#I ship at work so shipping at work and at home full time was exhausting haha

[seeingteacupsindragons]

The Use of the Heart

Good evening, followers! I've got a new story for y'all. ~9.8k words. Yeah, this one's long. If you'd like to toss me a tip for it, you can drop one on my ko-fi page here. It...did take me three weeks to write this one.

Avery hadn’t gotten more than a foot out of the carriage after his sister before she was whisked away to meet her new husband. He stumbled the rest of the way out onto the stone courtyard and nearly fell on his face. “Wai—”

He bit his tongue before he could finish the protest. They were here so Lisette could meet her new husband. If the crown prince wanted to meet her fresh off the ship that had brought them here, smelling like dead fish and stale sweat from not being able to properly bathe for two weeks, then…

Then, well, at least all the treaties were already signed in case he changed his mind.

Avery righted himself. The handful of attendants Lisette had brought with her were already busy unloading her trunks and consulting with people he didn’t recognize—probably their counterparts in Alham. They would know where he was meant to go.

He made a beeline for Robin, the woman in charge of his sister’s affairs, who was blushing and smiling at a man with dark hair and neat, plain clothes in the dark blue that was Alham’s royal colors. Someone who worked for Lisette’s new husband, maybe. He pointed Robin off, and Avery immediately took her place. “Hello. I was hoping you could help me.”

The man gave him a once over that no one had ever given Avery before, then said, “With what exactly?”

“I’ve just arrived with the rest of the contingent from Ensheren. I was hoping you knew where to steer me.”

“You don’t already know what you should be doing?”

Avery’s face turned an unflattering shade of pink at the incredulity in his voice. “I’m only here to keep my sister company and help her settle into her new home. Unfortunately, as she’s already been escorted off without me to see her new husband, I’m at loose ends in the meantime. You could tell me where her rooms are and I can start there.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Siste—Ensheren sent one of its princes? Your Highness, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t told you were coming.”

Avery’s heel dug into the stone under the sole of his boot, twisting anxiously. He was too tired to deal with this. “Not one of the important ones, I’m afraid. After you’ve had your heir, your spare, your backup spare, one to handle the people, and one to handle the military, you run out of things to do with princes.”

One dark eyebrow went up. “Your parents had quite a few children.”

“They were hoping for Lisette after the second set of twins,” Avery said. “My name is Avery. And I really am here to help my sister adjust. If you could tell me where her rooms are, that would be a good start. I can help set it up for her before she returns.”

The man stared at him quietly for another long moment before saying, “Your Highness…I apologize for the bluntness, but you look like you’re about to keel over. I don’t think you’ll be much help with anything your sister needs. Give me a moment to settle things here.” He reached out and steadied Avery’s arm, and Avery was startled to find he’d been listing to one side. “You’ll be okay to wait?”

Avery nodded, and shook himself to wake up a bit more. It had taken him the entire two weeks to stop vomiting over the edge of the ship, just in time to land and find his legs wobbly again.

The man frowned at him, but let go and turned away to speak to some of the others bustling back and forth over the courtyard while Avery tried to gain his footing. He hadn’t felt so bad sitting in the carriage, but now that he was standing in full sun without Lisette, his vision was starting to blur with exhaustion.

Fortunately, his guide was back before Avery could do something stupid, like pass out on the stone in front of everyone. And he frowned the second he saw Avery. “Would you like an arm?”

Avery paused for a second. Then he said, “Yes. Please. Thank you. Whatever accepts the offer fastest.”

The man laughed, warm and full and genuine, then took Avery’s bag from him and wrapped an arm around Avery’s ribs. Avery tilted his head against the man’s shoulder and let him lead him into the—castle? Palace? Avery wasn’t sure. But it was less of a fortress than Ensheren’s royal residences. A good place for his sister to call home.

Inside was cooler, and Avery felt better immediately. His guide shifted his arm so at least a quarter of Avery’s weight was resting on his shoulder, and Avery let his settle against it, too. It was the first time since he’d gotten on that damn boat that he felt stable and his stomach stopped churning. But maybe that was because his guide smelled soothing and warm, like ginger cookies, or…or cinnamon. Whatever it was, Avery’s stomach stopped rolling over.

He managed to lift his head enough to look around as his guide practically dragged him through the polished hallways. He didn’t absorb most of it—just the impression of dark wood panels, wide windows letting in bright sunlight, and sculptures and paintings at every intersection. They passed through a set of heavy double doors in carved wood, and then into a smaller door down the hallway from that, and his guide let him go to stand on his own again.

They were in private chambers. Empty ones. Two doors were set against the far wall, and another one to Avery’s left. Between them were three couches and two armchairs, and one large table.

“These are my rooms,” his guide said. “You can bathe here and then take a nap while we wait for your sister and Kavi to come up for air and remember anyone else exists.”

“Kavi?” Avery asked.

“My brother,” his guide said. “Your sister’s new husband.”

“Your—your brother?”

His guide smiled at him. “My brother.”

The floor felt closer than it should have. “King Solon,” Avery said. “I—I’m sorry, Your Majesty. No one ever told me what you looked like.”

“I’d gathered,” the king said. “And no one told me you were coming. We’ll just have to both forgive each other. The bath is over here. I’ll find something for you to wear and I’ll put it in the dressing room.”

He left Avery alone in an alcove off of a bathing room with a bench. Avery sat down abruptly and pressed his face into his hands. He’d spent at least fifteen minutes using the king of a foreign country—the one Lisette’s fate was in the hands of—as a crutch.

While smelling like a cheap fishmonger who didn’t know what hygiene was.

What a wonderful first impression Ensheren was making on their new allies.

~~~~~~~~

The bath was large enough for Avery to stretch out in and had taps that ran fresh hot water. He slid in with a sigh and opened the jars next to him, looking for shampoo and soap. The first one had the same strong ginger scent the king had when—

When Avery had practically shoved his nose into his neck.

His face went red, and it wasn’t from the steam of the bath water.

The bottle was thin oil, though, not proper soap or shampoo. Avery left it open to scent the air while he cleaned up, and it was thick and heady in the bathroom by the time he felt properly clean and presentable The king—or someone who worked for him—had left clean clothes in the sitting room on the bench. They weren’t from his luggage, but if he didn’t have a room, no one would have unpacked his things, either. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, then pulled them on.

Soft pants, longer socks than Avery was used to, a shirt in a pale goldenrod color, and a dark blue tunic to go over it. He fiddled with the laces, unsure how tight Alham expected people to wear their clothing. Ensheren usually wore things closely fitted.

He tightened the waist in and tucked the extra lacing inside to hide it. Might as well remind the king he was from a foreign country. Maybe it would give him some grace for treating him like a walking stick.

His face flushed again at the memory, and he fiddled with his boots, waiting for the blush to fade before he stepped back into the sitting room.

The king was curled at a desk near one of the wide windows, feet tucked next to his legs. He glanced up from whatever he was writing when Avery joined him. “Feeling any better, Your Highness?”

Avery nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Solon. My name is Solon.”

Avery almost laughed in surprise. His breath came out in a sudden huff anyway. “You just called me Your Highness!”

Solon grinned. “You didn’t give me permission not to. I did.”

“I’ll call you by your name if you call me Avery,” he said.

“I think that’s a fair deal, Avery.” Solon made a soft humming sound. “You should get some sleep. I’m afraid they’re still cleaning up your rooms and hauling your things in there. It’ll be a few hours, I think.”

“I—”

“Are you not tired yet? If you want to stay up for a bit, I could use your help.”

The bath had woken Avery up, although he knew he’d fall asleep in minutes if he lay down. But he didn’t have a room yet, so did Solon want him to take his bed?

Avery tore his thoughts away from that. “What did you need?”

Solon waved to the chairs nearby. “Pull one of those up.”

Avery grabbed the nearest chair and slid it to where Solon pointed, then tucked himself into it while Solon rummaged for a clean sheet of paper. He handed Avery the pen. “Your family. I’m realizing I know very little about what my brother married into.”

Avery fiddled with the pen. “Then why did you agree to it?”

“Honestly, once I saw how Kavi reacted to your sister’s letters, I was sold on the arrangement. He…well. He liked what he learned of her immediately. And the details of treaties like this aren’t my job.”

Avery frowned. “You’re the king.”

Solon tilted his head. “I am. But I—well. Alham’s parliament decides what powers the monarch has. They vote on it every five years. And while the current officials are happy enough to have me help lead and oversee laws and even introduce some of my own, details of things like this are not my forte. Far more talented people than I do that.”

“They—vote? On what you’re allowed to do?”

Solon nodded. “The laws here don’t allow them to get rid of a monarch, exactly. But they can refuse to give an unpopular monarch or one no one trusts power until they abdicate. My grandfather was blocked from doing anything for three decades until he let my father take over. And my father only won their trust back by working his way up through the legislature and learning how it worked before they let him do anything.”

Avery cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I only had the time on the ship to read up on your country, and nothing like that was mentioned. I didn’t realize.”

Solon nudged the paper closer to Avery. “A family tree, please. And what each of you does. I’d ask your sister, but I’m not willing to interrupt newlyweds on their first day and night together.”

Aver turned pink at the implication. “I can do that.”

He drew marks for both his parents first, then took up the entire width of the paper to list out his brothers. “My father is the reigning king. He spends his days meeting with his advisors and the elected governors from each of the counties at home to make decisions and decide how they’re going to go be done.”

Avery drew two branches off the same root from his parents. “These are the oldest twins. Jamie is the heir. He spends his days shadowing our father and trying to learn everything and how to run things. He has two kids with his wife, but they’re both too young to take on any responsibilities yet. Zeke is second in line. He handles all the petitioners from around the country who arrive and need to speak to someone, and figures out how to resolve things. And if he can’t, he goes to Jamie and Dad.”

Avery drew another line. “And then the next twins, Jack and Max. Jack filters things for the older ones and makes sure that they’re not overwhelmed with too many things. He decides what’s most important to get their attention first, and redirects everyone else to other ways of handling issues.”

Solon hummed. “I think Jack was the one who first sent the letters of interest to me proposing I marry your sister.”

“You?”

Solon waved his hand. “Kavi was always more interested in marriage and children than I ever was. I suggested him to your brother instead, and he accepted. Your sister will still be the mother to any heirs. Alham doesn’t need a queen or a prince consort.”

“The…the prince consort?”

“The husband to the monarch. If I had one.”

Avery’s mouth fell open. The king could have a husband, if he wanted? Something burned in his stomach. His family had never said anything about his interest in other men, but Avery was—he was useless. And Ensheren didn’t need yet another heir. It was for the best he wouldn’t have any other children.

“The…the way your country works is very different than I’d imagined,” Avery said, choking back something clogging his throat to stare at the paper.

“I’m realizing that. Is marriage between two people of the same sex not allowed in Ensheren?”

Avery lifted one hand and found it shaking, and he waggled it back and forth. “No, we….we can, mostly. But the king…my father, or my brother, could never—they—they need to have children. Have direct heirs. It’s allowed for most people, but there are people with power who just. Can’t.”

Solon stared at his shaking hand for a long moment, then said, “Tell me about Max.”

Avery forced himself to look back at the paper. “Max does whatever he wants. He’s the most charming of us. He likes to mingle with the people in town and the rest of the country without going through proper channels. It’s hard to figure out when he’s in the castle and when he’s out. And he never tells anyone what he’s up to before goes and does it. Honestly, we usually hear of his escapades from the papers first. But it means he has more information on how things are going in the country than any of the rest of us. It’s why everyone likes him so much.”

“You like him,” Solon said.

“He’s everyone’s favorite brother,” Avery said. “Even Lisette’s.”

“And yet you’re here with her and not Max.”

“I don’t think Max has ever left the country. I don’t think he wants to. Besides, he’s busy. Formally, he’s in charge of most of the internal affairs of the country before anything has to be escalated.” Avery drew the next line before Solon could ask any more questions. “This is Lennox. He grew up watching after the knights training grounds and begging him to teach them, and joined up as soon as our father finally gave him permission. He’s worked his way up the ranks to be the Ensheren’s top general now.”

Avery drew two more lines. “This one is me. And then Lisette is the youngest. She was raised expecting to be married as part of a treaty, although we didn’t know it would be with Alham until the last couple of years. She’s ready to play her ambassador role. Don’t worry. She’ll be good at it.”

Solon pushed Avery’s hand back to the line for himself. “And what do you do? You didn’t say.”

“…Not…not much of anything,” Avery said. “By the time I was old enough to realize I needed to find something, my brothers already had things handled.” He shrugged. “Right now, I’m here to help Lisette get her bearings. That’s all.”

Solon watched him silently for a moment. Avery’s face went pink again, and he set the pen down. “Ensheren doesn’t need more royalty getting involved in things, and being given a job I’m not qualified to do would only cause more problems.”

Solon frowned, and Avery hated it. He knew he was useless. He knew he wasn’t contributing anything to his country the way royalty was supposed to. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that six princes was at least two too many, and while everyone had forgiven him for not having anything to prepare for in the future as a child, and he’d managed to put it off a few more years at university, every day since he’d turned twenty-five, more and more whispers had churned, wondering what his purpose was.

“I see,” Solon said finally. “Thank you. This will be helpful. Now, you should get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when our siblings come up for air, or when your rooms are ready. Whichever comes first.”

Avery took a slow breath to calm the frustration that had been building in his chest. Sleep. In Solon’s bed. But at least it would be in another room. “Thank you.”

Solon tilted his head. “There’re pillows on the couch over there. Do you want a blanket?”

Avery jolted in place. “No! No, that’s fine. Thank you.”

He turned away before Solon could read anything on his face and realize Avery had been thinking about Solon’s bed. Avery crossed the room to the couch and lay down, facing resolutely away from Solon.

He closed his eyes, took several slow breaths, and tried not wonder what Solon’s bed looked like.

~~~~~~~~

Solon woke Avery after true dark had fallen with a hand to his shoulder. Avery usually started awake when someone shook him, but this felt more like shifting awake on the boat, gentle and dizzying.

He blinked up at Solon in the dim lamplight, shaking himself to remind himself where he was. “Wha’ izzit?” he asked, and immediately clamped his mouth shut. If he couldn’t speak properly, he shouldn’t be talking at all.

Solon laughed. “Your room is ready for you, and your sister and my brother will be joining me for dinner soon. I thought you might want to change before they get here. You’re coming?”

Right. Avery was in borrowed clothing. “I should…definitely wear something…more presentable.” Even if Solon had seen him smelling and looking like a beached fish, the crown prince didn’t have to. And he was the one Avery should be focusing on, not Solon.

And what would Lisette have to say if Avery showed up to dinner looking rumpled and dressed in clothes that weren’t his?

…He definitely needed to change.

“I’d like to get ready,” he managed.

“Of course.” Solon helped him to his feet with a warm hand, soft except for the small finger callouses Avery was used to on artists. “I’ll show you your rooms. You can make it back here on your own, do you think, or would you like me to wait for you?”

Avery shrugged, and trailed quietly after Solon through the halls. Solon hummed something quietly to himself, but didn’t interrupt Avery’s contemplation of the palace walls now that he was awake enough to take it in properly.

The windows were wide and bright, the courtyards huge and full of gardens and not soldiers, and the walls hung with sculptures and paintings.

It felt safe. It would be a good place for Lisette to live. An unworried home without any need to be on guard constantly. Ensheren hadn’t seen a war in the last four decades, but the castle they’d been born into and all the ones they’d traveled between were still built with the lingering need to barricade in mind.

Solon’s home seemed more like a public showcase. Like it was designed to welcome people, like it belonged to the people, the way Solon’s job did.

Solon waved Avery into a series of small rooms—a bedroom, a small sitting room with a desk as if Avery had any guests to greet in Alham, and an attached washroom. Not lavish, but—it would do.

“It’s only two hallways,” Avery said. “I think I can make it back.”

Solon smiled. “Then I’ll see you shortly.”

Solon left him alone with a wave, and Avery dug through his wardrobe, pleased to find everything already unpacked and hung up for him. Avery didn’t normally fuss about his clothes, but normally he wasn’t meeting his sister’s husband.

Or trying to change someone’s horrible first impression of him. Avery was the useless prince of Ensheren, but he was still a prince. He could impress if he tried.

Hopefully.

He threw the borrowed—gifted—clothes onto his bed and swapped it out for his best pants, woven in a tight herringbone than shifted between gray and crimson, buttoned a gold shirt over it with dark brown buttons that matched his eyes, and wrapped it in place with a burgundy vest. Not the royal colors of Ensheren anymore than they were Alham’s—but they were Avery’s best colors, and he wanted to look nice. He rummaged through the wardrobe until he found his dark red coat and slid it on before brushing his hair out of the sleep mussed disaster and washed his face.

And then it was time to face Solon again.

Avery knocked at Solon’s door before opening it, and all three people in the room turned to him with a bright, “Avery!”

Avery froze at the sound of his name in unison from so many voices, then held up his hand to wave slightly, and drop it.

“Um. Hello.”

Solon smiled warmly, and Avery tore his eyes away from studying his face, hoping for surprise or at least approval, to meet his sister’s gaze. She’d gotten a bath and her hair curled down her back in loose waves over her nicest, newest dress.

She wanted to look nice for her husband. Good. That meant she liked him.

“Lisette,” he said. “You’re—” He stopped himself, then restarted, “You look nice.”

“So do you,” she said, eying him skeptically. “You put in effort.”

She still had one arm looped through her husband’s. It was easy to see that Solon was his brother, now that Avery had seen them both. They had the same dark hair fighting a wave, the same bright blue eyes, the same tall, slender build. Neither Solon nor Kavi was built to be a fighter like Lennox was, but neither was Avery. “Should I not want to make a good impression on your husband? I thought it would be good to at least try.”

