#I’m also trying to get back into writing fics for them and just my fandoms in general

[illustrate-her]

I’m so enjoying getting back into fanfic writing, and the BBC Musketeers fandom. I know it’s been - god, over ten years now - and it is largely a ghost town in that particular community, but I know there are a few of you out there. I’m determined to post more here, even if I’m only talking to myself, but if you want to chat Musketeers please say hi because I am ready and willing to fangirl with someone.

Anyway, I have a number of fics that have been stuck in the WIP folder for ages - as I said: over ten years now - that I’m picking up and dusting off and trying to familiarise myself enough with to actually finish. In many ways I think the last decade has given me a bit more to draw from when writing them, so maybe it was always meant to be this way? Like, I can do them the justice they need now?

Anyway anyway. I’m currently working on what looks like it will be the penultimate, or one-before-penultimate chapter of Chanson d’Automne, my WW2 French Resistance Musketeers AU. And I am LOVING being back in this world, let me tell you.

Here’s a little snippet of something from the latest chapter posted, which comes just a bit before things start going boom and people start getting whumped:

‘Aramis looks at the armband, smoothing his fingertips over the fabric. It’s been painted roughly in the tricolour stripes of blue white and red, with a black Cross of Lorraine drawn in the middle.

“Also…” Athos says carefully, and then sighs, “There is…some thinking, that if we are caught wearing the armband we will be treated gentler than if we are caught carrying out action behind enemy lines whilst not in uniform. But,” he brings up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “We all know that the Geneva Convention will likely not save us if we are caught.”

Athos looks at them all now, his eyes dark and very serious. “So don’t get caught.”

His voice breaks, just slightly. “For God’s sake - please - don’t get caught.”

“Ninon gave me these,” D’Artagnan says, drawing a small packet out of his breast pocket. “They’re…the British give them to their SOE agents, to take if they’re captured.”

They hold out their hands, solemn, and d’Artagnan puts one in each of their palms. They don’t speak. Aramis contemplates the little white pill. It seems so small and innocent, and he wonders that something that small could be so effective.

“Suicide is a sin,” he says, though he feels curiously blank at the thought.

“Not in these circumstances,” Athos says immediately, and there’s something fierce and hard, worn smooth like a stone under water in his voice.

Aramis just nods, and puts the little pill in his breast pocket. He tries not to look but can’t help himself, shooting a glance under his eyelashes as Porthos puts the pill into the folded cuff of his boilersuit and rolls it upwards, tucked right against the crook of his elbow.

It’s an oddly private moment, intimate, as they consider the way this might go. But all Aramis can think as he watches Porthos is a fierce and defiant no.’

[ghostlycod]

“I have this scene in my head for my fic that I really love but i don’t feel like writing all of the other stuff to get to it.”

I see this comment like 5 times a day in fic writing spaces lol

a scene that you don’t want to write is a scene you don’t want to read. don’t write stuff you don’t want to read.

me, personally: wait until the scenes that get you to that first initial scene you were excited about are just as interesting as that scene too. it won’t be the first, second, or third thing you think of. if u have a scene you really want to write, write that, and keep writing only those exciting scenes that come to you. eventually you have a million interesting scenes for your fic and they become puzzle pieces for you to arrange and then eventually the strings come together and you realize you really do have an interesting way to get to that original scene, and you’re just as excited to write it, if you haven’t already written it when you were brainstorming other scenes earlier in the writing process that you didn’t even realize could carry your story like that.

[kingdokyeom]

.

[gurugirl]

Hi ms guru, I just wanted to let some things off my chest and I can’t help but wonder why no one mentioned it before. Harry tumblr nowadays is sooo dry🫠 I miss how it used to be around a year ago or a bit before. So many amazing creators left like harrysonlylover :/ i wonder how she’s doing her stories always brought me joy and she had an amazing persona. It was so sad to see her get harassed followed by other creators starting drama against her and you. There are also creators that aren’t posting anymore like lukesaprince, freedomfireflies, and many more😔 I used to wait for updates and even though they were just for fun but they comforted me on days when I had no one. I’m so glad we still have you and jarofstyles ❤️ and i hope all the other creators are doing well we miss them a lot😭 it was such a golden and iconic era🔥

I know hon. Things do feel so different around here 😭 But there are some new writers and some who are still posting!

Here are some new writers who are active! @cloudyluun @maudie-duan @this-is-tiny-mia @ghstyles @alohajix @ijustmissyouraccenths @ellewritesx @pinkboaclub @merrybloomwrites

And here are some that have been around and are still posting! @heartateasee @musicforastylesrestaurant @harrysfolklore (writes for other fandoms too) @harrysbabycherry @1d1195 @watchmegetobsessed @missmielyhoran @harrywavycurly @0nlythrowharrybeaux @jarofstyles (as mentioned of course but ICON so needed to add here)

(Also y'all let me know if I missed anyone who's still actively posting or any newbies out there cause we should be supporting them all! This is just from the top of my head so I'm sure I missed a few)

Harrysonlylover is missed here. Not too long ago someone was looking for one her fics 😭 There really is something about those days when it seemed writers were happily supporting other writers instead of trying to make drama where there was none. I wish things could go back to how they were before ☹️

Anyway! I'll let harrysonlylover know you're thinking of her and that we miss her 💕

xoxo

[shanastoryteller]

this is NOT a request for u to hurry finishing up the new chapter for siat (bc people who do that are ungrateful brats) but a genuine question. Do you feel even less drawn to it right now (spn brain aside) because of what JKR has done to English politics and the lives of trans women? Because I think it would be completely understandable if you felt this was ur final straw to not finish it but I would also get the opposite of it being ‘now there’s even more reason to finish it’ I think both viewpoints are valid and have their reasonings and this is really truly not in any way meant to be a “why isn’t there a new chapter yet!!:(((“ ask I’m just curious what HP fanfic writers (especially someone as well known as you) make of this as I keep seeing posts going around of the “if u still read/write HP fanfic you’re a terf too” variety and I just…disagree with that but also see where they come from (aka helping the fandom stay relevant. But even if we all quit reading and writing fanfic, HP would still be popular and imo the dent fanfic makes isn’t that big in the fandom bc locals still love HP and most people who now read fanfic hate JKR and wouldn’t actually read her books/buy merch)

Regardless of what you decide, know your Audience is behind you,100%. Hell, you dragged most of us (me included) back into Supernatural. I’m excited for the new chapter of tgp!! 💖💖

Thank you for all your words, whatever fandom they may come in (I.e I found you years ago because of your teen wolf fic specifically embers embers but stayed through so many fandoms and even read some I know nothing about) you are a beacon of light in this world and I treasure each of your works truly and with all my heart

thank you, this is a really sweet and nice way of asking, i'm so glad you enjoy my writing <3

but honestly: nah lol

jkr is shit and so are all of her opinions. the influence she has on government sucks and i personally think it's best to avoid giving her money, but i'm not pocketwatching other people

siat, which is a very popular hp fic, is 8 years old and has 2.8 million hits

in 2023 alone, 9.6 million people visited universal studios hollywood, the home of the wizarding world of harry potter

people should engage with media in whatever manner they feel most comfortable and sparks the most joy. but the idea that fanfic is a significant contributor to the cultural zeitgeist is just stupid

siat's on the to do list, i've just been infected with spn brainworms and wbt is also on the list but i feel more compelled to work on that one than siat just because huge chunks of it are already written so it seems a little silly to drag my feet as much as i have, plus at the time it had been a year since i posted the first chapter and i was like. ok come on let's go this is getting ridiculous

it's a goal to get back into a regular update cadence with siat. i'm not tired of it, i don't hate it, i still have an outline and know we're i'm going

it's partially that we're in sort of a tricky part to write, since it's about when a bunch of threads are about to come together and i don't want to fuck it up, and also that demands for updates honest to god really do kill my motivation to work on it. it's not punishment, i'm not trying to be a bitch, but i love the story and want to love sharing it with you, but being treated like a dispenser of fic, or like i owe people something and i'm somehow being selfish or inconsiderate by having fun writing what i want to write, really honestly just kills that. i don't want to write with that in the back of my head

people ask me about siat updates a lot. i don't post anything close to all of them. and if it was just "love the story can't wait to see what happens next!" that wouldn't be a problem, that's nice, i like that people are engaged and interested in what's to come

but a litany of "when will this update?" "is this abandoned?" "what about siat :(" "i don't care about x, why aren't you working on siat?" "you haven't updated siat in a while..." "why haven't you updated siat?" just makes me feel kinda bitter. which isn't a place i want to write from

it will be updated. i probably won't write the next chapter straight through and will alternate with tgp or wbt or whatever, but it's honestly just a mix of brainworms and having a lot of fun with these blorbos and wanting to have be in the right mindset while i write

[vinelark]

Hello! Was going through your fic rec tag and saw someone asked for your favorite pangy Jason fics, and was wondering if I could request the same but with Tim instead?

okay, you’ve asked the golden question for me, because tim pangs are my favorite pangs—and this fandom has such an abundance of them. i had to narrow this list down so much, and tried to focus on fics where the pangs feel like a core part of the story for me. i came up with a mix of go-to recs that have definitely appeared on this blog before and some stories i don’t think i’ve mentioned yet. so here we go, serving up some tim pangs:

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by @bonesbuckleup

tim joins the batfamily early, and in one of the pangiest ways possible. featuring an actual uncle and tim being so very isolated and alone (until he isn’t!)—excellent recipe for great and sustained pangs. i rec this one often and for good reason: i love the characterization of this pre-robin tim (smart! competent! lonely! believably a kid!), the writing is fantastic, and it still hits on each reread.

A Meditation on Railroading by @eggmacguffin

another one of my favorite rereads—this is all about robin-era tim being hurt in his home/civilian life and trying to deal with that on his own, because he’s drawn a clear line between “robin” and “tim.” this is pangs galore—from tim’s positioning of himself in relation to the bats (especially bruce and dick), to the large and small ways he is hurt + how he deals with that hurt, and, especially, the way we get to see jason observe & recharacterize tim based on what happens in this story.

Surveillance series by @smilebackwards

this series has these very specific “tim comes into the picture late” flavor of pangs that i am (more than) a bit obsessed with—it does such a compelling job navigating what this version of tim would think and do and feel as he forges relationships with the bats/assorted heroes a few years later than in canon. and some of those feelings (especially in the first and last installments) are beautifully pangy; here we have tim dealing with a lot on his own without ever expecting outside help, and even later when be finds himself with a support network, this still teases out the great, subtle pangs of tim having to learn how to navigate that.

equivalent exchange by scribblemetimbers

holy tim pangs, batman! this really hits the sweet spot—a tim who is competent and cunning and stubborn as hell AND is lonely with terrible self-worth unintentionally reinforced by bruce, all of which collide in a self-sacrificial gambit that sets its long plot in motion. (this fic is complete, but is part one of a series.) this does one of the top-tier, prime pang setups: in which one character unintentionally reinforces another character’s deepest insecurities (with devastating consequences).

between hands that relaxed by @deitybird

one of my new fav reverse robins fics (that recently completed!), in which tim, the second of batman’s partners, was killed by the joker—and that’s just where the horrors begin for him. lots of pangs re: tim’s sense of identity/worth, his aching loneliness as he slowly finds his way back to the family, and especially notable angst re: his relationship with an older damian. (before he died it was: bad. this story takes a very hopeful approach to their future.) i also adore the timkon & core four threads here. as a bonus, the first fic in the series is damian pov and, imo, extremely worth reading both fics for maximum pangs.

Hear it in your tone (you’re slowly letting go) by sexyPineappleMan (wip)

a take on “bruce is tim’s biological father” that is so far doing everything i would want with this premise, and delivers a buffet of pangs from chapter one. tim is brilliant, lonely, and hurting in this joins-the-family-late au—that also sees him as a (former) olympic hopeful gymnast, a non-robin tim identity i love—and i’m equally compelled by the angst/looming reveals, and by the intrigue of the plot itself. i’ve been well fed so far and am eagerly awaiting more.

Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines by @sunflowersandink

in which robin!tim is dealt a very specific kind of difficult hand and (you may be sensing a pattern here) tries to deal with it entirely on his own. the way there’s so much tension and angst hanging over a scene about eating pancakes speaks to the kind of story this is: one where every single detail is used for maximum potential. i return to this one for its prime tim pangs, and i still forget, every time, just how well executed they are and how the plot builds to a top-notch reveal and resolution. (heads up for food insecurity/disordered eating in this one, do mind the notes!)

some of us have childhoods that aren't poems on sight (but darling, you're doing alright) by mrs_d

specifically chapter 21, which has a fully executed pang arc that almost lets it read like a standalone story. don’t get me wrong, there are pangs threaded throughout—tim in this story is very lonely and primed to expect lack of care—but the misunderstanding between alfred and tim in the second half of this chapter is really notable. it’s simple and technically low-stakes compared to what else is happening in the plot, but the stakes feel high to us (and to the characters).

How to Proceed by @philosophersandfools

another reverse robins fic, this one a oneshot that pulls off its premise both efficiently and potently. here we see a teenage eldest brother damian, who has softened a bit (especially since a very young jason and dick have already been brought into the fold) but still distrusts and dislikes his father’s new mentee, 14 y/o tim. that distrust stems from damian’s misunderstanding of tim’s intentions/situation and leads to some excellent pangs before a decisive resolution.

this is nowhere near an exhaustive list and i reserve the right to update with additions later 💪

[angelbarelywritesslashers]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

[mushyblushyredhead]

I find it crazy how we have a sfw tkl community who loves the sonic fandom and write cute fics. But we don’t have none of shadow and Maria😭😭😭 can you do Lee shadow ler Maria or  perhaps the other way around, or switch for both

It does feel criminal that we lack in the Shadow & Maria fluff department. Additionally, I haven’t been feeling 100% these past 2 months (apologies for the boop booth delay, but I don’t want to force myself to draw when my spirits are down)

So, enjoy this self-indulgent comfort fluff fic! ❤️‍🩹

Nightly Talks — Sonic Movieverse

Summary: When Shadow begins to doubt his existence once again, Maria jumps in to help him feel better and makes a very shocking and cute discovery about the ultimate lifeform.

Word count: 6k

Switch!Shadow 🦔🖤❤️

Switch!Maria 🛼🩵

Warning: Light spoilers for Sonic 3 (read with caution), some angst, but lots of fluff! May be too sweet and cause cavities. This is a tickle fic. If you don’t like, don’t read!

Also available to read on Ao3! (I caved in, plz don’t let this flop TwT)

Maria hummed to herself as she cruised through the empty halls on her roller skates.

It was testing day once again for her alien hedgehog friend, Shadow. Even though she didn’t like the tests Shadow was forced to do, there was nothing really she could do about it. She had gotten Shadow out of testing one time when she snuck into the lab, and convinced Shadow to slip out behind the scientists’ backs, placing her teddy bear in his place.

Unfortunately, ever since that day, her grandfather and the other scientists forbade her from sneaking down into the lab and seeing Shadow during experiments. So now, she couldn’t help him sneak out anymore. Instead, she had to stay outside and wait for the tests to be over in order to see her friend.

Waiting always was a drag and felt like forever. Maria tried busying herself to make the time pass faster: playing her guitar, making elaborate snacks from the cafeteria food carts, coloring, or roller skating.

Even though she was told by Commander Walters in the beginning to lose the skates while staying at the facility, that didn’t stop her in the moment. She was bored waiting for her friend, what else was she supposed to do? Besides, she knew the facility inside and out by now to know the best places to skate without getting caught.

Maria skidded to a stop around a corner as she heard voices and footsteps approaching. She quickly pulled off her roller skates and hid them behind her bear and other plushies she brought along.

Her face brightened when she saw Shadow, who was being escorted by two other scientists and her grandfather. “Shadow!” she beamed, leaning down to his level and giving him a hug. Shadow smiled, returning the gesture.

“Maria, there you are,” she heard her grandfather say.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

“Just playing,” Maria answered, gesturing to the pile of plush toys on the floor. “Can Shadow play now?”

“Of course he can,” replied Gerald. “Since he did such an excellent job with today’s experiments.” He patted Shadow’s head, who frowned slightly at that.

“Now then, I’ve got to get back to my work.” Gerald turned his attention to the scientists. “Escort them back to Maria’s room, please.” The scientists nodded.

Now back in the comfort of Maria’s blanket fort, she was happy to see her hedgehog bestie again. Except he didn’t reciprocate the feeling back.

Maria’s smile faltered as she noticed her friend biting back a wince. “Shadow, is something wrong? What happened?”

Shadow forced his expression to be neutral. “Nothing…I’m fine.”

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything.” There was no point in trying to hide anything from Maria; she could always tell when he was lying. That was one of the many traits he secretly admired about her.

The black hedgehog sighed. “It was…” He glanced back at the door, as if he was afraid one of the scientists was going to hear. “They wanted to see how far the limits of my chaos energy could reach. So the scientists had me do countless laps nonstop while they monitored me. And if I started to slow down even just a little…” He sighed again, lowering his head. “They’d make me start all over again.”

Maria felt her heart sink. She always hated how the other scientists treated Shadow as nothing more than a guinea pig. At least her grandfather never gave Shadow that same treatment. He, unlike everyone else at the facility, actually saw Shadow as a person and her friend.

“Oh, Shadow, I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” mumbled Shadow, shifting away from Maria’s hand that was trying to rest on his. He heard her let out a little sigh, and was quickly filled with guilt. He didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. He did want comfort, but his frustration got in the way and made him express it wrongly. “Maria, I’m…I-I’m sorry.” He lowered his ears, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his arms.

Maria felt like she could tear up at the sight. “Awh, Shadow…” She hovered her hand over his head. “Is it alright if I pet your head?” She heard a soft ‘mhm’ in response so she gingerly began petting his head. She felt Shadow melt at the touch, especially when she softly traced his quills or gently scratched at the soft fur behind his ears.

When he finally uncurled from his moping position, Maria suddenly yanked him into a tight hug while ruffling his head. “Aaah! Hey! What are you doing?!” He didn’t get an answer, but was instead scooped up and twirled around. “Maria! What…are…you…doing?!”

Maria finally put him down, beaming a smile. “Curing you of your sadness! My grandfather always says the best cure for sadness is confusion; if you can distract the other person with something else, they’ll forget why they were sad in the first place. Did it work?”

Shadow couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Yeah, a little,” he said, trying to fix his messed up fur.

Aww only a little?” Maria pouted. She had to up her game! She hummed in thought before her face brightened. “Ooh, wait! I’ve got an idea!” She stood up, motioning for Shadow to follow.

When they were in the hallway, she led them to the lift where she pulled out a keycard from her pocket that granted them access to the roof. Now Shadow understood what she was up to. She was taking them to the flower fields where she first took them after he had gotten self-conscious from a certain scene in the movie they watched.

