no escape from his compromise, you emit a small laugh and firmly nod this time. “okay, sungjin. thank you.”

“happy birthday, by the way,” he consoles you, and you do your best to keep another wave of pain locked up. you thank him, accepting the side hug he offers you, and make your way out the door. 

as the breeze outside doesn’t do well in vanishing the evident sadness on your expression. you walk the streets of the city holding in a breath, careful not to attract too much attention to your lonely self.

you get home barely alive, shoes left on the doorstep and your clothes slithered off on the hallway. you text sungjin what he wanted to hear, and once you’ve landed on your bed, you let it all out again. 

birthdays were never really a favorite “holiday” of yours before you met younghyun on this very same day two years ago. 

it was as if being alive on this earth for another year was a favor given to you by fate, having to know younghyun even more as the days go by past it. as much as he created meaning to your birthday for the past two years, this time, younghyun had destroyed everything you built together. 

the pieces are too small, much too fragile to make your heart whole again.

[thestarkerisobvious]

Ghosting You -- Chapter 12

my amazing art by @mrstarksbaby

The Previous Chapters Are Here

WARNINGS:  Suicide Idealization and drug use.

Chapter 12: Peter –   The Plan.  The Slap-In-The-Face.  The Sacrifice. 

He patrolled like a madman that night.  Zoomed through the streets of New York like a man insane.  Busted drug deals with a speed that would have astounded the Flash, if the Flash were a real life person and not a funny character in a comic book.  Left both dealers and clients webbed up to walls and blinking in confusion.  All the wares he dumped in the harbor as quickly as he yanked them - meth and coke and a dozen little pills he never stopped to identify.  Tossed them in the harbor before he could think about it.  Hour after hour after hour he grinded his way through the New York underground without mercy.  Finally, at dawn, when there was nothing left to do, he simply web-slung aimlessly, circling around his own neighborhood.

But the non-stop action wasn’t helping.  The exhaustion wasn’t helping.  It seemed like, if he could just keep moving… well the answer might not come to him, but at least he could come up with the definition of the problem.  

Somewhere in his journey he came across the rooftop of a neighboring building, and that’s when he remembered the Random Stash.

He had no real plans for the Random Stash when he had left it on that particular rooftop.  It wasn’t even that much coke. Just enough to get a regular person by for a couple of days. Hardly even worth hiding. He’d dropped it off there weeks ago and had forgotten about it.

He was glad for it now.  Thinking While Straight wasn’t working, so he tried Thinking While Messed Up.

It was absolutely the right move.  Getting high helped him think. The coke took the edge off the fear, and only once he had taken the edge off the fear could he possibly get around to facing his problem head on.  And once he was looking it directly in the face, then he could analyze it, see it for what it was.

In the end, his barely high brain informed him, it came down to the simple facts:

He had screwed up.  Royally.  Not “screwed up” as in getting in trouble at school or getting a bad grade.  “Screwed up” as in Quentin Beck happened, and conned him into committing a crime.  He had stolen Stark Tech by giving it to the enemy.  It was a crime so horrible he should either be jailed or possibly executed.  But he would never be either, which you would think was a good thing, but it wasn’t.  It left him shouldering a burden, a guilt, that he just couldn’t bear.  Maybe there were better people, smarter people, out there that could bear it, but he wasn’t one of them.

So he did the only thing he could think to do, he made a promise.  And that promise was the only thing that was keeping him sane.  The promise was where his brain went every time (and there were a LOT of times, sometimes daily, sometimes hourly) that his brain reminded him “You Committed A Crime.  You Almost Got People Killed.  You Should Be Dead Or In Prison And You Are Not.”  Every time it happened, his solution was the same.  He remembered, and recommitted himself, to his promise.

And his promise was simple.  He would no longer trust in anything that he couldn’t verify blind.  If he couldn’t do it with his eyes closed, he simply wouldn’t do it at all.

It should have been a hell of a lot harder than it was, but it wasn’t.  Utilizing sound, echolocation, his sense of touch AND his spidersenses made it ridiculously easy.  He could navigate his entire apartment with his eyes closed, hell, he could CLEAN it without sight.  He then moved on to walking the streets of New York the same way, Buying dark glasses  to keep from looking like an idiot, he set out with the goal of mastering one city block a week.  But it was so much easier than that.  He was now up to webslinging blind.  Sure he had bashed into several building corners, probably denting a few more buildings than he was comfortable with, but now it was effortless.  He wasn’t up to busting criminals this way - hurting people was different from hurting bricks - but it seemed the logical next step.  It meant his computer- and TV- time was severely limited.  The only screen time he allowed himself was his own phone.   He was obviously going to have to spend more time with his eyes open when he went to Columbia, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it (if that bridge even existed.)

But all his blind-man promises had been abandoned for the past several days, along with Spider-Man’s obligations, along with Peter Parker’s obligations.  And why?  So he could sit and talk to FRIDAY all night long.  

FRIDAY.  Someone he couldn’t verify blind.  Eyes open or shut, she was always the same.

She was someone he couldn’t trust.

6.  And it WASN’T because she had just HAPPENED to read out-loud the email from the DAY he had come up with the against-the-window fantasy.  That was just a coincidence.  It had scared the shit out of him at the time.  But now… calm, exhausted and high as a kite, he could see that she had just given him the slap-in-the-face that he needed.  She made him back up, and now that he had backed away from her, he could see what he needed to do.  

He knew what he needed to do.

And that meant something bad.  A hurt.  A sacrifice.  

But that was okay, wasn’t it?  People made sacrifices all the time.  Criminals sacrificed their freedom, and sometimes their lives, because they had committed a terrible crime.  Peter had committed a crime, and this was all he was being asked to give up.  It was harsh, but it was a harsh that he could live with.

The only problem, of course, was the disappointing fact that he had been, for almost two months, a Man With A Cool Car.  And now he no longer had a car.

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

We’re here, folks.

I’ve FINALLY managed to write the bit that I needed to bridge from Where We Were (written by myself and @von--gelmini​) to Where We Needed To Be (also written by myself and @von--gelmini​)

I’ll start posting it tonight.  It will be a WILD ride.  You’ll want to hang on tight.

[yourkimjaejin]

Beyond Live - NCT: Resonace [Global Wave]

This post has been a long time coming but so much happened during this concert!

Sometimes I can’t believe I began to stan NCT just this year when it feels like five years already. I just wanna take the chance to thank the boys for their hard work during the holiday. For me, NCT really brightened up my holiday season so thank you

Now that the sappy stuff is over, Enjoy the post AGzen’s ~ Love, Author Izzy

First off let me say, Moxy and Juno were almost about to box SM’s management for their setlist. SM’s original list for AG had SLAP, WTTJ and Breakout. Moxy and Juno were not having it!!

“I thought we promised fans never before seen stages!! We want to perform more of the B-Sides fans never got to see. Unless you’re suddenly gonna announce that AG will be holding a Beyond Live, We’re gonna need this setlist to change, NOW!” ~ Juno

So the compromise the company came up with was this, Two b-sides chosen by fans and one title track that they girls decide on. 

NCT AG’s twitter put up a post asking AGzen’s for their favorite AG b-sides. From that, AG’s twitter put up another tweet. This time it was a poll. The top four AG b-sides were listed. The two songs with the highest votes would be the songs the girls would perform. 

The fans chose and the songs were Circle Game and Give It Up

The general consensus on why the fans chose those songs was they wanted to see the girls flex their vocal talents. AGzens knew that the had dance and rap in the bag. AG’s b-sides truly revealed how much vocal talent lies in AG 

AG, themselves, decided to perform Breakout as their title track song. The girls adore the song and figured it had been awhile since they last performed it

I’ll reveal more about the new performances when we get to their placement in the show itself but for now, let’s move ahead to showday!! ~ Author Izzy

When Taeyong and SM finally announced that he would take a break to heal, SM let Taeyong pick who would fill in for his parts at the Beyond Live

Moxy arrived with the rest of AG and Jisung. On the way there, Moxy got a text from Shotaro while they were on the way to the venue

Noona, when you get here, You need to check in with Channie....I think he’s freaking out a little...

As soon as they parked, Moxy ran inside to find Doyoung pointing her to an empty dressing room. Sungchan was walking in circles, frown lines looking permanently etched on his face

SC - I don’t think I can do this noona. I can’t take Taeyong’s place. What if the fans hate me for this!

M - *Pulls Sungchan down to sit next to her* Channie....You are not taking Taeyong’s place. You’re covering for him so he can finally get some rest and the fans know that. They are gonna be so proud you because I already am *Kisses his cheek*. And so is Taeyong. You are gonna do great, Channie!!!

Moxy hugs him tight causes a smile to bloom on his face

M - Now lets get in one more practice in before the pre-record. I wanna make sure that second verse is flawless ok?

SC - Ok, Noona.

Moxy watched Sungchan run over Boss choreo with Mark and Juno one last time. Sungchan visibly relaxing and finally starting to have fun. Juno kept an eye on her dongsaeng during the recording

AG had a run through of one of their performances after The Boss unit+ Sungchan finished their pre-record

All of the girls had sparkles in their hair and graphic eyeliner around their eyes for makeup. 

For the 90′s love performance, Hannah was once again rocking her ICONIC black outfit. This time her hair was in a ponytail, certain strands with crimped for volume. AGzens posted a ton of pictures of Hannah’s abs

“How did we not notice Hannah’s abs before!!!”

Aurora was looking every bit of the queen she is during the Work It performance. Her costume was a new short two piece dress with lace on the skirt. Aurora’s hair was down and curled on the ends. 

Aurora rocked her lines as usual. She got real sassy when her rap line came up. 

“Sass master Aurora reporting for duty!!”

During the first mnet, Haechan pointed out that technically this is AG’s first concert and asked Hannah and Aurora how they felt

H: I think we put a a lot of pressure on ourselves to put our best foot forward since this is the first time czennies will see us in a concert setting. 

A: Yeah, I while this is cool we really hope things will open up soon so we can have our own concert

The rest of the members began ‘ooo’ing at Aurora’s comment

Next Stage: Nectar

Hannah was the definition of do it like a dude in this performance. All of her fans were drooling over her.

The next stage was Give It Up by AG. The song has been rearranged to include Hannah. Hannah did a quick change into her costume while Juno, Moxy and Aurora started the stage

They actually performed from the backstage area to the main stage. By the time that got close to the stage doors, Hannah was finished changing. Hannah entered just as her part started. The girls were all wearing skinny jeans, cropped basketball jerseys with black t-shirts underneath and platform vans.

LORD HAVE MERCY!!! DID THESE GIRLS SING THEIR BUTTS OFF!!

MTM (Musical Theater Moxy) came out to play with her best friend Queen Juno. These two vocals were on another level. 

And don’t sleep on Aurora and Hannah, they held their parts down!

The members of AG were strutting like they were filming their own version of Strut by the Cheetah Girls.

And at the end they nailed their final note, harmonies on point and no loss of breath

“Ok I knew AG had pipes....but DAMN THEY HAVE PIPES!!!!”

“Why is literally everyone a main vocal in AG. It’s truly unfair...”

Once the girls finished, Aurora took off her basketball jersey and handed off to Juno. The three older AG members walked off the stage, leaving Aurora. The Dream members joined her. Jaemin handed off her leather jacket to put on for the Ridin’ performance

Next we have the Make A Wish performance........................WITH MOXY COVERING TAEYONG’S PART!!!!

Taeyong had picked her to cover his parts. SM wanted one of the guys members to do it but Taeyong stopped them

Taeyong: Moxy’s got this! Trust me. (And got this she did)

Moxy’s swag level on stage is normally around a 8 or 9. For this MAW performance she somehow turned it up to 15. Moxy went into this performance wanting to make Taeyong proud but also show him that he had nothing to worry about. That the 22 members of NCT could manage with out him

Moxy literally runs off stage to get ready for the All About You performance. Jaehyun tells the fans that Moxy isn’t doing this Mnet because she is getting ready for the next performance

During the All About You performance, If you were watching Mark or Moxy’s face cam, you would have seen the two of them upstairs on the bed messing with each other (That sentence sounds bad doesn’t it??? I promise it was clean fun ok?). 

At one point, Moxy was kneeling behind a seated mark, dancing and hold her camera out in front of them

After All About You, Moxy runs backstage again to change into her dress for Circle Game

After the Without You performance, Juno walked on the stage behind them towards the door Jaehyun used. When Juno appeared on the other side of the door, AG’s performance of Circle Game started. 