The crown prince laughed and reached a hand out to shake Avery’s. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Avery ducked his head into a bow before shaking his hand. “Your Highness.”

“Kavi. My name is Kavi. And yours is Avery.”

“Kavi,” Avery agreed. “I’m glad to see my sister seems so eager to impress you.”

“Avery!” Lisette said, turning pink the same way he did.

“What? It means that you still like him as much as you did from the letters.”

Kavi laughed, a deep, warm sound that dragged another smile out of Avery. He was kind. He was friendly. And he kept turning toward Lisette like a magnet.

All good signs.

“Let’s eat,” Solon said, pulling the warming covers off the serving trays.

Kavi pulled a chair out for Lisette, then took the seat next to her. Avery took the seat next to Solon more gingerly than necessary and folded his hands in his lap, uncertain what pre-dinner rituals Alham observed.

Apparently, none, because Kavi started scooping noodles onto his plate as soon as Avery slid his chair closer to the table, and Solon stirred a pot of potatoes in some red-yellow glaze that was tangy enough to make Avery’s mouth water from across the table.

He took several thick pieces of bread, still warm, and buttered them, and slowly filled the rest of the plate with food. But he waited for Solon to take his first bite before he started eating.

Solon nudged Avery’s arm before he could get more than two bites into the lovely, warm duck and offered him a ladle filled with the sauced potatoes. “You should try these. They’re my favorite.”

“If you don’t like them, tell me and I’ll smack Solon for you,” Kavi said. “I asked for our chef to come up with something close to Ensheren’s food for you. I thought it would be good to acclimate you slowly. She even got a recipe book. But Solon cannot go a day without those damn potatoes.” Solon jerked under the table like he’d been kicked, and Kavi grinned at his brother.

“They taste good,” Solon said, sounding petulant and everything he hadn’t been the entire day while Avery collapsed on him. Lisette giggled into her bread and Avery couldn’t help a grin crawling onto his face.

“That does explain why you have peppered duck,” Lisette told her husband. “You remembered?”

Kavi turned to her with a smile that softened like butter over the bread Avery was busy shoveling into his mouth. “I would have double checked before asking our chef if I hadn’t.”

Avery’s chest warmed. Kavi and Lisette had been exchanging letters constantly for nearly two years already. They knew each other, even if they’d only met in person for the first time that day. He didn’t need to worry. Lisette knew what she was getting into far better than Avery did. She would be fine.

“You’re getting along well.”

Lisette pinked. “We’ve had a good day.”

“And I look forward to the next ones,” Kavi said, reaching over a tray of dumplings to touch her hand.

She smiled at him. “So do I.”

Avery fell quiet as he finished eating, eyes on his plate instead of his sister. She would be fine. Alham would be a good home. Kavi would be a good husband. Every single one of their brothers had insisted he accompany her, and even their mother had pulled Avery aside to give him her best guilt trip over his hesitance.

Maybe that would be for the best for Lisette. She didn’t need anyone to intervene.

He let Lisette and Kavi’s gentle flirting and Kavi teasing his brother wash over him without feeling the need to add anything. They were all content with each other, and he was content to know that.

Except that Kavi and Lisette and Solon all kept glancing at him, waiting for him to say something, and continuing with awkward pauses when he didn’t add anything. And by the time Avery had cleared his plate, Lisette had, clearly, gotten fed up with it. “Avery,” she said, “Kavi wants to know who my family is, too. And you’re the only one he’s getting the chance to before the wedding, and that isn’t for months. Will you please act like yourself?”

Avery startled in his chair. “What?”

“I miss the brother who used to sneak out of the castle with me and help me climb apple trees and bought me all the books our parents thought I shouldn’t be reading and taught me how to waltz after curfew.”

Avery blinked. “But Max did all of that.”

“Max did all of that with you. You’re the one that did all of that with me.”

Avery laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Max did not teach me how to waltz, Lisette.”

“He didn’t teach me either! Avery, I spent so much time telling Kavi about you. I want him to actually meet you. Stop being so quiet.”

“I was quiet at home, too,” Avery said, trying to bite back another laugh. “I’m tired. Give me a day or two.”

She leaned across the table to stare him down. “If you’re not acting like yourself in the week, I’m going to chase you around the courtyard with a stick.”

Avery’s helpless laughter was drowned out that time by Kavi’s, and Avery’s eyes darted to him again. He grinned at Avery—not worried about what Lisette had said, then—and stood up. “I think that’s a good reminder to all of us to get some sleep. Perhaps when you’ve gotten a chance to settle in here, Lisette won’t have to threaten you anymore.” He turned to his wife. “Let me escort you back to your rooms. They’re attached to mine if you need anything.” He winked. “Although with any luck, I’ll have wooed you into sharing my bed by our wedding.”

Solon made a disgusted sound from the back of his throat. “Kavi! Don’t be so crass. Her brother doesn’t want to hear that.”

Kavi stuck his tongue out at his brother. “That wasn’t crass, Solon. I was expressing interest. I kow explaining that to you is like trying to tell a fish about the desert, but it’s not inappropriate.”

Solon flushed red. “I’m not that bad.”

“And neither am I. Now I’m going to take my wife and settle in for the night. Good night, Solon.” He inclined his head to Avery. “It was good to meet you, Avery. I hope we’ll get some more time together once you’ve settled in here better.”

He escorted Lisette out the door, and Avery turned to Solon. “Thank you for your hospitality today. It…it’s been more than I could have expected.”

Solon raised an eyebrow as Avery straightened. “And why’s that?”

“Well I—I’m an uninvited guest. And yet—”

Solon gave him a smile, warm and bright, and it made Avery’s stomach flip over itself in a dangerous way. “I’ve been happy to help, don’t worry.”

“Right,” Avery said, which he was distantly aware wasn’t the right thing to say. He backed up towards the open door. “I’ll let you attend to your bed, then.”

He darted out the door before his face could turn red again and before he had to think about Solon and beds again.

~~~~~~~~

“Avery! I was wondering where you’d gone. You didn’t answer when I tried your door earlier.”

Avery straightened from where he was bent inspecting the palace garden’s flowers. “Solon! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be looking for me.”

Solon grinned. “If nothing else, I am expected to play host to royal visitors. And you’re the only one here that isn’t married to my brother.” He waved an arm back the way he came. “So let me do my job and show you around Alham’s capital.”

It wasn’t as if Avery had any reason to say no. And with the way Solon was smiling, he didn’t want to, either. So he smiled back, nodded, and let Solon lead him out of the palace and into the streets.

With no guards, at least none visible. Solon was dressed in the same unassuming clothing that had Avery mistake him for an attendant instead of a king, and no crown was in sight, but Avery still felt strange as they left the palace grounds, like someone had forgotten to give him a jacket in the winter. Like a weight was missing.

“Today we can go on foot,” Solon said. “We can’t reach everywhere in the city that way, but there’s plenty to see in walking distance.”

Avery nodded and stepped closer to him when a carriage passed by on the street, driving straight past the palace gates. Solon took the opportunity to  lean in and whisper conspiratorially, “To be honest, most of my favorite places aren’t close, but maybe Kavi had a point in acclimating you slowly.”

Avery laughed and Solon grinned back like he was surprised to hear it.

“Well, what fun are you taking us to today?”

“I was going to start with the high street shops. Not that I’m trying to drum up the local economy, although parliament would probably like me to. But it’s also where the most…polite…street performers gather and it’s a good place to see everyone from all parts of the city head to shop. Unless you’d rather do something else? I could do my best to keep you off kilter so your sister chases you around with a stick.”

Avery shoved at Solon’s shoulder without thinking about it, the same way he would have any of his brothers. Solon didn’t budge, and Avery drew his hand back like he’d burned it. “I—I’m sorry.”

Solon caught his wrist before Avery could withdraw completely. “Avery, the treaties between our countries are already signed and I’m not going to take Kavi’s wife away from him.” He’d pitched his voice low and soft like he was talking to a skittish cat, and Avery felt tension melt from his face and shoulders embarrassingly quickly. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. It won’t cause any harm if you do, and I won’t hold it against you, either. We’re both getting to know each other. Are you going to do anything against Alham because I didn’t know who you were when we met?”

Avery blinked. “But you didn’t do anything.”

“I thought you were one of Lisette’s attendants trying to get out of work.”

“So? I thought you were your brother’s.”

Solon laughed. “See? We’re even. We’ve both done things that could have offended each other, and neither of us are mad. Right?”

Avery glanced sideways at him for a moment. “All right. You have a point.”

“So you’ll stop trying to be so careful?”

Avery lifted one shoulder. “I think you’ll be disappointed in how I act when I’m relaxed. Lisette made me sound much more adventurous than I am.”

“That’s okay. We’re starting small today. We can work our way out into the city as far as you’re willing to push yourself. Or until you start kicking me.”

Avery ducked his head and then smiled. “Is that always how Kavi gets you to leave him alone?”

 Solon pressed a finger to Avery’s mouth. “Don’t go telling everyone his secrets.”

Avery’s breath caught until Solon dropped his hand away from Avery’s mouth again, and he pressed his lips together to imprint the feeling on them.

And so he didn’t say anything stupid.

~~~~~~~~

It was apparent by the time the week was out—and Lisette’s deadline had come—that Solon had every intention of taking Avery somewhere in the capital city every single day. At least until Lisette’s wedding, which was only five weeks away.

It was more attention than Avery was used to. More attention than he knew what to do with. But two weeks into his stay, he managed to hide away with Lisette for one of her dress fittings.

“Well, you’re having fun with Solon, aren’t you?” Lisette asked. “Right?”

Avery narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out if she was trying to imply anything. He and Solon had done nothing remotely scandalous. The fact that Solon’s smile and presence was enough to flip Avery’s heart over in his chest wasn’t the point. But his sister could tell. She always knew when he she saw him with someone he’d gotten a crush on.

“I’m enjoying myself here,” Avery agreed before immediately changing the subject away from Solon. “More importantly, are you? Because one of us is staying here after the wedding, and one of us is going home with our parents and brothers. Has Kavi been showing you around?”

Lisette huffed. “We’ve been busy.”

“Busy with each other, or busy with the wedding? Because—”

“Oh, just because I’m not in charge of all of the details doesn’t mean I’m not involved in my own wedding, Avery! It’s in a month and I only just got here and I don’t know anyone yet and—”

Avery clamped his mouth shut as his sister ran out of steam. She was stressed—of course she was; she was trying to build an entirely new life somewhere she’d never been, and Avery had decided she was fine and spent his days entirely occupied with Solon and his ginger cologne that—no, Avery did not need to find someone to bring back to Ensheren. “What can I do to help?”

“Avery—”

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Our brothers were pretty clear about that. I want to help you if I can, Lisette. Please.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she smiled while she did it. “So you’re only helping me because they asked you to? Not because you think I need help?”

“Your Highness,” the dressmaker said, kneeling at her waist, “I appreciate your spirit, but if you could have this conversation more sedately at least while I’m trying to pin things in place.”

Lisette went red up to her hairline. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had this done in a while.”

“You had this done two months ago to get that dress you wanted when you saw Kavi for the first time,” Avery said.

His sister scowled at him. “Will you hush?”

“You wanted me to be like this. Threatened me with a stick,” Avery said. “Now tell me what I can do to help you adjust here.”

Lisette’s shoulders slumped, but she caught herself before she did anything more to disturb the dressmaker’s work. “I don’t know, Avery. I just want some time alone with my husband again to get to know him and this country better.

A clap came from the door. “Done.”

Both Lisette and Avery jumped and turned to look at Solon leaning against the door frame. The dressmaker sighed and stood up to take a break and fetch something from his work kit.

“Solon!” Lisette said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for your brother. But if what you need is a day alone with my brother and this city, I can make that happen easily. The wedding details can manage a day without you. In fact, maybe even getting out of the city would be good. Our mother lives out of the city on a large estate near the woods. Would you like to visit her? It’s quiet and private there, but maybe meeting your husband’s mother wouldn’t help.”

Lisette blinked. “Your mother is still alive?”

Solon frowned. “I’m only thirty-one. My father’s death five years ago was very shocking, but it didn’t put my mother in any poorer health. She’s still quite young. She just wasn’t chosen as the next monarch.”

Thirty-one. When Solon had been Avery’s age, he’d taken up a crown. And Avery wasn’t even able to help his sister relax.

Lisette’s mouth opened into a soft circle. “Kavi gave me a brief explanation of how the lineage works here, but I didn’t realize your mother was still alive. Will she be coming to the wedding?”

“Of course. In the meantime, however, what would you like to do to squirrel away some alone time with my brother? I’m happy to do whatever I need to make it happen.”

Lisette hesitated, and the dressmaker attacked her waist with pins while she stood thoughtful and still.

“I think,” she said, “I would like to meet your mother before the wedding. Would she…what’s she’s like?”

“Cheerful, no nonsense, and very pleased Kavi found someone he likes so much,” Solon said. “I can’t promise she won’t have any questions for you, but I think she’ll be quite welcoming—and even if she gives you a proper interrogation, it’ll certainly be a distraction. I can pack you and Kavi off before nightfall and you’ll be there before morning.”

Avery nodded enthusiastically. “Just give me a list of things to handle while you’re gone, Lisette. I can at least do that much for you.”

“I…are you sure?” Lisette asked, pausing with a frown.

“Do you think I won’t do it properly?” Avery asked. “It’s for you, Lisette. I’ll do my best.”

Lisette laughed. “It has nothing to do with that at all, Avery. It just seems strange to let you handle things here while I go somewhere without you.”

Avery stood up, and sidestepped the dressmaker to take his sister’s hands. “That’s what this entire trip is meant to be. Go spend time with your husband. I’ve got this.”

~~~~~~~~

Avery did not have things. His sister left for a week see Kavi and Solon’s mother, leaving Avery with a list as long as his forearm to see to. And he only knew how to do one of them—checking the translation of the wedding program for the foreign guests. But he’d asked after that first. It wasn’t ready to be looked at yet.

And so he gave up his borrowed desk in his borrowed rooms and took the list to Solon’s room, hoping to plead help from him yet again.

Solon answered the door with a surprised smile and welcomed him inside immediately.

“Do you need something?”

“I’m sorry. I know we agreed that you wouldn’t need to host me this week while I took care of Lisette’s things, but I was hoping you could at least direct me to who I need to talk to. Lisette has been handling all of this alone.”

While Solon took him sight-seeing and showed off his favorite statues and museums and strange buildings, and they laughed at things for hours. But Solon knew that.

Solon waved that off. “It was starting to get boring without you around anyway.” He gestured to his desk. “I’ve actually had to get work done.”

Avery couldn’t help a smile at that. “As far as I can tell, Lisette is working on blending marriage traditions, but I don’t know if you have anyone besides the two of us who’s familiar with the traditions in Ensheren, or who I should speak to about implementing them.”

Solon snagged the list Lisette made out of Avery’s hands and spent a few quiet moments reading it. Avery let him and glanced around the room. It looked about the same as every other time he’d been in Solon’s rooms, except that his desk looked like it was being rapidly devoured by papers. And Solon looked the same, except that his hair had definitely had hands running through it, because the waves had gotten untamed and curled up at every angle.

Avery did his best not to stare as Solon read and then handed the list back to him. “None of this should be complicated. Either your sister was making things easy for you, or she managed to tie herself up in knots about it from stress. I know the wedding is only in three weeks, but,” Solon stretched his arms wide, “we’re royalty. This wedding is a national holiday, and a sign of goodwill when your family arrives. Everyone is going to do everything possible to make it happen properly on short notice. Honestly, I could give that list to my secretary and it would be done before your sister comes back tomorrow.”

“Lisette asked me to do it,” Avery said. “I’d like to see to it myself. I don’t doubt your secretary, but…”

Solon nodded once. “Of course. Jan is probably extremely busy as is. He’s had enough to take care of with both of you here. So.” He reached back to the list and tapped the first item. “We can take care of several of these things by talking to the priest. I haven’t had a chance to show you the temple yet, but we have a nondenominational one in the palace. The priest who will be officiating the service works there, and she can refer us to someone who can help with how you do your vows to ensure we do both.”

“We?” Avery asked.

“Avery, I’m very tired of paperwork today. Let me with you, please. Anything to get moving.”

Avery laughed. “Well, I can’t say no to the king.”

“You’ve said no to me three times in the last week,” Solon said, slinging an arm around Avery’s shoulders to steer him back out the door.

~~~~~~~~

Working out wedding details with Solon was much more nerve wracking that it had any right to be. It wasn’t his wedding. But seeing Solon smile at him in the largest chapel Avery had ever seen near the altar while Avery repeated the same steps his sister would make to arrive before the priest and demonstrate taking Solon’s hands as she would Kavi’s, and then teaching the priest how to tie their hands together with his sister’s sash was—

Well. Avery’s heart certainly got more of a workout than he would have if he’d gone sprinting for the same amount of time.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to dance with Solon to set up room for the family dances Ensheren enjoyed to celebrate the unions. He didn’t have to touch Solon while going over the most important menu items with their cook. And he didn’t even have to make eye contact while sorting out who would be kneeling, who would be standing, and when.

They broke from the palace again to hurry over to see the priest from Ensheren. Alham’s capital had a small immigrant population and traveling community—it would get larger now that Lisette was married to Kavi—enough, at least to have a small district devoted to them and their own cultural buildings.

“I can’t believe this place existed in your city and didn’t take me here first,” Avery said as they settled into a carriage to head across the city. “What was that about trying to give me time to adjust slowly?”

“It’s not adjusting if you just insulate yourselves with your people, is it?” Solon asked. “Besides, it takes forever to get there. Do you think they’ll recognize you?”