Tranquil silence fell between them as the two laid side by side in the soft grass. It was another clear night, and the inky black sky was illuminated by thousands of twinkling stars. Even the Milky Way was fully visible.

The two sat in silence until Maria spoke. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Shadow hummed in agreement. “I’m sorry you had to deal with what happened earlier. They shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

“Don’t feel sorry, Maria. It was my own fault for not being able to exceed their expectations.”

“Shadow, that’s not true. They were pressuring you, and setting very high standards for no reason.”

“It was still my fault. If I can’t be strong like they expect me to be, then what’s the point?”

“Shadow…” Maria gently took his gloved hand in hers. “You already are the strongest person I’ve ever known, and that’s not because of your powers. It’s because despite everything, you still choose to have a good heart. You’re so much stronger than you know, Shadow.”

The black hedgehog was touched by her words, but there still was a seed of doubt lingering inside. “I don’t feel so strong all the time,” he quietly admitted.

“Well you are,” Maria insisted. She gave a comforting squeeze to his hand which Shadow reciprocated. “You are to me.”

“Do you…really think so?”

“I know so. You’ve got a good heart, Shadow. Never lose sight of that. And never forget that you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Shadow’s expression faltered. “But what if they’re right? What if I am just nothing more than an unpredictable monster? And I’m just fooling myself thinking I can be anything more than that?”

Maria sat up, gently squeezing both of his hands. “Hey, don’t ever think that, Shadow. No matter what anyone says or thinks, you’ll always be my friend. Remember what I said to you before? You can do or be anything you want to.” She gently tapped his chest. “As long as you follow your heart.”

“Besides,” she added after a moment of silence. “How can a so-called ‘monster’ be a monster if he’s this adorable?” She suddenly cupped Shadow’s face, squishing his cheeks before peppering his face with tiny kisses.

Shadow tried to act annoyed by the sudden affection, but slowly broke into a smile after a few seconds. Soft, breathy chuckles spilled from his lips as Maria yanked him into another crushing bear hug while still smothering his head with kisses.

“Okahahay! Okahay, I gehehet ihihit! Aaah! You’re squeezing too tihihihight!” Now the smothering was getting to him.

Maria giggled, releasing him. “Feel better now?”

Shadow fondly rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you for that, Maria. I really mean it.” He suddenly bit back a wince, touching his side.

“What’s wrong?”

“The endless laps I had to do earlier,” Shadow explained as he carefully tried to massage the knot away. “They wouldn’t give me a break as I kept straining myself to push faster, and—well…I guess I strained myself a bit too much.”

“Oh, Shadow…” Maria reached her hand out.

“I’ll be fine,” the hedgehog assured. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt with worse. This is nothing.”

Maria nodded, but she wasn’t so convinced. She knew how stubborn Shadow could be whenever it came to something like bruises or sore limbs. He was always so opposed to accepting any sort of help, sometimes even from her. She figured Shadow tried putting up a tough act all the time in front of her so she wouldn’t worry about him.

She suddenly got a deviously playful idea as she saw Shadow subtly try to rub his soreness away. She wasn’t sure if this would even work on him, or if he would even allow her to do such a thing, but it was worth a shot. Shadow always made exceptions for Maria whenever she wanted him to do something with her so surely he would make the exception for this.

Plus, he really looked like he could use some extra convincing after filling himself with so much doubt. Would this work on him? Only one way to find out.

Maria let out a fake gasp. “Wait, Shadow, you said you were still feeling sore from earlier?”

“Yes? But I already said I’ll be fine.”

Maria put on her best worrisome act. “We should do a checkup to see if anywhere else might be hurting.”

At the mention of ‘checkup’, Shadow scooted away, wrapping his arms around his torso. Maria immediately regretted her choice of words. “It’s okay, Shadow. I meant: why don’t you let me check you up to see if there’s anything wrong? There might be something serious you don’t even know about!” She tried to keep a straight face, not wanting a smile to give away what she was really planning.

Shadow seemed hesitant at first, but agreed in the end. As much as he wanted to convince his friend and himself that a little sore muscle in his side was nothing to fret, he knew Maria wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Even if he hated checkups in general thanks to the GUN scientists, he knew Maria would never do anything to hurt him. He trusted her more than anyone.

He sighed. “All right, fine.”

“Perfect,” Maria beamed, now letting her smile show. She motioned for him to come closer. “Now then, I’ll examine you from head to toe and my assistant here,” she gestured to her teddy bear sitting next to her that she brought along. “will write down anything unusual so I can right away help you. Okay?”

“All right,” nodded Shadow, playing along.

“Good. And I promise, I’ll be gentle.” Shadow nodded again. “Okay, now hold still…” Maria gently rubbed his head. “Any headaches or soreness?”

“No.”

“Alright.” She moved to his ears, gingerly rubbing them before giving them a playful flick to make them twitch. “Ear reflexes look normal. So far so good.” She tested his eyes, making him follow her index finger waving in his face. She checked his limbs, gently bending his arms and legs at the joint back and forth. She checked his reflexes, tapping his knee with her finger and Shadow humored her by kicking his leg out.

“Woah! Reflexes are more than okay,” she stated with a laugh. “Okay, last part. I gotta check and see if anything else hurts.” Maria reached for his torso. As soon as she squeezed both of his sides, Shadow’s breath suddenly hitched. He curled reflexively, but not from the soreness. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even feel the sore knot in his side anymore. It was something else entirely—something odd. A strange feeling he had never felt before.

Maria noticed this, and at first thought she accidentally hurt him. But after another careful experimental squeeze, she saw the corner of Shadow’s mouth curl as he choked on another grunt. It took every single ounce of willpower to not burst out in an excited squeal. Aaaah! No way! No way!! It works! He’s ticklish!! He’s actually ticklish!

“Shadow? Are you okay?” Maria asked innocently. “Does something hurt here?”

“N-No, I’m fine,” Shadow answered as nonchalantly as possible.

“Hmm, are you sure? You’re all curled up. Here, lemme see…” She squeezed his sides again, this time not letting up.

Shadow emitted a startled sound, choking on air again. Why did these squeezes to his sides make him want to reflexively curl into a ball and…laugh?! What was Maria doing to him?

“W-Wait! Maria..! AAAH!” Shadow’s voice cracked as he let out a high-pitched yelp—which he would forever deny until the end of time. He felt Maria’s small fingers start to poke and tase his sides. Why did he get the feeling that she was doing this on purpose now? “Mari—AH! No waHAhait! Wait!! AAAH!”

“Shadow, will you please uncurl so I can see if something’s wrong?” Maria tried to sound stern, but her smile said otherwise.

“I cAN’t if you keep poking me like thAT! What are you doing?!”

“I’m just trying to make sure my best friend isn’t trying to hide some kind of injury from me. But by the way you’re acting, something tells me you are hiding an injury!”

“I am not!”

“Then let me see!”

Shadow slowly uncurled, and yelped as Maria went for his sides again. “QuIHIHIT it!! You’re doIHINg thihihis on pUrpOHose!”

Maria slowly gasped, pretending to be shocked. “Why Shadow, you wouldn’t happen to be…ticklish, would you?”

“N-No! I—I don’t even know what that means!”

“Well,” Maria began to explain, pulling her hands away. “tickling is when a certain spot on your body is touched in a way that makes you laugh.”

Shadow blinked. He had never felt more confused. Maria giggled at his dumbfounded expression. “What I was just doing to you seconds ago. That’s tickling.”

The black hedgehog glanced down at his side where Maria’s fingers had been mere moments ago. Curious, he squeezed his own side and frowned as nothing happened. Maria giggled at her friend’s innocent attempt. “You can’t tickle yourself, silly. It only works if someone else does it to you.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. How is this even possible?”

Maria shrugged. “I don’t know. And nobody has ever really figured out why. All we know is that it’s a silly way to play around and make you laugh.” She suddenly smirked. “And it looks like it works on you too!”

“What?”

“You! You’re ticklish, Shadow! Ohh, this changes everything!”

Shadow felt his cheeks grow warm, but he didn’t know why. “No, I’m not!”

“Are too!”

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too~!” Maria sang, booping the flustered hedgehog on the nose.

Shadow huffed, lowering his ears. “No. I’m. Not!!”

Maria was unfazed by his outburst. “Alright then, Mr. Ultimate Lifeform. You wanna keep denying the obvious? I’ll prove it to you! Lift up your arms.”

Shadow didn’t like where this was going. He hugged himself tightly. “No way!”

“What, are you scaaaared~?”

“I’m not scared of anything!”

“Then lift your arms up.” Shadow reluctantly obeyed, slowly raising his arms above his head. “Now, keep your arms up no matter what.” Shadow’s eyes widened as Maria’s fingers slowly moved closer. He felt something bubbling in his chest: fear but also…excitement?! He brushed it off as just adrenaline. After all, having his arms raised like this left vital spots vulnerable. So yes, it was just adrenaline and nothing more.

Maria wasn’t making this any easier as she slowly, painfully inched her wiggling fingers closer, smirking like a pint-sized villain. And for some reason, the anticipation was maddening! Shadow had never felt this much panicky anticipation. Not even the times where he anticipated grueling tests and experiments the night before.

This was nothing like that. As much as his body panicked, his mind told him nothing serious was going to hurt him. He could feel the corners of his mouth trying to tug upwards. A strange feeling was bubbling and growing in his chest: the urge to laugh.

Finally, Maria’s fingers touched down. She placed her fingertips on his forearms, before softly and slowly tracing down his arms. The closer her fingers got to his exposed underarms, the stronger the urge to laugh became.

Shadow bit his lip, refusing to let any emotion show. His arms trembled as he struggled to keep them up. His instincts were shouting for him to yank his arms down. He couldn’t take the anticipation anymore!

He let out a muffled yelp as Maria rested her fingertips against his underarms. Shadow couldn’t fight his instincts anymore.

“Shadow, keep your arms up!” Maria playfully scolded. When Shadow couldn’t lift his arms back up more than an inch, Maria went ahead and pushed his arms up all the way. Without wasting another second, her fingers plunged down to wiggle and scratch rapidly against the exposed underarms.

Shadow, unable to keep it together, let the dam break as loud laughs poured out of him. “AAAH! MarIAHAHAHA! NOHOHO!” Reflexively, he slammed his arms down to his sides, only to trap Maria’s still wiggling fingers. “NO! NOHOHOHO!! DOHOHOHON’T!!”

“Don’t what?”

“S-STOHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Stop what?”

“AAAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHO!!”

Maria couldn’t help but laugh alongside her friend’s screechy reactions. “You keep saying ‘no’ Shadow, but you’re not telling me what specifically!”

For some reason, the teasing tone in Maria’s voice made Shadow’s cheeks flush even more. His stomach was bubbling with a maddening fluttery sensation that felt like he swallowed a swarm of live butterflies. How was that even possible?!

Quickly losing balance, Shadow flopped onto his back against the grass. “Ooh, making things easier for me by lying down?” he heard Maria say. “I mean, you already lost trying to keep your arms up. But if you wanted me to keep tickling you, Shadow, you could’ve just told me!”

“WhAHAHAT?! NoHAHAHAO!!”

Shadow kicked and rapidly squirmed against the grass. His arms were glued to his sides, and Maria’s fingers somehow were still able to move. As if that wasn’t bad enough, now that he was laying down, Maria suddenly switched tactics. Now, she moved her hands to his ribs, where her devious fingers poked and kneaded at his ribcage.

“WaHAHAHAIT MAHAHARIA!!”

Ignoring his protest, Maria got another wicked idea. She halted her playful assault for a moment. “Hey, Shadow? How many ribs do you have?”

“W-Whahat..?” The hedgehog gasped out, sitting up.

“Does being the ultimate lifeform make you have an extra or less set of ribs?”

“I…I have the same as you. Twenty-four; twelve on each side.”

“Hmm…I better check to make sure.”

“What?!”

Maria faked concern again. “I gotta make sure you’re not missing any! What if one of them came loose from all those laps you did earlier?”

“N-Nothihing came loose!” Shadow answered with a wobbly smile. He was trying so hard not to laugh, to no avail. Even worse, he couldn’t even activate his chaos energy to get out of this flustering situation. In any other scenario, he could have easily teleported out of there, but he needed to concentrate in order to activate his power. And right now, his brain couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the anticipation and tickly sensations.

“Mariahaha, nohohoho!” Shadow couldn’t hold back the anticipatory giggles as Maria slowly inched her wiggling fingers closer to his torso.

Flopping on his back again, Shadow tried to roll away from his villainous friend. Maria quickly reached out, swiftly yanking him back by his sides into her lap.

Now feeling more vulnerable than ever, Shadow frantically tried to squirm free. No luck—why was his super strength sucked out of him when he really needed it the most?!

“Shadow…the more you try to get away, the longer I’m going to tickle youuu~!”

Shadow batted her hands like an angry kitten. “Stohohop tahahalking to me like thahahahat!”

“Like whaaaaat~?”

“Juhust stohoh—AAAH!”

Shadow yelped as his left wrist was yanked upwards. Before he could protest, he shrieked as Maria began kneading his lowest rib.

“Okay, oneee…”

“NAHAHAHAHAO!!”

“Twoooo…”

“STA—STAHAHAHAAAAP!!”

“Threeee…Shadow, hold still! You’re going to make me lose count!”

Maria was having a ball teasing her friend this way. Who knew the ultimate lifeform was so ticklish and susceptible to baby talk?

And Shadow? His ears were pressed flat at how embarrassed the tickles were making him, especially the silly feeling of being cradled in someone’s lap. Even his tail was betraying him; he could feel it wagging behind his back. He just hoped Maria didn’t notice.

She did. But she didn’t say anything as she knew her friend would feel embarrassed if she pointed it out. So she just continued kneading at Shadow’s ribs, slowly moving to the next one and enjoying hearing the stoic hedgehog squeal uncharacteristically.

The higher she got, the louder and more frantic Shadow’s laughter became. When she managed to get to his sixth rib, she paused. “Hmm…aw man, I lost count. Guess we’ll have to start over.”

Shadow’s eyes widened. “What?! N-No you don’t! You were at six!!”

“Was I? I don’t know, it’s just so hard to remember with you squirming around and trying to push my hands away. Oh well~!”

“Mariaha, I swear…if you try ihit again, I’ll—NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!

Maria cut him by digging all her fingers against Shadow’s ribcage, vibrating rapidly. “Sorry, whaddya say?”

“MAHARIAAAAHAHAHAHA!!”

“I’m right here, Shadow. No need to yell.”

Ohh the teasing. Somehow, it made everything so much worse. As much as Shadow was losing it, he also didn’t want to accidentally hurt his friend with all his squirming and kicking.

Maria, of course, took advantage of him not fighting back. She moved her hands around, tickling every spot she could possibly reach.

When her fingers scribbled down to his belly, Shadow arched his back with a loud squeal. He managed to roll out of Maria’s lap, and immediately covered his mouth with his gloved hands. He couldn’t believe he was capable of making a sound so high-pitched like that. So embarrassing!

“Oh my—hahaha! Shadow!” Maria doubled over in giggles. “That was soooo cute! I didn’t know you could squeal like that! I guess I found a really good tickle spot! No, wait—the Ultimate Tickle Spot!”

Shadow could feel his entire face burn crimson by that statement. His ears pressed flat as he huffed, pretending to act all nonchalant. “N-No that’s—that’s not—whatever! That’s ridiculous to say! And not true!”

“Uh-huuuhhh…Don’t worry, Shadow. I won’t tell anyone. My lips are sealed!”

“There’s nothing to tell anyone!” Shadow objected.

“What, that you screech so adorably loud when I tickle you riiiiight…here?” Maria quickly reached out to scratch at his furry tummy again. Shadow flinched away with another loud squeal, falling on his back again. “Awww!! See? I wonder if any of the other scientists have found out about this? Oooh, what if they do?! Then you’d be in reeeal trouble, Shadow!”

Even though he knew Maria was just teasing, the thought of having this embarrassing secret be discovered by the GUN scientists made Shadow genuinely panic. What if she was right? Nobody would ever let him live it down or take him seriously for the rest of his life. And the Professor…what would he even do if he found out the ultimate lifeform was secretly ticklish? He’d rather get disintegrated by his own chaos energy than letting that happen.

He snapped out of his thoughts with a little gasp as Maria pulled him back into her lap again. Now cradled and facing her again, Shadow frowned. “You better not mention this to anyone.”

Maria smiled. “Don’t worry, your cute secret’s safe with me.” She playfully booped Shadow’s tummy, who squeaked at that before trying to cover it up with a cough.

“I mean it, Maria!” The black hedgehog’s ears lowered. “If anyone finds out about this offensive tactic because of you, I’ll…I’ll steal your roller skates! And never give them back.”

Maria let out a long dramatic gasp, half-pretending to be greatly appalled by that threat. “Threatening the second thing I love most? First one being you, of course.” She lowered her tone to sound icy. “But my roller skates? Stealing my skates..?”

Shadow was worried for a split second if he had accidentally made Maria legitimately angry. Now he really regretted his choice of words. He could feel a cold chill run down his spine at his friend—his normally sweet and bubbly—friend’s tone, and the way she tightened her grip.

What he didn’t expect was to burst into hysterics as Maria ruthlessly tickled him. She furiously dug one hand into his belly while the other was shoved under his arm. And this time, she wasn’t playing nice anymore. No matter which way he squirmed, her fingers kept tickling and he couldn’t break free.

“NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!! MARIAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! WAHAHAIT, PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! I-I’M SO-HAHAHAHAAAA!! I’M SORRY!!”

“I’m sorry, too, Shadow,” Maria said with faux sympathy. “I’m sorry that I do not accept your apology!”

“WHAHAHAHAT?! YOU—YOU CAHAHAN’T DO THA—HAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!” Maria cut him off by using both hands to furiously tickle his belly. “NOHAAAAEEEEEEEHEHEHAAAAAA!! NAHAHAHO, PLEAHEEHEEHEEEEEASE!! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!! IHIHI’M REAHEEHEEHEALLY SOHOHORRY!! AAAAHAHAHA!! I DIHIHIHIDN’T MEAN IHIHIHIT!!

Shadow frantically batted at Maria’s scribbling hands, trying to push them anywhere else but his stomach. But that proved to be a mistake, as Maria switched from tickling his belly to his underarms, down to his ribs, then back to his belly, over and over so he couldn’t get used to the tickly feeling.

Eight seconds later, Shadow was starting to lose it. Maria was wielding a very evil duo attack: she had one hand softly fluttering behind his back (he had no idea he was even ticklish there, either. How many tickle spots did he have?!) while the other scribbled the center of his tummy. Having two spots targeted simultaneously made his body confused; he didn’t know if he should arch away or curl inward.