The home stage was lit with somber lighting, The girl were all wearing white dresses and were standing on the bottom level of the set, each in front of a microphone. 

The loud, boisterous voice from their last performance were replaced with soft and somber tones. The melodies and harmonies were beautiful. After the first chorus, the girls move the microphone stands out of the way

Once they get to the bridge the girls do some small choreography that they made up themselves an hour before the show started. 

When the girls finished Circle Game, Juno left through the door again to join Taeil, Renjun and Xiaojun for My Everything. 

After Dream performed Go and Deja Vu. You could see how happy Aurora was to perform with all the members of Dream. She even missed Mark messing with her hair and calling her mean mug. 

From there, AG performed Breakout. The stylists for this concert had to carefully plan the girls costumes. The stylist left the prison costumes a went with a more simple costume. Choosing clothes that still Incorporated the bright orange jumpsuits

Moxy’s costume was particularly soft because after Breakout was a performance of Touch for 127. Fans rejoice at the chance to see soft Moxy on stage again. Next is Hannah in her all denim outfit for Bad Alive. 

Lastly, 127 did a performance of Kick It where Moxy covered Taeyong verse two rap

During the fourth mnet, Aurora almost cried like Sungchan when she got her chance to talk to the fans. 

Aurora: AG has been a group for two years and we haven’t been able to tour or do a concert yet. So to be here, performing for the fan’s in front of us and across the world, words can’t describe to feeling. My mom.......S-she took time off of work.....*she sniffles, Hannah and Mark put an arm around her* to see me and my sisters perform live. Eomma, I hope I made you proud tonight. I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Juno joining in on the clownery of Mark’s beginning line from Resonance

Moxy, once again covered Taeyong’s part during the Maw section of Resonance. 

During the surprise live with the maknae line, Haechan was making fun of Moxy literally running around backstage to change costumes. Moxy made to attack him but Haechan ran off

AG revealing that their favorite stage tonight was Nectar!!(I mean whose favorite stage wasn’t Nectar.)

Juno, Moxy and Hannah all saying hello to Aurora’s mom during the surprise live. 

[chikoriita]

Even in my dreams

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not acting herself, and Adrien is going to get to the bottom of it.

Things can’t get worse, right? 

(Post Miracle Queen)

Read on AO3

He was worried. He could admit it. He worried that Marinette was in over her head in something. He didn’t know what it was, but she wasn’t acting like herself. She barely took part in conversations; Adrien couldn’t remember the last time he heard her laugh.

It came to a head when he invited Nino, Alya, and Marinette to watch one of his photo shoot. They hadn’t spent much time together recently, and he took the initiative to fix that at lunch one day.

“Can you guys come this weekend?” He asked, hoping at least Marinette would say yes.

Alya shook her head. “I am babysitting the twins, and they are not allowed to go out until they clean their room. Between you and me, they are a handful when they need to do their chores.”

Adrien understood. “Nino?” He asked.

“Sorry bro, I promised Alya that I would help watch the girls. You know how they can be.” Nino shrugged. “Next time?”

Meanwhile, Marinette barely paid any attention to the conversation. “What did you ask, Adrien?” She continued scribbling away in her notebook.

“Do you think you can come this weekend? To my photo shoot?” He asked quickly.

She frowned immediately, and Adrien’s stomach fell. Oh no, what happened between them that caused that reaction? He could swear they had reached a point where he felt comfortable. That must have been a one sided feeling.

Marinette opened her mouth to answer, but then her eyes dimmed. “Sorry Adrien. I can’t.” She quickly gathered her supplies and hurried away.

Alya frowned. “That’s not like her at all,” she pondered.

“Is everything okay? She seems distracted,” Adrien commented.

“It’s not like Marinette to be closed off. I’ll try to find out what’s going on,” Alya said.

Nino put his arm around his girlfriend. “Just remember not to push too hard. If she’s not feeling up to it, then leave her alone. Marinette is entitled to her privacy just like us.” He directed his words to Alya, but they hit Adrien in full force.

He tried to forget what Nino said all day. When it didn’t work, he decided to start his patrol early. Patrol was the one time of the day he felt truly free. As Chat Noir, he leapt across the rooftops of Paris and watched for potential akumas. At least that is what he said he did. Sometimes, he just liked to bask in the glow of the city. But as he neared the school on his patrol route, he realized there was a special set of lights that were out.

The Dupain-Cheng bakery was long closed, and its bakers were likely asleep. Marinette, on the other hand, was usually awake long into the night. He sometimes found her sketching on her rooftop under her twinkly lights that were always on. It was a beacon to him on late patrol nights. Tonight, however, the lights were off. In fact, he realized upon further inspection, they were gone altogether.

What was happening with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

—

The next week, it got worse. On Monday, he entered Ms. Bustier’s classroom to find the seat behind him empty. It wouldn’t have been odd if he hadn’t seen Marinette sitting in the back corner of the room. She sat there with her head ducked over her notebook. She scribbled away as she had done last week at lunch.

Adrien took his seat and glanced at Alya, who wore her hurt plainly on her face.

Nino turned around and whispered to her. “Did you talk to Marinette?”

Alya spoke lower than him, and Adrien had to strain to hear what she said. “Barely, but I did not see this coming. Nino, do you think I did something?”

Her boyfriend patted her on the hand. “Marinette might need some space. She’ll come to us when she is ready.”

The problem was that Adrien didn’t believe that was coming any time soon. As Ms. Bustier started the lesson, he spied a look at Marinette. A little part of his heart hurt. Adrien knew they weren’t that close, but Marinette always had a smile for him. He enjoyed having her behind him. Her chatter with Alya lightened his busy days. Now, however, she made no eye contact with anyone and looked straight at the board. He heard the whisperings between his classmates. Did Alya do something? Is Marinette at fault?

All the unanswered questions finally got to Adrien, and he excused himself from class for a bathroom break. He hurried to the stalls for some privacy. Once Adrien was sure it was safe, he beckoned Plagg out of his shirt.

“This is getting worse Plagg! Marinette doesn’t act like this with her friends, not even when she’s not feeling great.”

The kwami crossed his arms. “What do I know about Pigtails?” He tried to change the subject. “You have any cheese?”

Adrien refused to take the bait. “I’ve got to figure this out.” His brainstorming was interrupted by a crash and a roar. Seriously? He never needed an akuma, but today he was already stretched thin with his Marinette problem. At least, he might get some of his frustrations out as Chat.

“Plagg, claws out!”

One freed akuma, Chat Noir stood on a rooftop with a panting Ladybug. This battle seemed to have taken more out of her than usual. Though, now that he thought about it, Ladybug had good reason to be tired.

“Are you okay, LB?” He asked his partner.

She straightened and shot him a not smile; really, it was a quirk of the lips without any conviction. “I’m fine, kitty.” She readied her yo-yo to swing away when Chat stopped her.

“Wait! Can I ask for some advice?”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “What do you need my advice for?”

“A girl.” When he saw her wince, he realized how callous that sounded. “Not like that! I promise. I’m just worried about my friend. She’s been alone lately, and it’s not like her.”

She patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Chat, but maybe she needs space?”

“That’s what everyone else says. I’m just not sure.”

“Sometimes, it’s nice to take some time alone for yourself when you’re overwhelmed. I know I do.”

Chat caught the misery in her tone. “Ladybug, it’s been weeks since Master Fu left. How are you doing?”

Her shoulders tensed. “I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” Before he could say anything else, she swung away. Between her and Marinette, Adrien didn’t have the heart to chase after her.

—

Adrien ran. He ran faster and faster until his lungs burned, but he couldn’t stop. Marinette and Ladybug needed him. Marinette struggled in a pool of water while Ladybug hung from the ledge of a building by her hands. He couldn’t transform, he couldn’t reach them, he couldn’t do anything to help them. Everyone stood around Marinette and watched her struggle. No one even tried to help her out. Why wasn’t anyone helping her? Adrien punched out, ready to shout his transformation phrase.

He woke with a start. “Plagg!” He groaned, reaching for his kwami.

Plagg flew over to him. “What happened, kid?” He waved a small paw over his chosen’s glassy eyes.

Adrien finally controlled his breathing. “Nothing. It was just a bad dream.”

His kwami sighed. “Just go back to sleep. You’re overthinking all of this.”

He reluctantly followed Plagg’s orders. What use was he to Ladybug or Marinette if he couldn’t even think straight? Some sleep might do him some good.

Adrien fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but Plagg waited a few minutes more to fly out into the Parisian night. He did not want to explain to him why he was sneaking out, nor could he explain.

Plagg alternated his route whenever he left the Agreste Mansion, but he always ended up at the same place. He phased through the familiar pink walls to find Marinette snuggled up to a few kwamis already. She wore the comb, the bracelet, and the pendant along with her signature earrings. Pollen and Trixx sat on her lap while Wayzz snuggled into her hair.

Plagg harrumphed. “Way to start the party without me, Buginette.”

Marinette giggled. “You sound like Chat Noir with that nickname. Don’t worry, we waited for you before we started storytime.” She gave him a small scritch on the ear before he made his way to his favorite spot on her left shoulder. Tikki made a face at him from her right shoulder. He returned it with sticking out his tongue.

He would never admit it aloud, but he enjoyed this secret time with Marinette. Plagg didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to his old Master; this was the best time to make the most memories with his new Guardian.

As he listened to Trixx tell stories about a former fox heroine, Plagg wondered what he could do for her. Adrien was right; she was too stressed to do this alone, even if he didn’t understand what exactly was going on with her.

Maybe it was time for him to really step up to being her partner in all ways.

-

The next morning Adrien woke up refreshed despite his bete noire. He had a plan, and he was going to stick to it no matter what. As the Gorilla drove him to school, Adrien recited the plan over and over again.

No matter what, talk to Marinette. It was a simple plan. Anything more, and he would surely mess something up.

Unfortunately, as he walked into the classroom, he forgot to account for one major problem: Lila Rossi. Class hadn’t started yet, but that didn’t stop Lila from spouting her poison.

“Oh Alya, why are you sitting by yourself? Where’s Marinette?” Lila asked dramatically. Adrien clenched his fist. Anyone could see Marinette was sitting in the back as soon as they entered the room. Why did she need to make everything a big deal.

Alya, to her credit, didn’t take Lila’s bait. “It’s not your business Lila.” Her tone would have been enough to stop any more intrusion, but Lila was unstoppable today.

“Is she not feeling well? Poor thing, she’s probably taking on too many responsibilities at once. It’s not her fault she can’t handle any of them.” Silence fell over the classroom after she finished her sentence. Adrien sensed the tension in each of his classmates. He looked at Marinette who stood quietly at the back of the room. One second, she was stoic, and the next, tears fell down her face. With a quiet sob, she ran down the steps and out the door.

Alya moved to follow her when Adrien stopped her. “I’ll go.”

She nodded. “Take care of her,” she whispered as he left.

Adrien heard Alya’s voice rise inside the room as he left, but he didn’t have time to hear what she said. He needed to find Marinette. Footsteps faded away, and a door closed on his left. She must be in there, he thought. Adrien quietly leaned his ear against the wood. Soft crying could be heard. He knocked on the door.

“Marinette, are you in there?”

“Please. Leave me alone,” she pleaded.

Adrien stepped away from the door. Isn’t that what Ladybug suggested he do? Give her space to figure out her life? Wouldn’t he want the same consideration? He almost walked away when he saw Marinette’s face flash through his mind once more. Tears streaming down her face. Adrien shook the image out of his head and opened the door. He found her hugging her knees and burying her face in her arms. She was surrounded by cleaning supplies precariously perched on their shelves.

“I told you to go away.” Her voice came out muffled.

He sighed and sat down in the small space next to her. “I’m not leaving you alone. If I left the room crying, you would be here right next to me.”

Marinette snorted. “How do you know that? For all I know, you would rather be in a supply closet than learning about the various invasions of Paris.” She looked up at him with her bluebell eyes. They were still a little glassy from her crying, but he saw that little spark of Marinette in them.

“Come on Marinette, I wouldn’t be caught in a supply closet with anyone but you.”

She let out a small laugh, and then buried her head once more in her knees with a sob. “I don’t have time for this. No time for any distractions.”

He recognized a panic attack when he saw it. Adrien grabbed her right hand with both of his. He relaxed her fingers and massaged them between his own. “Shh, Marinette, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” She tried to tug her hand away. “I need to do this alone.”