“Maybe. If they’ve been home recently.”

“Mmm. So you’ve been at more of your official events than you like to pretend.”

“Well, I attend them,” Avery said. “I don’t do much more than that.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

Avery kicked at Solon’s shin lightly and then turned red at the familiarity. Kavi did that. But Kavi was Solon’s brother. Avery just wanted the excuse to touch him.

“Hey!” Solon said, breaking into laughter. “What was that for?”

“Don’t sound so skeptical. You’ll see when my family gets here. They’ll take over all the final details without me having to do anything.”

“And yet Lisette wants you next to her at the altar, not any of them.”

“Well, she only gets one,” Avery said, avoiding Solon’s eyes. “And I don’t have another role to perform.”

“I don’t think Max is her favorite brother,” Solon said. “That’s all.”

���She’s not even the one who asked me to come. The rest of our family sent me with her. They were very pushy about it.”

Solon sat up straighter in his seat. “Oh. I didn’t realize that.”

Avery shrugged. He didn’t like thinking about it. Lisette hadn’t picked him, and the rest of his family wanted him out of their way for weeks. It made sense, but it still stung. Avery had always done his best, if not to help, at least not cause problems for anyone.

He thought he was still succeeding. Solon liked him, at least. If he and Kavi hadn’t both made it so clear that Solon never thought about romance, he would have even called it flirting. But a friendship with a king was no small thing.