Even though Maria had softened up her touch, that wasn’t the bad part. It was the awful teasing words she was cooing in his ear that made him want to combust. “Tickle tickle, Shadow~! Who’s a ticklish wittle baby hedgehog? It’s youuu~! Aww, you’re trying so hard to get away, but you can’t! Aww, does that fluster you? Me saying the word ‘tickle’? How about…tickletickletickletickle!! Tickle tickle tickle! Tiiiickle tickle tickleeee~!”

Shadow felt like he was going to burst into flames. That evil baby talk was going to be the death of him! Tickly shocks plagued his entire body.

“M-MARIAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! C’MOHAHAHAHAHON, PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! AHAHAHAHAHA!! I’M REAHEEHEEALLY SORRY!! IHIHIHI’LL DO ANYTHIHIHIHIHING, JUHUHUST STAAAAHAHAHAHAHAP!! NOHO MOHOHOHORE!!”

Maria finally showed mercy and ceased her tickling. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. You apologize for doubting yourself and for threatening to steal my skates, and then you promise you’ll never doubt yourself ever again because you’re Shadow the Hedgehog. And Shadow the Hedgehog is amazing and awesome at everything he does.”

Shadow weakly nodded with a soft eye roll. “Fihihine…” Just as he was about to open his mouth to say the required words, his eyes widened at Maria hovering her wiggling fingers over him like tickling crane claws. “Mariahaha, nohohoho! I cahahahan’t say ihihit if you’re doing thahahahat!”

“This is to make sure you’re serious about your promise and the things you say,” she smirked. “Go on and say it. If you don’t, I’ll have to tickle you again~!”

Shadow curled in the fetal position. “NOHOHO! You better nohohohot!”

“Then say it!”

“Okay, okahahay!” Shadow tried to get the words out, but Maria’s teasing fingers weren’t helping. They kept inching closer, slowly wiggling towards his stomach or making pinching motions towards his ribs, before pulling away at the last second.

And poor Shadow was consumed with anticipatory giggles that wouldn’t let him get a single word out. “Maria, that’s cheaheeheeheating! You cahahan’t do thahat!”

“Shadow, you have thirty seconds before I tickle you to death.”

“NO! Okay, fihihine!” Shadow breathed a giggly sigh. He tried to fix his gaze on Maria’s eyes instead of her teasing fingers. “Maria, I’m sohohorry for doubting myself…and threatening to steal your skates. I promihihise I won’t ever doubt myself again. There, I said it.”

“And?” she pressed. When Shadow didn’t want to say, she gave him a few quick side tases.

“AAAH! OkAHAhahay! And! Because…” He sighed. “I’m Shadow the Hedgehog, and Shadow the Hedgehog is amazing and awesome at everything he does.”

Maria smiled in satisfaction. She pulled her claw hands away, and gave Shadow gentle rubs to the head. “I accept your apology. And your promise.” She gave him a hug. “Now was that so hard to do?”

Shadow scoffed. “Very.”

“But don’t you feel better?”

“…Yeah. Thank you, Maria…really. You always know how to help me feel better. I really don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you again for everything.”

The two embraced in a warm hug. When they finally broke, Shadow gave her a stern look. “Don’t think I won’t try and get revenge for your little stunt you pulled today.”

Maria laughed, not taking the hint. “Oh, Shadow. No you wouldn’t. You love me too much as a friend. C’mon, let’s head back.” She suddenly yawned. “I’m getting tired.”

Shadow nodded, softening his expression. “Of course. Here,” he took her hand. “No need to walk all the way back.” He activated his chaos energy, and teleported them back to Maria's room. She invited Shadow to stay and sleep together in the blanket fort, which he happily accepted.

Once they were nestled under the blankets, Shadow decided to enact his revenge. No way was he going to let her get away with tickling the ultimate lifeform. Very carefully, he slid his hand under the blanket. When his fingers found Maria’s side, he started gently squeezing.

Maria squeaked and burst into giggles. “Shahahahadow! EEEEheeheeheehee!”

Now it was Shadow’s turn to smirk. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to get back at you after what you did to me?”

“I don’t knohohow! Mahahaybe? EEEEEHEEEK!! Shahahadow, wAHAHAhahait!!” Maria squealed and giggled louder as the hedgehog delivered rapid pokes up and down her ribs. She batted at his hand, and tried curling on her side.

“Oh, did I miss a spot here?” Shadow pointed out as he poked her other side of ribs. He smiled as he heard her bright giggles.

Maria tried shielding herself by pulling her blanket over her head.

“Trying to evade my revenge will only make things worse!” Shadow declared, yanking the blanket off of her. Maria squealed in surprise, opting to hug her torso for protection. She turned her back to the hedgehog.

“Do you really think that’s going to stop me?” Shadow playfully remarked, raising an amused eyebrow. He was surprised Maria wasn’t putting in a lot of effort to try and stop him, like he did with her. He figured maybe this was just something she secretly liked.

Shadow gently traced imaginary lines up and down the girl’s spine, eliciting more high-pitched giggles. She simply covered her mouth with both hands, and twitched at the soft touch but didn’t try to move away.

Shadow took that as his cue to continue. Time to turn the tables. “Hey, Maria, remember that rhyming chant you always liked to use to mess with me? Well, let’s see if it works on you, too!” He traced another set of parallel lines down her spine. “Let’s see, line line, spider crawling up your spine…” his gloved hand switched to a scribbly claw. “Pat pat…” He gently patted her shoulder blades before…

“Heart attack!” Shadow suddenly reached out to tase Maria’s sides.

Maria squealed loudly and shrieked laughter as the tases didn’t stop. “EEEEEK!! ShAHAHAdow! AAAheeheehahaha!! WAHAhahait, noho faHAHAhair!! I’m only supposed to do th—AAAH! Thahahat to you!!”

“Well, now I’m doing it to you!” The snarky hedgehog pointed out. “This is what you get for pulling all your devious stunts on me!”

Instead of letting her answer, Shadow decided to be mean and slipped his hand under her pajama shirt, gently digging into her belly the same way she’d done with him. The reaction was priceless; Maria screeched and flailed as if she was being electrocuted, but that didn’t deter Shadow.

“SHAHAHAHAHDOW!! AAAAAHEHEHEHAHAHAHAAAA!! WAHAHAHAIT THAT REALLY—EEEEEEHEEHEEHEE!! TIHIHIHICKLES!! EEEEEEEEEK!! NAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Maria’s flailing arm suddenly smacked Shadow on the head. He ducked as her elbow almost collided with his jaw. He decided to turn the tables one last time by slipping his free hand behind her to scribble her back while still fluttering his other against her belly.

“EEEEEEHEEHEEEHEAAAAHAHAHA!! HEHEHEHEY, NO FAHAHAHAHAIR!!”

Shadow kept tickling the girl for a few more seconds before her laughter turned silent. He stopped immediately, suddenly concerned. “Maria? Are you okay?” He shook her shoulder. “Did I go too far?”

Maria shook her head as she panted, her cheeks dusted a pink hue. She sat up, coughing between pants.

Shadow became very worried, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry, I should have stopped.”

“Shadow, it’s okay,” Maria insisted once she caught her breath. “I’m okay, really. I was just laughing really hard.” She giggled, adjusting her shirt. “You really got me good back there. But I’m fine, I promise.”

She smiled reassuringly, which Shadow felt relieved for. He didn’t want to accidentally tire her out too quickly, even if she half-deserved it. “Just…don’t try that on me again, or else I won’t be so merciful next time,” he told her.

Maria laughed it off, completely unfazed by his little threat. “No promises. I’ve never heard you laugh before, Shadow. But it was so cute! And I never knew you were ticklish, either. But I am so gonna tickle you now every chance I get!” She waggled her eyebrows cheekily. “Maybe that’ll teach you not to be so pouty all the time!”

Shadow’s mouth dropped agape, but he recovered in the next second. “Try it, and I’ll make you sorry you ever did.”

“Oooh, soooo scary.”

“You should be. You just never learn, do you?”

“Nope!”

Shadow shook his head with a faint smile. “We better get to sleep. It’s not healthy to stay up so late.”

Maria was about to protest when a yawn interrupted her. Giving up with a tired sigh, she snuggled under the blankets again. Shadow adjusted the blanket for her, making sure she was covered before handing Maria her bear that was discarded off to the side during all her tickly induced flailing.

Maria sleepily smiled and cuddled her plush bear close. Then, Shadow slid under the blanket next to her. Once comfy, he faced his friend who was almost asleep.

“Good night, Maria. Sweet dreams.”

Maria reached out to pet Shadow’s head. “Good night, Shadow,” she sleepily replied, eyes barely open. “Sweet dreams and sleep tight.”

Shadow smiled warmly, and gently petted her head in return. The soft glow of the fairy lights hanging above combined with the warmth of the fuzzy blankets and pillows quickly lulled Shadow into a peaceful sleep. So much better than sleepless nights floating in a giant test tube.

The two friends slept blissfully together, protected in the safe space of their blanket fort. And for the first time since Maria had discovered him in the lab, Shadow slept tranquil enough to not have any nightmares or doubting thoughts. Nothing could harm him as long as they had each other.

THE END

[pinkberrytea]

Writing year in review: 2024

Tysm for the tag @amoremagnificentbastard and @deadly-diminuendo! Took me quite some time but I’m finally doing it! Forgibe 😭

words posted: 32,230

additional words written: 1,551 (Referring to my Secret Santa gift to @amoremagnificentbastard which I haven’t yet posted, I wanted to end the year on an even number 😅)

grand total of words: 33,781

fandoms: BG3

highest kudos: Bloodless - 280 kudos

highest hit oneshot: Memento Mori - 2,813 hits

new things I tried: Everything! I published my first fic back in April and it’s crazy to think it’s been this long since I started. Truth be told I still deal with a lot of insecurity and self-doubt, but I’m endlessly grateful for all the support y’all have shown me along this journey, it means the world to me, truly!

fic I spent the most time on: Vanitas

fic I spent the least time on: Bloodless

favorite thing I wrote: Requiem

favorite thing(s) I read: Oh boy, get ready, because I have a bunch of honorable mentions ��� All of them are Tavstarion fics, but I sorted them by category for easier navigation!

🦇 AA x F!Tav | 🩸 UA x F!Tav | 🌻 UA x F!Tav (post-game) 🥀 AA x F!Reader | 🔪 UA x F!Reader | 🍷 AA x GN!Reader 🌹 UA x GN!Reader | ✨ AU (F!Tav) | nsfw | ongoing

Long fics

🩸 With Stars to Fill my Dream by @xxnashiraxx (ao3 . tumblr) 🩸 Midnight Chimes by @bardic-inspo (ao3 . tumblr) 🦇 Aeterna Nostalgia by @bardic-inspo (ao3 . tumblr) 🦇 Beloved by @starryjuicebox (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 In Another Life by @locallegume (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 Die for You by @astarionancuntnin (ao3 . tumblr) ✨ Branded Blood by @inkymoonbunny (ao3 . tumblr)

Oneshots

🦇 Romance is Dead by @judasiskariot (ao3 . tumblr) 🦇 Blood in the Mortar by @bardic-inspo (ao3 . tumblr) 🦇 Rampaging Bride by @rhiaden (ao3 . tumblr) 🩸 Kissing Every One of Your Ridges by @judasiskariot (ao3 . tumblr) 🩸 Khywren’s Kinktober 2024 by @khywren (ao3 . tumblr) 🌻 Dhampir Dreams by @bardic-inspo (ao3 . tumblr) 🌻 A Feast for the Soul by @nyx-knox (ao3 . tumblr) 🌻 i'll peel my heart like a pomegranate if you promise it won't go to waste by @amoremagnificentbastard (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 venus in furs by @verbenaa (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 Make Your Own Kind of Music by @lipstickghoulie (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 Ribbons of Blood by @lipstickghoulie (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 Midnight Stroll by @blissfulstarsfics (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 Taken to the Hilt by @libbybee (ao3 . tumblr) 🥀 The Life of Astarion's Dark Consort by @faerievampling (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Loss of Innocence by @lipstickghoulie (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Crimson Plots by @lipstickghoulie (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 The Fool by @obsessedwhyyes (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Honeycomb by @roguishcat (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Quick and Dirty by @hhh-hemogoblin (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 For Your Eyes Only by @thedreamlessnights (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 So Innocent by @marlowethebard (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Sweet Dreams, Darling by @deadly-diminuendo (ao3 . tumblr) 🔪 Naughty Girl by @nyx-knox (ao3 . tumblr) ✨ Kinktober 2024 by @xxnashiraxx (ao3 . tumblr) ✨ The Ways of Worship by @astarionancuntnin (ao3 . tumblr) ✨ Atone by @wolficer (ao3 . tumblr) 🌹 When I Think About You by @kittenintheden (ao3 . tumblr) 🍷 Dancing with the Devil by @bananasfosterparent (ao3 . tumblr) 🍷 Bound by You by @carooosa (ao3 . tumblr)

Not all of these were written in 2024, but I only started reading fic in March, so that's why they are included here. I highly highly recommend all of them! As you can see, I’m an avid reader, so feel free to throw recs my way 🥰

writing goals for 2025: I really want to maybe try dipping my toes into xOC territory rather than just sticking to xreader. I’ve been neglecting Mav for so long, it’s about time I start writing for her!

new works:

Bloodless

Death & his Maiden

I've tagged plenty of people already when citing my favorite reads, and I'm also pretty late to the party, so no tags this time! If you're reading this, consider yourself tagged!

[wannab-urs]

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. 

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here. 

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH. 

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar. 

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming. 

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet. 

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners. 

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?” 

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading. 

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?” 

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.” 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap. 

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file. 

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work. 

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner. 

 “So what are your plans tonight?” he asks. 

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe. 

“Your plans? For your birthday?” 

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet. 

“Me and Murphy could take you out?” 

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,”  Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door. 

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life. 

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve? 

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door. 

“Peña? What are you doing here?” 

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face. 

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!” 

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.” 

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware. 

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it. 

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.” 

“Fine… thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you. 

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better. 

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you. 

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little. 

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip. 

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty. 

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips. 

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.” 

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?” 

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby.” 

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you. 

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you. 

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

 He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?” 

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.” 

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you. 

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter. 

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly. 

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[duskandstarlight]

A Golden Opportunity: Part Four

Nessian [Modern AU]

Notes: Wow, long time no speak, no post, no write. But I'm back - maybe, who knows (hopefully). It turns out this little fic is the thing that made me want to write again and it's been so fun rediscovering my Nessian babies.

No idea if anyone is reading this anymore (@simpingfornestaarcheron tells me the Nessian fandom isn't as active on here anymore so I live with no expectations) but here's an update anyway - and it's also on A03! Big thanks to @noirshadow as always, for being my champion and for getting out her red pen for me despite being absolutely slammed at work.

Oh, and this is angsty AF I am sorry.

PS Sorry, this taglist is most likely HUGELY out of date but it's all I have. Shout if you are under a diff name / don't want to hear from me anymore - TY.

Part Four - Cassian

Cassian didn’t hear from Nesta for weeks. She didn’t turn up to brunches or family events where he was in attendance. And, of course, she didn’t text him. That conversation remained entirely untouched, like a lone tombstone; surrounded by overgrown grass and weeds, some abandoned flowers brown and crumbling collected with a dirty ribbon at its feet.

If it had not been for the subtle nods to Nesta’s continued existence, Cassian might have thought she’d been entirely erased from the planet. But there were name drops from her sisters, mentions of meeting for coffee, of having her over for lunch. At dinner the previous week, Cassian had overheard Elain confiding to Feyre that Nesta had seemed out of sorts. And Cassian, who had been straining to overhear the conversation, had felt both pained and filled with some a stark sense of hope that if she’d at least let him go, at the very least, she might be mourning him, too. 

Maybe, he thought fatuously, she cared too much. Maybe, she was still mulling them over, weighing the pros and cons. 

Maybe, by some sort of miracle, she would come to the conclusion that he was worth it.

But that hope dwindled as the days continued to pass and Cassian still heard nothing from Nesta. At some point, he knew he needed to take her silence as a no. Knew he would need to follow through on his side of the bargain. Allow that line to be drawn beneath them, the flame snuffed out until there was nothing but ash.

As the weeks passed, Cassian’s spiky irritability fell into a flat sadness that physically ached. He continued to run every day despite his protesting knee. He continued to work himself until he just couldn’t anymore and tried not to think of her. 

But Nesta crept through the gaps in his mind anyway - snatches of her, always beautiful, always sardonically cruel in their torture. Jasmine and vanilla. The smell of her skin as he buried his nose into her neck. Wisps of golden-brown hair escaping from a braid. The glint in her eye, the upwards tilt of her chin as she accepted a challenge. 

The taste of her mouth, the sound of her sigh, her breath whispering across his cheek. 

A hint of a smile - then better, the sound of her laugh. A true one, just for him.

And on and on it went with no reprieve—

“Is that the amended timetable for next week?”

Anyone else might have jumped, but Cassian was used to Azriel’s ability to sneak up on him. 

The thought of Nesta vanished in a wisp, like smoke rising from an extinguished candle. And despite having spent the past few weeks trying to forget her, Cassian found himself irrationally disgruntled that Azriel had interrupted the vision.

Leaning back in the leather desk chair that resided in he and Azriel’s shared office, Cassian grunted in affirmation.

“Boxing needs to be at six thirty if you want me to take that class,” Azriel replied. “I’m in a meeting at the Sangravah site until four.”

Cassian made another noise in the back of his throat. Scribbled out the timetable with a little too much outward frustration and acknowledged, not for the first time, how tired he was. 

But regardless of the fact that his eyelids were actually burning due to a severe lack of sleep, the problem still remained that whenever Cassian tried to rest, his mind did the opposite. 

And then he was thinking of Nesta again. Of the way she stared dead ahead during their car ride, unable to face him as he laid his feelings bare - how he’d always felt right from the start.

Not that it had made any difference. 

And then there was his mum, too. 

She was always at the forefront of his mind at this time of year. The blurry shape of her, the edges of her fading into shadow, time slowly eating away at her frame until she threatened to disappear completely. 

Soon, all that would be left of her would be the cavernous space where she should have been. And Cassian knew that would haunt him too - worse, even, his mourning growing even more acute. 

For now, he was lucky enough to still hear the crackle of his mum’s laugh, feel her chapped palm warm against his as they walked hand-in-hand down the street. He could even scent the shampoo of her hair as she hugged him close, her hair tickling his nose. Could remember how, whilst his chin always met her bony shoulder, Cassian always felt like they fit just right. The two of them, together - always. 

But now it was just him, alone. 