“What if you don’t Buginette?” A nasally voice interrupted them. They both turned to see Plagg floating in front of them.

“Plagg!” Marinette hissed. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be away from Chat; what if he needs you…” she trailed off from her scold. Her gaze drifted from Plagg to Adrien’s right hand holding her own. Specifically, to the ring on his right hand. “Oh no. Oooooh no. Nooooo,” she moaned.

Before Adrien could say anything to defend himself, Plagg zipped back inside his shirt pocket, and the door opened to reveal Ms. Bustier and Alya.

“Is everything alright? Alya told me you both left the classroom and hadn’t returned,” Ms. Bustier explained. Her brow was furrowed with worry.

Marinette opened her mouth, but Adrien spoke first. “I was having a panic attack, and Marinette helped me through it.”

She hummed in agreement and dropped his hand. “Adrien is right…” Marinette softly said. “Can we go back to class, Ms. Bustier?”

Ms. Bustier nodded reluctantly and bundled the three back to class. Marinette returned to her seat in the back, and later when Adrien glanced her way, she looked anywhere but at him. His phone lightly buzzed, and while Ms. Bustier wrote on the board, he checked his notification.

Meet me at the bakery today after school -M.

—

“What were you thinking, Plagg?” He hissed down at his bag as he made his way to the bakery after school. Fencing had been canceled, and with the promise of macarons, the Gorilla allowed him to go to the bakery.

“My lips are sealed until you talk to her,” the kwami responded from inside.

Adrien entered the bakery and smiled at Marinette’s mother. “Hello Mrs. Cheng. Is Marinette here yet?”

She returned the smile. “Yes she is. In fact, she said that you would be coming today. Go on up, the door is unlocked.”

“Thank you ma’am. Can I also get a box of macarons for my bodyguard? He loves the strawberry ones.” He reached for his wallet when she smacked his hand away.

“Marinette’s friends don’t pay here. Just grab it on your way out, dear. Now shoo!” She playfully pushed him toward the stairs.

When he reached their apartment door, he paused. She said it was open, but he was skeptical. Adrien knocked anyway, and the door opened to reveal Marinette. Without a word, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him up the steps to her room.

Marinette sat him down on the chaise lounge. “Wait here.” She climbed up to her bed and grabbed a package. When she came back down, she placed the box in his hands.

“When I first saw Plagg, I was angry. Not at you,” she quickly reassured him. “At him. It was unfair of him to reveal your secret.”

“Marinette…” Adrien started when she held up a hand.

“Let me finish. I was angry, but now I am not. Not because what he did was right, but because he did what I was too scared to do myself.” She stepped away from him.

Adrien was confused. “To do what?”

“Will you promise not to freak out?” Marinette asked with a small smirk. There it was again, that spark. If he wasn’t careful, he would happily be blinded by that spark one day.

He nodded. “I promise.”

Marinette giggled. “Liar. Hey Tikki, do you want to say hi to Adrien again?” A pink blur darted out from Marinette’s alcove.

“Hello Adrien. It’s good to see you,” Tikki sweetly said. If Adrien hadn’t promised, he might have freaked out a little just a bit.

“Hi,” he gasped. If Tikki was here, then Ladybug was here. And he for sure wasn’t Ladybug right now, which meant… “You’re Ladybug?” He squeaked.

“And you’re Chat Noir.” Marinette took the box and sat down next to him. She said nothing else. What else could she say? She was Ladybug. The savior of Paris, his partner, and the most amazing girl he’d met twice over.

After a few minutes of cycling through shock, disbelief, and excitement, Adrien finally knew what to say. “I can’t believe you thought you were alone.”

Marinette jerked back. “What do you mean?”

He turned toward her. “You told me that you couldn’t tell anyone. You could have told Chat Noir at any point.”

“Do you even know what I have to do?” She whispered. Marinette put the box down on the ground and lifted out a ladybug patterned egg. The Miracle Box. “I am the Guardian of this Miracle Box now. Along with defeating Hawkmoth, I need to learn all that I can about the Miraculous. There’s no room for distraction anymore!”

“But you don’t have to do it alone. Just because Master Fu did it alone doesn’t mean you do.” He thought for a second before adding, “Especially since you think you have to push away those that care about you.”

Marinette held the Miracle Box close to her. “It was my mistake that cost us Master Fu. What if I make another one because of my relationships?” She looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to make a mistake where I could lose you.”

Just as he had earlier that day in the closet, he pulled her into a side hug once more. “Is that why you pushed everyone away? You were trying to hide yourself away from the world and focus on being the Guardian?” He nuzzled cheek on top of her head.

She wrapped her own arm around his waist. “It worked for Master Fu.”

“You aren’t him. You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are the bravest person I know with or without a mask. You’re beyond intelligent and driven. I lo-” He stopped himself. She didn’t need that right now. “Best of all, you are the one he chose to succeed him. He trusted that you could do it. Isn’t that enough?”

They sat once more in silence, both processing what had occurred.

“You really think Marinette is all that great? She does make mistakes, you know?” She finally said.

“I know. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t trust that she was actually Ladybug.” He took a risk and placed a soft kiss in her hair before getting up. “I have to go, or the Gorilla will be here to drag me out of your room. Can we talk tomorrow at school?”

Marinette stood, rubbing her head in a daze. “Yeah.” She shook her head. “Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow,” she whispered as he made his way down the steps.

—

The next day when Adrien walked into the classroom, his eyes searched for Marinette. His heart did a little flip when he saw Marinette sitting with Alya and sharing macarons with her and Nino. Adrien thought his romantic interest was dormant after Miracle Queen. Watching Marinette giggle proved him wrong in the best way. Oh well, at least if his heart was falling again, then maybe he actually had a chance this time. She looked at him and smiled; he definitely felt that one in his toes. Marinette met him at the doorway with an individually wrapped macaron.

“Here. Passion fruit is your favorite, right?” She placed it in his hands with a wink. Yep, he was a goner. This Marinette was such a stark difference from the one he’d seen recently. If he hadn’t been there yesterday, he would’ve thought it was an akuma attack.

He took the macaron to his desk and unwrapped it. A small folded note fell out of the packaging. Adrien hid the piece of paper under his tablet, just in case someone decided to butt into his personal business.

Adrien,

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I realize that I was scared of the future and my role in it. I thought long and hard about how to move forward from here. I still don’t know what to do, but I do know one thing. If you want to be part of my journey as Guardian, I won’t say no. In fact, you’re welcome to join in on storytelling tonight. I’ll explain when you get to my balcony kitty.

Yours truly,

Marinette

His heart flipped once more when turned to meet her eyes. She tapped her ear and winked at him. See you tonight, she mouthed.

He heard Plagg groan at his sigh, but Adrien didn’t care. He was a goner once again.

[boldly-ho]

Another Life - Chapter 10

Fandom: What We  Do in the Shadows 

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: M

Word Count: 1838

Chapter Summary: You clear the air with all four flatmates.

A/N: As always, cross posted to AO3.

Warning: Brief mentions of suicidal ideation.

You entered the lounge in your pajamas, your face already washed, and your hair messy. You collapsed onto the couch and started scrolling through your phone, making excellent progress on spending the evening in a near vegetative state.

“You’re not going out tonight?” Dawn asked.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “No. It’s been weeks. That guy’s not coming back; I scared him off for good. So I figured I might as well stay home until my depressive state killed me, quite possibly by my own hand,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N. That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.”

Changing the subject from your macabre exaggeration, Dawn suggested, “Let’s go out tonight.”

You threw her a look.

“No, really. Like actually out. Not just you sitting alone and sad at bar waiting for someone you may or may not have known to show up. Let’s go out, you and me, for a girl’s night. We’ll go out for drinks and dancing. Not Boogie Wonderland. You need a break from that place. Some other club.”

“Rain check?” You didn’t feel like going out. You didn’t feel like having fun. You felt like lying on the couch until you wasted away.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really worried about you.”

You brushed off her comment, but you were getting sort of worried about yourself, as well. You’d stopped going to see your psychologist. Earlier in the day you found yourself wishing you would go to sleep and just not wake up. You were constantly miserable, surviving but not living.

“Well if you really don’t want to go out, why don’t we stay in and have a movie night? I’ll rent something online and then order a pizza, my treat, okay?”

You didn’t really feel like doing anything, but you recognized that Dawn was trying her best, and you appreciated it. And watching a movie and binging on pizza in your pjs seemed much more manageable that getting dressed up to go out and party.

You nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

~

The kitchen table was much too small for all five of you. Your elbows bumped either Vladislav on your left or Petyr on your right every time you shifted. Petyr sort of gave you the heebie jeebies, so you found yourself leaning slightly away from him, putting you uncomfortably close to Vladislav. You suggested relocating to the dining room, but were told that it was currently covered in blood and had a corpse laying on the table. You weren’t sure what was more unsettling, the fact that that was the state of the dining room, or that that news was delivered to you so nonchalantly. Nevertheless, the dining room was to an option, so you were all squeezed around the tiny kitchen table.

Viago cleared his throat before beginning. “We are here to clear the air about our being vampires and discuss our living situation with Y/N. It might be helpful if we reintroduced ourselves, properly, this time. I’ll go first.” He turned to address you directly. I am Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg.”

You stared blankly.

“Oh, and I’m 379 years old,” he added as an afterthought.

You tried to do the mental math in your head, but quickly gave up and decided to figure it out later.

“Deacon Brucke. I’m 183 years old.”

“Vladislav the Poker.  862 years old.”

He might not have been kidding about the Middle Ages last night, after all. You turned to Petyr, anticipating his introduction.

“Petyr,” he rasped, his voice as cold and creepy as the rest of him.

You waited for his age, but he stared blankly at you with his pale eyes, not volunteering any further information.

“We don’t know how old Petyr is,” Viago explained. “He lost track. Over 8,000, though.”

Your jaw dropped. “For real?”

Your turned back to Petyr and he nodded once. Shit. Okay, then.

Viago continued, “Y/N, do have any questions about vampires in general or specifically about any of us?”

You figured a general ‘Tell me about vampires.’ was too open-ended, and you tried to think of a more specific question. You had a lot of questions, though, and you didn’t know where to start. You also had some vague ideas and assumptions about vampires, but you didn’t know which, if any, were true. “How about I just tell you what I’ve heard about vampires, and you guys can correct me where I’m wrong and fill in the gaps. Does that work?”

The four looked to one another before nodding.

“So, you-“ You realized you didn’t quite feel comfortable referring to them as vampires, so you restarted, more generally. “So, vampires need to consume human blood. They sleep in coffins, during the day. Sunlight, garlic, silver, and crosses are all bad for them.” You looked around to see that all four were still nodding along, so you continued, rattling things off a bit faster. “Not showing up in mirrors, turning into bats, flying, having to be invited in, wooden stakes, hypnosis, and whatever Deacon did with that guy’s backpack.”

“Teleportation,” Deacon clarified.

You nodded, but tried not to give it too much thought. Watching him crawl out of that backpack was easily the most horrifying thing you’d ever encountered, and you felt the ball of fear and anxiety in your stomach return just remembering it.

“Vampires also have quicker and superior healing ability than humans.”

“And it’s not just bats,” Deacon added. “Cats and dogs, too. But with practice it can be any animal. Vladislav is known for his transformation abilities.”

Vladislav smiled proudly. “That’s not practice, though, that’s skill.”

“Ja, some vampires have certain abilities that other vampires don’t. I once met a vampire who could become invisible,” Viago explained.

“It isn’t just crucifixes, either.” Vladislav glanced quickly to your chest where he knew your necklace hung. “It’s any religious icons or words.”

“Really? Words? Like even if I just say ‘god’-“

You were cut off by wincing and hissing from around the table.

“Don’t do that!” Deacon scolded you.

“Shit. Sorry.” As frightening as vampires inherently were, it made you feel better that they had their weaknesses. “So is it just vampires? That are real, I mean? Or is every mythological creature real? Do I need to be on the lookout for, like, ghosts?”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Deacon scoffed.

“Of course ghosts are real,” Viago argued.

“Oh really? Have you ever seen a ghost?”

“Not technically. But the house I grew up in was haunted! There was a spirit who lived in the walls.”

“There was not. It was probably a rat.”

“You think I would confuse a rat for a ghost?”

“So, there’s no reason for me to change my thoughts on ghosts?” you interrupted.

“Ghosts are real,” Vladislav answered. You took it with a grain of salt, though. “Werewolves are real, too.” The rest of the group nodded. “I wouldn’t go out on full moons, if I were you. There is a pack that roams in Te Aro.”