Except when his sister was married to the crown prince of the same country. Then, a friendship didn’t matter. And neither did Avery’s crush on him.

~~~~~~~~

The night before Avery and Lisette’s parents and brothers arrived for the wedding, Alham held a celebration. It would last into the next days, to greet their new allies. It would last at least a week, even with the wedding festivities shortly after.

But the night before they arrived, they heralded the start of the holidays with fireworks.

Solon took Avery out of the palace to watch. He settled them on a patch of grass in a park he’d taken Avery to the first week he’d been there, high on the far edge of the city, with a view of the entire sprawl of buildings beneath them. Plenty of people had joined them to watch the show in the sky over the harbor, setting out blankets and picnic baskets.

“What about Kavi and Lisette?” Avery asked as he settled into one of the same blankets he’d borrowed his first day in Alham to sleep on Solon’s couch. He was wearing the same gold shirt he been given then under his favorite red coat, too.

“Kavi is almost certainly going to take Lisette to the top towers in the palace to watch,” Solon said, unpacking the bag of snacks he’d brought with them. “It’s more private and closer to the fireworks. He likes it better. I think it’s more comfortable to watch fireworks up here.”

Avery hummed. He had to agree. Watching in the palace seemed fancy. Exclusive. But he was with everyone else in Alham who wanted to be there, with Solon at his side, and he could imagine Max wandering around making friends with everyone. Avery couldn’t manage that sociableness, but he liked the idea of it.

It felt like where Avery belonged.

Lisette would like the privacy, though. She’d never gotten much, as the only princess of Ensheren. Avery could blend in better among their brothers.

“Is Kavi nervous?” he asked. “Lisette is torn between nervous and excited. But like you said, everything’s already official. This is just the party to celebrate it.”

“You know, I actually don’t think he is,” Solon said, settling onto the blanket next to Avery and folding his legs so he could rest his arms on his knees. “But he’s never been the type for nerves.”

“Lucky him.”

Solon laughed much louder than Avery’s muttered aside deserved. “I know. I’ve always been jealous. He would have been better at being king than I was, but that wasn’t how the votes went.”

“They get to design your job to your strengths, don’t they?” Avery said. “Yours were what they wanted, not Kavi’s.”

Solon raised an eyebrow and gave Avery the same once over he had when they first met. Avery felt his cheeks go as pink as they did the first day, too, but the sky was almost dark enough that he could believe Solon didn’t see it this time. “And what are my strengths, Avery? Why would they pick me over Kavi?”

Avery went redder, and this time he knew Solon saw it because his grin widened. “You…you’re thoughtful. You know everything about this city, at least, and you can tell me anything about your country any time I have a question about anything. You know how to solve problems, more neatly than I ever would. You know exactly who to ask for help and how. Who wouldn’t want you to be in charge?”

Solon’s mouth fell open and for a brief moment, he was visibly speechless. Then he looked away, swallowed, and recovered enough to say, “Thank you. That’s quite the compliment.”

Before Avery had to think of something else to say to that, the first explosion overhead broke. He turned in unison with Solon and every other person in the park with them toward the sparks of light breaking up the dark sky over the harbor.

Avery had always liked fireworks. He’d though of them as pretty things as a kid, like the paintings on his wall, but when he’d asked how to make them, the chemistry of it had overwhelmed him until he’d given up understanding.

They were magic. Made by talented, clever people with a purpose. And the purpose was to make people happy.

Solon edged closer as the show went on and the air cooled. Avery tightened his jacket around him and leaned closer to Solon’s warm skin.

And he stayed there after the last firework went off and those around them started to pack up and leave, his eyes on the sky. Until Solon shifted close enough to jostle Avery’s shoulder and Avery turned with an apology in his throat for waiting too long after the fireworks were done to help pack things up and leave.

But Solon wasn’t trying to pack up their blankets. He was staring at Avery, his eyes unreadable in the dark, his mouth soft and open.

Avery’s eyes drifted to the shadows playing on Solon’s face from the few lamps in their park that had slowly started being relit now that the fireworks were over. Drifted down to his mouth and stared at it, listing forward the way he had the first day they met and he was unstable and ill and Solon was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Avery,” Solon said, his voice soft, and Avery jolted upright, shaking himself. He’d been about to kiss Solon. Solon, who wasn’t interested in any of that. Solon, who was absolutely not an option for any of a hundred other reasons—starting with the fact that their siblings were married and there was no point. If Solon was going to get married, it would have to be to someone useful.

Solon startled himself as Avery set into action and stood, and he slowly started packing their things up as if he’d just woken from a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Avery avoided Solon the next morning. And the next afternoon. And it was easy to do it at first, with the chaos of preparing for far more royal guests than Lisette or Avery themselves represented. Avery managed to keep well out of his way all the way up until it was time to have dinner with his parents and brothers, and Lisette, Kavi, and Solon, and Solon’s mother.

Solon caught him on the way to the proper dining hall—Solon’s room wouldn’t fit so many people for dinner—and stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Avery! I expected to see you around today. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been around,” Avery said, looking away immediately. “It’s easy not to notice when there’s so many of us.”

“Except that I was looking for you, specifically, not a prince from Ensheren,” Solon said. “And you’ve not been around at all. Are you avoiding your family?”

“What? No, nothing like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“I just think too much has been happening,” Avery said. “There’ve been so many people to help adjust.”

There was a pained sound to their side, and Avery and Solon both turned to see Kavi with Lisette on his arm further down the hallway. Kavi dropped Lisette’s arm and stepped forward, grabbing Avery’s hand with his arm.

“Avery,” he said, “my brother is bad at this. He has no practice, because he’s never wanted to do this before. But he is trying to find out if you want to stay here in Alham. He’s spent the last six weeks trying to convince you to stay, hoping you’d fall in love with the country, so he could keep you around.”

Solon’s face turned redder with every word from his brother. But he didn’t argue or protest any of it.

“Will you—please, Avery, just put my brother out of his misery and tell him if you’re going to stay or not. Before dinner, please. I can’t imagine having to sit through an entire meal with the two of you so awkward around each other.”

Lisette tugged on her husband’s arm. “We should leave them be,” she said. “Avery, don’t come to dinner until you’re done talking to Solon about this. Please.”

“Lise—”

But she didn’t stop, and she and Kavi had turned the corner before Avery could even finish her name, leaving him alone again with Solon.

Avery turned back to Solon, unsure what to say after that. “Um.”

“I—uh.”

They stared at each other in awkward silence for a long moment before Solon finally broke it again. “So? Are you willing to stay? Here? Even after your parents leave?”

“You…you really want me to?”

Solon grabbed for Avery’s hands and took them in both of his. “Avery. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. I didn’t even know I could like someone the way I like you. But you’re not useless, and you’re not unwanted. You care. You want to know everything about everyone, and you want to do your best to help. Maybe—maybe starting over somewhere without the expectations and your siblings taking care of so much will make it easier for you to find something to do here. You’ve always wanted to date men, haven’t you? Spend your life with one? And your parents and siblings all pushed you to come here, where that’s….where you can do that. They like you, Avery—you’ve never once said you don’t get along with them. And they wanted you to come here, where they wouldn’t be hanging over your head and—and maybe you could marry someone if you wanted.”

Avery blinked, then looked down at their hands. “You really think that’s what they were trying to do?”

“So much so that I asked Lisette about it, and she turned pink the same way you do when you get caught. She asked if I was trying to keep you.”

Avery ducked his head against a growing smile. He could see Lisette asking that. Could see her hoping for that. “If you’ve wanted me to fall in love with Alham, you’ve succeeded. And if….if you wanted me to fall in love with you, then…well…it’s still early. But I think you’re succeeding there, too.”

Solon’s face brightened like the sun and his smile could have cracked his face in half. “So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll have to talk to my parents about it,” Avery said, worming his hands out of Solon’s to rest them on his shoulders. “But if you’re right, I think they’ll be happy for me to stay here. Especially if we have a treaty and they’ll have someone to take care of Lisette.”

“And Lisette can take care of you,” Solon said, tucking his hands around Avery’s waist.

“Mmm,” Avery agreed, a grin growing across his face. “Now if you want me to stay, Your Majesty, perhaps you should start proving it with a kiss?”

Solon’s hands tightened as he jolted in surprise, and he met Avery halfway.

[shellsweet]

Hello! Wanted to say I absolutely adore your art and saw you've mentioned selling prints before? Do you happen to have a store link? Having some of your art in my TMNT collection would be the highest of honors!

Thank you so much for the kind words! That's a huge honor! I appreciate it! I sold a huge batch a few months ago, I was privately shipping those by myself. I'm planning to do one more final batch soon, which I was hoping to do by now but work and life are kinda getting in the way right now. I'm hoping to make this a 200 copy limited print run when I'm completely finished. If you'd like to reserve a copy, please feel free to send me an email to shellsweetart@gmail.com and I can send you the google doc that has all the information on the print and process (Also includes the request fill out form to get you started!). This will treat your order as a pre-order, and as soon as I start getting everything together again, I'll start with the payments/ect. I appreciate everyone for being so understanding!

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[lilianade-comics]

Stolen Sanguine's Storyline

@taptrial2 requested information about my Danny Phantom vampire AU, Stolen Sanguine. I previously made a post about the AU's world-building. This post will summarize the story as far as I've developed it.

*Vlad begins the relevant history of this AU as a vampire, and the details of his turning are not important as they are not the inciting incident of his revenge plot.

---

THE PAST.

A little over thirteen years ago, Vlad was a rich, powerful vampire living the typical vampiric lifestyle with the added bonus of some mad science human/vampire experimentation on the side. But after years of living like that, he realized it wasn't satisfying him and there was something very big and important missing from his existence. Under the weight of crushing loneliness, and knowing it's supposed to be against vampiric nature to form real connections, Vlad decides to run an experiment: Is it possible for him, a vampire, to form a real relationship with a human and never introduce blood consumption to the dynamic? Is it possible for him to experience genuine love?

Enter Jack and Maddie. Maddie was about six months pregnant at the time, and the story she tells Vlad is that her husband was a merchant whose ship sank recently. Jack is in the role of her servant. They quickly form a friendship with Vlad and in Maddie's case, she allows Vlad to believe he's wooing her. They run the long game on Vlad, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and that moment comes a few months after Maddie's twins are born. Jack and Maddie, vampire hunting husband and wife, turn on Vlad and attempt to slay him, citing his many, many crimes against humanity and evil, blood consuming nature as the reason he's a fool to think they ever cared about him at all.

Vlad escapes Jack and Maddie because his castle is full of secret passageways, but he's suffering a nasty facial wound from a stake and reeling from the betrayal. He watches from a distance as they burn his home down and destroy his immortal life's work, and bitter hatred takes root in his black heart because he actually had hope his experiment was working. That he could love and be loved and finally feel satisfied...

Immediate revenge is the only option. Maddie gave all number of excuses why she wouldn't let Vlad meet her infant (the cholera outbreak in the area is too dangerous) in a thin attempt to protect them should the plan go awry, but she didn't realize Vlad's powers far extend the norm. With a trace of Jack's blood on one hand and Maddie's on the other, Vlad can taste both and have an approximate idea of where their offspring resides, so he sets off to destroy Jack and Maddie's world.

Jack and Maddie would never have expected Vlad to find their little traveling murder wagon, so it's relatively undefended save the ridiculous amount of anti-vampire measures, half of which are useless and the other half pose no more than a slight inconvenience. The biggest obstacle is the fact that Vlad can't enter the dwelling uninvited and keep his powers, but he's beyond caring at this point and he meets no opposition from the cowering caretaker tasked with minding the treacherous leeches's spawn.

He wasn't expecting two babies, and after forcing entry Vlad is feeling more fatigued, vulnerable, in pain, and anxious than he anticipated, so he makes the hasty choice to take one and leave the other. Had he been more decisive, he probably would have done something far more grisly, but this choice sealed the fate of both children for better or for worse. Vlad flees the Fenton's traveling home with his stolen prize and vanishes into the beyond, never to be found.

(Jack and Maddie return some time later, exhausted and emotionally spent from hours of trying and failing to find their prey. To say that day went from bad to worse for them is an understatement. They continue to search for Vlad and their daughter for weeks, but the day they find a blood soaked baby blanket in the woods is the day they lose all hope.)

Vlad's retreat from his pursuers was stressful and made more difficult due to the fact that he was injured from the attempted slaying and powerless from forcing entry, but fortunately for him the tiny object of his revenge will conveniently provide the blood needed for his expedient recovery. Vlad has never eaten a child before--the thought is somewhat distasteful to him, but he puts this discomfort aside in the face of his hunger and seething, furious need to hurt Jack and Maddie.

It's funny, then, how when he removes the infant from its blanket and looks into its blue eyes and observes its little fisted hands and feet, holding it aloft and away from his body like the sacrifice it's supposed to be, Vlad hesitates. In those best days with Jack and Maddie, he could have sworn his experiment was working. That if they had never tried to kill him, Vlad could have seen fully past his desire for blood and simply be their friend, no strings attached. That he could have fully loved them. That they could fully love him. It was they who had ruined everything, they who were the monsters, not him. Vampires could love, if they chose to. He just needed to find someone without prejudice, someone without hate...

Danielle's life was spared that day. As she grows up far, far away from her birthplace, Vlad ensures she knows what he wants her to know: That he, a vampire, adopted her after her evil parents used her as bait in an attempt to kill him. It's not the unedited truth, of course. But it's true enough. What's even more true is that Danielle loves him wholeheartedly, and Vlad, in his own disturbed way, loves her too. He shields her from the darkness of his world and does everything in his considerable power to keep her happy, healthy, and safe. He's not lying when he claims he's never bitten her. She's his daughter, a word that isn't in the average vampire's vocabulary. It's the sweetest revenge imaginable: the child of vampire hunters, now the child of a vampire.

---

PRESENT DAY.

Danny is turned inside his own home. It was a freak accident, and he wasn't even bitten. All it takes is one little scratch and a tiny drop of venom; and he wakes up the following night with a craving for the unimaginable. Brought up to believe vampires are the most evil creatures alive and terrified of what he might do to his parents, he flees home and camps out at the Foley farm, where Tucker sneaks him livestock just to keep him alive.

Jack and Maddie were going to let Danny apprentice at an astronomer's guild in the near future, so Danny leaves them a note to tell them he was so excited about it he left early. The truth is too terrifying to admit, and he knows they're too caught up in the hunt for the vampire that got away from them thirteen years ago to question it. They kept saying they were close; which means Danny is free to...do what, exactly?

He has nowhere to go. Tucker can't hide him forever, and as much as Sam pretends that she's a witch she can't undo his curse. And Danny feels that hunger still, that hunger driving him to hurt his closest friends. So he leaves them too, fearing their safety.

He travels for a bit by night, subsisting off animals and avoiding people as much as he can. He has some close calls: a white-clad vampire slaying cult nearly catches him after he gets a little too bold going after livestock, and even though Danny knows he needs to avoid people, he can't help but take advantage of his newfound immortality and help people who need it. A victim of highway robbery here, a stuck wagon there. One freezing cold river and one rescued swimmer later and Danny discovers that he's exceptionally pathetic for a vampire; he can't die by hypothermia or drowning, but he lacks the resistance and recovery speed these monsters are supposed to have. He spends hours staring at the stars, hoping no one finds him like this, and all he can think about is blood.

It's at one rural village miles away that he hears whispers that he's officially in vampire territory. He's passingly familiar with these concepts: vampires aren't typically nomadic and usually reside in one or two locations, amassing enough power and wealth and political or economic influence so as to be untouchable, and presiding over a handful of villages or even a city that don't dare to oppose them. This particular area apparently has a relatively high concentration of vampires, which normally would have him going the other direction. But one name stands out from the rest, one name gives him pause. Vlad Masters, or Plasmius as he is colloquially known underground. The one who escaped from his parents, all those years ago. The one who killed his baby twin sister.

Curiosity is only a fraction of what drives Danny into Vlad's domain. Is it anger? A sense of vengeance for a sister he never had the chance to know? Misguided heroic principles telling him to save the poor people in Vlad's village? Or something far more complicated, the need to look at another vampire and compare himself--to understand---what he is. What he might become. Either way Danny finds himself readying a wooden stake on the way to the manor and realizing he might be more like his parents than he's willing to admit.

It's midday when Danny arrives. He long ago picked up a heavy cloak to shield him from the sun, and he figures that Vlad is more likely to be inactive and less powerful when it isn't night. And since Danny has never drank human blood, he has no powers to lose when he enters the manor uninvited. He doesn't know what he's looking for. A murder dungeon, probably. Body parts strewn everywhere. Blood smeared on the walls. Evidence of a terrifying vampiric mad scientist's crimes. Not prim little houseplants and stacks and stacks of gaudy decorations. Unfortunately for him, Vlad has been functionally diurnal for years at this point, and Danny doesn't notice he's been snuck up on until Vlad is right behind him and inquiring just what does this little intruder think he is doing?

Coming face to face with his sister's murderer with no warning wasn't ideal, but Danny has been on the open road long enough that his reaction time is sharpened to a knife's point. Or a stake's point, as it were. And perhaps if he were facing a human he might have managed to do something with it. But Vlad catches his swing comically easily and holds it in place, like he's trying to decide if it was meant to be a feeble joke. Danny wrests his arm away and falls back, and his hood slips back from his head, revealing his face.

Vlad's unprecedented expression of shock and recognition is all Danny needs to see, and he's on his feet again in a blink. "Recognize me?" he inquires. Vlad audibly confirms it, that Danny must be Jack and Maddie's son, the other baby in the cradle. The twin left behind. And at this Danny's anger and panic gives way to bloodlust, a terrible surge of violence with one target. He can't believe he's endured weeks of pushing down his monsterous urges just to give in here, but Danny can't let the death of his sister slide.

Attacking Vlad again goes no better than it did the first time, and now Vlad's mostly recovered from the shock and remarking on how....amusing it is that Danny has found him after all these years. And look at that! Are those adorable canines pointed? Why, that's just the most delicious cosmic irony possible, and Vlad's smug musing at how this must have utterly destroyed his parents only enrages Danny more. Try as he might, he never even comes close to harming Vlad, who dances around him like it's all a very cute game.

Vlad maintains the insufferable veneer until Danny, furious and panting, reminds him that he happens to be the bastard who killed an innocent baby- his baby sister, and Vlad shows a glimmer of genuine irritation for the first time. Suddenly he's closer than he was a second ago, and he playfully tells Danny that being a presumptuous brat will not improve his chances of making it out of the manor alive. Danny takes the golden opportunity to swing at him again, but Vlad finally goes on the offensive and grabs him in a vicelike chokehold.

Still conversational, Vlad tells Danny he has left him in a most interesting position. Shall he kill him? That would certainly be fair, since Danny has tried to kill him already, and he's clearly unable to control himself. Or should he spare him, and reveal the true nature of his sister's fate? Danny struggles for air, with no idea what Vlad is talking about. He tries to wheeze something goading, but the moment ends abruptly when a door swings open behind them and Danielle runs into the room, not finishing her sentence when she sees the confrontation.

Saved by his sister's appearance, Vlad reluctantly releases Danny and lets him cough pitifully on the floor while he attends to Danielle, who has forgotten what she wanted and is staring wide eyed at the strange boy, not letting Vlad coax her out of the room. Danny recovers his breath, bloodlust long gone, and stares right back. Vlad, for once in his life, briefly looks at a loss, before deciding that an explanation is definitely necessary and he introduces Danielle to the impertinent little intruder who just tried to stab him, her long lost twin brother Daniel. And to Danny, he introduces Danielle, placing great stress on my beloved daughter.

Dinner that night is unbelievably awkward. For Vlad and Danny, that is. Danielle is thrilled. It comes to light that Danielle not only knows she's adopted, she knows the whole story of how she came to be with Vlad...or, at least, Vlad's edited version of it. Danny is appalled, especially when Danielle excitedly exclaims that now that he's escaped his parents, he can live with her and Vlad forever! Vlad chokes on his wine (or is it blood?) while Danny shoots him a thunderous look. Danny inquires why Dani thinks he escaped his parents, and she, sensing his unhappiness, explains that they probably tried to hurt him for being a vampire like they tried to hurt her father, didn't they? Vlad watches Danny closely, because that's exactly the assumption he made as well, but Danny manages to grind out that his parents love him and are good people, and would never, ever hurt him.

Later, after Danielle has shown Danny every nook and cranny of the manor and babbled excitedly about her life and asked him a million questions about his, after Vlad finally sends her to bed, Danny finds himself alone with his sister's murderer again. No, not her murderer. Her kidnapper. Her manipulative liar of a "father". He tells Vlad as much, sitting across from him with a lit fireplace between them. Vlad only scoffs and asks when, exactly, did he lie to Danielle? Did he lie when he said Jack and Maddie used her and Daniel as bait? Maddie was with child when she courted Vlad. Bait, my dear boy. What sort of parents knowingly place their unborn children in the sights of a vampire? Did he lie, then, when he said he rescued her from them? Judging by Daniel's unfortunate fate, no.