Reaching for the red pen atop the surface of his desk, Cassian intended to tackle the timetable for good. But then his laptop pinged with a notification.

Lifting his eyes to the messaging app open on his browser, Cassian expected to find his one thirty pm client cancelling on him.

But what he saw had his fingers diving for the keyboard.

Nesta 🧙‍♀️: Where are you?

Cassian felt his heart beat with such force that it lurched upwards, tearing through pericardium to lodge itself impossibly in his throat. 

His fingers moved before he could command them. Had hit enter before he could even read his response.

Cassian: Work. 

Cassian’s thoughts began to race, his anticipation a tempo to the rapidity of his pulse. Did she finally want to talk? Had she finally made a decision on them? Was she going to end it all without even looking him in the eye, a hastily typed dismissal to match the original message she’d sent to cancel their first date?

He couldn’t bear waiting, couldn’t bear that Nesta was not typing. But then, as the wait became a little too long, something crept along the back of his neck. A feeling. A premonition. An omen that something was off.

“What is it?” 

There was a rare frown that accompanied the usual chill to Azriel’s voice. 

But Cassian didn’t have time to tell his brother to kindly fuck off and stop reading the conversation over his shoulder. 

Instead, he was typing, his fingers moving at a speed he hadn’t known possible - terrified that if he was not fast enough, that she might disappear on him.  

He hammered his fingers into the keys, asking what he, somehow, knew to be true. What’s wrong?

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then came back. 

Cassian found he was holding his breath without realising. And when the answer finally came, his heart seemed to thud to a stop in his throat, as if it were too horrified to beat.

Nesta 🧙‍♀️: I’m at Kaffe at the corner of Bone and Salt. Tomas is here.

Cassian’s office chair roared as it wheeled back across the hardwood floor - straight into the granite planes of Azriel’s stomach before rebounding back into Cassian’s knees. 

Not that Cassian registered it. He was already leaning back over the oak desk, firing off the question he needed an answer to. 

Cassian: Has he seen you?

No. The cursed three dots appeared again, but this time they didn’t take long to disappear as Nesta’s reply materialised on the screen. I don’t think so, he shouldn’t know I live near here. But I can’t leave. I’d have to walk straight past him.

Cassian: Stay there.

Blindly, Cassian reached for the jacket he’d slung over the back of his chair, for the mobile in his jeans’ pocket. 

When he turned towards the door, Azriel was already there, car keys in hand. 

“Kaffe?” he asked.

The downwards jerk of Cassian’s chin passed as a nod. “On the corner of Bone and Salt.”

“Let’s go,” Azriel said as Cassian’s mobile buzzed again in his hand.

Another notification from Nesta. And when Cassian read what she’d typed, he knew just how it sounded. Small and unsure and so unlike his Nesta that Cassian wanted to beat something—a very particular someone until they didn’t stand again. 

Nesta 🧙‍♀️: Cassian? 

Cassian: I’m coming to get you. Don’t try and walk past him, ok? Promise me, Nesta. 

For a moment, nothing. Then:

Nesta 🧙‍♀️: How long will you be?

Cassian: Fifteen minutes if the traffic is good. Can you wait that long?

Not that Cassian could change the shape of time to get there sooner. But what he meant was: can you survive? Can you keep it together until then? Because Cassian had witnessed Nesta scared around her ex and it made someone who was usually perfectly composed, wild and unpredictable. He had no idea what Nesta she’d be today. Whether she’d suddenly bolt, her fear overriding her ability to be inconspicuous and grabbing Tomas’s attention in the process. Or whether she’d freeze where she was, paralysed with fear, unable to move. 

The rear lights of Azriel’s Tesla flashed through the drizzle as they exited via the back entrance of the gym.

Cassian didn’t remember tugging on his seat belt or the soft chime of the infotainment system as Azriel brought the car to life. 

All he was focused on was the screen, his conversation with Nesta as she told him, Don’t let him see you.

That was something Cassian knew all too well. 

In the time Cassian had had the displeasure of knowing Tomas, the male had been consumed with the idea that he and Nesta were having an affair behind his back. On that count, he’d been wrong. But there was no denying to anyone who knew him that Cassian had taken one look at Nesta across the room at Feyre’s birthday party and known that his gravity had just shifted, his world tilting even further on its axis.

Cassian: He won’t.

Nesta 🧙‍♀️: He won’t?

Cassian: He won’t. I’ll be there soon, ok?

After that, no answer came. Every second on the road was torture, but thankfully, despite the spitting rain darting patterns on the windshield, the traffic was on their side. Azriel streamlined along the road, smooth as butter and for a while, they remained in silence.

Until finally, Azriel asked, “What do you need?”

So, Cassian told him. Together they formed a plan. Together, they stepped out of the automatic doors and into the small parking lot at the rear of the coffee shop, ready to step into their assigned roles.

After all, he and Azriel had always been a team.

Yet, it all seemed to take too long - especially as Cassian waited uselessly in the alleyway out the back. Feet eating up the rain-soaked tarmac, pacing back and forth, past the foul smelling bins that lined the concrete wall and the employee entrance to the coffee shop opposite.

Too much time had passed when the back door finally opened with a loud clank. 

A girl stood in the entryway, the heavy industrial door propped open with an outstretched arm. She was wearing a coffee-stained apron, her hair haphazardly piled atop her head.

She looked unsure. “Are you Cassian?”

Together, they walked down the short echoey corridor, the vinyl floor squeaking too loudly beneath the wet soles of Cassian’s shoes.

“There’s a door through that closet,” the girl told him. She pointed through the doorway, into the darkness. “If you open it you’ll be at the back of the shop.” 

Cassian stepped over a mop and bucket, passing cleaning supplies and endless stock that lined the shelves: takeaway cups, stirrers, and sugar packets.

Then the door was there. The light from the shop on the other side shining through the cracks, beckoning him. 

It was like stepping into another world, out of a vacuum. Immediately, the quiet from the storeroom was swallowed up by the noise of the shop: the chatter, the moving bodies, the background music coming from the speakers on the walls. 

The mid-morning rush was a relief - a shop bustling with customers made it easier to be inconspicuous. After all, it was exactly that which allowed Azriel to slip away from the front counter and out the entrance, a baseball cap angled low to shield his face from view.

They’d meet at the car as planned - once Cassian had extricated Nesta from the shop.

Easing the door shut behind him, Cassian scanned his surroundings. It was no surprise that his eyes immediately snagged at the sight of Nesta’s golden head. She was not sitting too far from where he’d entered, her laptop balanced on the tabletop in front of her. 

The tension knotting her shoulders, her neck, her ramrod spine, were as clear as day. In fact, the utter stillness emanating from her could only be described as inanimate - that of a statue.

And Cassian knew what had caused it, had been prepared for it, but when he saw the evidence before him, it still struck hard. 

Ahead of Nesta, only by a few seats, was Tomas Mandray.

He was leaning back in his chair in the way Cassian had learnt to expect of Nesta’s ex-partner: taking up more space than he should for a male who was neither wide or tall. Slouching practically sideways in his chair, Tomas was scrolling mindlessly on his phone. One foot was stretched out so it was slap bang in the lone aisle that separated the two halves of the shop. The calf of his other leg rested atop it, the sole of his shoe sticking out so anyone wanting to get past him would have to ask for him to move - Nesta included.

Anger flared inside of Cassian, fresh and salt hot. It tasted like blood, smelt like it, looked like it, but Cassian made himself push back the colour red as he began to make his way down the aisle.

Nesta didn’t sense him coming. Nor did Cassian expect her to. He hadn’t messaged her since he’d first entered the car and it had been a decision he’d weighed up the entire rest of the ride.

But in the end, both he and Azriel had decided that if Nesta knew the intended plan and it went sideways, she might panic enough to do something rash.

It was a choice Cassian came to regret the moment he opened his mouth.

“Nesta.”

It didn’t matter that he’d had purposefully moulded her name into something soft: Nesta jumped a mile. Then, two things happened at once. The first was that her head turned so fast Cassian wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d gotten whiplash. The second, was that the shock of seeing him sent the mobile in her hand flying.

Cassian didn’t have a moment to think, but his reflexes never failed him. His hand shot out to catch the phone at the same time that Nesta’s did. The mobile missed the table by a breath and tumbled into her lap where they trapped it, their fingers tangled. 

Nesta’s grip was so white Cassian could see the straining tendons. Breathing hard, he raised his eyes to meet hers only to find that they’d already snapped back to Tomas.

Cassian had seen that look of fixation in people plenty before. There was flight or fight but there was also freeze — and Nesta was definitely in the latter. He needed to get her attention for long enough that he could convince her to leave, but with her eyes so saucer-wide that he could see the whites of them, her pupils blown, skin bloodless, breathing shallow, Cassian knew it was going to be easier said than done. 

“Hey sweetheart.” The affectionate term came out in a low rumble that did nothing to penetrate Nesta’s steadfast attention. Cassian sank into a crouch beside her. Tried again, “Nesta.”

This time there was enough quiet command in his voice that her eyes finally dragged to look at him. It was fleeting. A scant acknowledgement that he was kneeling beside her, but it was all Cassian had to work with so he seized it. “Time to go.”

But it was too late. Nesta’s attention was already back on Tomas and she was drawing herself in, shrinking back into her chair until she looked so small and so unlike the Nesta Cassian had come to know, that his heart cracked on her behalf.

It physically ached, that fissure. Threatened to snatch Cassian’s breath as he teetered at the edge of it - a depthless cavern, jagged like a lifeline.

For years, Cassian had watched as Nesta glued herself back together. He’d seen it all. The grief of who she’d been, who she’d been forced to become when, on her knees, she realised the shattered pieces of her identity didn’t fit back together. Splinters were missing, core fragments of her personality had changed shape so monumentously that she finally realised they would never slot back into the past version of herself. 

And she’d weathered it. Mourned it, yes, but then Nesta had gritted her teeth and fought it. Discovered the new pieces of herself, acknowledged the changed, filled the gaps until she’d drawn together into someone who was stronger, more resilient yet intrinsically still Nesta. 

Cassian would not let that battle go to waste. Would not let a male with a small dick and an abusive temper ruin someone who, quite frankly, was the most amazing person he’d ever met.

Shifting his weight onto his better leg, Cassian ignored his throbbing knee and said, “We don’t need to walk past him. We can leave out the back—”

But Nesta was shaking her head. When she finally spoke, her confession was a hoarse whisper. “I can’t do it, Cassian.”

In all the time Nesta had known him, she’d barely ever called him by his name. He’d imagined her saying it like it was a habit, for sure. But he hadn’t thought it would come out with a confession, in a crackled, broken whisper. 

Gently coaxing Nesta’s phone from her vice-like grip, Cassian slipped it into his jacket pocket. Then, before her fingers could ball into fists he slowly threaded their fingers together. “Yes, you can. I know you can. I’ve seen you do it before.”

Cassian had dared to hope that the contact would pull her attention back to him, but it didn’t work.

So slowly, Cassian raised their hands, pressed them into his cheek.

For a fleeting second, he had her. Nesta’s eyes snapped to him - to the warmth of his skin. But then they darted away, back to Tomas who was now talking on his mobile.

Nesta's grip on him tightened at the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s voice, locking down so hard that Cassian knew if he were to look at their threaded fingers, they’d appear bled dry.

Hoping that Nesta was still listening, Cassian continued, “There’s a door out the back. It’s how I got in. He won’t see you but we should go now whilst he’s distracted.”

And then Cassian took the biggest risk of all. He lifted their hands to his mouth, pressed his lips to her fingers.

That’s what did it in the end— it was like a summoning. Nesta tore her eyes away from Tomas. It took effort, Cassian could tell because her eyes darted back and forth until finally they stayed with him. Long enough for her to confess her greatest fear around the tightness in her throat. “He might.”

“Not today.” 

Carefully, Cassian stood, ignoring the painful tweak in his knee as he did so. 

Tomas was still on his mobile. Somehow, he was leaning back even further in his chair, commanding the space. His voice was so loud and obnoxious that the woman at the table next to him shot him a glare.

Cassian didn’t care. Tomas was busy and that was how they wanted him.

“We’re going to get you out of here, but I need you to get up. You can do this, ok?”

There. A hesitation. A belief that dared to creep in through the cracks of Nesta’s fear and tell her that there might be hope.

After that, the adrenaline kicked in. Nesta fumbled for her bag, her belongings. By then her hands were shaking so badly that she nearly dropped her laptop, but Cassian swooped in, swept everything into her satchel and shouldered it. 

“This way,” he coaxed, summoning every ounce of restraint not to touch the small of her back in encouragement. He had a feeling if he did that all the adrenaline coursing through her veins would make her startle.

Somehow, they made it out. The moment Cassian closed the closet door behind them, shutting out the coffee shop, he could breathe a little easier. Didn’t worry so much when Nesta stumbled over a bucket, the sound ricocheting around the storeroom as she righted herself. 

The fresh air that hit them as they stepped outside was bracing. It snatched the breath from their lungs. But to Cassian it tasted like nothing but relief. He barely noticed the fine fuzz of rain that immediately coated his clothing, wet his face, his hair.

And clearly neither did Nesta. For the second the back door shut behind them, Nesta met his eyes. And then, without any adieu, she bent over double and vomited onto the tarmac.

The suddenness of it all was so unexpected and so violent that Cassian moved on instinct. He forgot that he was supposed to be keeping his distance. Forgot that he was trying not to spook her.

In hindsight, during the long night that followed, Cassian replayed the following scene over and over in his head trying to make sense of it. And each time, he came to the same conclusion. Nesta - whose body was hyper-vigilant beyond belief - clocked him leaping towards her out of the corner of her eye and catalogued him as a threat.

Nesta startled like an animal running for its life, jerking away from him before he could reach her.

But whilst Cassian had paced up and down the alleyway for a good five minutes before Azriel had sent the staff member to the back door, Nesta was unacquainted with her surroundings.

Bent over double as she was, she didn’t see the wall until it was too late. Straightening and twisting away from him at the same time, Nesta collided into the pebble dash with a crack.

“Shit,” Cassian panted, eyes wide, hands up as he hastily backed away from her. “I’m sorry, Nesta. I didn’t think—”

He abruptly stopped speaking as Nesta lurched forwards again, the movement jolting and ugly, and retched.

The acrid scent of bile mingled with the odour coming from the trash cans - old food and stale coffee and the wet mulch of cardboard intermingling with damp rain - the latter of which was coming down harder now. 

But now, neither of them noticed. 

All Cassian could think of was Nesta. He watched her straighten, her hands now clutching at her head as if that might physically hold in the shock of the collision. 

And all Cassian could do was stand there, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon but the rest of him frozen in place. His palms, which had flown up on instinct when she’d thrust away from him, were still facing her, as if she had him at gunpoint. 

He was too scared to move, too frightened that he’d do something else idiotically stupid and cause her more harm.

For a moment, they stared at one another wide-eyed. Cassian could feel his pulse hammering in his throat, trying to burst out of his skin. 

Nesta swiped at her mouth with the back of her shaking hand. When she dropped it from her bloodless face, her lips parted as if she were planning on speaking but then they shut again, her mouth a thin, brittle line.

He watched this happen again, then again. After the third attempt to speak, Cassian watched her give up. Watched her press the heel of her palm to the exact spot where her head had collided with the wall, her brows knitting in confusion, as if she didn’t understand where the pain had suddenly come from.

When her fingers came away, Cassian was alarmed to see that they were red.

It took everything he had not to step towards her, to see if she was ok. But he didn’t dare risk it after he’d terrified her so badly. 

Instead, his punishment for being so idiotically stupid was to watch this play out. To watch her lower her trembling hand so it hung limply at her side and watch a trickle of blood escape down her temple.

Nesta didn’t seem aware of it. Instead, she just continued to stare at him in disbelief.

Then, her expression rippled. A tremor, violent before it was trapped and smoothed out.

A beat passed. 

“Sorry,” she said hoarsely - finally, when she clearly thought herself composed. But her voice wavered as she spoke, and the sound of it seemed to be the breaking point.

Cassian balled his hands to stop himself from reaching out to her. Slowly, he took a discreet step backwards, granting her more space even though all he wanted to do was to pull her to him and swathe her in his arms.

But the action didn’t go unnoticed. If anything, it was the finger on the trigger, the foundational straw pulled out from beneath her.

There was a shaky, high-pitched rush of breath, a last attempt to keep the tears at bay - but it was too late. Nesta’s face crumpled and then words were toppling out between gasped sobs.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why he’s here. He shouldn’t be here—”

“I know.” There was a crack in Cassian’s voice now, a maelstrom of emotions. The aching sadness of seeing her like this, the angry truth of it all, the stark, terrible reality. And then there was the fury of his contribution to it. Him, the male he had hoped she might come to trust, ruining it all. The sound of her head hitting the concrete. “Please. Let me take you home—“

“Is everything ok here?”

A voice interrupted Cassian, smooth as always and deliberately tempered down to be soft. 

Nesta startled anyway. She scrambled away but when she realised she was too close to the wall, she halted in her tracks, panting.

Cassian didn’t need to turn to see who it was, but when he did, his arm outstretched to tell his brother to stay put, he found Azriel in the mouth of the alleyway. 

In his left hand, the car keys dangled.

Azriel did not take a step forward. Instead, he kept his eyes on Cassian. Said, “Tomas is still in the coffee shop, but we should make a quick exit if we want to be safe. He looked like he was readying himself to leave and I’m not sure if his car is in the parking lot.”

Later, when Cassian was back at home he marvelled at how they managed to get Nesta into the car. He supposed the threat of her ex was enough to make someone who was currently very afraid of men shut herself into a car with two hulking ones.

Striding ahead, Cassian opened the rear door for Nesta before backing away. Heart in his mouth, he got into the passenger side, opposite Azriel at the wheel, keeping his gaze locked ahead, not wanting to spook her, not wanting her to second guess a thing. 

In fact, Cassian didn’t feel like he drew a breath. Not as the rear door shut, as fabric rustled, the seat belt pulled across a body, the click as Nesta buckled herself in.

Even as Azriel eased them onto the main road, the rain coming down harder now, Cassian starved his lungs of air.

But when the coffee shop disappeared from view, Cassian allowed a breath to slowly rush back in.

He turned to Azriel. “Head to the hospital—”

“No.”

The response was forthright and quick while at the same time having a quiet incorporeal quality to it - as if it caught in mid-air and retracted into itself before it established itself.

Turning in his seat, Cassian looked at Nesta.

She was staring vacantly out the window, her body moving with the car as it turned in the same way

a puppet followed the command of its strings. “I don’t need a doctor.”

“You’re bleeding, Nesta.”

Absently, Nesta raised a hand to her temple, stared at the red glistening on her fingertips. “It’s superficial.”

“You don’t know that.”