That thought chilled you. You were sure you’d gone out in Te Aro on a full moon before. Then again, you’d gone out many times before unaware that there were vampires, including your current flatmates, out and about.

“Zombies and witches, too.”

“We’re not sure what all exists,” Viago told you. “Lots of myths are true, and lots aren’t. Some Maori myths are based on real creatures.”

“Oh! Petyr, remember the taniwha that attacked our ship when we came to New Zealand?”

Petyr nodded solemnly.

Vampires, werewolves, assorted creatures. Your entire worldview was being forcibly changed over these past 24 hours, but you just nodded. What else could you do?

“I’m safe, right?” you asked suddenly. “From you guys? I mean, there’s literally a dead body in the other room.” You were afraid it sounded more accusatory than you meant it, but you felt it was a fair question, all in all.

“We can control ourselves,” Deacon said, somewhat indignantly.

“You’re our flatmate and our friend. You don’t have to worry.”

“Thanks.” You thought it was odd to thank someone for not killing you, but you didn’t know what else to say. “Is there anything you guys need from me? As a human flatmate? Other than not slamming the doors and being quiet during daylight hours?”

“Don’t tell anyone we’re vampires,” Vladislav said sternly. “Not anyone. Not ever. Vampire hunters are also real and when word gets out that you are a vampire, you tend not to be around soon after.” He, as well as the other three, looked deadly serious.

You nodded quickly to reassure them. “I won’t tell anyone.” You looked around the table. Everyone was still seated, though it felt like the natural conclusion to the flat meeting. “About the dining room…?”

“Jackie will be here to clean it up later tonight,” Deacon said.

“Is she a vampire, too?”

“No. She is my familiar.”

“Familiar?” To you, the word conjured images of black kittens following cartoon witches on broomsticks. You weren’t sure how the term applied to the woman you’d once met.

“Slave,” Vladislav clarified.

You looked at him in shock, and he returned your gaze, shameless and undisturbed. It wasn’t the first time something that had appalled you had entirely unaffected him. You wondered if that was a result of his being a vampire, his living for over 800 years, his being from the Middle Ages, or if it was just how he was as a person.  

Undoubtedly sensing your discomfort, Viago clarified, “A familiar serves a vampire for a while in exchange for being turned into a vampire after service.”

You calmed a bit. That sounded better than ‘slave.’ “So you’re going to turn her into a vampire?”

“No,” Deacon snorted.

“What? Why not?”

“Familiars don’t get turned into vampires.”

“Well, sometimes, probably, they do,” Viago argued. “I’ve never actually heard of it happening, though.”

“You’ve lost me,” you told them honestly.

Vladislav sighed. “Familiars exchange their service for the promise of becoming a vampire. Then they serve their masters until they die of old age or are killed.”

You exclaimed in disgust. “That’s horrible.”

Vladislav shrugged, his sleeve brushing your bare arm. These guys all ate actual, live people to survive. You supposed their moral compasses would have to be a bit more skewed than yours was.

However, despite your clear distaste for it all, you felt relieved to know they were vampires. It was one thing to kill because you could, or because you wanted to, as you thought had been the case before last night. It was another to kill because you had to. Yes, innocent people still died, and yes, your flatmates seemed to enjoy it. Deacon’s manic laughter as he chased that man out of your room was sure to haunt you for a while to come. But no matter how awful it was for the victims, or or how little guilt they felt about it, they had to do it to survive. And that fact alone made you feel better, if only a bit.

[the-peachpit]

NO SHIPPING

Wanring: Blood, Very loose interpretation of the dream smp lore lol

Summary:Technoblade Get's To Dream Before Quakity, Before Time Is Altered By Dream. Before Tommy Has A Chance To Return.

Notes:Hi! I'm really nervous to be writing for this group. I tried hard to respect boundaries using a master post on tumblr to double check. if I over stepped anywhere or was wrong in my interpretation let me know.

It wasn’t his fault. The blood on his hands meant nothing cooling and seeping into his fur. Fur. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d transformed back. Was it that easy for him now to lose control?

Stumbling his way into his home inviting the snow on his heels Technoblade let the door shut enveloping the room in darkness, not even the moon was out tonight. Limping like the beast he was Techno lit a torch on the wall with shaky hands. He caught a glimpse of himself in the small hall mirror the deep cut in his snout darkening his pink fur grungy and matting. It’d been so long since he’d returned to his true piglin form. He wasn’t a beast; he was a man. He lived like a man; he grew up among great men. His father was the best man he knew, and his brothers- men of action and determination. Skirting a fine line into madness over their pride, maybe his brothers were beasts, and maybe he played a part as the eldest. Hearing voices, unable to control his shapeshifting, giving into the voices and pushing Wilbur a little too hard outside. Maybe he had been the plague, but he changed. God he had changed. Refining himself in the image of those around him wanting nothing more than peace among the outskirts and land of his own to farm.

Now he stood covered in blood that wasn’t just his huffing his snout fogging the glass. Where did he go wrong? Was it demeaning his brothers dreams? To be leaders, Wilbur was always meant for something great, and even Philza could see it fostering his natural leader instinct. Sometimes it felt like Wilbur was the eldest. The way he would stir up Tommy for a laugh, but always taught the boy to be patient and gentle. How he took care of Technoblade when the voices demanded blood and his hand twitched over his sword. The way Wilbur had found techno doubled over in the closet scratching at the wooden floor with claws piercing long marks. At that point Techno had been in his human form for a while but was losing control that night with Philza out of town. Techno was supposed to protect his brothers. Instead, he chucked his sword to the corner so he wouldn’t be the one to end their lives as his piglin form emerged. Wilbur was slow, but fearless as he spoke softly placing a hand over Techno’s. it was the warmest he’d ever felt. Wilbur told Techno he trusted him, that his brother could never hurt him piglin or not. Wilbur promised to always be louder than the voices. How fast L’manburg had risen and fallen. Techno almost couldn’t believe it when he heard the news. Wilbur had been exiled from all he loved. Instead of coming home Techno found Wilbur and Tommy looking battered and defeated in a cave. Techno’s heart broke seeing them look so dull he offered to help. When he handed Wilbur his first sword techno ignored the flame he saw, the glint in his brother’s eye. He should have said something, instead he led his brothers charge into battle sealing their fates unknowingly.

When Wilbur died Techno felt like his own life had been taken from him. He watched his brother die at the hands of his father and there was no good in the world anymore, nothing mattered. He wanted to scream, but instead scowled hiding himself away. Until his youngest brother betrayed him. Voices seared his brain and Techno knew releasing those withers was a bad idea, but he was so angry. Betrayed by the boy with wheat colored hair who shot for the stars letting nothing stand in his way. The boy who followed his older brother anywhere even into madness. Techno felt like he had no family after that. When he got home from that battle as L’manburg burned he felt the sting of it all. The blood on his hands was almost Tommy’s.

Techno smashed the mirror forcing himself to transform, to see the human hand covered in blood. He was a person. With little strength left he popped back to a pink furry beast. He continued to light his small home trudging to the bathroom. His clothes were torn in spots partially from the transformation. Forcing himself to turn again he saw the damage to his human complexion, the dark bags under his eyes, the scar on his snout ran from the right underside of his cheek to under his left eye. A trophy of sorts.

Techno cleaned his wounds slowly, deliberately, letting himself feel the sting of antiseptic. He deserved it- to hurt like they hurt. Changing his clothes and moving to the living room techno lit his fireplace when the vase in the corner of the room caught his eye. It was filled with various flowers from Ranboo who would generously give them away when Techno would visit Tubbo mostly to see Tommy. Techno never understood why Tommy had forgiven Tubbo for anything, and so easily at that. Techno had gotten revenge on Tubbo watching blood seep from his face by his own hands and still wasn’t satisfied by the punishment. In fact, Tommy was ruining it, because when Techno saw Tommy make Tubbo smile moving the burn scars on his face Techno felt weird. Remorse? Tommy was a spitfire who never thought anything through including befriending the enemy. Techno wondered if in the end he was an enemy? The thought squeezed his heart like a vice.

Techno looked at the chair in the middle of the room, he’d wanted to read a book and call it a night, his bones ached, and his head throbbed. Was he getting too old for this? Fighting everyone, why was he stilled pulled into this? He asked to be left alone, it’s all he wanted.

Huffing he knew he couldn’t just sit there. Opening the front door, he grabbed his coat before walking towards the stables stomping through the snow to his polar bear. It would make the trip faster, and Tubbo enjoyed seeing his pet. It would make things, easier.

Ridding through the dark with just the gentle glow of the stars to guide him Techno let the blistering cold nip at his face. To perk him up or make him feel alive he wasn’t sure. He rode through the frozen tundra watching the snow melt to warmer climates. It was spring where Tubbo lived a new life. He never locked himself away. Knocking on the door Techno waited unsure what he could even say when he saw the charred face of the small ram boy.

“Do you have any god damn idea what time it,” Tubbo’s curses slowed as he rubbed his eyes taking in the sight of his former foe.

“I’m not sure time’s been a blur tonight,” Techno shrugged.

“Why are you here?”

Techno could practically hear Tubbo’s teeth grinding.

“I just want to talk about,” Techno sighed, “Tommy.”

“Leave,” Tubbo’s normally cheerful voice sent shivers through Techno’s spine.

“I will just,” Techno stood straighter saving face his 7-foot frame usually kept him brave.

“Leave!” Tubbo shouted, “Tommy’s dead! I had his funeral and, where were you? Couldn’t be bothered to show up! Did you even know?”

Techno felt it the crack in his heart, he knew Tommy was dead. He was probably one of the last to hear in passing from Ranboo before being left on his own in his self-made snowy dungeon. His hell he personally crafted. He didn’t sulk at first, it sunk in over a glass of whisky, his youngest brother had been beaten to death in a prison he was never meant to be in. The brother he had cleaned scrapes for and applied bandages. The brother he taught how to fight and had dinner with hearing his plans for his future. Tommy, the boy with wheat colored hair who shone like the sun. It wasn’t fair. His light was snuffed out in a cold dark place at the hand of his tormentor from day one. Beaten to death. Techno couldn’t get over it. He smashed his glass and knocked his bookcases to the ground. Beaten to death! Brutal, soulless, painful. God Tommy was probably in so much pain. Pain Techno couldn’t protect him from or make better. He died alone.

“I killed him,” Techno’s voice was a whisper that stung.

“What?” Tubbi stuttered.

“I killed Dream,” Techno looked at his hands he could still see the blood.

“I don’t,” Tubbo stepped forward driven by curiosity.

“I went to the prison,” Techno shouted, “I kicked the crap out of Sam, and I killed Dream!” He ran his hand frantically through his messy pink hair, “I was just going to talk to him, but I saw Tommy’s body, and I had my axe.”

Tommy’s eyes were milky a far cry from his curious blue gaze. His face was bruised and bloodied. He looked so cold not even the lava could warm him. Dream just sat there welcoming Techno assuming he was a break out party. The voices screamed demanding blood, and Techno obliged happily. With a fierce swing Techno planted his axe between Dreams ribs.

“He laughed,” Techno smiled, “The damn bastard cackled as I slaughtered him. All he did was scratch me once as I lost control and mauled him.”

“Kinda looks like he scratched you pretty good,” Tubbo observed the large scar.

“Heh,” Techno laughed, “I guess.”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me this?” Tubbo leaned against the door frame.

“I want to know if you’ve seen Philza,” Techno asked, “I brought back Tommy’s body, it’s in the snow at my place. I want to bury him properly. Him and Wilbur. I’m not sure if Philza knows about Tommy yet, and I should be the one to tell him.”

Philza hadn’t talked about Wilbur either since the tragedy. Techno wanted to walk about that too.

Tubbo nodded, “Let me talk to Ranboo, I’ll be back out.”

The plan was set in motion. Tubbo accompanied Techno back to his house refusing to look at Tommy’s corpse and Techno couldn’t blame Tubbo. They rode for a day and a half returning to the small cabin Techno remembered growing up in. He could hear the laughter of Tommy and Wilbur echo on the breeze that rustled the trees. He saw Philza standing on the deck looking down at them. When did he get so old? He looked so tired. He knew.

No words were exchanged as Techno dismounted his polar bear and Philza descended the stairs. Techno tried his best to make the words come to him. He was told he always had a way with words. Before he could open his mouth, strong arms embraced him. They were warm and comforting. They felt like support. Slowly Techno raised his arms grabbing onto Philza’s shirt hands balled into firsts. When was the last time they were this close?