Danny's face colors with rage, but he can't say anything for a moment. You're still evil, you're still a monster, you won't get away with this, all flit through his mind, but he settles for telling Vlad that his parents had nothing to do with his "condition" and he's not afraid of them hurting him. Vlad smirks in that punchable way of his, and says that's evident in the way he ran for miles just to fall at the feet of their worst enemy. Danny doesn't rise to this bait. He goes on to say that he's not scared of his parents hurting him, he's scared of the reverse. Of the very real urge he feels to hurt them.

Then Danny brings up the thing that has been eating at him since he first saw Dani. The fact that she was not only happy and alive, but whole and unbitten. She's been living with a vampire for thirteen years and Vlad's never...? Vlad regards him and says nothing, face impassive save an amused quirk to the side of his mouth. How? Danny wonders. How is that even possible? Vampires aren't supposed to be able to treat humans like anything other than food. How did Vlad figure out how to resist the hunger?

Seeing that Danny is being earnest, Vlad asks him why he's here and what he wants. And Danny falters, thinking. As much as his skin crawls at the thought, he wants Vlad to teach him the secret to beating the hunger. He wants to stay close to his sister's side. And he wants to hold onto that glimmer of hope that maybe he doesn't have to be a monster. Vlad drums his fingers against the rich texture of the armchair and remarks how fortunate Daniel is that he bears such a striking resemblance to the one person in the world Vlad would never deny anything. And with how happy Daniel's presence has made Danielle, it would be a pity to separate the siblings again so soon. So with the wary promise that Daniel will do exactly what Vlad tells him to and that he will do nothing on pain of death to endanger Dani's safety whether it be by word or deed, Vlad agrees to teach him his secrets.

---

[bau-muffin]

“Pure Intentions”

Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: E

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1,162 Words

Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.

Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.

Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.

He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.

“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”

“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”

“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”

You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.

“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.

“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.

“You see me as the bodyguard type.”

You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”

“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.

“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”

“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”

“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”

“Mm?”

“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”

“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“

“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.

Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”

You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.

“Can you come to my desk for a second?”

You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.

You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”

“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.

“Uh-” you backed away from him.

“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”

Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.

A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“

“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.

On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.

“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.

“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”

Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”

“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.

“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.

He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Discovers He Has A Daddy Kink | Shoto x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Pro Hero Shoto Torodoki x Reader 💋

Summary: Shoto is your Pro-Hero boyfriend coming home late from patrol. He finds you up to no good 😉 and decides to join you. In the heat of the moment, you call him "Daddy" and he goes absolutely feral. All characters are consenting adults in their late twenties. A hot, unedited one shot.

Genre: Smut, Romance, S*xual Tension

CW: MDNI!, A18+, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Femme Reader, AFAB Reader, Unprotected Sex

💕Link to My Master List 💕

Neither of you see it coming when you say it for the first time. You didn’t plan on saying it, and there’s no way in hell that you could have anticipated Shoto’s reaction to the word.

It’s a Thursday night and Shoto got back later than expected from patrol.  It’s been a long week and you could really use a goddamn fucking orgasm to put you to sleep, so when it becomes clear your boyfriend isn’t going to be home on time, you start touching yourself in bed. You’re so in the zone you don’t hear the door open and shut when he arrives home, exhausted and sweaty from a long night out with his sidekicks.

He leaves his dirty hero costume at the door and stumbles into the bedroom in his underwear – tight black boxers that are a size too small. Shoto never learned how to shop for himself, and you’ve been slowly helping him build a wardrobe that compliments him.

He arrives in the doorway of your shared bedroom and sees you face down in his pillow, grinding into your fingers as you slowly pleasure yourself over your soft pajamas. His impassive expression quirks into a smile as he watches you squirm and shift your hips to get a better angle. He lets himself enjoy the view for a few moments, shedding his boxers as he feels his cock start to stiffen. He reaches down to stroke at himself, reveling in the way he gets turned on just looking at you. You’ve been together for 2 years and he still can get off to just the thought of you. He works at his dick for a few minutes, getting himself nice and hard as you continue to obliviously masturbate on the bed.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you. He approaches the bed quietly, then says in his authoritative Pro Hero voice “Stop what you’re doing, and stay where you are.”

You freeze, momentarily scared shitless. Your ass is in the air and your face doesn’t leave the pillow as you call out: “Shoto? You’re home?”

“I just got off patrol. Looks like someone couldn’t stand waiting for me.” He says softly, climbing on the bed and positioning himself behind you. “Looks like you got yourself all pretty and ready for my cock.” He reaches up and pulls your sweatpants down, revealing your ass. He slips the fabric down a few more inches until you feel the cool air conditioning hit your pussy. You shiver and Shoto smiles as he reaches down to caress your pussy with calloused, capable fingers.

You hiss in satisfaction when he slips a finger inside you, rocking it in an attempt to hit your G spot. The angle is no good, and you push backwards into him, craving more attention. You assume that he’ll finger you and then use his mouth like he usually does – so you’re surprised when he quickly removes his finger and shifts to replace it with his thick cock. His hard member slides easily inside of you, but you still cry out at the unexpected intrusion.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly as he begins to move, thrusting into you at an even pace. You groan in reply, happy to be full of his rock hard cock. He slides in and out of you leisurely, enjoying the way your pussy wraps around him so invitingly. “Fuck. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He grabs your hips for leverage, slowly picking up the pace. You moan as he hits your core just right.

“I feel bad that you had to wait so long.” He says apologetically. “You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He thrusts a bit harder and you whimper as you build towards your orgasm, molten lava pooling in your core. “Is this what you wanted baby?”

His cock is stretching you out so good, treating you so well. You can’t even think straight. The words tumble from your lips before you have time to wrap your brain around them.

“Yes, daddy.”

Shoto’s hips stutter to a stop and you wine at the loss of action.

“What did you just call me?” He says, sounding confused. You double down, hoping to spur him to return to thrusting. You need him so badly, you’ll do anything to get him moving again.

“Daddy.”

“Fuck.” Some kind of switch slips in Shoto’s brain and he beings pounding into you, frenzied. His grip on your hips tightens and is almost bruising. He guides your bodies together again and again, chasing his high. You feel his hard cock slide in as deep as he can manage, kissing your cervix with a prevision that only a Pro Hero can manage.

“Oh, Shoto yes!” Is all you can manage to say as he pounds you into the mattress doggy style, all of his energy concentrated on absolutely railing your pussy.

You’re so close to cumming, your orgasm building and tantalizing you – just a few strokes of Shoto’s dick away. Your eyes slip closed as you enjoy the insane motion of Shoto’s hips. You’re absolutely cock drunk and drooling into the pillow.

“Shoto, I’m gonna - ” But just as your pleasure starts to crest, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. “Wha -?” He raises your hips and tosses your legs over his shoulders. His heterochromiatic eyes are blazing as he looks down at you, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. He guides his cock back towards your entrance, rubbing his head against your clit for good measure before sliding back inside you. This new angle is absolutely heavenly – typically, Shoto likes to fuck slow and sweet. This aggression is a real treat. He does all the work, slowly fucking into you until he picks back up to his previous unbelievable pace. His pro hero body has so much stamina, you know that he can keep this up all night if need be. Your pussy flutters with the notion, your breath coming out in hot pants.

Shoto locks eyes with you and growls out “Say it again.”

Your eye lids are drooping as you focus on the smooth slide of his cock in and out of you. “Say what?” You moan out, enjoying the way your legs bounce on his muscular shoulders as he pistons into you. He slides a hand down from your hips and delivers a swift smack to your ass. Your eyes widen at the contact.

“Say. It. Again.” Your brain scrambles and searches for the words he wants to hear. With a start you put the pieces together.

“Fuck me harder – daddy.”

Shoto groans and shifts forward to rest his face in the crook of your neck, the change in position nearly bending you in two. You say a silent prayer to your yoga instructor and breathe into the new position. You cry out in pleasure as Shoto’s cock hits your G spot with shocking precision in the new angle. Your pussy squeezes around him and he’s in absolute heaven as he kisses desperately at your neck. He reaches down to deliver another sharp smack to your ass cheek and the mixture of pain and pleasure pushes you over the edge.

“Shoto, baby, I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming. Oh my God.” You feel the orgasm hit you in waves, your body shaking as you cum around your boyfriend’s perfect cock. The shockwaves of muscle spasms in your pussy pushes Shoto over the edge, too. You feel his cock twitch deep inside you before he cums, shooting ropes of ejaculate into your sweet core. As you ride out your orgasm, your pussy milks Shoto for all he’s worth and he groans out your name, unbelieving that sex can feel this good, this insane. He thrusts into you until your both over stimulated, groaning from the contact.

When you’re done, he pulls himself up a bit so that you’re in a more comfortable, less-foldy position, but he stays inside you for a few minutes as you both catch your breath. Beads of sweat slide down your joined bodies like raindrops, and you long for both sleep and a shower. You’re not sure if you’ll manage the latter.

Finally, breathing heavily, Shoto pulls out of you. He watches as his cum drips down your sticky thighs and pools on the duvet. He reaches out a finger to trace along the slit of your pussy, dipping into your sticky center in wonder. You shiver, over stimulated, and swat his hand away from your still-pulsing core. You’re on birth control, of course – but you and Shoto are usually so careful to use condoms. Shoto’s complicated history with his family makes him wary of fatherhood, and you both usually take every precaution possible when it comes to sex.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” He says, shaking his head as he reaches to help you sit up. He uses a thumb to smooth sweat off your brow and tuck your hair behind your ears. “Was that too much, love? I’m so sorry if I took things too far.”

You shake your head, breathless. “Shoto that was…that was incredible.” You grin stupidly up at him, head foggy from your orgasm. “…I guess you have a daddy kink?”

He gives you a funny look. “I’m going to need to talk about this in therapy. This is clearly me dealing with my fucked up father issues in a new weird way.”

“…or….” You say optimistically, sensing that Shoto is about to shut down the way he does when his family comes up in conversation. “Orrrr you have a fun new kink for us to explore! Don’t overthink it, babe. At least not tonight. You must be exhausted.” You reach out and take one of his hands in yours, massaging up his wrist where you know he often aches from using his ice quirk. You pull him into a chaste kiss. He leans into the touch, grateful.

“There will be plenty of time for processing. But for now, let’s cleanup and go to bed.” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“You’re right.” He says, scooting off the bed and getting to his feet. “What do you want – a washcloth and a water bottle?”

“Please.” You say, laying back on the pillow and stretching out your legs. Shoto comes back a minute later with both items.

“There is one thing I definitely want to do again.” Shoto says, his face burning a bit red as he watches you wipe yourself down with the cloth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” You ask him, curious.

“Can I spank you more often?” He sheepishly grins, his eyes darting down to take in the bright red spot he’s left on your ass cheek.

“Anytime, Shoto.” You laugh as you let him pull you to your feet and towards the bathroom for a shower. It’s late, and there’s plenty of time to discuss things in the morning over coffee and pancakes. All is well.

[pastafossa]

"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”

[jymwahuwu]

tis i! wingweaver anon again back from the livestream with a vengeance XD.

https://honkai-star-rail.fandom.com/wiki/Transcript_of_Ten-Lords_Commission_Interrogation_With_the_Wingweaver_Xili

but i found this transcript and i realized that some wingweavers have come under the watch of the luofu. imagine a wingweaver reader from xili's clan being left behind on this strange ship. maybe you'd known xili as well, something of a mother to you perhaps, or a rather stern aunt.

even so, you are a proud little thing with your own biases and you are not fond of the xianzhou at all. but you're not one who specializes in any combat or military genius ( perhaps you are a labourer or servant class? ) so you cannot stir up trouble or run your mouth. you can no longer fly either because of the strict watch placed upon you and your clansmen, and you must content yourself with working odd jobs for a living with people who dislike you in equal measure.

but then there is a strange white haired man who comes and meets you sometimes. he likes pulling on your wings and feeding into your curious mind with stories and yummy food. and you can't say you're not impressed by him, xianzhou native or not. maybe at some point you slowly shed away that anger because it's so exhausting.

jing yuan had grown to have his own guilty pleasures, with your company exclusive to him and no one else. you're bright eyes, a little snarky, a little witty and you're such an adorable little birdie to him. surely he's allowed to be selfish, yes? and seeing you soften up and let him hold you, press soft kisses down your neck, he has an air of smug satisfaction.

but now you're trying to be civil with other people? he can't help but feel that bite of possessiveness. perhaps you've been a bit too brave in that regard, a bad little bird who has wandered too close to the bars of her cage.

he coaxes you to his home, to the coziness of his room when he finds out you're slowly going into heat. there were clear orders given to you and your clan that you were not allowed to proliferate...but really now, that was with each other, yes? you should be fine with him? and your mind and instincts do see jing yuan as a good mate. he is strong and he's proven a good companion, so you're more than happy to present yourself to him.

jing yuan does not stop till every bit of you if full with his seed. you'll bear his children soon enough and he's giddy at the thought, keeping you locked up for him to fuss, spoil and fuck. you could try to run but you learn rather quick that he's terribly good at finding you.

soon enough you do slowly give up a little and have him touch you all over, on your belly and breasts, cooing. he's so soft and kind to you and he keeps this nest you've made nice and warm. maybe you did belong here in the end, just for him. so you stay, with his ribbon tied round your neck like a pretty collar.

Thank you wingweaver anon, I absolutely love this series!! This sounds so cute <3<3

tw: dub-con/non-con, forced breeding, bird's estrus, harassment

As you were working part-time and waving your wings, attracting curious attention from the people of Xianzhou, Jing Yuan was also attracted. He's always loved furry and adorable things - kittens, puppies, birds - and now, you, with wings and feathers falling to the ground? Real wings? His heart seemed to be tickled by your feathers. Maybe this is the cuteness attack. The general couldn't help but tug at your wings, which were softer than velvet.

You screamed softly, stepped back, and turned to look at him, your shy blood rushing to your ears and heating up. "Sir, please don't touch other people's wings at will!" Jing Yuan apologized casually, "I'm sorry, I'm just curious about your wings. Are you-" The words stopped. He realizes what planet you are from. You are an enemy being monitored by Xianzhou. A little bird in captivity. So he took time to come to your place of work almost every day. Stories, tips, sweet words. There's no point in getting angry at him, you feel like an ungrateful brat - considering he is Xianzhou's general and allows you guys limited freedom here.

Some occasional display of bird habits is also nice. It felt so good to him. Jing Yuan tentatively picked up some shiny necklaces and shook them in front of you, not missing your eyes lighting up (but then, you looked away and snorted).

Some Xianzhou people, as well as your kind, want to pursue you. You are so popular, you just didn’t notice it. Most people want birdie girls like you. Chirpy, smart, sharp and cute. Jing Yuan decided to take the initiative. He was convinced that given you a chance you would fly to a safe and comfortable nest. He can provide one. On the day when you were particularly grumpy and showing off your feathers, he slowly lured you into the general's palace. Under the influence of estrus (or do you just like him? You don't know.), you can't help but stare at his broad shoulders and chest, suspecting that those are so warm and sure to keep you safe and comfortable. He's huge, too.

There were soft chains on your hands, and you were being penetrated and creampied, the feathers then scattered on his bed. It was a bed specially purchased by Jing Yuan to simulate the space and environment of a nest. "…Jing Yuan-" With the high-speed and deep thrusting frequency, you tried to form words other than moaning. "Maybe-maybe that's enough? I-I'm going back to the nest-" His hands lifted both of your thighs up. And that giggle. The cock presses deeper against your cervix. "No, you're not pregnant yet."

"Pregnant?" You opened your mouth and widened your eyes, but your reproductive instinct inspired you, and you unconsciously wrapped your body tighter around his cock, milking him. He closed his eyes in enjoyment. You rolled your eyes, "mm ah-!"

"Yes. I'm going to be the father of the baby birds," he announced during the creampie.

[milliesfishes]

Enchanted𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: nudity, talk of male anatomy pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. (thank you lovey for letting me write for this!) I have a mermaid special interest and it's been a delight. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sea was a home in and of itself, but it was lonely all the same.

Sitting on the rocks and looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water, Billy pondered this thought, but came to no conclusion from it. The crew of the ship was docked here for the night, on a regular supply run. It was also a chance for the men to stretch their legs, flirt with local women, blow off steam; gear up for the next bit on the ship.

It had been a long night of drinking and roughhousing, and truly, Billy was exhausted by it all. The usual distractions hadn’t sufficed, and now he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the thoughts he’d previously stuffed into the recesses of his mind.

Piracy was far from his first choice in lifestyle, but he’d had little choice in the matter. Growing up by the sea meant he’d taken to the work easily, and he got along with the crew well enough, but his inner voice irked him. It wasn’t honest work, he knew. And sometimes when he was tying a knot or leaning over the railing, he saw his life stretched out before him if he continued on this path. An endless path of mopping, sailing, robbing. He hated how it played out before his eyes. 

Shaking his head slightly, Billy began to strip his clothes off, deciding maybe a night swim would clear his head and get it back to normal. It was never good when he got too deep into thought- it only made things worse for a future version of himself. 

Summertime made the water warmer than it would have been otherwise, and he left all his clothes on the rock, sliding down into the water. The slight chill sent his thoughts scattering back into the dark from whence they came, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. A little while in the ocean and they ought to stay where he wanted them for a good while, maybe even until the next time the crew came to port.

Since it was dark, he floated on his back, unashamed of his nude state. He was definitely far enough away from the village that nobody would be able to see him without coming real close. Relishing in the quiet of it, he breathed the salt air and closed his eyes briefly.

While some found the sea terrifying due to the unknown of it all, Billy was comforted by the mystery. His mother had told him young that the water was like a woman; an untamable enigma. One could only fully appreciate it if they leaned into the secrecy. Regarding both women and the sea, the message had served him well.

There was a sudden splash behind him, and he shifted so he was treading water. It was probably just a fish, but he’d learned quickly in his days as a sailor to keep his guard up at the first hint of danger.

Turning in a full circle, Billy saw nothing. Just the moonlit water. The waves lapped gently at his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. A human wouldn’t have been able to hide this easily. An animal would have swum far from him by now.

He moved a little closer to the rocks just in case, keeping an eye on the horizon. Putting one hand on the rough surface of the boulder that held his clothes, he peered at the water below. Nothing, as expected. It was stupid to think he’d be able to see even a foot under.

Another splash. Billy jolted, whipping his head around. He was getting suspicious. “Anyone near?” he called, squinting as if that would make the visage of darkness clearer.

There was the sound of a body in water. A human body. Reaching up for his pistol on the rock, he half-shouted, “I know you’re there! I can hear ya.” Billy stretched his arm. The gun was just out of reach. “Come about!”

Just as he was convinced he’d made the whole thing up, there was a movement in the shadow of the rock a little ways from him, maybe ten feet. Something was hiding.

Intrigued, he stopped trying to grab his pistol. A feeling told him his unknown companion wasn’t a threat. Billy cocked his head, focusing on the spot. “I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Slowly, the creature revealed itself from the shadows. The pale light of the moon revealed more than he thought it would. He saw it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a woman. And a stunning one at that.

You were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Beauty so rare it felt otherworldly. Long, wet hair sticking to your breasts, and he could tell they were bare under that. Your shoulders were uncovered, except by spiderwebs of hair.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. There was a magnetic quality to you that he couldn’t shy away from, that he wouldn’t if he had a choice. You blinked at him owlishly, innocently. “Are you a human?”