Nesta let her hand fall into her lap, discarded. “I do.”

The seconds that followed felt as if they were swallowed by the gaping maw of silence. Two simple words threatening the imagination as it conjured images Cassian didn’t want to see. A body being thrown around, bruises and fractured ribs, a broken nose and two black eyes. Fell down the stairs, tripped over my own feet. The crack of a nose being set back into place, hiding away to protect a monster. I can’t come tonight, I’ve got a book deadline to meet. I’ll see you when I'm done.

All of it unravelling behind Cassian eyes, in his head, overtaking his senses - everything. 

“Where should I drive to?”

Azriel’s voice cut through the images, abrupt, like a full stop thrown into the middle of a sentence. 

Cassian didn’t stop looking at Nesta. She was still staring fixedly out the window, but he could tell she wasn’t seeing anything at all. He watched her slip farther away, the distance growing and growing, a cavernous feeling, vast, empty.

He turned back in his seat. A plan was already unfolding in his mind. 

Cassian’s hand dipped into his pocket, his fingers closing around the cool metal of his mobile. 

“Mine.”

***

“I need a bowl of warm water.”

A snap punctuated the end of Mor’s request as she stretched the fingers of the disposable rubber glove she was fitting to her hand. 

The action came with the precision of someone who spent her days taking them on and off. Of the doctor who worked at the female health clinic in the less affluent districts and saw things she wished she didn’t.

There was no familiar warmth in his friend’s voice as she spoke. In fact, Mor didn’t even look at Cassian. Instead, she seated herself back atop the coffee table and began to rifle through the personally engraved medical bag he, Azriel and Rhys had gifted her for Winter Solstice last year.

Opposite her, curled up small in the corner of the couch was Nesta, pale in every sense of the word. Pale in pallor, pale in expression, pale in existence - as if she was fading from the room. 

The distance that Cassian had felt growing between Nesta and the world had quadrupled since their car journey home. Wraith-like, Nesta had followed him into his apartment and sat mechanically onto his couch without really seeming to take any of it in. Nor had she touched the mug of chai he’d left on the coffee table in front of her.

That absence, that space, had seemed to worsen since Mor had stepped through the door five minutes ago. 

And Cassian knew that bringing Mor into the equation was not something Nesta would take lightly. But he had been at a loss for what else to do. Nesta had refused to go to the hospital to be checked over and the only person Cassian knew could help - and who would be discreet - was his best friend. 

And Mor, despite her rare day off, had dropped whatever she had been doing and driven straight to him.

Ceramic clinked against the wood of the coffee table as Cassian set down the bowl beside where Mor was seated.

Mor straightened, a small pocket torch in hand. 

She clicked it on.

“Thanks. We’ll be a few minutes.”

It was a firm dismissal and Cassian didn’t dispute it. 

He had already turned to leave when Nesta spoke—

“He can stay.”

Slowly, Nesta slid her gaze away from the tears crying down the window pane, locked them onto Mor in a way that was both absent and wholly fixated at the same time.

Nesta’s eyes were the same slate colour of the sky — no hope of blue within them. 

Mor simply stared back, unfazed, undeterred - strong. “When I’ve performed the initial examination he can come back in. But not until then.”

“No.”

One word. Simple. Defiant despite the disembodied quality to it. The most emotion Nesta had displayed since he’d found her. 

It was enough to tell Cassian that his Nesta was still in there fighting - even if she looked like hell. 

Mor’s lips flattened into a grim line. “That’s my policy, I’m afraid—”

“Then change it.”

The aftermath of Nesta’s order crackled with static. Like a radio before it tuned into the right station. A gear grinding into fourth.

During the whole interaction, there had been no change to Nesta’s expression. It was as if her body had almost shut down, but as Mor searched it, really looked, her serious honey brown eyes scanning Nesta’s face, she seemed to see something in the depths Cassian couldn’t. For she straightened, looked from Nesta to Cassian with a grim sort of understanding, before shifting her attention back to Nesta.

Mor held up a gloved hand. 

“Follow my finger,” she instructed.

***

The snap of rubber and then the subsequent rustle as they nestled amongst the other discarded items in the waste paper basket signalled the end of the examination. 

“It’s a nasty bump but it looks worse than it is,” Mor told Nesta as she began to stow away items into the open medical bag. “No need for stitches and no major concussion from the looks of it. But you’ll have significant bruising, I’m afraid.”

Cassian shifted on his feet from where he stood by the dining table. He had strategically positioned himself by the dining table, which had allowed himself to observe Mor’s assessment of Nesta without crowding the scene. But now, he was unable to stop himself from voicing one of his concerns. “And the vomiting? Nesta was sick right after she hit her head.”

“And before.” Nesta’s reminder was scratchy and resigned, as if Cassian was fussing for nothing. She leant backwards farther into the couch, the cushions threatened to swallow her up. “I just need to sleep it off.” 

She tugged the blanket Cassian had draped over her knees higher over her body, towards her chin. Cassian wondered if she was consciously trying to create a barrier between her and everyone else in the room.

Cassian didn’t know what last time meant, but Mor didn’t press Nesta for more information as her head swivelled back to face her patient.

“The vomiting is most likely from the acute shock of—”

But Nesta wasn’t interested in hearing more. For the first time, her face showed a ripple of what she was feeling: irritation, her patience clearly as threadbare and worn as her body. “Can I sleep now?”

Seemingly unaffected by Nesta’s directness, Mor nodded. “It will do you good. But—” she held up a hand, as if anticipating resistance. “—you will need to be monitored every few hours just in case you do have a light concussion. Is there anyone who can stay with you?”

Nesta stiffened. “I live alone.”

“Emerie? Gwyn?”

Nesta’s gaze shifted past Mor’s shoulder, back to the window. There was a stretched out pause as if the hypnotic stream of water falling down the glass had taken Nesta out of his moment, this room. 

When she spoke, her voice seemed faint, like an echo. “Emerie’s on a business trip. Gwyn has her National Counselor Examination exam tomorrow.”

Mor looked to Cassian. “And you?”

“Done for the day.” Cassian lied, watching Nesta’s face closely in case it betrayed any further feeling. “Nesta can stay here.”

***

When Cassian emerged from the bedroom, Mor was waiting. Leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter, her hip propping her up, she watched him discerningly as he quietly closed the door and came to join her.

A soft rattle sounded in Cassian’s ear as he flipped on the kettle switch. Turning his head, he found Mor shaking a small round bottle at him. “Found these painkillers in the bathroom cabinet. Give these to Nesta every four hours if she wants them - they’ll help with the headache until she’s feeling better.”

Cassian arched an eyebrow but didn’t bother to berate Mor for rifling through his cabinets. Mor sometimes had a tendency to rummage around his one-bed apartment as if she lived with him, helping herself to whatever she needed. Cassian didn’t really mind. Growing up, he’d never had a sibling. He’d always been a lone child.

Now, he was fortunate to have two brothers and a best friend who had eventually evolved into someone he considered to be a sister. 

He was never going to complain about her feeling comfortable in his home. 

So, instead he took the bottle from Mor and asked, “And the nausea?”

“If it’s the result of physical shock, it should disappear soon. Sleep will certainly help reduce the stress and adrenaline in her body. Emotional shock can take longer.”

Now, Mor’s eyes turned sharper as she moved to face him fully. Even as she feigned casual, planting her freshly manicured hands behind her on the counter and leant backwards. “Nesta has had quite the day.”

The kettle clicked off, steam rose from the beak and billowed outwards, spreading like fog. Cassian poured hot water over the tea bag, the familiar scent of green tea momentarily assaulting him. 

When he realised Mor was not going to continue without some sort of response, he made an acquiescent sound in the back of his throat.

“Not like Nesta to get into an accident like that,” Mor continued carefully. “She’s always so composed.”

At that, Cassian turned his head and simply looked at his friend, not speaking. Steam rose between them from his mug. It felt damp on Cassian’s face, but he didn’t blink. He knew what Mor was trying to get at. Had been well aware that when he’d called her over here that she’d know something was up. That, even as she was trod carefully, that this wouldn’t be a subject she’d let lie.

“Cassian,” Mor tried again, her voice low now, “does Nesta need to report someone for the bump on her head? I see it all the time at the clinic and the shock she’s in goes beyond physical.”

The gentle clunk as Cassian set down his mug was enough to disrupt Mor. “Not unless you want to report me.”

Mor grew very still. “What are you talking about?”

“She was scared and I startled her.” Cassian hadn’t planned to confess this - and he still would never betray Nesta by mentioning Tomas - but the guilt that had been rotting inside of him since the incident in the alleyway was now pouring out of him. He couldn’t stop it.The responsibility of causing her more harm when he had supposed to be rescuing her. 

Scrubbing the heel of his palm hard into his forehead as if that might rid the headache of the utter shit show that had been today, he continued, “It was so stupid of me, Mor. So stupid. She threw up and it was so sudden that my head just emptied of sense. Instinct overtook me. I moved towards her, to help or to comfort her, I don’t know and she bolted. Ran headfirst into a wall trying to get away from me.”

There was a careful look to Mor now. The frown that had been marring her forehead whilst he spoke evened back out. But Cassian knew her well enough to see the thoughts sliding behind her irises as she tried to connect the dots. “You didn’t scare her initially.”

“No.”

There was a brief pause whilst Mor processed the information. Then, she stepped towards him sombre-faced and slipped her hands around his waist. She hugged him tight. She smelt like she always did — of cinnamon and citrus, of home. 

“Don’t punish yourself too harshly. It was a mistake.”

Mor’s voice was muffled, almost swallowed by his jacket.

Clenching his jaw, Cassian rested his chin atop her head. “I made things worse.”

Pulling back to examine his face, Mor kept her arms looped around his waist. “But your intentions were good. You are good, Cassian.”

Cassian just clenched his jaw.

“Are you going to be ok?” Mor asked after a beat. When he didn’t reply, she gave him a final squeeze and, minding the mug of boiling water he still held in one hand, extracted herself. “Silly question, I suppose. Want me to stay?”

“No, I won’t be much company. Plus,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at her subtly elevated outfit that sat just above casual and the undulating waves of her freshly-washed hair that Cassian knew had been painfully crafted in front of a mirror, “it looks like I’ve already interrupted your plans for today. Are we dating again?”

Rolling her eyes, Mor hefted her doctor’s bag off the counter and onto her shoulder. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be at home anyway.”

“Thanks.” Deciding not to press her for more details, Cassian trailed his friend to the door. “I think it goes without saying that I owe you.” 

But Mor just turned. Gripped Cassian’s shoulders until he met her eyes. “Friends don’t owe one another, Cass. Ring if you need me, ok?”

***

Despite the gravity of the day, time continued to pass - albeit slowly, torturously. 

Nesta slept and Cassian worked from the dining table in the living room, trying to work but ultimately failing, his eyes more often than not trained on the bedroom door. 

He’d pushed it ajar as soon as Mor had left, unable to stop worrying that something could happen to Nesta and he might miss it.

Cassian knew he was overreacting and if Nesta hadn’t been so scared of him earlier, so on edge, he might have worked from the armchair in the bedroom itself. 

But the dining table had to do. From his vantage point, Cassian could just make out the curled up figure beneath his duvet, the shadowy tangle of hair draped across his pillow.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t been instructed to check in on Nesta every few hours. To ask her mundane questions like: What’s your name? Where are you? What day and year is it? Spell ‘world’ backwards? 

But each time, when it finally came to wake Nesta, Cassian found himself full of a sort of dread that felt akin to chunks being taken out of his chest every time she opened her eyes. 

It was not least because the depth of Nesta’s sleep was so vast and weighty that it made it hard to rouse her in a way that didn’t feel violent. But also because each time Cassian managed to haul Nesta out of it, she startled. 

The first time had been the worst. Cassian could have sworn that he’d scented her fear before she wrangled it under a forced sort of control that did nothing to hide the panic lingering beneath it. All the while, Cassian knelt beside her as unthreateningly as possible, trying not to loom, cursing the breadth and height of his frame.

Six hours on and Nesta’s reaction to him had thankfully weathered into an apprehensive wariness, as if her body and mind had anticipated what was happening in an attempt to save her from further stress. Opening her eyes, Nesta would tiredly answer whatever Cassian asked of her before she let sleep drag her back down again to its murky depths.

Nesta’s fatigue was not a tiredness Cassian recognised. Instead, he had come to understand that this was Sleep. An entity that yanked at you with taloned hands, snatching you back down so body and mind could restore itself. 

The buzz of an incoming call pulled Cassian’s attention away from the bedroom door. Quickly, he plucked the device from the table so the vibrations wouldn’t wake Nesta and took long strides down the hall.

Putting the door on latch, Cassian stepped into the hallway.

“Emerie,” he said.

Relief surged through Cassian as Emerie’s voice, complete with the soft curl of her Illyrian accent filtered down the speaker. “Why have I got the feeling that I’m not going to like the reason why I’ve got six missed calls from you and a text to ring you as soon as I can?”

“Because you’re right.” Cassian cleared his throat, readying him to elaborate, but Emerie got there first.

“Is it Tomas, Cassian?” 

Emerie’s voice was so gentle that Cassian suddenly felt as if he might choke.

He fought the sensation, swallowed. “There was a close encounter today,” he admitted, and he felt the noose around his neck loosen at the confession. He might not have been able to tell Mor, but Emerie knew everything - more than him - and he hoped that she would know how to best help Nesta - even if she was currently in another state on a business trip.

Emerie remained quiet as the day’s events poured out of Cassian. But when he finished and her silence continued - the faint sound of traffic in the background the only indication that she was still with him - he began to worry.

But then Emerie sighed. It sounded sad, the noise trailing out until it hung between them. Finally, Emerie said, “The tiredness is normal. When she left Tomas, she slept for days. The same happened after the court ruling.”

“That’s what Mor said but—”

“Mor?”

“I—” Cassian broke off with a sigh at the high-pitched and disbelieving tone of Emerie’s voice. Running his free hand exasperatedly over his face, before tugged at the knots in his hair, he said resignedly, “She wouldn’t go to the hospital. Mor was the only person I could think of who would be discreet.”

Emerie snorted. “And how’d that go down with Nesta?”

“I wouldn’t know. Badly, I suspect. She’s barely said a word since we got her in the car.”

A lull followed his words and Cassian gave Emerie the time she needed to ask what he knew she’d been wondering the moment he’d disclosed what had happened. “D’you think Tomas knew she was there?”

“Didn’t seem like it. Nesta didn’t seem to think so, either. He was only a few tables ahead of her and didn’t turn round the entire time.”

Emerie loosed a relieved breath. “Well, that’s something at least. Tomas is a manipulative, masochistic misogynist, but he’s stayed away since the restraining order. He doesn’t even live in town anymore.”

Cassian swallowed. He hadn’t known that, but he just said, “Right.”

“I can come and get Nes tomorrow. She can stay with me for a few days, but I don’t land until ten tomorrow morning—”

“I’m not trying to get rid of her—”

Emerie snorted, a faint playfulness ghosting back into her personality. “I know that, you oaf.”

But Cassian ignored her jest. “I just thought she’d be more comfortable with you. She startles every time I have wake her and she wouldn’t let me try Gwyn—”

“—because of her exam tomorrow,” Emerie finished. 

“Right,” Cassian said again.

There was a pause 

“You ok, Cass?”

“Besides making everything worse, you mean?”

Emerie barked a laugh. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“She was bleeding from the head, Emerie. She thought I was going to hit her—”

And I teach self defence for a living. Cassian wanted to finish. He, of all people, should have know better. He’d witnessed the way his mother suffered. Had watched it all.

“Well, Tomas did - hit her, I mean.” 

“She told me.”

There was a pause as the reality of it sank in all over again. Cassian had known Tomas had beaten Nesta, of course he had, but today had made the truth of it even more harrowing - something he hadn’t thought possible. 

When Emerie continued, her voice rang with the confidence that came with delivering an unvarnished truth, “If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else, Cassian, trust me. I’ve seen Nesta after she’s had an encounter with Tomas. Everything becomes a threat, even things that don’t exist. Once, Gwyn took Nesta by surprise as she came out the bathroom and Nesta threw her mobile at Gwyn’s head.”

“I—” Cassian began but he broke off, not sure how to continue. Finally, he found his voice, “Will you tell Nesta you’ll be coming or shall I?”

“I’ll tell her, but I’d mention it as well when you can. Her memory gets patchy when she’s been through something like this - best to repeat it until you know it’s sunk in.”

“Ok.”

As if sensing Cassian’s discomfort, Emerie added candidly, “Look, what Nesta needs right now is not to be in an empty apartment - which you have covered. If she wants to stay with you when she wakes up rather than go back to her apartment - which I doubt is going to be a no, by the way - let her stay. And whatever you do, try not to scare her. No creeping up on her, ok?”

“Ok,” Cassian repeated. And then again, as if he reassuring himself. “Ok.”

“Good,” Emerie said. “See you tomorrow, Cass.” 

So, with a pep talk tight under his belt, Cassian hung up and returned to the apartment. 

Sat down in front of his laptop, not seeing, not doing and waited. 

***

When Nesta finally emerged from Cassian’s bedroom, it was late. Cassian was still sat at the table staring mindlessly at the rota on the screen, which remained unconquered.

At first, Nesta was so quiet he didn’t notice her. But then there was a movement in the corner of his eye, a whisper and sigh of fabric and then Cassian only saw her.

It was a cruel irony, Cassian thought, that he had been waiting for Nesta to emerge this entire time. But now she was standing in the doorway that connected his bedroom to the living room, her hair mussed and pillow creases imprinted into her cheek, Cassian found that he wasn’t prepared at all.

It took Cassian a moment to recover his voice. And when he did, it came across too rough, too abrasive from lack of use.

“Hey.” He caught his wince a fraction too late, but he cleared his throat gently in a bid to disguise it. “How are you feeling?”

Nesta swayed a little in response, throwing out a hand to right herself against the doorjamb just in time. Cassian did his best to remember Emerie’s parting instruction: slow, purposeful movements. 

Essentially, under no circumstance was he to jump across the room to Nesta’s aid only to startle her all over again.

What Cassian really wanted to do was walk over to her. Raise his fingers to her face, touch her skin, check she was actually there, blood pulsing slowly through her body, warming her skin, rather than a spectral manifestation.

Scrounging up every inch of his willpower, Cassian remained seated. Watched her instead and tried not just to conjure the illusion of calm but feel it too — a place of safety where Nesta could come back to herself. 

“I feel like I’ve been asleep a long time,” Nesta replied hoarsely - distantly. Evading his gaze, she cast a look to the dark windows, to the night sky and the grey blanket of clouds blotting out the stars. “Can I use—”

“The bathroom?” Cassian interjected smoothly. “Towards the front door on the left.”