Tommy and Wilbur were buried in the back of the house under the tree Tommy had fallen out of breaking his arm. Under the tree Wilbur wrote songs on lazy afternoons. Under the tree Techno taught his brothers how to wield a sword and be strong. The tree they grew under.

“Welcome home Theseus.”

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Big Spook (Peter Parker x Reader -  Part 1)

Synopsis: Aged Up!Peter thinks he’s done well with leading a double life. He’s studying what he likes, he has his own place, he’s dating the girl he loves... but that doesn’t mean life is easy all the time. Even superheroes have bad days - and sometimes worse days.

Tags: Aged Up!Character, College AU, Established relationship, Whump, Angst. Does not take FFH into account. SPOILER FREE.

Word count: 2k

A/N: I decided to write a shorter piece since my long ones don’t get a lot of attention. I don’t know why... Do you guys prefer short imagines? Do you get discouraged when you see “word count: 9k”??? Please tell me in the comments so I can adapt my writing :(

>>> Part 2

MASTERLIST

Any twenty-something will tell you that life is a roller-coaster. One minute you’re on top of the world, the next you’re plummeting down, plunging towards the cement ground at a hundred miles an hour with no means of pulling the breaks of your own demise.

But if you asked Peter Parker, twenty-four and currently balancing out a post-graduate and superhero life, it was far worse than that. The highs were higher – as high as space, actually – and the lows were…

Actually, he didn’t like to talk about the lows. They were the kinds of lows he sometimes couldn’t remember, and that said it all. He could deal with those, but it killed him to see the effect it had on (Y/N), the way she worried herself sick over his well-being.

They had been dating for a solid five years now, and lived together in a small, grimy apartment – the only thing they could afford – near NYU, where they both studied mechanical engineering. It was how they met, in freshman year, and slowly became permanent features in each other’s life.

(Y/N) was strong and steadfast, though she often gave the appearance of a delicate slip of a woman, Peter had discovered it was no were near her true self. He knew she could take whatever life threw at her, and that was why he didn’t push her away when things started becoming serious between them, and he realized it might one day put her in danger.

He had once told her she was like a river: calm and steady on the surface, but intense and full of life deep down. It had made her smile and she had called him silly, then kissed him. Peter loved the way she loved him, and he loved to love her too. It was easy, like second nature really. There was no fighting it, and to be honest, Peter didn’t even try because turning away from her radiant presence was the last thing he wanted. However, that didn’t mean that he could impose his alter ego to her.

Therefore, he had decided to tell her about his double life, to give her a chance to back out of their relationship if she decided it was too much. He never got the chance in the end, because the day he finally worked up the courage to talk to her was the first day he got seriously beat up by a villain since they started dating.

(Y/N) had found Peter in the alley next to her shared apartment, limping in the shadows and calling her name in a whisper. He had collapsed and lost consciousness before she could reach him.

That day became a turning point in both their lives, but not necessarily for the worst. (Y/N) had carried him – hell knows how – up to the fourth floor where she lived and smuggled him in her room without her roommates noticing anything, and she had tended to his wounds after establishing that he wasn’t in any life-threatening condition.

Peter woke up two days later, the morning sun hitting him in the face, his Spider-Man suit hanging on the back of a chair next to the bed he laid on. He recognized his surroundings immediately, sending his heart into a frenzy, but when he tried to stand up to leave, the pain knocked him down again and he fell back into the pile of pillows on (Y/N)’s bed with a grunt, the air sucked out of his lungs.

(Y/N) had burst into the room, an apron tied around her waist. When she saw him awake, tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away, one trembling hand covering her mouth.

“(Y/N),” Peter breathed out, still struggling to catch some air. “I can explain…”

               She didn’t let him. Instead, she lurched forward and threw her arms around him, crying into the crook of his neck. She tried not to hold him too tightly, but the relief was too great to just stand there.

“You could have told me, Peter,” she sobbed against his skin. She had undressed him to dress his wounds, Peter realized. “I was so scared, so scared…”

               Her entire body shook against his, and Peter could only wrap one arm around her while he supported himself with the other, but he too was relieved to see her. She knew the truth now, though he would rather she discovered it another way.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he apologized, planting a kiss on her temple. “I was going to tell you, I swear. This isn’t how you were supposed to find out.”

               They held each other for hours, quietly crying and whispering sweet nothings, until (Y/N) was all out of tears and Peter’s stomach began to grumble. He hadn’t eaten in two days after all, and he was in dire need of a shower and a warm meal. He promised to tell her everything over breakfast, and after he made a quick stop at the bathroom while (Y/N) prepared some eggs and bacon, he came out of her room, limping but very much alive, wearing the spare clothes he always left at her place.

               Those were the best scrambled eggs he had ever eaten.

 *

               Flash-forward three years, (Y/N) didn’t have to drag Peter’s limp body out of an alley and sneak him into her shared flat. A little over a year ago, when they graduated, they decided to try for a master’s degree too and moved in together.

               It wasn’t much, they basically lived on top of each other, but it was theirs – and neither of them really minded having to live on top of each other. Peter liked to think that if Tony was still alive and saw where he lived, he would forcefully drag him out, have the entire building demolished for not respecting the most basic health standards, and buy him his own private penthouse overlooking central park on fifth avenue.

               (Y/N) told Peter she would have personally overlooked the demolition, because this place was truly not sanitary in any way. Still, they made do, and after thoroughly cleaning, sweeping, scrubbing and swabbing, it started to look like a place human beings would live. It became their home.

               Peter waited until dusk to go on his daily patrols, so no one would spy Spider-Man lurking around their living-place. The last thing he wanted was for someone bearing ill-intentions to lay a hand on (Y/N) while he was gone.

“I can see you vibrating from here,” (Y/N) commented with a giggle, looking up from her manual and momentarily stopping scribbling down notes.

               She was sitting on the far end of the couch, legs tucked under her, while Peter was kneeling next to the window, already wearing his suit, though he still held his mask in his hand, and waiting for the moment the streetlights would turn on – his signal that it was dark enough to leave.

               When she spoke up, Peter froze and realized his left leg had been hopping nervously, and he was fidgeting.

“Can’t help it,” he said with an apologetic glance. (Y/N) only smiled in return. He knew she had trouble focusing on her work whenever he was in the same room, being a nervous wreck about one thing or another. “I hope I can find him tonight, before he makes more victims.”

               His gaze was trained on the streets down below, but he heard (Y/N) put down her pen and shut her book. A new villain had been terrorizing people around town, targeting small, family-owned businesses with no security, not even cameras. The police couldn’t find him because they had no idea who to look for, his identity remained a mystery, for all they knew he might not even work alone.

               Peter had almost tracked him down last week, but he managed to escape in the night, and had kept popping here and there to do his misdeeds every night since. Peter felt responsible and grew antsy knowing he was still out there. The other reason why no one knew what he looked like was because he never left survivors. The victims were found in truly gruesome conditions.

               Peter hadn’t seen for himself yet, but even the police reports sounded awful, and they always toned it down for the public and tried to keep everything objective. Reports talked about massacres. Blood everywhere.

“I know how much you want to catch him, Peter,” (Y/N) started, sighing deeply. She stood up and joined him by the window, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Please be very careful.” Her eyes glimmered with worry. “I don’t want to see your name in tomorrow’s headlines, understood?”

“I have to stop him, I’ll do whatever it takes,” he argued. “I should have caught him long ago, no one’s managed to elude me for so long. If only I knew how he always managed to disappear-“

“Peter!” (Y/N) cut him off. She knelt down to be at eye-level with him and took his chin between her fingers. “I’m afraid your eagerness will lead you to making a mistake. Be smart about this, don’t just rush into a fight and risk your life.”

“I risk my life every day, (Y/N), there’s nothing new about this,” he protested, shaking his head. “What’s the matter now? Why is this guy any different?”

“You know why,” she snapped, standing up again and crossing her arms. “I heard the reports too, Peter. You’re not the only one who can connect to the police frequency, I know what he did to those people. He’s a butcher.”

“Which is exactly why I need to stop him!” He didn’t see what (Y/N) expected him to do. “Who else is going to do it? The police are clueless, and I’m much stronger than them anyway.”

“But you’re not invincible!”

               It came from a good place, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now. Peter yanked his head back so (Y/N) would let go of him, and he turned away, making her sigh again. They rarely argued about anything, at least nothing of real importance. Sure they disagreed on stuff, like what movie to watch, whether to order Thai or Indian, what to get May for her birthday – but they always found common ground when it came to grave matters.

               (Y/N) always knew that Peter Parker would be the death of her, even before finding out about his double life. From the very first time he had laughed at one of her idiotic science puns, she had known. During their first tutorial class, the teacher had paired the students randomly together, and they had never again changed partners since.

               But having to watch him fly into the night, not knowing when, how, or if he was going to come back, was something (Y/N) never thought she would have to bear with. Most girls only had to worry about not being cheated on or keeping things spicy in the bedroom. (Y/N) had to worry about her boyfriend never coming home, about Peter going MIA. Each goodbye kiss could be the last, and she was aware of that, she made them all count.

               But not tonight.

“It’s time,” he said before she could go back on her words. She regretted them the moment they crossed her lips. The streetlights were on. “Don’t wait on me.”

               And just like that, he jumped out of the window, disappearing out of sight. (Y/N) leaned on the frame to see him off but he didn’t turn back at all. She couldn’t remember the last time they parted ways on such bad terms.

It was starting to rain, too.

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Comment if you wanna be tagged on part 2 :)

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

[valentines-in-london]

I Need Fire (Part 19)

Authors Note:  This week has been rough for me, and I’ve rewritten this chapter so many times I’ve lost count.  So I’m just going to go with it and post it… it’s pretty fluffy but I figure after the last few chapters we deserve it.  Please let me know what you think, you all make my sometimes shitty life a lot better! Word Count: 3,835 Warnings: smut, fluff Taglist:   @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro @lauravic @oh-well1 @la-sorciere-fleur @anxious-diabetic @xdeath-soulx @fanofnightz @songbirdkisses​ If you’d like to be added please let me know!

Previous Chapter  //  Master List  //  Next Chapter

Chapter 19

Rayne and Tommy at some point had showered and gotten dressed for the day between laughter and playful caresses.  Rayne was trying to pull the ingredients for the lasagna out of the fridge.  Tommy’s arms were wrapped around Rayne and his lips trailing sloppy kisses along her neck. “Tommy if you don’t stop I’m not going to be able to get anything done today.  Your parents and sister are going to be here soon.”

“They can’t get in if they don’t have a key.”  Tommy’s words were muffled against Rayne’s skin.

“Tommy I’m serious.”  Rayne giggled bumping Tommy away with her butt just as the doorbell rang. “See they’re here!  You’re not going to let them stand out there forever.”

“Okay I’ll let them in, but I’m doing it under protest.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, tonight.”  Rayne winked before shoving him off towards the direction of the front door. Tommy reluctantly turned on his heel and walked to let his parents in.  Rayne smiled when she heard Voula’s excited cry to see her son, followed by the voices of his father and sister.  Rayne turned when she heard their footsteps approaching the kitchen and living room.

“Rayne!  Come here.”  Voula gently commanded wrapping Rayne up in a tight embrace. “Oh it’s so good to see you dear.”

“It’s good to see you too.”  Rayne smiled at Tommy’s mother before moving to hug David and Athena as well.  “You both too.  Did you find the place okay?”

“Yes, we did. This house is great both of you.” David smiled at his son and Rayne before admiring the kitchen and what he could see of the back deck.

“Come on, I’ll give you guys the tour.  And you can put your stuff down in your rooms.”  Tommy happily invited his family to see the house.  Rayne welcomed the offer, it would actually give her time to start preparing everything.

“Rayne, do you need help with anything yet?”  Voula asked before accepting Tommy’s invite.

“No, please, keep him occupied.  If he keeps distracting me we’ll never eat.”  Rayne playfully chastised motioning with her hands for Tommy to get moving. She saw Athena’s eyes go right to her left hand and snap back up to Rayne and then back to Tommy.