Oh, your voice. Lilting and light and only comparable to music. He regained his bearings, realizing the odd question. “‘Course. Were ya expectin’ the kraken?”

You tilted your head, gliding closer to him. He felt his heart palpitate as he got a better view. Now he could see the water clinging to your skin and eyelashes, your goosebumps from the night air. It felt like he was being studied, but somehow he didn’t mind. With anyone else it would have been bothersome. With you…he was happy to have caught your attention.

Reaching out, you took one of his hands in your smooth ones and examined it, turning it over once. You traced a finger over the veins, the bones. It was as if you’d never seen one before. Your touch set him on fire.

He realized the oddity of the situation. “What…what’re ya doin’?”

“It’s just the same as mine,” you held out one of your hands for comparison, flexing the fingers.

“I’d imagine it is.” His mind was half and half. One part grounded, the other transfixed by you, hanging onto your every move. 

Shifting closer to him, your eyes wandered over his chest, his face, his hair, as if you were looking for something. Billy swallowed. “Is…is everything okay?”

“You’re just like the men we’ve got,” you said distractedly, not answering his question. 

“How different are the fellas where you come from?” Billy asked, a thousand unasked questions on his tongue. 

“Not much, apparently,” you said as your eyes roved over him. “Except-” your gaze fell below the water, and he got the distinct impression that you were looking between his legs. Suddenly remembering he was nude, Billy reached a hand down to cover himself, cheeks flushing even though it was dark. 

“I…uh…” he stuttered, then remembered the water was pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to see him. He removed his hand, shifting a little closer to you now. “What’re ya doin’ out here so late?”

“I like night swimming,” you explained, not providing a reason for your state of undress. Billy wasn’t in any place to judge, since he was in the same way, but it was just so rare for women to be so unashamedly naked like this. Not the women he’d met anyways; you were clearly something different. Something special. 

Still peering down into the water, you were squinting a bit. Again, he felt like you were looking at a bit of him he didn’t normally show just anyone. “It’s dark…maybe if I got a closer look-” You made like you were going to dive down, and Billy quickly caught you by the shoulders.

“Ah…let’s not get so close, dontcha think?” he smiled boyishly, slightly distracted by how silky your hair was even though it was wet. 

You seemed to understand. “Maybe another time.” As he was holding your shoulders, Billy sunk a little deeper, and you perked up. “Here, let me help you.” Gently, you pushed him against the rock, just holding him there. He was surprised by your strength. Not that women couldn’t be that way, but he was a fully grown man. Yet another strange thing to categorize. But the more unconventional you were, the more of a desire he felt to know you.

“Do ya…do ya come here often?” he asked, trying to learn something about the strange woman by the rocks. 

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” you smiled, and his heart stuttered. “My father doesn’t like it when I stray too far.”

“Especially when you’re meetin’ strange men after dark I’ll bet,” Billy grinned, and you laughed, pretty and clear.

“I don’t imagine he’d like that very much, no,” you sighed. “Especially since you’re…you know…” you nodded at his body.

He nodded back, his grin still evident. “Ah, yeah. Ain’t imaginin’ he’d be too pleased if he knew I wasn’t wearin’ anythin’ either.”

You frowned confusedly. “It’d probably be more about you being human.”

Now he was lost. “Now…why’d that be an issue? You’re…”

There was a beat of silence. You drew back a little, fidgeting with your fingers. Lips rounding in an oh shape, you swam back further, shyly. Leaning back a little and biting your lip nervously, you lifted your tail out of the water. A long, shimmery fish tail.

Billy’s eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly your fascination with his anatomy made sense. He moved closer curiously, but you drew back, looking slightly frightened.

Recognizing it, he stayed where he was, instead outstretching a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just…surprised is all.” Some of the men on the crew had spoken of dangerous women with tails who sang sailors to their deaths and made them mad with lust, and he hadn’t known whether to believe them. But here you were in front of him…harmless, shy and inquisitive.

Reemphasizing his hand, he gave you a smile. “I just ain’t never seen any merfolk before, not in person. But I ain’t gonna do nothin’ bad.”

Looking from his face to his hand, you cautiously moved closer. Billy nodded encouragingly, trying to coax you over. An idea struck him. “I’ll letcha look at my…” he looked down between his legs. “...sometime.”

Your eyes lit up at that. Cautiously, you reached your hand over to his, your soft meeting his rough. He brought you closer, so your stomachs were a breath’s width from touching. 

Now that he had you here he was even more enchanted. He knew why he’d been so drawn to you; no doubt it was a part of your mermish characteristics. But there was something else here, something sparkling. Your eyes were like the sea, tumultuous and secretive, and he liked that.

Lean into it.

Billy dipped his head and caught your lips in a brief kiss. You tasted like salt, which only made him thirsty for more. When he pulled back, he saw your eyes were wide like the full moon behind him. “What was that?”

He smiled. “A kiss.” Reaching up, he thumbed the side of your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You searched his eyes. “We don’t do that where I come from.”

“Ah,” he watched your expression. “Did you like it?”

Adorably, your brow furrowed slightly in thought. Then you slowly nodded, lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “Yes.”

Billy hummed, his fingers finding the spot under your chin. “Do ya…wanna do it again?”

A slow smile came to your face, and you nodded again, tilting your head up and waiting, looking expectantly at him. He chuckled slightly, the hand that had been holding yours sliding around your waist and pulling you into him. Now he could feel the line where your skin ended and your tail began. Soft and sleek, all of you was.

“Close your eyes,” he said warmly, and you obeyed, your chin still lifted. Smiling at the sight of you, waiting to be kissed, he committed the image to memory. Your eyelashes were touching your skin, causing a pearl of water to fall from one of them, looking like a tear. Skin glowing from the light of the moon, hair wet and curling over your torso, you were a vision.

Then he leaned down and moved his lips against yours again, feeling like every star in the sky had decided to smile upon him that night.

Maybe he’d imagined he could be captivated by a mermaid, but he never dreamed he’d be kissing one.

Billy felt your hands slide up his chest, seemingly testing the waters. He smiled against your lips, nuzzling his nose on your cheek. His hand lifted to slide into your hair, holding the back of your head and pushing your mouth onto his.

You seemed unsure what to do with your hands as they were settled on his shoulders. Billy sensed it and took his other hand off your waist, fingers grasping your hand and dragging it into his hair. It seemed that instinct took over, and your fingers combed through his curls, eliciting a quiet groan from him. 

Pressing your chest into his, you folded your arms around his neck, your hand remaining in his hair. The action lifted your body further up, and he lowered his hand to where your bottom would be if you had legs, making you shiver against him.

Pulling back slightly, he ended the kiss with a few gentle pecks, slowly easing you out of it.

Your smile when he opened his eyes was radiant. Billy traced his hand up your bare back, stringing through your salt strewn locks.

“Why do humans do that?” you asked in a hazy way, smiling sweetly up at him. 

He returned it, feeling happy in a carefree, foolish way. “To…show other people ya…ya like ‘em. Cause it feels nice.” He stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did it feel nice for ya?” That part was asked in a whisper.

Your eyes were soft, slightly stormy in the best way. “I liked it.”

Billy smiled and leaned in for another kiss, but you lifted your head suddenly, as if you’d heard something. He frowned. “Are you-?”

“I have to go,” you said hurriedly, fixing your eyes back on his. Carefully, you pressed your lips to his for a slow kiss goodbye, and he felt like he was floating.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his arms and the last thing he saw was the glimmer of your tail on the horizon. 

Billy didn’t move for a moment, dazed by you. He took in a breath, laughing slightly in disbelief.

A mermaid. He’d kissed a mermaid. And it had been like fireworks.

Next part

[swappingbryn]

Best Purchase

I knew I would likely not be able to achieve ALL my fitness goals, but I still wanted to try and achieve some of them. I was on the wrong side of 30, not balding but my head was thinning, I gained the “freshman 15” and it grew like compound interest, and I had little visible muscle.

After a year of strict diet, exercise, supplements, I had lost about 20 pounds of fat, gained some muscle, but I was fat from where I wanted to be and from where I thought I would be after all this hard work.

I kept seeing ads for a clothing brand “Midlife Changes,” which I only remembered because I thought it was strange that a company called “midlife” would have only influencers as models. However, they had lots of five star reviews and nothing below a 4, but the weird thing was that all the reviews were short or had no comments. Their prices were high, so I only bought a shirt from the clearance page called “Ragin Ray.”

It arrived in a small, nondescript package a week later (since I refused to pay for expedited shipping). Inside the package was a note thanking me for my purchase, a request to leave a review once I was satisfied, and instructions. I thought it was strange to include instructions with a shirt, but figured it was just washing instructions, but it was a detailed note explaining how to use it. I was to shower, then wear it to bed, the entire following day, making sure to work out as much as possible, not to shower or remove it, and sleep in it once more, and only then should I remove it and shower and then was the shirt. I thought it was stupid, but figured I had nothing to lose. I waited until Friday night, so I’d have all day Saturday to follow the instructions, I showered, put on the short and went to bed.

I woke up the next day and I felt different, and once I saw myself, I realized I was at lease 10 years younger. I wasn’t big, but I was younger, and with the extra time, I knew I could make better gains.

I wore the shirt all day as instructed, and went to the gym for two hours that morning, when I’m usually exhausted after one hour. Went home for lunch, I wanted to shower since I smelled but I held out, then knowing I couldn’t go out with friends or do anything since I was sweaty and smelly, I went back to the gym. I did another 3 hours. I was drenched in sweat but still felt good. When I went to the locker room, I saw my reflection, I was amazed, I was huge.

I went home, had a small dinner and went to bed. I refused to deviate from the instructions. I woke up Sunday and KNEW something was different. I ran to the bathroom and realized I was even bigger. As per the instructions, I removed the shirt, got in the shower and explored my body. It felt amazing, huge muscles, hard abs, and my dick was almost 9”. I exited the shower and when I entered my room, it was all different, trophies all over the wall, messy bed, a desk, and a closet full of clothes that for me, the new me.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my phone and wallet and went to the gym. When I arrived, the desk attendant, who never paid attention to me before, said “what’s going Ray? Party last night?” I mumbled agreement and kept going. I checked my wallet in the locker room and saw a new ID, I’m Joel Raymond Edwards, 24 years old.

This was the best purchase I’ve ever made, and I made sure to leave a 5 star review, but only write “best purchase ever, love this shirt.”

@kiwineeds

[tw1l1te]

In your opinion who do you think in the chain in most flusterable to the guide showing skin and being flirty?

OOhhhhh This is gonna be funnn~

Based on my personal headcanons and others' fanfics I've read, I think that Sky, Hyrule, and Wild would be the most flustered at our guide being flirtatious and showing more skin than they're used to.

However, that's not to say they're the only ones, the others are just better at hiding it.

Let's take it from the top!

Warnings: VERY SUGGESTIVE, NSFW

Minors do NOT interact

Sky

Our cute sleepyhead is beet-red. Absolutely in flames.

It was supposed to be a quiet, typical morning in Skyloft. He would get up and make some tea and look at the Sky before meeting up with the rest of the Chain.

But of course you decided to go on a jog that morning, wearing nothing besides a sports bra and shorts, as you tended to overheat during exercise.

Being so exposed in any of their eras was unheard of, so of course it was a sight to see, particularly for Sky.

The way your chest bounced with every movement, pearls of sweat dribbling down into the crevice between your breasts. He wondered what it would taste like on the tip of his tongue, licking each bead of salty sweat.

The way your hips moved in tandem with your jogging, expertly keeping up with the movement of your legs. Hips that he would grip while he rammed his cock into you, hitting the spongy spot every. Single. Time.

The way your face was pink and rosy from the slight chill in the air, but also running for so long, nearing exhaustion. Your tear-brimmed eyes looking up at him as you took him entirely in your mouth, whimpering at how full you felt.

You suddently waved at him, smiling and yelling something you taking a shower.

You threw a wink over your shoulder at him as you left him behind

Was that an invitation?

Hyrule

He wasn't sure if he loved or hated Wind's era for this.

Going on Tetra's ship for a side quest was the last place he expected for something like this to happen but... he wasn't complaining. Hell, none of them were.

You saunter out from under the deck, wearing nothing but a "string bikini" (as you call it)

Hyrule.exe has stopped working

Wars had to snap him out of his staring, as he was starting to drool

You walk up to him and sit down, looking out onto the ocean

"Eyes up here, Fairy boy."

He fumbles around trying to come up with an excuse while you double over in laughter, he was too in shock to process anything

Once he calms down, you both continue looking out onto the expanse of the horizon, sun begininng to set

He tried to ignore the way the sun illuminated your body, all the small scars and curves in your body highlighting your features

"You know.... I wore this lil' number particularly for you, Rulie. Seems like you like it." you whisper, nipping lightly at his ear.

Before he can respond or formulate a thought, you get up and hold out your hand

"Care to go for a swim, Fairy boy?"

You were gonna be the death of him.

Wild

Wild liked to think he was pretty good at keeping his composure, after all, he was a stoic knight in his past life.

That's not to say he doesn't show emotion, he's so much more open know and genuinely laughs and smiles ever since he woke up from his century long slumber.

So when all of you returned back to his era, he was ecstatic to show you around more, as last time you dind't get much of a chance to.

What he didn't take into account is that you would be sharing a bed with him.

Sweet goddesses, he wasn't gonna be able to sleep for days.

He was right

The first night cam around and the Chain setup their sleeping mats on the lower level of his home, shifting some of the funiture to make sure they all fit, while you went under the stairs to change

Wild was anxiously pacing upstairs, biting his finger nails.

This is fine, its fine! There's nothing weird about two friends sleeping next to each other, if that's what you can call your situationship with him and the seven older boys. It's fine! It's only a night- oh sweet Hylia you were wearing the shortest nightdress he's ever seen-

You yawn as you stretch, one of the straps falling off of your shoulder.

Mother of- he's done for. He's so done for.

You make your way to his bed, crawling up to the side closest to the wall. Peeking over your shoulder, you look at him, his face illuminated by the candle on the nightstand.

"You getting in bed with me or what?"

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 76 (A Happy Harvestfest With One Greedy Little Genius)

Despite their busy schedules with work, Heather and Conrad hosted most of her family in Brindleton Bay for Harvestfest dinner. Ash would start school soon, and Heather could scarcely believe how fast time had gone. It seemed only yesterday she brought him home from the hospital in Henford where he was born.

Heavily pregnant herself, Heather's sister Holly spent most of the night napping in the upstairs guestroom, while her husband Kris and daughter Tetra hid out in the bathroom when the number of strange people made the infant uncomfortable. But otherwise the house was full of love and celebration, just as Harvestfest was meant to be.

Everyone ate so much there were no turkey leftovers! And though Heather was an incredible chef who had mastered gourmet cooking in their quest for ambrosia, Conrad stepped up to make this year's grand meal. Not only would it help him with his own cooking skill in their quest, it let very-pregnant Heather rest and enjoy the day with her family.

By the time everyone left, they were exhausted but content that nothing had spontaneously caught fire this time, unlike their last Spooky Day party.

A few weeks after his birthday, Ash lost his first tooth. A little genius with perhaps a hint of Landgraab greed, he was so excited for the Tooth Fairy's visit, Heather worried he'd try to pull the rest of his teeth before they were ready to fall out!

"Are you going to put that tooth under your pillow tonight?" asked Conrad.

Ash shook his head. "No, I'm gonna save it and take it to Daddy's! He told me when he was a kid, his Tooth Fairy gave him ten whole simoleons - per tooth!" Heather and Conrad exchanged wry looks. "With inflation, who knows how rich she is now!"

Conrad laughed as Heather balked. "How do you know about inflation? You're five."

"Gramma Nancy taught me about inflation," he said with a shrug. "She said when I run the company one day, I'll have to know a lot."

Heather forced a smile, but later that night she texted Malcolm.

So this is weird. I heard your Tooth Fairy got caught in the last recession and the going rate for our son's teeth is still ten simoleons.

Malcolm: ...Did he bring up inflation?

Ten! (Which is still outrageous) No more! And don't let your mother make him feel like he has to run Landgraab Corp. one day!

Malcolm: Alright, I'll tell him. I swear.

And your mother...?

He didn't respond. Even if Malcolm couldn't or wouldn't pick this battle with his mother, Heather wanted her son to work harder for whatever he wanted in life than his father ever had. She wanted him to understand responsibility despite the privileges he'd been born into.

He took out the trash, cleaned the litter boxes, fed the animals - even the beetles in the insect farm, and always did his homework. He even loved to help Conrad rake the leaves as long as he could jump and play in them when they were done!

Just as outgoing as he was as a toddler, he spent as much time as he could with his friends. He loved playing on the pirate ship by the wharf with Scotti Holiday, whose parents, Summer and Travis, had befriended Heather over numerous trips to the vet with the Holidays' dog, Kona.

"Be glad there's only going to be one at home," Scotti said. "Mateo is annoying and all Courtney does is make messes." She was about a year older than Ash. Even though he was a genius, he thought six-year-old Scotti knew more about life than he ever could.

"I'll have another one soon too, but that brother or sister will live in San Myshuno with my dad."

"Do you see your dad a lot?"

Ash shrugged. "Not as much as you see yours. I see Conrad all the time, though."

"But Detective Gordon's not even your stepdad. He can't even discipline you when you do something bad."

"I don't really do bad things..."

Scotti laughed. "You're so funny, Ash Landgraab."

Even as Heather and Conrad marveled at how fast Ash had grown, the days passed at a snail's pace as they waited for his little brother or sister to be born. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The pose before the cut is from the Us 3 pose pack by @katverse. I used the all-in-one version (there are 5 poses) and caught them between pose flips, but I also caught Gord breaking into the shot! So this is now one of my favourite family portraits on the walls of their home. 🥰

NOTE 2: I'm itching to post Saturday's post early. Should I do it or is Saturday fine? It's a really good episode. 👀

[amarmoria]

Thinking about an alternative ending (or this thing that kept repeating in my head) with @rebelscums! Qimir x Padawan!Reader🤭 (I luv your Qimir fics sm please don't die)

Like the part where Sol's saber was already slowly burning dove's neck and Qimir says he didn't care about you and your screaming because of the searing heat that's going through the layers of tissue and because your master cares more about Mae than he ever will you, so your like all I'm giving up and let me die status, there's fat crocodile tears sliding down your cheeks and you can't stop it, not when you you've mastered this already, but it's like the feeling of your mother having another child she prefers over you but this is like your master, the one making your pussy aching, and like your depressed that your going to die and the last thing you see is your master monster cock bae with his fav acolyte (not like you ever were✋)

Then (imagine there's still a few jedi's left from Sol's crew, zaddy will kill them anyways) Sol's small backup comes to ambush Qimir and to Sol's advantage too because he now has the chance to grab you and bring you to their ship instead of killing you, half of what he said not long ago was true, that you can be a great jedi if you wanted to.

"Master.."

"It's alright, we're almost, almost there" Sol huffs, holding your arm tightly over his shoulder and his other hand on your waist, you eye the lightsaber on his belt, it's so, so close, just a little more.

"Eyes forward, find our ship."

"I ca— can't, it's," you pause, not having the strength to finish the sentence. "I'm sorry, for, for earlier I— I didn't want to—"

"It's fine, just.." you hiss, clutching the side of your abdomen where the pain continued throbbing, it doesn't even help that you also have a burn on your neck.

"You're gonna be okay, keep your eyes open, breathe for me alright?" You couldn't hear what he was saying anymore, not when the ringing of your ears started blending every sound that nears you, maybe it was the pain, or the after burn, but all you could think about was how your master, no no, Qimir was looking at Mae despite the choking— in fact he couldn't look at you like that when he doesn't even choke you like that (ykyk?)

Ugh your heart can't take that kinda rejection, it's way too much.

"Padawan!"

Your thoughts were snapped when Sol lightly slapped your cheeks, your legs began working again and limped beside him as the both of you course through the thick forest.

"Can you feel him? Where is he?" He heaves, readjusting you so that you won't slide down. "He.. I, he's not—"

A force separates you from Sol, his back pivots to a large tree while you gracefully slide down a small hill full of bushes, one of which the leaves poking through your burn making you hiss and cover it with your hand but then you realize it burns even more with the soil and dirt stuck on your palms.

You kept fighting your eyes from closing, not now, not when you don't know what your escape plan is, not when your big juicy bae is there (you don't know that yet), you groaned and gave yourself a violent slap, maybe it's force that wants to keep you awake, ready, on guard.

You hear leaves crunching from behind you, but you can't bring yourself to turn, no matter how much your foot tries to turn you over, your body's just exhausted, tired, aching, you want to go home.

Home

Where is home now when your master has already decided to disown you, where will you go, stay. The buzzing of a lightsaber nears behind you, threatening, red, and hot. Only when you hear tackling behind you then your body opt to turn over, you whine when your side hit the floor again, clutching your sides tightly like it's going to fall out.

You witness the two sabers, green and red, clashing against each other, ironic little detail because I once thought green and red crayons were enemies, ANYWAYS, Qimir kept his face bare, no mask this time, you snort, if you even can, his karma for doing you bad like that. You could feel yourself getting lost at the distant lights dancing around each other, you couldn't hear them clearly, only muffled grunts was all you can process.

"She's not leaving—"