Cassian tracked her every step as she made her way up the hall. Usually, Nesta floated in a way that was purposefully untouchable. But now, she seemed untethered and unstable, as if she didn’t have control of her body.

It was a while until Nesta emerged again. In that time, Cassian tried to suppress his worry by busying himself in the kitchen. 

The hot water was running when he finally heard the lock turn, the door creak open. 

Purposefully, Cassian did not turn. Instead, he carried on with what he was doing. Plunged his hands into the suds in the sink and began to wash the dishes, purposefully ensuring they clinked softly together so Nesta could guess his location. 

“What time is it?” 

Nesta’s voice emerged from somewhere behind him. Slowly, Cassian turned his head to glance over his shoulder and there she was, the kitchen counter safely between them, her skin as cool as the moonlight lancing through the window. 

“Just gone midnight.”

This elicited a blink and a tiny frown that Nesta kneaded with the crook of a finger before retracting it with a wince. “I didn’t realise I’d slept that long.”

She didn’t elaborate but Cassian read it for what it was: an apology for what she viewed as imposing. “It’s good. You clearly needed it.”

Unhurriedly, Cassian reached for a dishcloth to dry his hands. When he turned to look at Nesta properly, he was careful to modulate the speed of his movements. 

What he was not expecting, was for everything to shatter. But it did. The instant their gaze connected and Cassian saw the vacancy in her eyes, whatever he and Nesta had been trying to be, broke away, unravelling until it was nothing.

It felt like a hand was fisting at Cassian’s intestines, twisting tighter and tighter as they continued to look at one another.

And the more they looked, the more Cassian knew with devastating surety, that this was not their time.

Nesta didn’t need a love interest. What she needed was support. For the people around her not to terrify her so much that she ended up causing herself further harm. 

Cassian swallowed in a bid to rid himself of the lump in his throat. 

Between them, the silence stretched, almost mesmeric in its intensity. 

There was so much Cassian wanted to say, but he realised that what he really needed to do was to not say anything of consequence at all.

The only thing that mattered was that Nesta was going to be ok. That she was here and breathing. And hopefully, in time, she would heal again. 

And in the meantime, Cassian would be here if she needed him. 

It took everything in Cassian to feign casual. It felt like shards of glass had taken up residence in his throat, cutting every time as he spoke. “Want some chai?”

It was not what Nesta had been expecting him to say and Cassian had known that. The surprise of it dragged her back to him, the smallest of lights flickered faintly in the depths of her eyes, cracking through the trauma. “Chai?”

Cassian nodded to the saucepan atop the stove. “I made a fresh batch earlier. Thought you might want some when you woke up.”

Nesta’s eyes followed him as he slowly went through the motions of pouring two cups, using a sieve to catch the cinnamon sticks, the star anise, the cloves. 

When he was done, Cassian slid the mug across the counter to her, careful to keep his distance. 

Together, they drank. Neither of them broke the spell of silence between them, not until Nesta’s mug had been drained to the dregs. 

Then, Cassian dared to ask, “Are you hungry?”

An answering grimace. 

Cassian made the corner of his mouth tug up into a smile. “No appetite of a baby dinosaur today, then?”

No reaction — nothing. Nesta just watched him, the grimace fading away until her expression was yet again vacant. 

“You look like you could still use some sleep,” Cassian told her carefully. “Why don’t you go back to bed.”

The alarm that fissured through Nesta’s expression took Cassian by surprise. Her gaze snapped to his and every muscle in her body pulled taut. Suddenly, miraculously, and to his surprise, Nesta was fully present. “Where will you be?”

“The couch pulls out.”

The tension that had come so suddenly to Nesta’s shoulders unspooled slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

Cassian pretended he hadn’t detected her unease. Was she worried that he’d leave or that he’d be around the apartment whilst she slept? Did he make her uncomfortable? Did she think he’d insist on sleeping in his bed with her?

Not for the first time, Cassian felt horribly out of depth. But he tried to continue as normal, tried to  get her to engage with him. “Want something comfy to wear?”

Nesta fisted the sleeves of her jumper. 

“There are t-shirts in the second drawer down if you do,” Cassian continued. “Toiletries are in the cabinet beneath the bathroom sink or the one above it - a new toothbrush, toothpaste. Take what you need, ok?”

Later - eventually - when Cassian slept, there was no escaping the day. He relived it all - yet another awful nightmare. Nesta’s bloodless face, her vice-like grip on his fingers. The sound her body made as she struck the wall. Her wide, terrified eyes. The blood glistening on her fingers. 

When Cassian woke the next morning, he didn’t need a moment to remember why he was sleeping on the pull out couch. 

And he certainly didn’t need to remind himself that the secret hope he’d been harbouring, the foolish optimism that he and Nesta might still be something, had been thoroughly stamped out. 

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @a-trifling-matter @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side

[musicalmoritz]

..6,7,10, and 25 of TBHK

(Bestie I wanna hear AAALL the takes ngl)

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

I’m going to be extremely biased here and not hold back, Kou and Nene shippers. I have nothing against the ship itself but the way the shippers vehemently deny Kou’s attraction to men (which they don’t have to do bcuz Kou also likes women) and Mitsukou’s canon status really irritates me. A couple of them have also commented abt their ship on my Aoi x Nene posts which bugs me bcuz like,,,why mention a straight ship on a lesbian ship post?? And honorable mention, people who hate Hanako x Nene bcuz of the SA and then proceed to ship Hanako with Kou…as though Hanako doesn’t also make Kou uncomfortable by bringing up perverted things around him. They promote it as an healthier alternative but if they hate HanaNene bcuz of the SA then shouldn’t they not want Hanako to be with anyone at all??? He is the problem in that situation. Oh and Aoi x Akane shippers who write off Aoinene have just about gotten on my last nerve 

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Hmmmm I don’t actually hate characters that often, and when I do it’s usually because of their canon behavior as opposed to the fans. But I will say Nakahara defenders made me hate him 10x more than I already did. I like to make him kind of a supervillain in my Aoinene fics because I think it’s funny and also because those specific fans who INSIST he’s a good character really piss me off. His only personality trait is being a misogynist, why do you want to defend that so badly??? I could understand if he had even a smidgen of depth but why is that the hill you choose to die on??? I guess some people like his character design but ahhhhh idk, we really don’t need to be doing this much over a blank slate male character

10. worst part of fanon

The homophobic Teru headcanon and the people who genuinely believe it’s in-character for him. It’s such a wild mischaracterization, especially when we see him canonically getting along with his male admirers. Also people who depict Kou as being a total green flag with no faults, it literally removes everything I love about him. And ofc the people who write Tsukasa as nothing more than an abuser. Does Teru x Kou existing count for this section?? Because that also makes me gag, especially when people insist that Teru is weird with Kou in canon

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

The people who won’t shut up about how bad the anime is. Guys, we get it. They cut large chunks out and adapted things weirdly. Boohoo. Try being a Bungou Stray Dogs fan

(In all seriousness tho there are a lot of things I enjoy about the anime)

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

  Story Masterlist

Chapter 9

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: thoughts about self-harm (biting thumb again), accidental self-injury(? + biting inside of lip which causes it to bleed), thoughts about implied murder, near panic attack, implied depression, slight blood, small/slight themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight themes of misogyny/some toxic behavior from Reader's family, please tell me if I missed any.

Nsfw warnings: OKAY, I honestly think Maria, if she becomes fond of a daughter-in-law, would absolutely push for grandchildren and take things into her own hands unless someone (Sierra) tries really hard to convince her otherwise. I’m really sorry for writing her as a creep but this will be the last time (either completely or for a very long time) I’ll write her like this. Anyway: suggestive, throwback to their 1st night, gifting of lingerie and aphrodisiac by Maria (again will not write her like this either completely or a long time, I tried rewriting this chapter so fucking much but this is what I settled on because it felt the most natural to me.) pushing for grandchildren, Maria somehow got the Reader’s measurements, please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

===

‘Dear father and mother, 

I am doing well so far. The food is delicious and the clothes are comfortable, made from the finest fabrics. I haven’t personally spoken to my father-in-law yet, but I’m going to meet him for dinner tomorrow at the time of writing this. The threat My husband is different from what I expected. Too nice. He’s not as brutal as others described him. It was surprising. But he’s a pervert and I almost hit him out of frustration and rejected his sexual advances like any sane person would. I know that you’ll say I should have let it happen, mother, but it hurt so bad I don’t think he’ll ever fit! Speaking of those vulgar activities, you lied - he wasn’t flustered in the slightest until I started crying. Can you believe that? He’s a creep! But hopefully he doesn’t kill or torture me he’ll continue to treat me nicely.

Of course, as his wife I’ll do my best to support him in fear of him or Lant killing me otherwise in every field to the best of my abilities. Just how you forced taught me.

I have talked to a few in-laws, including my mother-in-law. I heard that you drank with her, mother. She's very  lively and has a sadistic unique personality. She’s very sweet to me. I have also met the fourth wife, Sierra. She’s lovely, I think you’ll also get along with her, mother. 

I hope that the two of you are faring well. The same goes for Zac and Elena, of course. Speaking of which, how has Zac’s studies been? He’s not skipping them again, is he or planning something dangerous like that stupid but well-meant plan he informed you, father, about? Yes, I overheard everything. He is nothing but a boy - where did he even get those outrageous ideas from and why didn’t you tell me?

Is Elena doing well in her pregnancy? I know she moved out before me, but I’m still concerned about her and the baby. And Albert, he’s taking care of her, right? 

I’m not sure what else to write, so I’ll just leave it here. Please take care of yourselves. The same goes for my brother and sister.

Your daughter, (Name)’

“... I ended up writing what I really think… I need to rewrite this… again.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you crumble the letter in your hands. This was your fifth try, and while each one became less hostile and more casual, you weren't satisfied with any of the rough drafts to turn into a final draft. 

If you weren’t married to Dion, into this family, would writing to them be easier? You shake your head. No point in having these useless thoughts. Especially as Hana comes in with a knock and your permission, rolling in your lunch. 

 You can’t help but feel awful at the sight - it was food prepared by Agriche staff for an Agriche family member. Biting down a frown, you try to pretend your last name was still your maiden one.

In the end, you ended up going with Hana’s suggestion - basically saying that your husband fucked you too hard and rough last night and you needed to recover. Thanks to that, you didn’t have to change into the scarlet dress she picked out either - it was decided to be saved for the dinner you’ll have with both your husband and father-in-law tomorrow. 

You already asked Hana for indigestion medicine for tomorrow. 

“Thank you, Hana,” you put your stationary away and picked up the crumbled balls of paper that were failed attempts. She eyes you curiously but doesn’t comment on it. Instead she readies your lunch, placing the plates onto the table. 

The thought of eating makes you sick. You could barely hold down breakfast - could you hold down lunch? Or would your body give up immediately and reject the food? 

Warily looking at it, you notice two prettily wrapped up boxes - one pink with light red polka dots, the bow purple in color. The second box, a flatter one, had red wrapping paper with a tiny black hearts pattern, with the bow also black. Your heart speeds up as your gut twists painfully. If they were meant for you, they contain nothing well meant nor innocent.

“Oh, right,” Hana starts before handing both ‘presents’ to your unwelcoming arms, “Lady Maria sent these to you. I don’t know what they are, unfortunately.” With a grave look on your face you shakily thank her, a pained and forced smile stretching your lips. 

Maria sent these… oh boy, I sure do wonder what they are… 

“Later today, please help me pick out a gift for her. It’s only right that I repay the favor, especially since she’s my mother-in-law.” Placing them down next to your feet, you ignore the urge to kick them far, far away from you. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of the boxes. It’s hard to focus on your food, picking up your fork and knife as you cut into the grilled fish. 

It’s hard to chew, accidentally biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s hard to drink the water as it threatens to choke you. It’s hard to not wince at the sharp sounds of cutlery against the plate as you imagine your head being chopped off like nothing. 

It’s hard to breathe. 

How much longer until you go crazy?

By the time you finish your meal, you’re sweating buckets. You hate it here. You want to go home -

“My lady, are you alright?” Hana’s voice drags you out from your thoughts, flicking your eyes to meet hers. She’s picking up the silverware and placing it back onto the tray, but quickly takes a clean napkin from it and hands it to you. You take it with shaky hands, doing your best not to drop it. Thankfully your brain didn’t lag for too long for you to realize it was for your sweat.

You pat down your temples with the white cloth.

“T-thank you… v-very much, Ha-Hana.” Why is your voice so shaky? Why are you stuttering? Hell, why are you sweating?

You already had one panic attack - you don’t need another one. Your right thumb throbs at the memory and your teeth want to clamp down on it. The bandages suddenly feel too tight around the digit and you want to rip it off so you could dig your teeth into it. You bite your lip, only worsening the newly formed wound. The taste of your own blood spreads throughout your mouth again. 

You need to stop. 

Your attention switches to Hana, the woman staring at you uncertainly. It wasn’t necessarily out of concern but rather confusion - just how was she supposed to comfort her master? …you’re probably putting her in a rough spot. 

…right. I just need to accept my new reality… but today is not going to be that day.

Taking in a deep breath, you force your nerves to settle down - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. The sun is warm, the birds are lively, the bed is comfortable, your husband is gone - 

This isn’t the first time, and clearly it won’t be the last. 

Quickly patting your bottom lip with the napkin, you hope her keen eyes miss the splatter of red on the white fabric.

“...thank you for bringing the food, Hana.” You’re not fully composed, not fully right of mind, but as the saying goes: fake it until you make it. You did it once, you managed to do it throughout the duration of the engagement, during the wedding despite feeling horrible, you did it while consummating your marriage despite being ripped open by Dion, you did it while at the tea party with Maria and Sierra, you did it last night when you told him off.

You did it back then, too. 

Force yourself to smile now. Tilt your head innocently. Act happy. Act happy. 

“I enjoyed it. Please give my thanks to the chief.” Your smile isn’t bright as the sun and slightly wavers. Your eyes aren’t shining brightly like stars, instead seeing past her. Your mind isn’t calm as you recall the brutality of this family that was shown and described in the story. 

Fake it until you make it. 

Yes, you think. Maybe you will have a conversation with Roxana. 

- - -

Hana left an hour ago yet you haven’t moved from your spot. No, instead you’re staring intensely at the presents in front of you on the table. They’re pretty, a bit childish looking. But knowing Maria… 

“...is it a trap…?” Carefully, you pick up the stereo typical present box and lightly shake it; it rattles. “Sounds a bit heavy… like a box within a box.” Curiosity gets the better of you and you gingerly untie the purple bow before ripping the wrapping paper. Despite the damn thing nearly sending you into another panic episode, it was satisfying to unwrap. 

A slightly smaller box is what you see once you manage to open the outer one. It was black and had a fancy red bow. Still a good size not to be something small. Unless it was a perfume. Breathing in deeply, you undo the ribbon and take off the lid. 

You’re met with a glass container roughly the size of your hand. Your heart drops at the yellow liquid inside. 

It looks exactly like the aphrodisiac your mother-in-law gave Roxana in the manhwa. 

“...what in the actual fuck… she’s basically telling, no, begging me to fuck her son… haha!” Your head rolls back as laughter overtakes you and shoulders violently shake. “I knew she was crazy, but fuck, how morally corrupt is this woman?” 

Instead of throwing it across the room like you should, you place it down on the table. You would have slammed it down if there wasn’t a chance that just smelling it could cause your body to heat up and become needy for a thing - a person - you don’t even want. 

“I’m scared to open up the other ‘present’...” in spite of that you pull at the black bow and unwrap it. You shake it - sounds like something soft. Like clothes. 

Oh. 

Oh no, no, no, no, no no -

“She didn’t. No fucking way… maybe it’s a sweater. Or a shawl. Gloves?” 

Trembling fingers take the lid off, a pink ribbon undone easily. This time, you throw the box to the floor after seeing what it held. 

A sheer black babydoll lingerie set. 

“Maria Agriche… you fucking creep…,” without another thought you shut the lid on it and shoved it into one of your drawers on your side of the dresser. Out of sight, out of mind you chant in your head, slamming the drawer shut. Your cheeks feel warm as both embarrassment and disgust fill your head and chest. 

… even if you wanted to sleep with him… or if you were in a healthy marriage with someone you love…

“...I could never wear that… it’s too revealing, too embarrassing.” Even in your old world you never wore such things. Not because you viewed them as dirty or slutty, but because they don’t suit you. Besides, putting in so much effort just for it to be taken off…?

‘I’m only going to ask once - would you rather keep your clothes on or off?’ 

“MMMMFFFF!!” Throwing yourself onto the bed at the memory, scream muffled by the pillow, you mentally curse both son and mother. The son because he made your first time so horrible you’re mentally scarred and the mother because she’s a creep. More so than her own fucking son. 

A few minutes later you manage to collect yourself somewhat. Dreadfully you go to the dresser to pull out the offending clothing. You don’t plan on putting it on or to hold it over your clothes to get a vague idea of it either. Just to get a better look at it. 

Opening it and picking up the article of clothing, you examine it; pretty lace details on the hem and breast cups, a flower pattern. It was soft as silk - clearly made from expensive materials. The straps were thin but they didn't feel too rough or stiff. Probably comfortable on the shoulders. 

Not like you would know - you never tried anything like this on. 

Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to see where it ends by holding it over your clothes; it barely brushes past mid thigh. A… awful curiosity forms in your head - how… would you look, in it? No. Before the question could develop more, you’re shaking your head as you fold it.

When you go to put it back you notice an envelope and panties in the box. First, you pick up the lacy underwear, frowning as you realize that somehow, someway Maria had gotten your fucking measurements. Did your mother also tell the crazed woman your three sizes… “No, she wouldn’t. Even if she was drunk, she wouldn’t tell anyone such private details.” 

That only makes it worse. 

Carelessly dropping it into the box you grab the letter, opening it after a moment of hesitation. It takes even longer to unfold the letter. And even longer to actually read it, only for horror to come across your face and soak your heart. 

‘Sierra told me it may come across as inappropriate to send such things to you… but I’m just so excited for grandchildren! Oh, but don’t feel pressured into wearing or drinking those things tonight. The aphrodisiac lasts a rather long time, so please do be careful. Considering it’s Dion, I thought you might need some… help whenever you decide to lay with him.

- Maria’ 

“No. Never.” 

Shoving everything back in, you shut the drawer close, making sure to hide the items underneath some layers of your… underwear…

You give up. 

“Ahh, why and how did I stumbled into the scene…” You turn around only to notice the yellow liquid contained in the glass bottle. Right. You forgot about that. “Maybe I should just pour it out…”

Not once did you realize nor notice how all the fear and fright left your body and mind, instead leaving caution and annoyance in its wake. 