“Alright then.” Voula smiled before Tommy led them off to show them the house.  In that time Rayne was able to prep the lasagna and start on the lunch she had prepared.  Honestly seven fish dishes was way too much for five people to eat for dinner so her grandma always incorporated a few into lunch that way the family was able to eat pasta and salad for dinner as well.  Rayne covered the lasagna with aluminum foil and set it aside in the fridge to be cooked the next day.  Speaking of the oven the ding signaled it’s readiness, and Rayne slid in the clams casino she had prepped earlier in the day.

Then she began getting everything ready to make the crab toast she planned on serving for lunch. Mixing together crab meat and various spices while waiting for a skillet to heat up on the stovetop to crisp pieces of toast.  By the time Tommy and his family made their way back to the kitchen Rayne was drizzling the crisp pieces of toast with olive oil before topping them off with crab meat and some aioli to the center.  Tommy’s dad took a deep breath in before exclaiming, “Oh wow that smells amazing!���

“Please help yourself.”  Rayne smiled shifting the serving plate onto the counter towards them.  “The clams casino will be ready in a few minutes.”

Everyone reached for a piece of toast taking their first bite.  Rayne could hear how crisp the toast was and when she heard the collective moans from them she knew they liked it.  Athena was the first to speak, “This is incredible Rayne.”

“Thank you.  I’m glad you like it.”  Rayne smiled appreciatively.  If she was confident in any skills to impress people it was her cooking, she knew she was a good cook.  The timer for the clams casino went off and she quickly removed them from the oven and placed them on another serving plate.

“Everything looks beautiful.”  Voula complimented the presentation.

“And the taste?” Rayne questioned.

“Oh that goes without saying, it’s delicious.”  Voula smiled as she finished her crab toast, before grabbing a plate to put some clams on.

“Does anyone want a glass of wine?”  Tommy questioned and everyone agreed.  Tommy poured everyone a glass of white wine.  When he handed Rayne her glass he saluted her before clinking their glasses together with a devious smile.

Athena couldn’t believe no one had noticed the rock on Rayne’s ring finger.  It was right in front of them.  She looked between both her oblivious parents before speaking, “Umm, mom?”

“What honey?” Voula asked Athena who’s eyes widened before nodding in Rayne’s direction.  When her parents still didn’t get the hint she leaned over the counter top and grabbed Rayne’s hand.  Voula’s eyes went wide and she let out a joyful cry when her eyes landed on the ring.  “Oh my god.  Oh my god!  Did it finally happen?”

“It happened about three hours ago.”  Rayne smiled as Tommy came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

“It was the perfect moment.”  Tommy said thoughtfully causing all the women in the room to sigh.  Voula and Athena both admired the sparkling ring.  

“Tommy it’s beautiful.”  Voula sighed looking at the ring, running her fingers along the band.

“Congratulations son.” David approached Tommy with an extended hand to shake which Tommy quickly took.  Tommy’s father then turned to Rayne and opened his arms to embrace her.  “Welcome to the family Rayne.  Although I knew you were family when we first met.”

“Thank you Mr. Lee.” Rayne smiled shyly.  She certainly was not used to being the center of all this attention.  Rayne chuckled before waving her hand in the air.  “Now everyone stop looking at me, you’re making me self conscious.”

“You better get used to everyone looking at you baby.  Because when we get married, it’s going to be the wedding of the century and all eyes will be on us.”  Tommy teased giving Rayne loud repetitive kisses on her cheek.

“God you’re so obnoxious.”  Rayne laughed before she grabbed a piece of toast for herself.  “Go and clean the dishes for me.”

Tommy quickly stopped, “Yes ma’am.”

“You do have some magic power, I could never get him to do the dishes.”  Voula shook her head before standing up from the high back chair.  “Now what can I help with?  I’m not going to let you prepare dinner alone.”

“I promise nothing is very complicated.”  Rayne smiled pulling out the hand written recipes she was planning on making.  

“Well let’s get going.”  Voula smiled reaching for one of the recipes.

By six o’clock that night dinner was mostly ready.  Tommy helped Rayne set the table and Voula put various dishes down.  On the menu for dinner was lobster, fried scallops, mussels in a white wine sauce, a simple pasta with shrimp and then anchovy pasta with garlic bread crumbs.  It was a lot but that was the tradition.  

“Dinner is ready everyone.”  Rayne called out before putting the final touches on each plate.  

“This looks amazing Rayne, you are a natural born chef.”  David complimented taking a seat.

“I agree.”  Voula smiled.  Voula had been a great help to Rayne throughout the day but was not overbearing in anyway.  Rayne moved around the kitchen with ease but still wanted to impress Tommy’s mom with her cooking skills.  So to hear the compliment from her about the cooking made Rayne’s heart swell.

“Thank you.”  Rayne nodded her head, again feeling all eyes on her she quickly said, “Dig in everyone.”

“I’d like to say something first.”  Tommy spoke up.

“Tommy you already proposed to the girl.”  Athena teased.

“I know that doofer.”  Tommy rolled his eyes before grabbing his glass raising it up.  “I just want to say that there isn’t anyone else in the world I would rather spend the holidays with than those of you that are around this table right now.  And to my fiancé, I am proud of the traditions that we’ve created in our relationship thus far but I can not wait to see what the future holds for both of us.  I love you all, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  Everyone collectively spoke saluting and clinking their glasses together before digging into the food.  Rayne was proud of herself for not having cooked a full Christmas meal in years at how well everything turned out.  The pasta was perfectly al dente, the sauces were perfectly flavored and all the seafood was succulent.  Tommy’s family absolutely devoured everything, leaving the perfect amount of food for left overs to be taken home.

“Tommy if you weren’t already engaged to her, I would tell you to marry her.  No one that cooks that great should be unmarried.”  David kindly joked.

“oh please, you didn’t know mom was a good cook when you all got married.”  Tommy pointed out.

“I got lucky,” David chuckled.  “This is a sure thing.”

“I’m so full I think I’m in a food coma.”  Athena laughed.

“Me too.”  Rayne leaned back against the chair.  Tommy leaned over and gently kissed Rayne’s temple before grabbing his plate and collecting all other empty dishes bringing them to the kitchen sink.  Turning her head Rayne questioned, “Are you seriously doing the dishes?”  Tommy smiled and nodded.  “God I really do love you.”  Which received a laugh from everyone at the table.

In a way it was strange because it was all very domestic, which wasn’t really a normal feeling for Rayne and Tommy.  The couple did not lead an “average” life and all of this felt very “average” but it was wonderful.  It was extremely nice to have some sense of normalcy.

“So do you have any idea when you want the wedding to be?”  Voula asked eagerly.

“Mom!  I just popped the question a few hours ago.”  Tommy laughed as he soaped up the dirty dishes.

“I know, I know.  I’m just asking a question.”  Voula defended herself.  “Have you thought about it Rayne?”

“Not really, I mean Tommy did tell me he was going to marry me the day he left on his first tour so I probably should’ve thought about it more.  But I also thought it was just Tommy being Tommy and getting carried away.”  Rayne smiled.

“Did he tell you he had your ring custom made?”  Athena asked.

“What?  No.”  Rayne shook her head looking between the two Lee women who were more than eager to tell Rayne the whole backstory.  She couldn’t believe that Tommy had borrowed his mothers engagement ring on their first Christmas and he had been carrying around Rayne’s ring for so long.

“We couldn’t believe he hadn’t proposed to you yet.  Tommy’s not one for keeping secrets.”  Athena teased.

“Shut up spaz.  I can keep one when it’s important.”  Tommy rolled his eyes before walking into the living room looking through the VHS tapes under the television.  

“Babe you want me to pop the movie in?”

“Yes, please.”  Rayne smiled jumping up and making her way over to the couch.

“What movie?”  Voula asked.

“Every year on Christmas Eve I watch Pride & Prejudice.  I made Tommy watch it with me last year and somehow he’s still with me.”  Rayne said happily as Tommy joined her on the couch.

“I’m a little tired David.  What do you say we go to bed?”  Voula questioned with a faux yawn.

“Oh, yeah.  Let’s do that.”  David caught onto his wife’s hint before seeing her shoot a look to Athena.

“What?  Why are we going up to our rooms?”  Athena asked.

“Let them have their traditions.  It’s their second Christmas together.”  Voula whispered before raising her voice slightly, “We’re going to go to bed you two.  We’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright mom.”  Tommy called.

“If anything isn’t in your room that you need just let me know.”  Rayne turned to them before nuzzling against Tommy. Rayne and Tommy stayed curled up together on the couch until the movie came to an end.  Tommy was the first to get up off of the couch to rewind the VHS tape before turning the television off.  “You ready for bed baby?”

Rayne moaned and stretched from her position on the couch.  “I am, but I’m not ready to sleep.”

Tommy’s face quickly broke into a grin before he reached his hand out to help Rayne up from the couch.  As soon as she stood up she lifted up onto the tips of her toes to kiss him.  Tommy wrapped his arms around Rayne pulling her flush against him which allowed her to feel his already hard bulge against her stomach.  “Mmm, someone’s missed me.”

“More than you could ever know.”  Tommy whispered against her lips before he quickly pulled Rayne towards the stairs.  Rayne happily followed him up, once they finally entered their bedroom Tommy shut the door and pressed Rayne up against it, kissing her once more.  Rayne let out a muffled moan as Tommy began to unbutton Rayne’s shirt and slip it over her shoulders kissing her bare flesh.  

“I’m gonna savor every inch of you tonight baby.”

“I like the sound of that.”  Rayne giggled before she also unbuttoned Tommy’s dress shirt.  Once he was naked from the waist up Rayne began to work on his jeans before she dropped to her knees.  “I look forward to returning the favor.”

“Oh no no no, tonight is all about you baby.”  Tommy pulled Rayne up to her feet.

“When is sex ever not about me?”  Rayne purred nuzzling her nose against Tommy’s.

“Get your sexy ass up on the bed.”  Tommy smirked before giving Rayne a loud smack on the ass.  She quickly made her way to the bed crawling into the center of the mattress.  Tommy followed suit crawling on top of Rayne and kissing her once more, Rayne’s hands instinctively going to Tommy’s back.  Tommy’s left hand trailed down Rayne’s sides around the curves of her body until he was able to hook his thumb around the band of Rayne’s lace panties to slowly drag them down her long legs.  Rayne rolled her hips against Tommy mewling as she got the friction she was looking for causing Tommy to place his finger over her lips.  

“Shh, remember my parents are down the hall.”  With a wicked smile Rayne wrapped her lips around Tommy’s finger seductively sucking on it.  She thought back to when she said she wouldn’t have sex with Tommy under his parents roof, and that threat was quickly blown to hell.  

“I’ll try to keep it down.”

“I’ll try to make it hard for you to do that.”  Tommy grinned lowering his fingers onto Rayne’s clit causing her to arch her back into him.  Tommy couldn’t help but smile when he felt the pool of wetness between her legs.  

Tommy repeated Rayne’s comment from earlier, “Mmm, it looks like someone’s missed me.”

“More than you know.”  Rayne smiled as Tommy slowly inserted two fingers into Rayne’s wet core.  She gasped at the sensation.  

“Oh fffuck Tommy.”

Tommy went still, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”   She felt him start to pull his fingers out and quickly wrapped her hand around his arm to stop him.  It had been almost a month of absolutely no sexual activity not on her own or with Tommy.  She and Tommy’s relationship was built on a lot more than sex but there was no denying that sex was a big part of the relationship and a month without it on some level was like a month of not communicating.  At this point Rayne knew Tommy’s body as well as her own and vice versa.  

Furiously she shook her head, “No.  Please don’t stop.”

Leaning his head down to kiss her hip Tommy grinned curling his finger ever so slightly picking up his motions, “As you wish.”

When Rayne opened her eyes she looked up at the mirror above the bed, seeing exactly why Tommy was so adamant about having a mirror in that particular spot.  She saw her curly hair tousled on the mattress, her breasts bouncing from Tommy’s motions, Tommy’s thick head of hair buried between her spread legs.  Tommy’s tongue gave another lazy lick to Rayne’s slit gently sucking on her clit.  “Tommy fuck I’m gonna cum.  Don’t stop!  Don’t stop!  Don’t stop!!” Rayne arched her back as she heard the familiar sound of Tommy’s fingers moving in and out of her soaked core.  She reached for the peak of pleasure and Tommy happily gave it to her.  Rayne did all she could to stifle her cry while Tommy kept his motions up until her shakes stopped.  

Once she finally did he kissed his way up her body until his head could rest on her breasts.  “I’ve missed those sounds.”