"You've abandoned her right in front of her eyes, don't even think for a second that she'll come back to you," Sol pauses, overthrowing the red but Qimir quickly regains his stance, separating the one saber into two.

"I'm her last hope, she has no one to teach her anything other than me"

"You're wrong—"

"Oh like you'll take her in and turn her into some jedi?" His laugh sounded almost manic, before aiming for Sol's neck although Sol acted fast and dodged, blocking the attack just in time, if he was only a second late, we would've had a rolling head coming right at you.

Ugh idk how to even end this🙄

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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

There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.  

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca

[colibrie]

Uncharted Territory, part one.

All love and credit to @trilobitepunch, for the amazing art work,the listening ear, and the endless encouragement. You are amazing Trilo!

“I’ve got snacks!”

Mikeys cheery voice cut through the racetrack of his thoughts, shepherding Leo’s attention back to the bustle and hum of the fuel depot. His younger brother was skipping towards him, boxes of ration bars and a few brightly colored bags filling his arms to near bursting. 

“The selections not that great,” Mikey continued, cheeks puffing in annoyance as he reached Leo, hopping comically on one leg as he fought to open the cargo hatch with his toes. “But I did manage to finagle two boxes of the better rations out of the shop keep, aaaaaand she even threw in some of those sweet sticks I like!”

“The ones dad banned you from having because of that time you were literally bouncing off the walls?” Leo teased, leaning casually against the ship’s hull as he flashed a smirk at his baby brother. “Force help us all.”

“Leeeeo!” Mikey whined, beak wrinkling in embarrassment as he scowled affronted at big brother. “I was six! Don’t be a jerk!”

“Hey, as the only other person stuck in an incredibly small ship with you for the foreseeable future, I think I have a right to be concerned!” Leo goaded, reaching out to casually flip the fuel valve off as the warning chime sounded. 

“Just for that, I’m gonna hide the good rations from you,” Mikey shot back as the hatch finally opened with a soft hiss. “You get the spinach and spiva protein flavors, while I get the strawberry and chocolate.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you got strawberry?!” Leo squawked, arms flailing as he spun around, feet briefly slipping on the steel grating. “Hand em over!”

“No!” Mikey jeered, sticking out his tongue as he shoved the boxes and bags into the hold.

“Miiiikey.”

“Who’s the funny one now Leon?!”

“Your face,” Leo muttered lamely, pursing his lips into an exaggerated pout as he disconnected the hose. He projected a cloak of sulky energy, shaking his head with covert fondness as Mikey crowed in triumph and bit into one of his sweet sticks. He could let his little brother think he’d won this round. At least one of them deserved to laugh through this.

He blinked, and the world fell away once more.

Crimson blades reflecting off obsidian armor. The wall crumbling under his shell, like wet tissue paper. Screams of anger and fear as the darkness closed in, air cut off as something heavy twisted his lungs…

“So!” Mikey’s voice snapped Leo back once more to the fluorescently lit present. The smaller turtle had ducked under the shuttle’s wing and now stood at his side, oblivious to Leo’s lapse in attention as he worked with way through his treat. “What do we do now?”

Leo quickly turned away, scowling at the fuel hose as he wound in back into the holder.

“What do you mean?” he asked, proud of how even his voice stayed as he worked to get his face back into a casual smile.

“I mean, we’ve covered step one, right? We’re far enough away from home that no one will recognize us. We’ve got a full tank of fuel and enough rations to last two weeks if we play things right. What’s step two? How are we going to get Raph and Donnie back?”

“First off, we are going not talking about things where anyone passing by could hear us,” Leo chided under his breath, turning back to Mikey with a roll of his eyes.

“There’s hardly anyone around!” Mikey protested.

“And there are even less people around in hyperspace,” Leo retorted, flicking his fingers in a dismissive shooing motion, “so go start the pre-flight checks so we can get out of here.”

“Ugh! Fine! Be that way,” Mikey groaned, stomping away towards the cockpit with an energy only the youngest member of a family could muster.

Leo watched him go, sucking in a subtle breath through his teeth once his sibling was safely ensconced within the metal walls of the ship. He let his body sag for a second, leaning his temple against the riveted metal. Exhaustion seemed to press in from every angle, cheerfully reminding him of how large his sleep debt had grown in the week since they’d left their home and their father behind. How many nights his insomnia kept him awake, listening to Mikey’s squeaky snores while his thoughts raced at double time. Hours spent staring out the view screen as stars blurred past, fighting to keep his gritty eyes open as incomprehensible nightmares hounded the darkness behind his eyelids. What little sleep he had found was haunted by his twins’ parting words, repeated over and over like a tattoo beaten into his brain.

Find me. I need you. Find me. I need you. Find me. I need you. Find me, find me, find me…

I’m coming. I swear.

“Cmon Leon,” he muttered, pushing himself upright, shaking out his sluggish limbs and angling body towards the hatch as the engines hummed to life. “You got this.”

“Good job on the pre-flight munchkin,” Leo called, plastering a bright grin as he sauntered through the door. “Now outa my chair.”

“Doesn’t have your name on it,” Mikey supplied the rote reply, fingers tapping a happy beat on the consul. “I can launch us.”

“Not on your life brat,” Leo answered as he shoved his brother out of the pilot’s seat, snickering at the indignant squawk that followed.

The controls were comforting weight in his palms as he smoothly guided the ship up and out of station, the restless need to move in his soul settling slightly as velvety folds of the cosmos greeted them once more.

“Can we talk about things now?!” Mikey asked peevishly, flopping into the copilot seat.

“Sure. We can talk. We can talk about the stars, or the latest holo’s. Or where you put those strawberry ration bars. Or-”

“Leeeeeeeo,” Mikey cut in, drawing his brother’s name out in a sing-song tone that barely covered the hard edge reflected in his smile. “What’s the plan? I know you have one, you always do.”

“Of course I have a plan,” Leo hedged, careful to keep his eyes forward and smile easy as Mikey eagerly leaned in towards him.

Perhaps “plan” was a generous way to describe the looped track of findthemfindthemfindthem that had dominated his mind from the moment he’d stormed away from their father, drowning in a hurricane of disbelief and fury. He could not remember where he’d gone to wait out the remainder of that day, or what he might have done. He could barely remember sneaking back into the house to fill a bag with clothes, food, and a few meaningful trinkets. The need to move, to do, to fix things had simply been to great for rational thought to penetrate.

Finding Mikey waiting by the shuttle that night had been like a bucket of ice water to the face, the tempest of his emotions spluttering under his baby brother’s boundless spirit and unyielding will. Every smile, laugh, and hug soothed the embers further, calming the storm enough for clearer thoughts to fill his sleepless nights. Thoughts that wasted little time in confirming just how supremely stupid he’d been acting. Donnie and Raph out matched them in both strength and training, and if their last meeting was any indication, neither was likely to be open to simply talking things through. Mikey’s force abilities were fledgling, and Leo’s were inconsistent and unstable at the best of times. Following his feelings would have led him straight into an early grave. and now it wasn’t just Leo’s shell on the line.

Leo could admit, if only to himself, that he was still flying utterly blind through this. He did not have a plan. No clear course to retrieving those they had lost. But Mikey didn’t need to know that. Leo was nothing if not a proficient performer. Short a plan, he reached for his next best skill, improvisation.

“We are never going to match the people who have Raph and Donnie as we are now. They've proven they can wipe the floor with us,” Leo started as he sat back in the pilot’s chair, idly scooping up a spare gasket to roll through his fingers as he stared hard out the view screen.  

“What’s this “with us”? I seem to recall only one of us getting their shell beat,” Mikey answered with a proud smirk, only to let out another squawk as the gasket nailed him between the eyes.

“As I was saying,” Leo grumbled, “If we want to stand a chance of saving our brothers, we need to get stronger. And to do that we'll need a proper teacher.”

“But who could do that?” Mikey questioned, absently chewing on his lower lip as he cocked his head in thought. “All the Jedi are dead.”

“Splinter survived with two kids in tow,” Leo countered, smiling his most confident smile as he piloted them away from the fuel station. “If he could do it, I am sure there had to have been others who got out and went to ground.”

“Yeah, but… finding a random Jedi hiding in the galaxy… isn’t that is like finding a needle hidden in an ocean of needles?”

“You’re right,” Leo acknowledged, thinking hard. “But we aren’t looking for any random Jedi. We… are… going to find Master Karai. She was Da-Splinters Master. If anyone survived the purge, it would be her, I know it. We just need to find her somehow.”

“Oh!” Mikey perked up, sparks dancing in his smile as he reached out and unsteadily called the holocron to him with a wave of his palm. “We can use dads holocron and the force to find her!”

“Huh?!”

“If she was dad’s master, then he must have gone a lot of places with her. Places she might have gone to hide when the temple was destroyed. If we use the force to look through the maps, maybe it will tell us which one.” Mikey reasoned, tongue poking out between his lips as he tossed the glowing cube between his palms.

“A nice thought, but that's not how the force works Mikey,” Leo declined with a shake of his head.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“How come?”

“It just…doesn’t?”

“That doesn’t sound like a good reason to not try. The recordings of Master Plo Koon said that the force is in everything.”

“It is, but it is not like my magic tricks Angelo. It can’t just make things appear,” Leo tried to explain, struggling to dig back into hazy memories of temple classrooms and supreme boredom. “They told us Jedi masters could use it to pick out individual force signatures in a crowd, but only if they were familiar with the person or knew what to look for. I mean, not even Grandmaster Yoda could find someone all the way across the galaxy!”

“Master Plo also said the force has a will of its own. What if the force wants us to find her?” Mikey countered, staring hard at the holocron before looking up at Leo with hope burning strong and bright. “It led Raph and Donnie to us, I know it. And, I don’t think it would have done that if it didn’t want us to help them. If finding Master Karai is what we need to do that, then I just…I have a feeling the force will steer us in the right direction.”

“Mike…”

“What do we lose by trying?” Mikey coaxed, holding out the holocron.

“It’s…yeah, okay. Sure. Knock yourself out,” Leo sighed, looking away with half shrug.

“We. We can knock ourselves out. Because we are going to do it together.”

“Uh, no we are not! Do I need to remind you of all the reasons why it would be really bad for me to try to use the force? Particularly in a tiny ship in the middle of outer space?!”

“I don’t remember her. Not like you do. And you were the one who just said that a Jedi needed to know the person they were looking for. You don’t have to do anything big, just try to focus on your memories of her. What did she look and sound like? How did she feel in the force? Tell me about it, and I’ll handle the razzmatazz side!”  

Maybe it was the sleepless nights, or the lack of better options no matter how hard he scoured his brain for one. Maybe it was that he had never developed a full proof defense against Mikey’s “please” face. Either way…

“Fiiiine,” he groaned, engaging the autopilot with a flick of his wrist before flopping back in his seat. “I want it on the record that I am humoring you, because there is no way that is going to work. And I am calling the right to rubbing it in when it doesn’t work.”

“And I will be happy to make you eat an “I told you so” sandwich when it totally does.” Mikey replied, beaming. “Now let’s do this!”

Leo reluctantly swiveled the pilot’s chair to face his brother, knocking their knees together. Mikey released the cube, the device opening as it rose to float between them.

“Man, this is stupid,” Leo muttered, begrudgingly holding his hands out, palms turned towards the cube as though warming them on the world’s worst campfire.

“You’re being stupid,” Mikey replied absently, copying Leo from the other side. “Stop complaining and tell me about Master Karai.”

“What’s there to say? She was a dedicated Jedi. She was awesome with lightsaber combat and could be strict when it came to training.”

“How did you meet her?” Mikey coaxed.

“She volunteered to take shifts in the creche whenever she rotated back to the temple,” Leo replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself before reaching back into cobweb covered memories. “She could be a bit awkward sometimes, but she…she cared.”

Leo smiled faintly, eyes slowly losing focus as his attention turned inward, mind wandering further down the paths of remembrance.

“She was loyal to the council, but she never really followed their stances on not forming attachments. Even though she wasn’t in the creche often, she was one of the few people who took the time to understand the four of us. Our personalities and what we needed as individuals. You used to spend time between her visits drawing her all kinds of pictures, then you’d make her sit down and go through each and everyone of them. She’d give you her full attention, every time.”

“She sounds nice,” Mikey murmured, eyes falling to half-mast as he tried to reach for that fickle feeling of the force inside of him.

“She was one of the few that had the patience to understand Donnie, to see him for the genius he was. She never scolded him for things he couldn’t control. She tried to learn what set him off, and tried to get things that would help him cope when I wasn’t there, even though it was against the rules. And she was always there as a listening ear for Raphie. He always looked out for us, but Karai was the one he went to most with his problems. She could always tell when he was getting upset, and she’d take him somewhere to let him blow off steam.”

“And what about you?” Mikey mumbled, closing his eyes fully as something warm bloomed in his chest. Something that crackled like the brightest bonfire, filled him from head to toe with warmth. It swirled in his veins, happy to dance, happy to be, yet unhappy to be so alone. It stretched instinctively towards a distant, cloudy aura, a weak glimmer of deep blue lightning flavored with ozone and storm winds. Seeking, searching.

“She got me,” Leo trailed off.

Lightning blue flinched, shying away as the golden fire prodded it.

“What did she look like? What did she feel like? Do you remember?” Mikey mumbled, fire following some unspoken instinct to keep going. Between them the holocron began to rapidly cycle through maps.  

“She was about my current height. Long black hair. She liked to wear two strands down by her face with the rest pulled back. Light skin, black eyes. She liked to wear long green robes while at the temple, and we used to love to pretend to hide in them. She was…she felt like your favorite blanket after a day in the cold, or my favorite cup of tea. Soft and reliable, and safe…”

Fire hummed. Lightning sparked, finding that tiny, barely mended gap.  

“She made us feel safe.”

For a moment, lightning touched fire. Something snagged, a loop of thread pulling tight. Mikey snapped his hands closed, holding onto it with everything he had. The holocron went still, washing the cockpit with a triumphant glow as it presented the chosen map.

“Omigosh it worked!” Mikey cheered, eyes snapping open to eagerly take in their new destination. They had done it! He had done it!

“Take that Le…Leo?”

His older brother was pale, beak scrunched and shoulders faintly trembling with pain as they curled inward. One hand covered his eyes, fingers digging deep into the sockets as the other hand clutched his chest. Sharp breaths whistled between clenched teeth as a slick of dark red rolled steadily from his nose. The impression of wind and ozone quickly fading away as Mikey scrambled out of his seat.

“Shell Lee, I’m so sorry! What can I do?!”

“It’s fine,” Leo mumbled, leaning away from Mikey as he pulled himself upright. Enthusiasm for their accomplishment fizzled out like a dying sparkler as Mikey watched, chewing anxiously on his cheek as he frantically ran through a check list of this brother’s symptoms.

“Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Is anything numb? What’s your full name? Where are we? Who is the-“

“Whoa Angelo! Slow down. Kinda to the first, meh on the second, no on the third, and I don’t need a concussion check. It’s the usual stuff. Mainly just a headache.”

“You sure? The way you’re holding your chest-”

“Yes, I’m sure. Relax Angie, or you’ll start getting wrinkles to rival Splinter.”

The balm of relief coated his nerves as Leo relaxed back into his seat, expression shifting from a pained grimace to an indolent grin as he casually wiped his face with the back of one hand.

“Plus, I didn’t blow anything up this time, so score me some bonus points!”

Mikey huffed, gently shoving at his older brothers’ shoulder before pushing himself back to his feet. Headaches weren’t new. Headaches they could handle.

“Do you want a stim shot?” he asked, glancing at the ship’s small med kit.

“Nah,” Leo denied with a dismissive wave. “We’re better off saving supplies, just in case. I’ll just nap it off once we set coordinates for… the Yakai system?”

“Yeah, that’s what the holocron landed on! Do you know it?” Mikey inquired, leaning in to admire the holomap that still floated between their seats.

“No but look at it Mikey. There’s nothing there. Just an asteroid belt and some low-grade planets.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for a Jedi to hide out!”

“Low-grade means no organic life dumb dumb. Nothing lives there.”

“But there isn’t any harm in going to look!” Mikey rejoined, straining to lean across his brother towards the autopilot.

“Ack! Mik-sto-getoff! We aren’t wasting the fuel.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” Mikey chirped, beaming as consul chirped to indicate the successful input of the coordinates.”

“Ohmi-”

“Lets just go and have a quick look! If we don’t find anything we’ll do things your way from there. Unless you’re scared to admit I could be right…”

“…Fine. But not only do I get to rub your face in it for eternity, you’ll owe me. Whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“I can’t wait. Now go lay down. Autopilot says six hours till we reach Yakai.”

Leo whined and grumbled as he was prodded out of the pilot’s chair, dragging his feet as Mikey herded him to one of the benches.

“You nap, I’ll fly.” He insisted, pretending to ignore the dark bags gathered beneath his brothers’ eyes when he pulled off the blue mask.

“It’s not flying if the autopilot’s engaged,” Leo sniped petulantly, laying back reluctantly when Mikey pushed on his plastron.

“Whatever you say. Nighty night bro!”

[still-fatemeh]

失 しっ 敗 ぱい (shippai)

Dark era! dazai X prostitute! reader

[The reader has a name, again. Because I don't like putting the word y/n into the fic, but this isn't really an oc, you can read your name instead of the character's. Tsuneko was the name of the bartender yozo commits double suicide in No Longer Human, that results in his survival and tsuneko's death. I've written this a long time ago, its ooc and full of mistakes but bare with me I'm writing another one that's better. Dazai acts younger than his dark era counterpart but he's addressed as an executive, his age something between sixteen to seventeen. But I wrote this with fifteen dazai in mind, which makes the age of the girl a bit too messed up, so I abandoned it. She's a year younger. And yes, I stole one too many parts from the light novels 'cause my english wasn't that good at the time. Enjoy (^3^)/]

It was a dumping ground-a place long forgotten by all. Beneath the stormy sky of the night lay haphazard piles of shipping containers, one on top of the other like dead bodies. Toxic substances illegally dumped in the area seeped into the open soil. Even field mice knew to stay away.

The sound of high heels clicking on the ground and dazai's soundless dress shoes was the only thing that could be heard at such hour at night. The figure in red dress was a guest, stepping hesitantly behind dazai. Tsuneko had been doubting her decision one too many times now, but was following him meekly nonetheless.

Not located on any map, this was the loneliest place in Yokohama. And near its center lived Dazai.

Dazai didn't live in a house, though. He lived inside one of the thrown-away shipping containers originally used for exporting cars to foreign countries.

As soon as dazai stopped walking, tsuneko questioned.

"Where's this, dazai-san?"

Dazai turned and looked right at her with a sheepish smile as he put his hands in his pockets.

"It's a good hideout for you tonight."

He turned back to face the front once again and took two more steps forward before stopping.

"The reason I'm taking you here is because you need a place to stay for tonight, as simple as that. And this is as far away and secluded as a place can get in the city. There's no better hiding spot for someone. Don't worry. I won't kill you."

He said with a soft and carefree laugh that made a shiver run down tsuneko's spine.

She entered the container after dazai did, as quiet as a mouse. After dazai turned on the only light, she observed the inside with a confused look.

Inside the large container was a refrigerator, an exhausted fan, a desk and chair, a bed, and a small and a naked light bulb.

"Is this where you live?"

She asked with a skeptical tone of voice.

"Unfortunately, yes."

He turned and faced her as he folded his arms behind his back.

"The organisation I work for could supply me with a house but I don't care for that kinda thing. This place is enough for me."

He tilted his head ever so slightly and stared at the ceiling for a moment as a thoughtful look came across his face.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"No, not at all... Go ahead."

Tsuneko answered as she kicked off her heels. She wasn't as tense as before. She didn't even seem uncomfortable because of the oddity that was the shipping as a home. Dazai assumed she'd seen worse, so that wasn't a big deal for her.

"What's it like living at the brothel?"

He turned and looked directly at her with a solemn expression, he then walked over to the light switch and turned it off, leaving only the gentle glow of the outside night sky shining into the container from the gaps in between the metal walls. He then took a seat back on the bed and motioned towards her.

"Sit with me."

"It's... nothing pleasant."

She finally spoke with a hint of disdain in her voice though she managed to flash him a faint smile of gratitude for sheltering her tonight as she slowly walked towards him, the sound of unsure feet stepping on the metal flooring cutting through the silence.

"Why do you wanna know?"

Tsuneko sat on the bed, giving him a glance from the corner of her eyes. Baby blue, and glassy like porcelain, shining in the dark.

"Just curious."

He smiled with his gaze still locked onto her pale, azure stare. He could understand her cautiousness and uncertainty. She had been living on the run, and she was right to be afraid of him. However, in this specific case, she had no reason to be wary. As weird as it sounds, right now dazai's intentions were pure.

"Does he hurt you a lot? The owner I mean."

Her eyes darted to the ground, looking somewhere in the darkness with a solemn face.

"He raised me, I have no right to complain. And now he wants the money he spent on me back."

She sighed, shaking her head, trying to forget the stinging wounds and the screaming, especially the night that never fades in her memory.

"But it was too much money in a really short time..."

Dazai let out a breath and looked down at the bed in a melancholy expression as he listened to her.

"So how many years of your pay go to him, then?"

His voice was soft and gentle, but his eyes were cold in an unsettling way as he waited for her reply. It was something he knew, but wanted her to say it herself.

"Two years of my pay 'til now, the filthy money that I made since I was fifteen. He wants the rest of it whole, and I have no such way of getting all that much money all of a sudden."

Her eyes were empty, they reminded him of his own when he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

She went silent a few minutes, before speaking again.

...

"I've always wondered dazai-san, is there a reason you wear bandages on the right side of your face, is there an injury?"

There wasn't an injury.

A random question, to distract herself from the demons of her past.

A slight chuckle and a grin crossed his face as he looked at her.