- - -

Your husband returned at midnight, small amounts of blood splattered on his left cheek. When you look up from your book to greet him you notice that in the candlelight his eye bags seem darker. Deeper. 

His near sickly pale skin in the soft eerie glow of the candlelight makes him appear as a ghost and not a man. Your fingers curl into the book cover as you lower it into your lap mindlessly.

“...welcome…back.” Your body starts to quiver and your heart beats loud enough you could hear and feel it once you meet his eyes. Quickly scanning his person you notice he’s wearing the same uniform he wore in the manhwa: 

Black shirt with red rimmed shoulder pads that have an edgy skull engraved on top, the shirt long enough to reach below his knees and splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt at the waist. If he were to turn around you would see the family crest proudly engraved into the fabric. Blank pants that disappear into nearly knee-height boots with long, tied laces. 

The last time you’ve seen him in that uniform was the first time you met him, bored expression plastered on his face as Lant introduced him with a smug smile on that disgusting face of his. All he did was shake your hand as you stood still with prayers to a God who held no love for you. With your father glancing your way every minute as you were left in some corner with your then fiance to hold a conversation that never happened. When he didn’t spare so much as a glance at you, instead staring off into space as you couldn’t take your eyes off your lap. 

Wait. 

No. 

Maybe back then, you were too deep in your thoughts to notice that unnerving stare. 

The same one he has now - looking at you as though you were his prey, scarlet eyes glowing in the candlelight, like you belonged to him and he would never change that fact. That he would never let you change it, either. 

It’s starting to settle in, the realization - he’s been looking at you like that this entire time.

“Wife.” 

The word mixed with his deep sleepy voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard - it makes your ears bleed and eye twitch as you hold back the grimace of how he addresses you. He only wants you because you’re a normal person.

The moment you become insane he’ll let you go. 

That’s the only explanation. It has to be. That’s the only explanation your brain could come up with and accept. 

You’re too scared to bring up the night before yesterday. Beads of sweat slowly roll down your temples and breathing shallow as Dion walks towards the bed, heavy boots echoing. Time stops as your heart drops once he reaches the bed, reaches you and without a single word, he grabs your right wrist and - 

“What happened here?”

Oh. You forgot about your bandaged thumb.  

[fandomgirlz01]

Somewhere Out There

Paul {TLB} X Reader

Imagine on fandom instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Stand Alone Fic (has potential for more in the future though... 😉)

Rating: R for some mature themes such as smoking as well you know the description of a vampire losing it and going absolutely raving mad, like so mad all he sees is red 😉

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,867

Post Date & Time: November 1st 2024 at 12:16AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here.

Summary: Ever since all the vampires have known they and humans alike have a soulmate. The only member of the lost boys who hasn’t found his other half is Paul, but what happens when he does actually find them? 

PSA from Faith: This is the first time I am writing for a character from The Lost Boys. I just love both Paul and David as well as Dwayne and Marko. Yet I also love Mike so you might see more of this fandom down the line… maybe. I have loved some of the works that I have read for this fandom, however I did notice there’s not very many where it’s not just centered on one of the boys specifically so I thought I’d give them (especially my favorites) a little attention. I did try to keep some canon and I also went non canon so before any of you guys come at me for it not being all accurate, this is just how I foresaw the boys okay? By the way you do NOT need to have seen the movie to read this fic. Yes it’s based off of the characters, but it will be spoiler free if you choose to watch the movie that is completely up to you guys. That being said I have NEVER written a soulmate AU before so if this isn’t 100% right, I’m sorry, but again this is just how I wanted to depict it all and I just really wanted to try something newish. Thank you and please enjoy the story! 

Song that goes with fic:

Many say Santa Carla has its deep dark secrets hidden away in the shadows, and only some know what those secrets are. Just like every night the boardwalk is lit up; couples walk under the moonlight none the wiser to what lurks in the night, others play games and go into the stores or on rides. Shouts of cheer and fright are all surrounding while the vampires make their usual meander all over the boardwalk, senses sharp yet vigilant as they look for anything they can do for a bit of amusement or maybe even find some dinner. 

Tonight, however, David notices that Paul seems to wander back behind them, seemingly feeling down which is unusual for the other blond vampire. Paul kicks at the dirt as he finds himself locked in his thoughts once more, thinking about her and what she might just be like. David laughs at something Marko said before telling the baby of the group (a nickname given to him by all the boys because that’s just what Marko is, the baby who everyone wants to protect, the happy-go-lucky spirit of the group and most innocent looking one) to keep going and he’ll catch up to him soon. Marko agrees before skipping off to walk and talk with Dwayne. David watches his brothers for a moment before turning around. He comes up beside Paul and pats him on the back, knowing just what Paul is thinking about. 

Ever since the vampires knew they each had a soulmate, all that mattered was when they’d find each other. The only one of the group who hadn’t found his soulmate yet was Paul, and sometimes he’d get discouraged when thinking of it all. When he did, he’d leave the mind link so his brothers didn’t have to hear his incessant inner thoughts, but David knew. He always knows. 

“You’ll find her, Paul. I know you will. It’s only a matter of time,” David tells his brother as he pulls him into his side. 

“Yeah, but it’s been so long, David. You’ve all found yours. What if I’m not meant to have one?” Paul asks, discouraged once more and David holds back the sigh he wants to let out at having had this conversation a million times before. 

“Listen, Paul. I know it feels that way. I used to feel that way before I met Nyra, Dwayne felt that way before meeting Amalie, and Marko felt that way before meeting sweet Charlotte. We’ve all felt that way at one point or another. It’ll pass,” David promises as he squeezes his brother’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know, David. It’s been a lot longer for me…” Paul again denies and David clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. 

“Well, you still have that song title written on your wrist, don’t you?” David asks.

“And you still see all colors, right?” Marko asks as he pops up behind the two, always the one to pop up at random times. 

“Yeah. I still have both…” Paul mutters as he holds up his wrist, showing the song title Somewhere Out There, a song by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram that he knows well. 

“See, if you didn’t see color anymore or the song had faded, that’d mean she was dead. The fact you have both is a good thing,” Marko cheerily adds on, slapping him softly on the back and Paul only sighs. 

“What if she doesn’t have it? I mean, I’m dead myself,” Paul adds on and David shakes his head, laughing. 

“I’ve told you, Paul. I was dead and I still had it all, still do,” David informs him as he thinks of his Nyra and Marko hums in agreement. 

“And technically you're not dead, you're undead! Huge difference, buddy,” Marko very pointedly yet happily adds.

“I don’t think being a vampire changes the soulmate laws. I think you’d have to be dead dead, like in the ground dead for that,” Dwayne adds with a shrug as he now jumps in to help comfort his brother. 

Nobody really knows all the details about soulmates and the way it works. For centuries, they’ve all just known that it’s a powerful thing that only comes from the universe. People have done studies, but even then they’ve only learned the basics, so people and vampires just go with it, continuously being pulled together. 

“Who knows! Maybe you’ll find her tonight!” Marko again happily adds on, not knowing how right he might just be. 

“Yeah… maybe…” Paul sighs out, choosing to just agree with them to change the subject. 

Each of them always found their other half and David was sure it’d happen for Paul at some point if not sooner than later. Turns out David, Marko and Dwayne were right because as the night went on, they continued to goof off on the boardwalk for a few more hours before suddenly Paul felt different. He couldn’t put a finger on why he felt lighter all of a sudden. He thought for a moment maybe it was the new strain they’d all smoked before the night started, it felt like being high, but at the same time it didn’t feel like the high he was used to. 

“Do you guys smell that amazing smell?” he asks, perking up as they ride on the carousel again for the millionth time. 

“No. What is it, Paul?” David asks, concern written all over his face until he realizes what’s going on. 

“It smells sweet and fresh. Like… like…” Paul struggles to describe the smell that just hit him. 

“Like vanilla and cinnamon mixed together. Like… home…” Paul finally mutters as his confusion grows more and more. 

“Paul. Follow the scent. Let your nose guide you,” David commands his brother with a growing smile that he shares with the other boys, who catch onto what’s going on. 

“What? Me? Why? I suck at catching dinner,” Paul asks, knowing he definitely isn’t the best hunter of the group. More often than not, somehow Paul would lose his prey and Marko is the first to snicker. 

“That isn’t dinner you're smelling, Paulie my boy,” David tells him, his own grin growing in happiness for his brother. 

“What is it then?” Paul asks, confused and Marko face palms. 

“Dude. Just follow it and maybe find out!” Marko shouts as he pulls his hand away from his face and Paul shrugs. 

“Okay. What could it hurt?” he asks nobody in particular before doing just as his brothers had said. 

He follows the scent, electricity seeming to flow through him, making his toes and fingers tingle the more he moves toward it. The scent grows more and more intoxicating, making him feel more primal than ever before. The sweet smell only calls to him like a siren's call, making his whole body seem to light up. 

He continues to follow it, his brothers all flanking him, egging him to keep following it as they protect him while he’s in his unusual focus. The closer he gets to the alluring scent, the thicker it gets in the air. His blood boils though his veins which if he was not so focused, he would have thought that was weird for a vampire, but he could care less at the moment. He continues to follow the scent like he’s a compass needle, looking for its true north until he comes to a stop in front of the music store. He stands there frozen as he looks on at one of the workers, a girl at the counter talking with a customer as she rings them up. 

“Welp, Paul, my boy. I’d say you just found yourself your soulmate,” David happily comments as they all watch you from the large opening in the side of the building. 

Paul doesn’t answer as he watches you in awe and without knowing it, Paul’s ears activate his vampire hearing so he can hear you. He smiles to himself as the first thing he hears is the music you have playing on the boom box behind you: Somewhere Out There. Then he’s smiling wider as he overhears your conversation, your voice a brand new melody he never wants to forget. 

“That’ll be eight dollars, buddy,” you tell the kid who reaches into his pocket. 

“Oh. Linda Ronstadt. I love her work,” the kid tells you as he hands you the money and you smile warmly at him. 

“I love her too, but this is my favorite song. You wanna know why?” You ask the kid, putting the ten dollars he gave you into the register and without a doubt Paul knows exactly what you’re gonna say. 

“It’s mine and my soulmate's song, see,” you happily tell the kid after he nods and you hold out your wrist. 

“Wow! You and your soulmate must really be meant for one another then,” the kid tells you and you grin even more as you go back to getting his change. 

“Here's your two dollars back. Have fun listening to that tape,” you tell him as you reach out and hand him his money. 

Meanwhile, Paul still stands frozen, just staring at you in awe. His brothers all stand around him, smirking as they watch the lovesick look that he’s had to watch on all their faces wash over his own face now. 

“Well, aren’t you going to go over and say hi…?” Marko asks, nudging Paul a little bit, but again Paul doesn’t speak back, so entranced with watching you. 

You watch the little boy leave until he walks around the corner and then feel someone’s eyes on you, so you look around until your eyes land on Paul. The two of you make eye contact and stare at one another for a few minutes before he seemingly snaps out of the moment and walks away looking sad. You don’t know why (well actually that’s a lie, you have an inkling as to why, but you shrug it off) but you feel sad that he seems sad and wish you could just give him a hug. With a shake of your head, you decide to leave it be seeing as he was with a group of what seemed to be friends that could comfort him and just go back to work. 

“Paul?” David asks as Paul starts to hastily walk away, moving faster and faster by the minute, heading for his bike and his brothers follow after him in confusion. 

“Paul? What’s wrong? That’s your soulmate, buddy. You gotta go say hi!” Marko tries but Paul shakes his head, seemingly angry now. 

“No, I don’t,” he almost practically seeths out before kicking his kick stand up and starting his bike up. 

The three brothers watch on in confusion as he rides off and once he’s gone, Marko turns to David. David stands there with arms crossed, trying to figure out what would have spooked him. 

“You’d think he would have been happy. He’s been waiting for this moment for centuries…” Marko comments in utter disbelief and confusion. 

“You would think so,” Dwayne comments next, breaking David out of his thoughts. 

“Let’s go find him,” David commands before getting onto his bike with the others following suit and getting onto their own bikes. 

Together they all ride out to the cliff side where they know Paul goes when he wants some peace and quiet. Sure enough, they find him there sitting on his bike and smoking another rolled cigarette with his head low. 

“Paul?” David asks in an attentive tone, which is unusual for the vampire who’s normally commanding and stern.

No matter how cold, commanding and stern as he can seem or be, he still cares for his brothers, all three of them. David, Marko and Dwayne slowly get closer to him, if anyone was watching them right now, they would be surprised to see vampires of all creatures being soft on one another, but again Paul is their brother. They found each other and became family and as David likes to say, family comes first. 

“Paul, what’s wrong?” Marko softly asks again out of character.

“What’s wrong? Ha! What’s wrong?!” Paul retorts in what sounds like disbelief, rolling his eyes at the question. 

“She’s human! I can’t go near her. I’ll hurt her and I could never ask her to become one of us and… and…” Paul trails off, taking a gulp as he now tries to hold his tears back. 

“It’d ruin her beauty, man…” Paul sadly mutters, shaking his head in anger. 

“And to ask her to give up her life. Just to be with me. I can’t… I won’t…” Paul chokes on his words before lowering his head, refusing to look at his brothers. 

“Paul. How do you know that isn’t what she’d want? You gotta at least try to fight for her,” Marko comments with a frown, sad for his brother. 

“I don’t care if that’s what she’d want, Marko! She’s my soulmate! It’s my job to protect her! How do I do that the way I am?! Huh?!” he shouts in his brother's face, anger running through him as he heaves while Marko takes a step back. 

“How do I protect her from myself, huh, Marko?? Tell me that one,” he continues to let his anger take over before he sighs, turning around. 

“But if you love her that much already, then you couldn’t hurt her. You’re only hurting yourself by not reaching out to her,” Marko continues to try and convince Paul, who scoffs again, shaking his head as he flicks his joint away. 

“No. I’m protecting her. My pain is a small price compared to if she were to be hurt,” Paul mutters softly before he shrugs halfheartedly. 

“I’ll meet you guys back home at the cave,” Paul softly promises before kicking his kick stand up and starting the bike back up. 

“Dude needs to calm the heck down,” Marko comments as they all watch him drive away. 

“He’s just blinded by the shock of her being human. He’ll come around eventually. Paul always does, he likes to stew in his thoughts, ya know,” Dwayne comments back and Marko laughs in agreement. 

“Yeah. For being the wild carefree guy he is, he definitely is too broody sometimes. And people say you're the broody one,” Marko adds on with a roll of his eyes and Dwayne nods in agreement, chuckling along. 

“Hey. I’m most definitely the broody one. Paul is the crackhead. He smokes more than any of us…” Dwayne practically complains, making Marko laugh some more. 

“Awe, jealous that your place will be taken?” Marko taunts and Dwayne crosses his arms across his chest. 

“At least I don’t get called the baby…” Dwayne argues back with a smirk when Marko shyly grins, proving his point. 

“I actually don’t mind it…” Marko replies with a shrug and Dwayne shakes his head at him. 

“Of course you don’t,” Dwayne chuckles out and David reaches up to grab onto both of their shoulders, giving a light squeeze. 

“Okay. Okay. That’s enough, you two. Come on,  We’ll just leave him be for now. He’ll reach out though the link should he need us. For now, let’s go find dinner for ourselves,” David commands with a roll of his eyes at their play fighting. He still worries for Paul, but he knows he just needs time to come to terms with everything. 

“You got it, big D,” Marko jokes and Dwayne holds back the laugh he wants to let out at David’s annoyed look. 

This is how it always was with the brothers. Dwayne is definitely more silent and broody when others are around and Marko is the innocent curious one. David is leader and commander while Paul is the crackhead that will jump to do anything, yet Paul has always been the most in touch with his emotions, hence why he smokes. 

Meanwhile, as his brothers go on the hunt for dinner, Paul finds himself back at the boardwalk and sits on the beach, just watching the waves. He can still smell that intoxicating scent that he now knows is all you, so very strong that it makes him want more and more of it. He keeps his eyes closed, listening to you talk to all kinds of different customers that come and go. Soon before he knows it, you're closing up shop, saying goodbye to your coworker that stands with you as you pull down the door and lock it up tight. It’s only then he realizes all the loudness and craziness that normally surrounds the boardwalk is now quiet. 

He watches as you turn and you pull your headphones that had been resting around your neck up to your ears. He then starts to follow you, but stays in the shadows just watching over you. At first you look around like you're weary of something or someone being around, but you shrug nonchalantly and continue to walk. He watches over you with pure adoration rolling off of him, yet he also stays vigilant in case someone or something were to harm you. However if anyone saw the way he follows you, they’d probably say he follows like a lost puppy.

Finally after a long walk down the beach, you walk up the stairs to a door and open it before heading inside which makes him realize it’s probably your home. He stays for a while, just sitting on the bottom step, not fully ready to leave you just yet. Eventually the sun starts to rise, so he reluctantly leaves you safe in your apartment and heads home back to the cave. When he walks in, it’s only then he realizes he hadn’t eaten, so taken with making sure you were safe to even really care. He walks further in and finds David sitting in his wheelchair he loves so much. 

“Did you eat, Paul?” David asks with a raised eyebrow and Paul shakes his head. 

“I, uh… forgot…” he mutters, thinking David would be mad, but he’s surprised when David just smiles. 

“It’s okay. We saved you some. Did you figure out what you want to do?” David asks and Paul sighs once more. 

“I’m going to leave her be. That’s it,” Paul tells him and David sighs, sitting forward. 

“Paul. The universe will never let you stay away from her. You might be able to resist for a while, but eventually something will pull the two of you together,” David tells him in a pointed tone. He tries to be soft on him even though he wants to just command him to go talk to her or have max sire him to do it, but David won’t do that, he knows Paul has to choose to go to her himself. 

“It’s whatever, David. I’m going to eat and go to sleep,” Paul responds, shrugging before disappearing toward where they store their food sometimes. 

David frowns as he watches his brother disappear before sighing and shaking his head. David stands slowly from the chair before going and joining Dwayne and Marko as well as all their soulmates in sleeping from the rafter, knowing Paul will join once he’s finished eating. 

Three months have gone by now and every night, David seems to notice that at a certain point in the night Paul will just simply disappear. Where Paul disappears to, David thinks he knows, but he doesn’t want to try and interfere and so he lets him do his thing. 

Once again Paul sits in the sand, watching the waves and just listens to you the whole night. He’d come to realize that your voice is more calming to him then even a joint could be, so he just sits there and listens. Like every night since that first night he’d sat there listening to you and enjoying a peace he never knew he needed until you close up shop. Without fail every single night for the past three months, he waits until you have your headphones on and then he stays in the shadows as he follows you home, just wanting you safe. However, tonight something feels off and Paul just can’t figure it out. 

He’s been trying to figure out why your scent that’s so alluring to him seems off, but he can’t place why. He’s in such deep thought about it that he doesn’t clock the two surfer nazi’s creeping up from the other side. It’s when the one guy grabs you and pulls you into the dark under the boardwalk that Paul is alerted. He quickly follows after and finds one of the surfer nazi’s holding you struggling against the cement wall while the other one seemingly watches. 

“I told you earlier I’d find you and we’d have some fun,” the surfer nazi holding you growls as you continue to squirm and fight him. 

“And I said I didn’t want to. I do have a soulmate, ya know?!” You shout out and for a minuscule minute Paul stops to wonder if you’ve known he’s been around, but he shakes his head clear. 

“And I said I don’t care. Now stay still,” the surfer nazi commands out though a growl and when you don’t do as he says, he reaches up to smack you, fear falling over your face. 

Paul, however, feels his veins boil and an anger he’s never ever felt before washes over him. All he sees is red as he transforms into his vampire self and pulls the first guy off to the side, snapping his neck in the process before pulling the second guy off of you. You watch on as he pulls the guy away and punches him down before crouching over him. He bares his fangs before sinking his teeth into the guy's throat and ripping at it. When he’s satisfied that the guy is good and gone, he stands, heaving for breath, blood all over his face. Suddenly though, like breaking through a fog, his anger dissipates and he turns to look at you. 

You sit there against the sand, staring at the scene in front of you and he immediately rushes over. He crouches down next to you, shielding your view of the carnage behind him. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks softly and all you do is nod as you stare at him with wide eyes, making him think you're scared when you're more in awe. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you at all, but I promise I am of no threat to you,” he quickly informs you, hoping it’ll help calm your fear, but he’s shocked when you softly smile at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, far from it actually…” you pause, trailing off to bite at your lip. 

“I was actually wondering when you’d come out of the shadows and talk to me,” you shyly admit, a blush on your cheeks now and a warm fuzzy feeling takes over Paul’s stomach. 

“It, uh, it was about time…” he admits almost shyly himself even though he’s shocked that you knew he'd been there all along. 

“I take it, you know who I am then?” he asks and you grin, nodding. 

“You’re that cute guy I saw a few months back standing on the beach,” you tell him, not quite sure if he knows about the two of you being soulmates or not. 

“I’m uh, y/n. Thank you for saving me…” you shyly continue and he shakes his head. 

“I’m Paul, and there’s really no reason to thank me,” he responds with a shrug as he gives you his name in return. 

“Hello, Paul, it’s very nice to meet you,” you joke with him and he chuckles, not being able to help but just adore you. 

“Here. I’ll walk you home,” he starts as he stands before holding a hand out for you. 

“So basically what you’ve been doing for the last three months, only I can actually talk with you now?” You jokingly ask in faux shock and he playfully yet bashfully rolls his eyes. 

“I had my reasons-” he shrugs before you place your hand in his and his sentence gets cut off with a halted breath as the two of you stand. 

He’s stunned by just how easily your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and how warm you are. You look up at him, making real eye contact for the first time and as he looks into your eyes, his whole center seems to shift once more as an all consuming love for you just flows through him. 

“Are you okay, Paul?” You ask as you reach up and rub his cheek, trying to get some of the blood off, shocking him even more. 

“No. Yeah, I’m okay,” he tells you although he so badly wants to kiss you, but before he can he’s shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thought. 

“Come on. Let’s get you safe at home,” he fully breaks the tension now, ruining the moment and you frown before nodding as the two of you start to walk. 

Hey, boys. There’s food on the beach if you want it. He reaches out to his brothers though the mind link they share before you nudge him as the two of you walk. 

“So are you the only one I’m safe with? Or is your whole group supposed to like, protect me now?” You joke, but Paul can tell it’s a serious question that you want answered. 

“Nah… No vampire will hurt you. Not with me around now. Definitely not from my pack anyway. You’ve kinda already been adopted into the family,” he informs you and you give him a confused look like you're not fully getting it. 

“You’re part of this family whether you decide to change or not…” he tells you while trying to hide the fact he knows your soulmates. 

“Why?” You ask, egging him on hoping he’ll say it first and he pauses for a moment, trying to decide if he wants to tell you or not. 

“Well umm… because you're my soulmate,” he shyly admits, he’d probably start blushing if vampires could and you let out a giggle, making him look at you in shock. 

“Oh, my sweet Paul. I knew… you really thought I wouldn’t know? Especially when you’ve been following me home every night like a lost puppy. I knew it the moment our eyes first met,” you pointedly tell him with a proud smile.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me then?” he asks and you pause to purse your lips. 

“Well you walked away looking rather sad and I just wanted to give you a hug, but your friends-” 

“Brothers,” he corrects you and you smile softly at him. 

“You were with your brothers,” you amend your first words with a shrug before going on. 

“I assumed you just were shocked by finding me and you’d come talk to me eventually but you never did. I assumed you just didn’t know how to approach me,” you explain to him as you show him your wrist proudly with the words he knows so well written in matching ink: Somewhere Out There. 

“No. I wanted to. Believe me, I did so badly, but my fears of what I am got in the way of it all. I’m sorry,” he explains before looking away in shame. 

“It’s okay. We all let the fear get the best of us sometimes, but I’m glad we’ve finally actually met,” you tell him as you stop in place to turn to him and reach up to touch his cheek, not really caring about the blood. 

“Even with the circumstances of how we met?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow and you let out a giggle that sounds heavenly to his ears. 

“Yes. Even with the circumstances of it all,” you tell him and he shakes his head at you in disbelief before grinning at you. 

“Yeah. Again I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you, even from myself,” he says and he grimaces at himself after saying it. 

“Paul. It’s really okay. I’m just glad we're together now. We are, right?” You ask, scared he’ll leave you at your apartment and never come back. 

“Babe, I couldn’t leave now even if I tried,” he charmingly tells you with a grin taking over his face. 

“Good, because I wouldn’t want you to,” you grin now too, happy to be on the same page. 

That's how the night ends, with you and Paul now walking hand in hand in the moonlight. Paul can’t help but to think just how right his brothers had been, if only he’d talked to you that very first night this could have been the two of you every night for the last three months. But Paul refuses to think any further about it and can’t help but smile the whole way as he walks you to your apartment. He leaves you there knowing you’ll be safe, promising to see you tomorrow night and together you both know this is the start to an even more beautiful story for the two of you to tell in the future. 

The End...

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[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: cussing, suggestive thoughts?? mentions of kissing 👅👅, angst and overthinking cause im a hater. SLOW BURN :P

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until KickAss has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: Like 3k idk

Guys lmk if I ate…

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You had just finished showering when you heard your mom calling your name, telling you there was someone at the door for you. Thankfully, you were dressed and had finished drying your hair already. “Coming!” Opening the door of your steamy bathroom, you were met with Dave walking past to your room.

“I already sent him up!” She called from downstairs, far too late.

“Hey,” You spoke in a rather awkward tone, slipping past him towards your room as he followed. “Uh, sorry if it’s a little messy, I was gonna organize it before you got here but you got here already so… Yeah.” You picked up everything from your desk, taking your things to your bed to study comfortably.

Dave stood there awkwardly, not sure if he should also sit on your bed with you or… Anywhere else.

“Come on, dude,” you scoffed in amusement, patting your bed to get him to sit down. He laughed nervously, setting his bag next to your bed and taking his notebook and pen out. He sat down across from you, at the end of your bed while you sat by your pillows.

“Nice shirt,” he said, seeing the Robin shirt you were wearing and remembering he had drenched it in his blood. You looked down at it, smiling to yourself. “I found it in my closet yesterday and… I—I just washed it.” Dave himself was just wearing a tee and sweats.

“Okay, so I was able to get half of my stuff done after you dropped me off earlier, but I still have this part to finish.” You pointed at your laptop, showing him what you still had to write and continued to talk about what else you had to finish.

It was a project for science. The two of you had to put together a presentation on some animals or something.

“So…” you tapped your pen against your knee.

Finishing writing a sentence, he lifted his eyes to look at you, “Yeah?”

Was it just you or was he actually starting to look… Good?

“Um…” You looked to the side as you thought of an ice breaker. “You had any girlfriends yet?”

He blushed and smiled awkwardly, “Uh…” Scoffing at himself, he looked around as if an answer would pop into his view. “Not really… Why…?” He squinted at you.

“Hm. Still a loser I see. Glad to know you haven’t changed.” You teased. He only rolled his eyes, looking back down at his paper.

“You’re so annoying. Didn’t you get dumped like three times?”

“Unbelievable,” you watched him, rolling your eyes. “When you get a girlfriend you can talk shit.”

He smirked. “You’re not denying it.”

You glared at him. “I dumped them.”

“Right.” He looked back down at his notebook, trying to hold back a smile.

You glanced up at him again, taking in his features, the way his glasses slowly slid down his nose as he looked down, the way his bottom lip was caught between his teeth in concentration.

Before you knew it, he was looking up at you with a curious look. “…What?”

You blinked, hiding the flustered feeling you got from him catching you staring.

“You’re also not as incredibly nerdy looking as I remember.”

He can only glare at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” But alas, he hoped it meant you were attracted to him. At least almost as much as he was to you.

“Nothing you just… Don’t look so bad after all this time.”

He quickly looked back down at his notebook, unsure of how to feel from the so called ‘compliment.’ Although his heart was pounding through his ribcage, he decided to tease.

“You think I’m cute?” He gave you a smolder.

“Oh hell no.” You scoffed at the stupid face he made.

“Maybe.”

Even if you had whispered that last part, he still heard it.

You had spent almost an hour working on your project before you heard your dad knock at your door. You had no time to answer before he opened it.

“Dinner’s ready.” He said, smirking at Dave. “Keep the door open.”

You rolled your eyes. “Dad, you know it’s not like that.”

Dave and your father had a very good relationship before you had stopped being friends. There were even times where your dad would go out of his way to invite Dave and his dad over for dinner. They even had their own inside jokes.

“Don’t worry, sir.” Dave shook his head, “I’m way out of her league.” He had a smug look on his face that made you want to shove him out of your house.

“Up top,” said your dad, holding his hand up as Dave stood up. You knew your dad loved you and was just teasing, but it still annoyed you.

“You guys suck.” You said, pushing past your dad and meeting your mom in the kitchen while they laughed.

If it was any other guy, like your last boyfriend, your dad would have beat his ass for saying something like that. But it was Dave, and Dave was like the son your dad never had.

“Love you, hun.” Your dad called after you but you didn’t reply.

You set the dinner table quickly, sitting down as your mom set the food down.

Your dad sat at the end of the table with your mom across from you, Dave’s usual spot had always been next to you and that didn’t change.

“Where have you been? We missed you, kid.” Said your dad, already digging in.

Dave gave you a look, wondering why you hadn’t told your parents your reason for not being friends.

“I dunno… Just been busy, I guess.” He said quietly.

“Why haven’t you come over?” Your mom asked.

Dave and you looked at each other for a second, “We just didn’t really talk much after freshman year ‘cause we didn’t have any classes together.” You told her, which wasn’t really a lie. You and Dave didn’t have any classes together freshman year.

“That’s sad,” she frowned, “you two were always inseparable.” She smiled at Dave fondly.

Dave only poked at his food, “Yeah,” he said, smiling to himself.

You had finished eating, everyone continuing to converse here and there with their on food still on their plates when you felt Dave’s knee touch your thigh. He didn’t pull away, and neither did you to see what he would do. He only kept talking to your parents, completely ignoring the fact his body was touching yours.

Of course he actually did realize this. In his head he had done it on purpose just to see how you’d react. You tried to stop thinking about it for the rest of dinner.

You weren’t mad or uncomfortable, of course it had happened before, but it felt different somehow. Familiar.

“So have you guys gone on any dates yet?” Asked your mother, out of nowhere.

You froze, staring at her. Dave choked on his drink, coughing over and over again, trying to catch his breath but he didn’t seem to tone it down. His face was red because of this. And other reasons.

“Sorry.” Your mom hid a smile, seeing Dave’s reaction gave her more than enough answers on his part.

She gave you a knowing look and you sent her a look of disgust.

"Gross." You said, repeating Dave's words from earlier that day. Dave finally cleared his throat of whatever he choked on and tried to back you up. His knee wasn't touching you anymore, you noticed.

"What she said," he pointed his thumb at you, voice hoarse.

"You've never even thought about getting together!?" Your mom looked surprised. At this, you couldn't help but do exactly that. What it would be like to go on a date with him, maybe getting a coffee at Atomic Comics, maybe watch the Avengers movie that was about to come out in theaters. What it would be like to hold hands at school, how surprised everyone would be since you guys seemed to hate each other so much. What Cleo would say, what Todd and Marty would say.

What you would have to tell Kick-Ass if he climbed into your window again.

'Hey I know I patched you up and stuff and kinda stopped you from bleeding out, and I know we kissed like three times but guess what?! I have a boyfriend and I can't talk to you anymore.'

And what it would be like to kiss Dave. If he would be any good at it, or if he still hasn't gotten laid because he's too much of a pussy to talk to girls. How it would feel if he had his hands all over you, his lips brushing yours, how it would feel if he was kissing your neck softly—

"You guys have much in common." Your dad smiled slyly at you two, snapping you out of your daydream.

Why had you let your mind wander that far?!

Dave stared at his food, his face an obvious red.

"Okay, that's a wrap..." You cleared your throat, pursing your lips. You excused yourself from the table, picking up your dish and Dave followed, “Thanks for the food,” Dave smiled at your mom as you took your dishes to the sink.

"Sorry about that," you spoke as you approached the top of the stairs.

"I—It's fine." He brushed it off, sitting down on your bed as you shut the door.

It was silent for a few moments as you scrolled through an article on your laptop, Dave reading from his drafts.

"Have you even had your first kiss yet?" You questioned out of the blue.

His eyes shot up, hesitating for a second before regaining his composure.

"Yeah. Sixth grade, remember?" He said proudly. "Have you?"

"Yes, dumbass. You know this." you scoffed.

"With who?"

"Remember Freddy? The brunet guy that called you a nerd in second grade and you never got over it? He was my first boyfriend."

"Lame." He rolled his eyes. "Smart-mouth like him I bet it was the best kiss you ever had." He shot.

"Wrong. Best kiss I ever had was with Kick-Ass." You crossed your arms sassily.

It was safe to say that Dave was flattered. "Oh really? You don't even know him though, so it doesn't really count."

"Maybe I don't know who he is, but I do know that he actually likes me. I just have to find out who he is. He’s probably hot or whatever…”

Dave blinked in awe. "He might not like you… He could just be using you. Why are you kissing random guys anyway? Are you really that desperate…?”

“No?! He just made it obvious, okay? And why are you getting all weird? Are you jealous…?”

“Me? Jealous of him? Fuck no, I’d rather be stitched up by a damn chimp than you with your terrible needle skills.”

You paused. “How did you know I needed to stitch him up…?”

He was able to answer before hesitating, “Cleo told us when you left for fourth period.”

“Fine whatever. Just piss off dude, at least I talk to the opposite sex.” You huffed.

He stared at you for a moment and you laughed at his expression, himself joining you soon after. A few moments later you noticed yourself looking at him too often. Like you were expecting him to say something.

“…What?” Dave slowly looked up at you from his notebook, noticing your lasting gaze.

“I—“ you thought for a moment, figuring out a way to explain yourself. Suddenly, you sat closer to him, pulling his glasses off his face before putting them on yourself.

“Holy shit, you’re blind.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He scoffed, “you’re exaggerating.”

You took a moment to look at him, noticing the big difference without his glasses. Dave watched you expectantly.

“You look weird with glasses.” A smirk threatened to creep up on his lips. You only scoffed.

“And here I was thinking you looked cuter without them.”

He blinked, losing his words and you began to notice a pink upon his face. He laughed nervously, swallowing whatever was in his throat as he looked away at his notebook, trying to pretend like he didn’t hear you.

You smiled, feeling a sudden urge to tease him in a flirty way. “Did you hear what I said?”

Dave looked back up at you. “What?”

“You should wear contacts. You have really pretty eyes.” You looked at his lips for a moment, licking your own, picturing yourself kissing Dave.

“Um… Thanks…” His heart rate began to quicken as he tried keeping his gaze on you, noticing how you looked at his lips. All of a sudden, he grew bold, looking at your lips too.

“What are you looking at?” He asked curiously.

You blinked and looked up at his eyes, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of your nose. “Nothing.”

“You know… I had a crush on you in eighth grade.” He whispered.

You laughed, “What?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know how my taste was that terrible at any point in my life.” He tutted.

“Fuck you.” You laughed softly. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”

He held back a smile, tracing his eyes over your features.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until you felt yourself being pulled closer to him. He leaned towards you as well until his face was just a few inches from yours, his hand resting next to your leg to hold himself up.

Finally, he began closing the distance, trying to ease into it as if not to scare you. His lips barely made it to yours before you pulled away, removing his glasses from your face and placing them back on his with a smile.

“We should finish this…” You sighed.

His face was noticeably red again, especially from the embarrassment of you pulling away. He felt like an idiot, thinking you actually wanted to kiss him. He didn’t question you or anything, but he still wanted to understand why you’d lure him in like that only to rip it from his grasp.

"Oh fuck, it's already ten past nine," spoke Dave, putting his things away.

"I would say you could sleep over like you used to, but I don't want my parents saying shit like that ever again. Plus Kick-Ass could come over and I don’t want him to think I’m with a nerd or whatever.” You teased.

Giggling, he stood up with his bag in hand, you followed him to the front door.

"Thanks for having me," he smiled as he walked past your parents in the living room. He opened the door for you, stepping out after you.

"Thanks for studying with me... And dinner." He spoke softly, giving a small smile.

"Yeah..." You stood in front of him, admiring his features as he towered over you. He had a strong jaw, soft plump lips, a cute nose, perfect eyebrows (for a guy), and beautiful blue eyes behind his glasses. His curls fell over his forehead—were you looking at him too long? You felt like a creep for just staring at him for what felt like hours. You knew it had to be weird. But what you didn't know was that he was admiring you too.

He was standing so close, close enough for you to right hook him. You looked at his eyes 'til you caught him glancing at your lips. He wanted to kiss you again, like he did yesterday, but he knew he couldn't. Not as himself, at least.

For some strange reason you moved closer to him, not knowing why or what your motive was.

"See you Monday." He took a step back, pursing his lips with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"We—You can come over tomorrow if you want...?" You tried, but to do what? Why did you want him back here again so soon?

"Uh—I have stuff this weekend... But I'll text you if any plans change..." He slowly walked backwards onto the sidewalk. He felt bad for lying again. He couldn't keep this up much longer.

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SLOW BURN MUTHAFUCKAS 🗣️🔥🔥

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