“Mmm…” Rayne could only make sounds at that moment in time.  Smiling, Tommy reached into the nightstand drawer next to the bed and grabbed a condom.  Rayne lazily dragged her nails up and down Tommy’s back placing soft kisses on his shoulder.  

Tommy made quick work on the wrapper before rolling it onto his cock and slowly inching inside Rayne.  She reached up and buried her fingers in his thick mass of hair pulling him down to kiss her.

Tommy’s movements were deliberate and slow.  It was as if he was savoring every moment.  Their mouths moved together in the same rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts.  Rayne gently bit at Tommy’s bottom lip before he dipped his head to her neck to suck and kiss on the skin there.

Rayne had never been a fan of the term “making love,” it always sounded a bit cheesy to her.  But that was exactly what this was.  It was like after being emotionally apart for almost an entire month, they were finding their way back to each other, discovering the other once more.  It was an emotional experience, Rayne felt on fire in the best way, but at the same time tears stung her eyes from the emotions stirring inside her.

It was as if the two of them were on a slow climbing rollercoaster patiently approaching the peak before utter ecstasy.  Rayne arched her back in pleasure as Tommy slid his hand down her arm and intertwining their fingers together as they both reached their climax at the same time.  Shifting his body weight off Rayne, Tommy laid his head on the pillow next to hers, turning his head to place soft kisses along her jawline to her tear stained cheeks, whispering “I love you” with each kiss.

“I love you too Tommy.”  Rayne whispered before she curled against him in their warm bed.  Once again Tommy laced their fingers together, toying with the engagement ring on her finger.  "Forever.“

The next morning Rayne woke Tommy up with a Christmas morning blow job.  He was happy to say the least, the two then hopped in the shower to get ready for the day.  Tommy hopped in first but Rayne hung behind, grabbing Tommy’s Polaroid camera. She whistled to him and he turned around with a smile on his face, the perfect photo for Rayne.  "Hey!”

“You took a picture of me after we fucked for the first time, I think we’re even.  Plus your non existent tush is cute.”  Rayne smiled before setting the camera and photo down on the dresser in their bedroom.  The water was nice and warm once she got into the shower.

“Not all of us can have a luscious ass like you babe.”  Tommy grinned down at her grabbing a handful of her ass.

“Don’t try to butter me up.”  Rayne chuckled before reading for a shower poof and shower gel.  Working the poof into a larger Rayne began washing Tommy’s body.

“Last night was incredible baby.”  Tommy whispered kissing Rayne’s forehead.  Taking the poof from her to start washing Rayne.

“That was probably the most intimate sex I’ve ever had in my life.” Rayne smiled up at Tommy.  "I’ve never felt that connected to anyone ever.“

"I aim to please.  And the feeling is mutual baby.” Tommy grinned leaning down to kiss Rayne.  It probably would’ve continued further if not for the loud banging on their bedroom door.

“Tommy!  Rayne!  Mom’s making breakfast. Hurry up.”  Athena’s voice echoed through the bathroom.

Sighing Rayne put her arms around Tommy.  "It’s probably for the best. Besides I want to open up my presents.“

They both rinsed off the remaining soap off their bodies and jumped out of the shower wrapping themselves up in towels.  Rayne walked into the closet and picked something to wear. As soon as she did she dropped her towel. "Rayne?”

She didn’t do anything but slightly turn her head when she heard the sound of the Polaroid go off.  Laughing she pulled a pair of leather pants with a loose fitting blouse on. “You’re a little shit you know that?”

“I want to take actual photos of you one day.”  Tommy said buttoning up his shirt.  "Not just Polaroids, real photographs"

“Well it’s good to have dreams baby.”  Rayne patted Tommy on the chest before turning away from him opening their bedroom door.  She exasperatedly turned to Tommy.  "Come on Tommy. Your mom is making breakfast.“

The rest of the day was perfect absolutely everything Rayne could want from her first time hosting Christmas.  Voula made a delicious breakfast before everyone opened their individual gifts. Some gift high points were Rayne getting Tommy a professional camera.  Tommy paying off his mother and fathers house. Tommy booking a trip to Mexico for him and Rayne before the band went back into the studio and before her runway show.  

For dinner they feasted on ham, lasagna, meatballs, mashed potatoes, garlic bread and salad.  After dinner was finished and coffee was drank Tommy’s family headed back to Covina with plenty of left overs.  Tommy and Rayne ended their night outside on the back patio in a lounge chair with a fire blazing in their firepit to keep them warm.  "Another successful Christmas in the books.”

“Successful but also stressful.  I’ve never cooked for that many people.” Rayne leaned her back against Tommy’s chest.

“You did great baby.”  Tommy wrapped his arms around her.  "I think my entire family wants to marry you after trying your lasagna tonight.“

"Well lucky for them I’m marrying their son.”

“And lucky for me.”  Tommy smiled.

“How about you get that camera out and make your statement earlier about photographing me a reality?”

“Will you get naked?”  Tommy asked excitedly causing Rayne to bat her eyelashes.

“I’ll do whatever the photographer wants.”  Rayne winked.  "You’re the only one that’ll hear me say that.“

"Damn right!”  Tommy happily said before running into the house to grab his new camera and a few other things to photograph Rayne with.  He had so many ideas they’d be up til the sun rose if he had his way.

Take me to the next chapter....

—–

There you have it!  Like I said this chapter gave me fits so I hope you enjoy it.  All feedback is appreciated.  Love you all!!

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

Sunflower Dreams | pt I

Aaron Davis (Spiderverse) x Reader

word count: 1757 (or about that, I made some tweaks after I copy pasted it here so uh.... rough guestimate?)

summary: when young and educated y/n’s given the opportunity of a lifetime, she plans accordingly. her life is finally starting to be perfect, until suddenly, it’s not anymore. her friendly neighborhood bachelor, Aaron Davis, helps her pick up the pieces, as she unknowingly makes him see that there’s more to life than being a villain.

a/n: I decided to write this story bc Aaron Davis gets no love, which is crazy to me, and because I had a little idea cooking up in my head that I thought would be a good story. I took a lot of inspiration for the protagonist from my own life, but you’re only gonna hear slivers of it for now. I have no idea how many chapters this is gonna be, but like. I hope someone enjoys this, bc I know I will enjoy writing it. also. I wrote this story from my perspective, so when I imagine the reader, I envision her as kinda ambiguous in the ethnic department (I’m mixed but white-presenting), but she can be whatever ya’ll want her to be. lightskin, darkskin, anything. okay. Imma let ya’ll read now haha jk I also gotta say, HELL YEA I USED TREVANTE RHODES AS MY PERSONAL FANCAST FOR AARON DAVIS, THAT MAN IS FWOINE AIN’T NOBODY FINNA TELL ME ANY DIFFERENT FUCK OUTTA HERE

    I didn’t make a big deal about moving to New York to pursue my Masters. Already had my Bachelors in Business Administration with a minor in Fine Arts, just got my Bachelors in Education, and now I was ready to chase after my Masters. It only made sense to take the opportunity. How often are you gonna be offered a full ride in exchange for opening your own business in Brooklyn upon graduation, with the funding necessary to do so? Once it took off, I’d return to Tacoma and pay the city my gratitude for making me who I was.

     As I was saying, it was a quiet departure. Thank God I’m a minimalist, otherwise I would’ve had a LOT more items to bring with me. My boyfriend and I packed all my belongings and made the trek across the US after saying goodbye to my family and friends. He was driving. We held hands all the way there. Sometimes speaking, sometimes not.

     When we got to my new home, I already had a parcel of mail waiting for me from my university. After we took up the first load, we sat down on my empty floor and opened it. It welcomed me home and had a map, coffee shops and fun places circled for me to go visit. It was sweet.

     By noon we had everything in my unit thanks to a friendly neighbor named Aaron Davis and his nephew, a funny kiddo named Miles who reminded me of why I came to New York in the first place, and by the evening we had everything unpacked. We walked to a Starbucks and had coffee and sandwiches, now sitting on my bed with our stomachs full. The window was open, the faint beeps and honks of traffic coming from far below.

     We curled up into each other. “I fucking hate this,” I said. “It’s not fair.”

     “I know. I do too. And you know I would stay here with you if I could, but I’m still having no luck finding a job here.”

     “Fuck finding a job, I’ll be the breadwinner of the family,” I laughed, even though I was serious. He knew I was.

     “I can’t burden you like that financially. I promise, as soon as I land an interview, you’re gonna be the first to know. And as soon as I get hired, I’m showing up on your doorstep.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t say it near enough, but I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

     “I love you too. And thank you. It’s like, my entire life is falling perfectly into place, all but- well- except for you.”

     “We’ll get there, I promise. For now, just finesse every man or woman here who will buy you dinner, and try to have fun.” He rubbed my back, continuing, “You’ve never dated anyone but me, so... take it as your opportunity to learn about what you like, and once we’re together again, we can find a way to fit any new and quirky tastes you find you have into the relationship. But-“ His hand moved down quick and slapped my ass, squeezing it and illiciting an ‘ow’ of protest from me- “This is still mine, so no fucking, or else I’ll be doing more beating than just beating that pussy up.”

     I laughed and said, “You fuckin’ freak.”

     “Yea, but you like that shit.” He said confidently.

     “Shut the fuck up, why you gotta be so loud about what we do when the window’s open?” I gave him a light punch, then whispered in his ear, “But aye, like, I won’t deny it.”

     “Good, because that would’ve been real awkward after I’ve been in them guts for four years straight.” Then he lowered his voice. “Speaking of which, I’m trynna be in them once more tonight and tomorrow morning.”

     “I dOn’T hAvE aS HiGh Of A sEx dRiVe As YoU!” I mocked him in my best Spongebob voice. “Always lyin for why?”

     He pulled me on top of him and kissed me, his way of telling me to shut up nicely. “Shhhh, I’m just trynna make the most of the time we have left before I have to go back to Tacoma.”

     “But you don’t have to go,” I said, “You can stay here-“

     He cut me off with a series of kisses, “I already-“ “-bought-“ “-the tickets-“ “-so I actually do kinda have to.” He wrapped his arms around me, petting my hair. He always said I had the softest curls he’d ever touched.

     “I just wish you could stay,” I whispered. “We’ve already made it through so much, each of us on our own and then together, I just-“ I cut myself off. The tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “-I just-“

     “Baby, say it. If your overthinker brain is gonna torture you with this, I wanna hear it so I can put those thoughts to rest.”

     “I just keep thinking that something’s gonna happen to you and I’m gonna lose you. The very idea of that terrifies me, and makes me want to weep-“ I go cross eyed as I watch a tear fall from my eye and trail down my nose- “-because I don’t know how to live without you. And I mean that in a couple ways.”

     “Well... I’m not leaving you forever. I’m coming back here as soon as possible, I’m gonna talk to you on Discord every chance I get, I’m gonna call you every day,  and I’m gonna go to sleep every night dreaming that I’m here with you. For all we know, I could be coming back here in less than a month.” He tilted my chin up to look in my eyes. “Even if I’m not physically present, I’m always gonna be here. You’re never alone.”

     “I love you.”

     “I love you too.”

     In the morning, we slept in late and cuddled until he absolutely had to get up. We both hopped in the shower and he put on his airport clothes while I pulled on a pale, lemon yellow sweatsuit with a white gold chain to match. Gotta let these hoes know, I outdress them even on my bummy days.

     The ride to the airport was a back and forth between us kissing at red lights and screaming out different lyrics from XXXTentacion, Post Malone, JUICE WRLD and whoever the hell else we felt like listening to as we drove, much like we did since the beginning of our relationship.

     When we got there, we took our time saying goodbye since he didn’t have to stress too much about baggage check. We said we loved each other, once I couldn’t see him anymore I called him and we talked while I drove back to my new home and he waited for his flight, and then he was called to board so we got off the phone, but not before he promised me that he would call me as soon as he landed.

     When I got home, I stopped by the mailbox to see if I had anymore mail and simultaneously checked my Instagram, seeing a flurry of notifications. Suddenly, his mom called me.

     “Hi mom, what’s up? Are you okay?” I said as I scrolled through my Instagram, trying to make sense of all the digital confusion.

     She sniffled.

     “Mom, what happened?”

     “Check the news, babygirl... have you not seen it yet?”

     “Uh, no, I haven’t, but I’ll check it out right now,” I said, putting her on speakerphone.

     She started sobbing, saying “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called you like this, but I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

     And that’s when I saw my worst fears in a news article:

NYC - Sea Bound Plane Crashes, No Survivors

A horrific accident has happened today, and experts are still struggling to find out how - a plane headed to Seattle malfunctioned mid-flight, claiming the lives of everyone on board. Many of the victims have already been identified by their families, not by looks, but by the identification on their bodies at the time of the incident. Below this article are photos of the bodies. If you think you can identify one of them, contact...

     I couldn’t finish reading. I scrolled and saw the bodies, all of them mangled and torn apart, almost unrecognizable as humans. Hearing his mom say ‘he’s dead’ over and over again as I stared at the pictures made me lose my stomach.

     Up came all of my breakfast, and whatever Starbucks I hadn’t yet digested from the night before.

     “Mama, I love you, but I have to call you back later-“ a pause as I threw up again. “I’m physically sick. I’m so sorry,” I sobbed the last sentence, and after hearing a teary goodbye from the other end, hung up. I’d dropped my mail the first time and only now noticed that it was covered in my mess. I didn’t care. I started crying, which was a mistake, because it only made me throw up more, this time nothing but bile.

     “Hey, are you okay?” I whipped around, facing Aaron Davis, the friendly man from the day before.

     “I- I’m sick.” I said, and immediately burst into tears. “Please help me.” Those three words rarely ever left my mouth, but even I know when I can’t do something on my own. He put his keys in his pocket and reached out to me.

     Mere minutes later, I was in my unit, crouched over the toilet, heaving. Aaron had guided me there, holding my hair out of my face as I continued to puke. He called management and told them what happened, and he told me they were already cleaning it up.

     “Listen... I know it’s not my place to say anything, seeing as I’m just your neighbor, but...” He rubbed the back of his neck as he was crouched beside me. “I overheard the phone call. And I overheard the conversation you had with your boyfriend last night. He loved you.”

     “I know he did.” I said, because it was true.

     “I just... look, if you need anything, I’m here. I know you‘re hurting a lot right now, and I know you may want nothing but for everyone to leave you alone, especially the new dude who isn’t minding his business, but if you need anything, I’m here. And Imma check up on you. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

     I laughed, but it held no real warmth. “He said that last part to me yesterday night.”

     “He was right. And still is.”

[arlandvery]

Alabaster Stones (Come and Lay Your Bones) Chapter 1

So this was a thing I came up with purely because I love a/b/o and harem/concubine fics but I never find any of the latter, let alone the both in the same fic. So, you know how it goes, if you can’t find it, write it yourself!

Honestly this wouldn’t have been a thing if not for @veninos-posion, who, again, is kind enough to listen to me ramble and not get spooked, but also talks my ideas out with me and offers suggestions. You rock, Veninos!

I’m doing a new thing for me and posting all the chapters separately, but I will go back and link everything from fic to fic, and update my masterlist, so we’re cool there! It’s also on ao3 here

tw: this chapter has very explicit sex and mentions of abortion via moon tea, post heat. It’s not graphic, but it does upset her.

Tomura’s lab was dark and warm. He preferred to keep it that way- often the powders and potions and spells that were stored, being worked on, or brewed there were light sensitive, and so there were no windows and the barest of candles needed to work by. Colored smoke hung in the air the color of crushed grass, lights sparking inside it, crackling like sparks.

Tomura himself sat at his worktable, fingers stained with chalk and blood, the ritual circle drawn out with its familiar shapes and arcane lettering. Sitting inside the innermost circle was a skull, with four of his fingers pressed around it. The skull was a morbid work of art; it had begun as the skull of a virgin, the seventh daughter or a seventh daughter, killed on a full moon on her seventh birthday. Tomura himself had then stripped, cleaned and bleached it to it’s current horrifying white, then infused it with veins of gold. Its eye sockets were fitted with carved amber in a mockery of eyes, and inside of the dome were arcane symbols pressed with obsidian.

The project had taken weeks, his first major work of magic, and it was his most valuable tool- with the proper precautions and spell work Tomura could look through it’s eyes and see anything he wanted. It was a tool that Tomura often made use of- sometimes at the behest of his master. Other times he wanted to see for himself.

Tonight was one of those times.

Red eyes stared unblinkingly at the amber, mouth cracked and split and sealed in a firm line.

The suite afforded to the Emperor’s favored omega were lush and soft. Tomura had intimate knowledge of the harem and its décor; those rooms were so opulent it was disgusting, costly beautiful fabrics, gleaming furniture, carved inlets. These rooms…these rooms were so lovely they nearly didn’t look real. These rooms, meant for the mother of the heir, for the favored concubine, had been made beautiful and further infused with magic. Lights floated around the nest- and oh, the nest! Cushions and blankets and sheets and the Emperor’s best clothes coated in his scent, woven and blended together to her comfort. The bath was charmed to keep the water heated, and there were dozens of other superficial charms and spells for comfort and pleasure of the omega. A songbird in an elaborate cage flitted about, singing it’s song, feathers glittering like jewels in the light, books were tucked in cozy corners, a basket for sewing…anyone would kill to have a room so lovely.

But Tomura wasn’t watching the room.

Instead he watched the bodies writhing together, crimson eyes wide and unblinking.

Sensei and his favorite omega twined together during the throes of her heat. Tomura watched with bated breath as she bared her neck for him, he could see the golden collar around her neck, gleaming, preventing a mating mark. Sensei’s hips rocked with enough force that it shook her body, her mouth open in a silent wail, eyes sightless in pleasure in want.

“Please, alpha, alpha I need it, need you,” She begged, her voice hollow through the magic he was using.

“Do you, omega? Are you going to be good for me? Take my seed, carry my pups?” Tomura’s chest tightened at those words, at Sensei’s steady tone. He was so calm, unbothered, despite the omega being split open on his cock and begging for it. He’d seen alphas lose it over less than that.

She cried out at his words, nodded like a doll getting her string tugged. “Yes! Yes alpha, yes, I want them- I want your pups, please let me-” She looked so desperate, skin flushed and sweaty. The room would be soaked with her pheromones by now, dripping with it. They’d been at it for hours now- the smell of sugar and vanilla would be enough to choke a lower alpha.

Tomura swallowed audibly, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Sweat beaded on his skin. He felt filthy watching this, but he was helpless to stop it.

“You’ll get them,” Sensei promised, pausing, ignoring her wailing in distress to pat at her cheek. “You’ve been such a good omega; you always have been.” He resumed fucking her, going straight back to the brutal pace he’s begun with. “I’ll fill you, mark you forever, just for me. Gonna grow fat with my pups, little alphas, all of them. They’ll lead armies and expand the empire, the perfect legacy,” those promises meant nothing to her. All she heard was the promise of young, of fulfilling her duty. Pups she could dote on and nurture.

His heart pounded, imagining the scent of her, the sensation of her flesh, her cunt. The taste of her tears, the sting of her nails digging into him. Those sweet pleas, all for him. She’d be the jewel of his kingdom, he’d mark her, make her his wife, not just the favored omega- he’d never leave her uncertain like that. He’d fill her, she’d never not be pregnant, never be empty again, heat or no heat.

Sensei grunted, stuttering to a stop, signaling that he’d locked in with his knot. Tomura looked away, chest heaving in want. He was so hard it fucking hurt. He wanted to do something about it, but that would man breaking the spell’s connection.

Tomura realized that he’d been grinding his teeth by the ache in his jaw and reluctantly loosened the clench. One day he’d grind his teeth into dust, he was sure, and then where would he be?

For 3 days Tomura ate nothing and drank little, keeping the connection open, forcing himself to watch as the heat roared and Sensei got creative, taunting and petting and mocking his pretty omega concubine.

Finally, when the heat burned out, she was curled at her alphas side, soft hands on him, thanking him for his generosity.

Sensei allowed her that, but soon he removed himself from the nest, ignoring her crestfallen face. He made tea in the fireplace, ignoring her growing misery as he boiled the herb and finally poured it into a tea cup for her.

“Drink up, my dear.” He smiled cheerfully, holding out the cup, as though this were any other act. An alpha treating his omega. She stared at it, eyes empty, before daring a look up at him.

Her voice was soft, pleading. Tomura was willing to bet that her scent had changed, trying to wheedle what she wanted from Sensei. It wouldn’t work. This happened every time. “Please alpha, you promised me…”

“I decide what happens to you, pet. Now, drink your tea and speak no more.” She shuddered, staring at the foul smelling, evil concoction.

“I…but my purpose…”

“Is to pleasure me. You are my concubine. Of course, should you wish to have pups, Tomura’s position would be a lot less clear, wouldn’t it? Against a flesh and blood heir, well, he might be dismissed.” Without another word, the omega drank her tea, tears marring her face.

There was a sour taste in Tomura’s mouth. Was it blood or bile?

“Good girl.” Sensei patted her head and left her alone in her empty nest, body betraying her by her alpha’s order.

Tomura was the only witness as she curled into herself and cried silently, hands on her abdomen. There might be a pup there or there might not be. The potion was still painful.

“Mother,” he whispered, finally releasing the spell.

Tomura bathed after it was over, then he collapsed in his bed. The young alpha slept for nearly 2 days before his body demanded food and he was forced to dress and join Sensei for dinner, something that the older man had always insisted on.

“You might not be blood, my boy, but you are my son. And fathers and sons should at least share one meal a day.” He’d said when they’d started this tradition.

Of course, Tomura had been much younger. He hadn’t even been Tomura yet.

Tenko

Just the name was enough to make him shake with hardly restrained rage.

Darkness-the chains-noxious smells and filth-so much pain he was so scared he didn’t mean to do it please let me out let me out let me out stop hurting me let me out

But Sensei came and gave him a new name, brought him home, made him a family. It was thanks to Sensei that Tomura was as strong as he was, that his powers were in control. But in exchange, Sensei had asked for and tested Tomura’s loyalty. He challenged him, remade him into something better.

Sitting with the man though, still smelling like Mother and knowing how it made Tomura twist up in knots inside, was always the hardest thing to do. It was Sensei’s measure of his self-control- if the young alpha could refrain from attacking him in such a state, he proved his status and his control over his own instincts. The knowledge of the test never made it any easier.

“Did you witness anything interesting, Tomura?” Sensei asked, sipping his wine. His lips were twisted in a semblance of a smile.

“Not really. The maid is fucking the stable boy.” He shrugged. Little details like that meant next to nothing to Tomura, but Sensei found gossip invaluable. Often there was some kind of truth in gossip, and Tomura could witness that truth with his own eyes. An empire was built on more than blood and fire; secrets, bribery and blackmail had their place in it’s construction and keep, and Tomura was good at finding them.

“Is that all? Nothing from the kingdom to the south? From Yagi, even?” Ah, the famous attempted usurper and rebellion leader, of course things would circle back to him.

Tomura shook his head. “I don’t know where he is, no one’s set eyes on him, Sensei.” Not even Tomura himself, which was the real trick of the spell. So long as Tomura had seen them he could find them; could watch them or use them to see more.

It was because of that spell that Sensei had brought him along everywhere in the kingdom, in an effort to spread the spell’s limits. He’d met delegations, kings, queens and consorts all, beggars and thieves and merchants. But not Yagi.

Sensei made a disappointed noise and shook his head. “Slimy bastard. He’s planning something, I know it.” Tomura ate his dinner, watching his master. One hand came up to dig uselessly at his neck. The sting was grounding, kept him focused. It took conscious effort to pull his hand away again as the skin became raw beneath his scratching.

“Tenko dear, you’re hurting yourself.”

He twitched, hand dropping back into his lap at the ghost of her voice.

“How are your studies coming? I’ve heard that your swordsmanship has been slipping in my absence.”

“I was tired. I’m fine now.” The knowing glow in Sensei’s eyes said it all.

“Are you, Tomura? Were you having trouble sleeping?”

“No. I just wasn’t resting well.”

“You know, my boy, at your age, it’s normal to have desires. Urges. As an alpha you’re going to have to learn to burn off some of that energy.” Disgust roiled in Tomura’s belly.

“I know.”

“The harem is there for a purpose, my son. You are the heir, you have access to it.”

But not yours.

“I know, Sensei. You’re too generous.”

“It’s my duty as your patron to see to it that you are healthy and happy. Are you happy, Tomura?”

Tomura remembered hunger and fear and weakness. He remembered pain. He remembered the blinding sun and arms wrapping around him as he cried. Arms that brought him to the palace and educated him, made him stronger, gave him a home.

Gave him a mother.

“Yes, I’m happy.” When he thought of what had been before…why wouldn’t he be happy?

Chapter 2

Chapter 3