"There's no injury. It's purely cosmetic. I do it because it looks neat! That's pretty much it."

He then paused in thought, looking into the shadows with his one visible eye.

She merely cocked a brow at his response, her eyes glimmering in that darkness with something akin to amusement.

"I've never seen anyone use bandages as cosmetics, it's weird honestly. Are you trying to make your soul look more pretty and beautiful? Because your appearance only looks more frail and sickly with them on."

She teased, a quiet chuckle escaped her lips.

"Heh, you sure have a way with words."

He tilted his head in amusement as she teased.

"So basically you're saying I look ugly with the bandages and even more ugly without them?"

She snickered lightheartedly at his response.

"No, you're quite a handsome guy, in my opinion..."

She praised him with a giggle, it felt like a mother praising her little son in a new outfit. It didn't sound flirtatious at all.

Dazai blinked, a perplexed look flashed over him for a few moments as tsuneko praised him in a motherly way. He wasn't sure how to take it. It wasn't unpleasant just a bit strange.

"Tell you what. I'm feeling generous tonight. How about, for tonight only, you can call me dazai, just dazai. Not dazai-san. There's no need for such 'honorifics'."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wanted to keep himself detached but that little smile gave away his hidden emotions.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him with a surprised expression.

"I'm aware you don't like me asking personal questions about you but, what do you do for a living, dazai?"

He just tilted his head in a more thoughtful manner.

"You know the Port Mafia, right? Well... I'm a member of this group. Specifically an executive."

He explained it with the most casual and relaxed tone of voice possible.

She snickered even louder.

"Yeah, also, I'm not a whore, I'm an actress playing roles in hollywood!"

Tsuneko joked in an exggrated manner, not taking his statement of being a port mafia executive seriously. She thought he said it as a joke.

Port mafia was a terrifying organisation, there's no way this lump of bandages could be working there. You needed to be an inhumane monster to be able to do such dirty work and also, the money was probably filthier than the money she made.

"Where do you actually work? Or are you just loafing around in a shipping container living off unemployment benefits from the government?"

Dazai just stared at her for a moment as she spoke. Then, out of the blue, he just started laughing. And when he started laughing, he continued laughing louder and louder. At first it was just a light chuckle, but soon it turned into a hysterical laughter. He held his right arm across his chest as the left gripped his sides.

His body started shaking from the laughter as his mouth formed a wide grin.

"Why? Why do you think so hard about me being an executive of the Port Mafia? Is it impossible for you to believe?"

His hysterical laughter made tsuneko gulp hard, trying to make sense of dazai's behaviour.

He was a bit nuts, that was for sure.

"But, my guy... People like mafia executives are filthy rich, they don't live in shipping containers or go to dingy brothels for a night of fun. They are important people with loads of money, a number that you and I can't even dream of, at least I can't."

Tsuneko was just a girl. Compared to him, she was as innocent as a lamb.

She just tapped her index finger on her bottom lip in an overdramatic display of thoughtfulness.

"To me, you seem to be from a rich background. You are intelligent, educated and well-spoken and your clothes look quite expensive. Maybe just the fact that you weren't raised properly. Something happened and you aren't with your family anymore. Did they disown you or something?"

The girl's assumptions were based on her logic and proofs but only this time, she was dead wrong.

To an outsider, seeing the title of Mafia executive on a guy who could easily be mistaken for some kid would be a hilarious joke. But they wouldn't be laughing if they saw Dazai's list of achievements, a dark and bloody list.

Around half of the Port Mafia's profits those past year were all thanks to him. A little girl like her couldn't even fathom just how much money that was, nor how many lives were lost as a result.

Dazai's laughter continued as he placed his hands on his knees and hunched over in delight. His hair fell over his eyes as his voice was muffled from all the laughter.

"Oh, tsuneko-chan! What a silly little girl you are."

He looked up at the shocked and to an extent concerned girl with a wide grin.

"You're right about one thing, I came from a wealthy family. And no, I was not disowned by them. I left of my own will. Why? I was bored. The answer's simple like that. I just got bored."

She flashed him a semi-worried expression and her brow shot up in confusion upon hearing his intense laughter.

:"Are you okay, my guy? Like... are you fine? How much did you drink at that bar?"

She shook her head with faux disappointment.

"I'm completely fine."

The corners of his mouth curled up into a faint grin as he stared down at the girl.

:"You left your family, because you merely got bored?"

She asked, a little perplexed by that apathy.

:"I don't know why... But that's completely up your alley, dazai."

Tsuneko's tone shifted to a more serious one as she said that.

"Yes, it is exactly something I would do. It's not that hard to understand."

Dazai took a moment to calm himself as a more serious expression crossed his face.

"You know, you're awfully curious, tsuneko-chan. You've asked me quite a few questions."

He raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked down at her.

She gives him an unconvinced expression, her brows knitted together in confusion but she eventually just sighs softly.

"I get that a guy like you might get bored of his own family, It sounds like something you would do because, yeah, that's totally up your alley. But... But... Do you not miss them? Did you not love them? Didn't you want any of that inheritance money?"

She asked, with sincerity in her eyes. Despite the fact that her mother died in a brothel, she'd still give up her life to see her just one more time.

He stayed silent for a moment as he considered her question.

"Miss them? Love them?"

Dazai's eyes narrowed as he looked into the dark void once more.

"Of course I miss them. That kind of attachment does not disappear in a few months. And as for love...."

He closed his eyes and chuckled.

"I've heard of it before, but what exactly is love? What is 'missing' someone? I may be a simple-minded individual, but I have not yet learned any of these things."

She takes it back, he is more than a little nuts, indeed.

"Love is an attachment, an attachment to life."

Tsuneko answered, her eyes and expression blank though her tone was slightly grim.

"You wanna cherish the one that you love. That type of attachment leads to sacrifice... It's when you put someone else before yourself."

She spoke with a far off look on her face.

The word 'love'. Did it have any meaning? Love was filth for people like her.

"You know... I think I figured why you want to kill yourself so bad. We accept the love we think we deserve, you think you don't deserve any. You view yourself as a stranger, dazai."

She gently touched his hand, as a form of reassurance.

"Do you think I need someone telling me that?"

He stared down at her her hand as the corners of his lips curved upwards into a light smile. Something about the gesture was quite touching.

"But thank you, the way you spoke about love sounds beautiful. I haven't seen much love and attachment in this cruel world thus far. It is quite nice."

He remained silent for a moment, lost in thought.

"Hmm, am I a stranger to myself? I suppose you could be right. I never really thought about that."

A faint frown grew on his face as he looked up at tsuneko again.

"It looks as if you are."

She just commented with a soft sigh.

But she wasn't looking at him, it seemed that she was somewhere far away, truly deep into her memories. With the far off and grim look on her face, dazai could guess that they were far from good memories.

She intertwined their fingers and brought it to her lips, pecking his hand oh so gently.

He flinched from the sudden action and turned to look at tsuneko, his left eyebrow raised.

"Hmm?"

He looked down at their intertwined fingers as they were brought to her lips. A light blush spread across his cheeks and his dark brown eyes widened as he looked at her in surprise.

He didn't know what he was feeling in this moment—was it pleasure, discomfort, or maybe something else entirely? The words 'love' and 'attachment' still sounded new to him.

"Tsuneko-chan, what exactly was that just now?"

He chirped with a lighthearted tone, his face not at all in sync with what was going on in his head.

Was she flirting? Was it a form of comfort? Or was it something entirely different—a gesture of gratitude for giving her shelter here tonight?

He had no idea, but he certainly felt something.

"Old habits die hard."

She spoke, seemingly nonchalant as she let go of his hand.

"What I mean is... I owe you one, I'd have to repay you one way or another... However you'd want me to."

The girl was speaking with a lopsided grin, as if unbothered by all that happened.

Dazai's face was stained by a bright shade of red. He was stunned, completely speechless as he stared at her with his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

Did she actually just…

Did she really just offer to—

Oh.

That's exactly what she did.

He didn't know what to say. So much was happening all at once that his brain felt like it was moving in slow motion.

"Red suits you."

Tsuneko's lips absent-mindedly twitched into a pleased smile, as she said that. Her tone a bit teasing.

"I've never seen you flustered before..."

She mused, suppressing the urge to giggle.

This guy was a mystery to his core, unravelling him has to be like unravelling bandages... layer by layer. Dazai was willing to get to know her... It wasn't everyday that people wanted a whore's opinion on questions like whether or not life is worth living. He listened to what she had to say, and that was enough for her to consider his company a bliss.

Dazai's cheeks were on fire by this point. Everything she said was pushing his nerves to the very edge. She even said red suits him—his cheeks were burning up—and he didn't have any logical explanations for this whatsoever. Something about hearing these words come out of her mouth just threw him off.

"You certainly have a strange way of showing gratitude."

"Do I now?"

She said, cocking a brow in amusement.

"It's the only way I know."

The next words however, left her mouth quietly, with a sarcastic edge to them.

Umi curled up more comfortably on the bed they were sitting on, hugging her knees with a sigh.

"But all jokes aside, thank you for getting me out of the brothel without any pressure for doing... stuff, even for one night. I was really going crazy there, tomorrow when the owner wanted his money, I didn't have any chance to pay him back but now at least I can buy some time... I really owe you for tonight."

She said with a subtle smile.

"It seems that I really have a talent for getting myself into debt, hm?"

Dazai nodded at her and a faint smile spread across his face.

"You really do have a talent for that, tsuneko-chan."

He paused for a moment, his mind going over every word she said. Why did he offer to help in the first place? What was even going through his mind at this rate? As he thought, he shifted his focus of on her and raised a eyebrow.

"You're really that deep in debt, huh?"

"For... A lot of people the amount I owe the owner isn't considered much, but for me it's quite a lot of money."

She mumbled with a quiet voice, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She still remembered very well the last time she told the owner she didn't have the money, even the thought of it made her body hurt.

After a few minutes of silence, she broke it with a whisper of his name.

"Dazai..."

She looked at the ceiling with a blank expression on her face.

"Were you actually telling the truth when you said you worked in the port mafia for a living, as an executive? You weren't joking?"

He remained quite for a moment. His silence hung in the air as he stared down at the girl with an almost eerie seriousness. He wanted to say "yes" but his mouth wouldn't form the words. It was almost as if his throat was filled with concrete. His dark eyes darted away from her as his body language seemed much more timid than before. He looked away and finally muttered something.

"Yes..I was telling the truth."

Tsuneko let out a loud groan and rolled over in his bed. Her back facing him, she was internally cursing herself for... she couldn't even say for what, but her options were quite a lot.

"So that must real the real deal then?"

She said aimlessly, her hand pointed to the direction of the coat hanger, a silver pistol's handle sticking out of the pocket of his one of coats. It was one of his subordinates' that he'd Probably forgotten to return. Probably the reason she'd asked the question in the first place. She didn't look scared while pointing that out, her expression was solemn, her eyes clouded over with something unrecognizable.

There was a moment of intense silence in the air. Tsuneko was pointing her finger to and the outline of the gun in the pocket of his coat and he had already noticed her staring at it. He looked back down at his coat and then back up at her again. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice sounded strangely stern.

"Yes..It is the real deal."

The man in front of her probably was the thing he said he was, an executive of the port mafia. He could've easily be mistaken for some boy. Too young to be taken seriously. That sparked the same question again, why did he lived in a shipping container? If he was really an executive, he would've been filthy rich.

Of all the questions she could've asked, the most uselessly obvious one found its way to her lips.

"Have you ever... killed someone?"

The girl speaks with a slightly stretched out voice.

There was a slight hesitation, but he eventually answered.

"More times than I can count. The first time was when I was 14."

He answered simply, his face void of emotions despite what he was saying. His dark eyes showed nothing. He sat there as if he were narrating a story from a book instead of an admission of guilt. Yet his words held a certain weight to them. The weight of all his past deeds.

Tsuneko gulped.

She'd fucked up.

She'd fucked up so bad.

She'd trusted a guy who'd killed more people than he could count... but that was exactly it. She didn't regret her decision. A port mafia executive, an actual executive of the port mafia... If he really was from Port Mafia, she would have to be careful even about lifting or lowering a spoon in front of him. When it comes to the Port Mafia, the synonym of darkness and violence, there's no assurance that if she does something he doesn't like she wouldn't be murdered. That'd definitely hurt more than the owner's beating.

"Aren't you gonna sleep?"

Tsuneko asked dryly, the back of her head still facing dazai.

"No, not really. When I close my eyes and try to sleep, I always end up having the same nightmare."

He leaned back against the bed, putting his hands behind his head. His dark brown eyes fixed in on the ceiling for a few moments, before he looked at her.

Umi sat up on the bed and her eyes silently scanned his face, a curious expression shining on her features.

"A nightmare? Is it the same one every night?"

What it would take for a nightmare to keep a person like you awake at nights?

He remained silent for a moment. The dark brown of his single visible eye flashed with a slight spark of sympathy as he saw the sad expression on her face. She seemed so innocent yet she was stuck here. A life of pain and agony. He had to look away from her for a moment before finally speaking again.

"And... Yes, it's the same nightmare every time."

"What is that nightmare of yours that manages to keep you awake at nights?"

It was more or less a rhetorical question, she knew he wasn't going to answer him.

"The only thing I can imagine you fearing, is not being able to die."

She said that with a subtle smile.

"Maybe it's a warning of some sort."

A soft, bitter smile spread across his lips. But his eyes remained filled with sorrow and his words carried the faint feeling of shame.

"It is a warning of sorts. Not being able to die. But there is also another part of this nightmare that keeps me up at night."

His voice felt hoarse as the next words had a certain difficulty in coming out of his mouth. As he spoke, he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. He couldn't bring himself to even look at the girl sitting in front of him.

"You really think that I would just snap and kill you for a random ass reason..? Don't you think that's a bit of a stretch?"

"Common sense commands me to be scared of the person with a loaded gun."

She whispered softly under her breath.

"Ah, I see. I'd imagine you would've met quite a lot of shady characters, working in a brothel."

"Yeah, I know. I've met lots of port mafia members, they're far from friendly if they don't get what they want. Working in a place like I do, you will see this kind of people a lot. People who are used to getting their way, one way or another."

She says that with a distant gaze and he just nods his head.

"You're funny."

Tsuneko suddenly said with a calm smile.

:"That's the first thing that struck my thoughts when you first spoke about how excited you were to finally off yourself, explaining and comparing different methods of suicide like you were comparing different games you wanted to play. Any normal person fears death, but you seem to be driven towards it, hoping for a kind of excitement. Something to cure you boredom but man..."

She spoke with a mindless snicker, albeit a little bit bitter.

"But... I bet you know better... Bein' mafia and stuff... But death isn't anything exciting. No one around me has died with dignity, they've all died like street mice stuck in a glue trap. Died in fear, in pain, in filth, in blood. So to think that you want to die so bad, really annoys me. Because death isn't anything precious to begin with."

His eyebrows narrowed as he heard her words. Was she mocking him? Was she scolding him? His mouth contorted into a grimace at the way she talked about life and death as if it was something simple. His voice was barely a whisper as he whispered back to her.

"Then why haven't you died yet? If the world is so full of pain and suffering for you, why do you bother to breathe each day? Why did you crawl out of the drainage ditch instead of just lying there and dying?"

"The less you have to lose, the more you cling to life. Hoping for something that will never come..."

She says, her smile not faltering. But it was certainly bitter now. Her gaze was as sticky as mud.

"There's also something else..."

She leaned closer to whisper into his ear.

"I'm scared of the fact that when I die, there wouldn't be anyone there to bury my corpse, no one to mourn for me. Dying in a cold dark alley, left there to rot for god know how much time."

Her pale blue eyes rivalled his chocolate ones, in terms of how much they were depraved of light.

"Let me tell you something, my guy. Death wouldn't be anything out of your expectations, nothing beyond what you would expect will appear. Death isn't the sweet release, it's just another step in life that you have to take."

He finally turned his eyes back at her. They were darker and sadder than before, void of all light. His mouth was set into a soft frown. With a weak voice, full of resignation, and perhaps acceptance, he whispered at her, his tone strangely empty.

"Why... Why didn't you just let the owner kill you back there? If the world is so pointless, and people suffer so greatly... why do you cling so desperately to life? There's nothing here for you, especially not for someone like you. Just let go already."

"I... don't want to die like a sewer rat, dazai."

Tsuneko's words came out as a desperate plea for life.

Then it hit dazai, she wasn't like him.

"My mother wanted me to become someone who she could be proud of. A person of value. I'm not going to let her down, not when she sacrificed everything so I could live."

She had nothing to lose, it doesn't matter how many times life kicks her down, she'd still stand up.

Dazai could see the determination in her eyes, the intent to survive.

"As long your heart is beating, you shouldn't waste it, not a lot of people have that privilege. "

"...The human spirit. It never ceases to amaze me."

Dazai mumbled those words under a quiet breath. His words were full of both admiration as well as some contempt. Admiration for the sheer strength she had. Contempt for the fact that she was so naive at the same time.

"Your mother must be a good person if her last wish for you was for you to live a meaningful life."

A smile found it's way to her lips, a wide, beaming smile like a little girl who'd just been gifted a precious doll. her eyes crinkled with her smile.

:"I loved her so much... and I still do. I would give up on the world just to see her smile one more time."

She mumbled, looking at dazai with glimmering pupils, dilated with childlike joy. A total contrast from her eyes a few moments ago.

"Do you want to know what my mom did when I woke up crying because of a nightmare? How she lulled me back to sleep?"

She asked with a wide grin.

"What did she do?"

Dazai asked quietly, not missing the sudden, stark contrast in her expression. There was a certain warmth that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Almost as if she were a different person.

"Why don't I show you?"

She giggled, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Tsuneko brushed a hand through her hair, gesturing him to lay his head on her lap so she could stroke his hair. The smile lingered on her lips, it was enduring in a way.

There was a moment of doubt, a moment where he considered whether accepting her invitation or refusing it, before he finally did. He slowly placed his head on her lap, looking up at her with a somewhat puzzled expression.

Her hands began to stroke his hair as she mumbled some old melody under her breath. Her touch was soft and gentle and there was something comforting and nostalgic about it. As if he'd felt it before. But despite the comforting nature of her gesture, dazai's nose was still scrunched up uncomfortably.

"Is what I'm doing right now, perhaps... bothering you?"

She asked him with a sly grin.

"No."

Dazai replied in a soft, almost monotonous voice. But there was no mistaking that the touch of her hand was soothing to him. However, he wasn't going to tell her that. There was something a little bit embarrassing about it. Still, he decided not to move or resist against her. He just let his hair be stroked and his eyes be fixed on her.

She couldn't help the smile creeping up her face, as she saw his face. Dazai looked like an awe-struck boy.

"You like it, don't you?"

She teased him in a playful manner as she ran her fingers through his chocolate locks gently.

:"Your hair is so fluffy~"

She said in a baby voice, giggling as she messed his hair. Dazai was surprised at how much it came naturally to her, being this affectionate. Tsuneko has never had anyone to shower with her affection, now that he wasn't resisting it, she continued. Just like a little girl playing with a doll, showering it with with care and affection.

For an executive of the Port Mafia this was something beyond embarrassing for him. He was being treated like a little kid again. He thought of how this would look to people if they knew the fearsome Port Mafia executive that dazai was, was laying down in the lap of a prostitute with his eyes half-closed in pleasure. But the only thing he could really do was enjoy the moment as he lay there. It felt a little bit shameful, how much this affected him. He even felt his stomach flutter as her fingers ran through his hair and she spoke in that soft baby voice.

Dazai couldn't help but consider that she had an ulterior motive from all this, that she was putting up an act to deceive him. But the thing that scared him even further, was that he couldn't find any proof for his assumptions.

The smile on her face seemed so genuine, so sincere... like she was showing him a glimpse of her conscious, how it feels when she loves somebody.

While he was looking for a sign to tell that she was acting, he noticed her smile. Her smile was soft and gentle, full of fondness. As childish as it was, her smile was beautiful. It was so enduring the way her cheeks had a red hue to them, when she looked at him like that. It was a rare moment of vulnerability on both sides.

He kept staring at her. He let everything sink in. He took in all the beauty of her smile, of her blush, of her eyes. This simple, silly little gesture was causing him to feel so much. He couldn't get enough of her eyes. He could have stayed like this forever- just staring up at her, as she stared down at him. It was something unexpected, but also not unwelcome. He felt like, for the first time in such a long time, he wasn't a cold-hearted outsider. He was feeling human again.

Tsuneko leaned closer to his ear.

"I promise... Tonight, there wouldn't be any nightmares..."

She whispered, her voice filled with a sincere certainty, she knew that tonight he wouldn't be seeing any nightmares. Before muttering something else under her breath, which he couldn't quite grasp what it was, perhaps, 'good night'?

That was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep...