#Kei is so tired of hearing questions on his brother’s hair

[billskeis]

can you pls do like a one bed situation ( enemies to lovers ) with 2007 tom and ofc they do it☺️

ᡣ𐭩 sharing a bed w tom

“what!?” the two of you said simultaneously to then glare daggers into each other. both you and tom groaned in disapproval when the receptionist explained that the room you booked for only contains one bed.

there was no other way around such a situation.

your class was going out for high-school trip to the mountains. for majority of the day, you explored the small town and shops with your girlfriends while tasked with an ‘educational aspect’ of it.

none of the students cared much for it honestly.

strangely, your friend group and tom’s friend group were constantly running into each other. and as much as you and tom hated it, the friends of the two groups didn’t.

the continuous pick-up lines, slight touching, teasing. it drive you nuts.

“ugh, i’m gonna fucking throw up…” you pretended to gag as you watched one of your friends hug a boy with black semi-spiked hair. eyeshadow rings around his eyes that curve into a smile just like his mouth.

cheesy ass hoes.

“lighten up y/n! besides, tom’s been staring at you quite a bit,” emily, your best friend being too loud, you hear a scoff coming from somewhere next to you. “as if, i would rather suck on a horse’s foot than be with y/n” tom rolls his eyes as you cross your arms.

“at least i don’t look like a fucking horse’s foot..”

tom’s mouth gapes at your comment “what the fuck did you call me!?” “you heard me bitch!” this led the two of you to bicker and it almost threatens to become physical.

the two of you literally had to be stopped by emily and the now spiked hair boy who you later found out his name was bill, his twin and clearly more logical and cooler brother.

“they argue like an old couple,” gustav mumbles, “they’re gonna do such great things in the future…” georg adds in.

beforehand, you were each given a room number and a key to the hotel room you would be staying in for a few days. as the teachers and staff declared it a night, all students were to head to their assigned rooms.

as you made your way to the front desk, you see a particular dread-head already there.

you roll your eyes so hard you swear they went to the back of your head, but you’re too tired to fight this guy, having already gotten your hits in a few hours earlier.

“room 483?” you questioned the lady working behind the desk (get it ;D) as she types into the computer, “that can’t be your fucking room,” tom makes a jab at you but you’re clearly not in the mood for it, “and why the fuck not?”

“because that’s my room.”

you drop the keycard on the table.

the both of you then glare at the receptionist who’s already clearly in cold sweats due to the tense and thick atmosphere the air is bringing.

“okay—there’s clearly been a mix-up with your card tom because that’s my room.” “uhh i don’t think so kleine, look at my key card.” he drops it onto the table beside yours, the two of you analyze the numbers imprinted onto the plastic.

it’s the same exact goddamn keycard.

you sigh heavily, body achy, all you wanted was to rest, but in no way were you going to share a room with someone you hate down to your core.

“well is there at least two beds??” tom asked, he looks just as tired as you and at this point the bickering needs to come to an end. the both of your bodies are now leaned into the front desk, impatiently waiting for an answer. why the hell is this lady taking so long to answer a yes or no question??

she purses her lips, slowly shaking her head.

“what!?” you both managed to scream out at the same time.

she then explains because the rooms were intended for one student only, the rooms with singular beds were all booked. “are there any other rooms available??” yet again, she shook her head side to side.

you swear you were going to smack her so hard her head was gonna fly off her body even though it wasn’t her fault.

“i can’t fucking believe this, are you kidding me!? can’t even do your job and compensate us for something we paid for!?” you were so angry. you pointed your finger at her and just continued to berate her.

angry and tired, it wasn’t a good combination on you, it led you to become extremely irrational. losing total control of your actions, that was until a hand grabbed yours and squeezed it gently.

“y/n.. please.. can we just check in..? i’ll sleep on the floor—or the couch if there even is one—just, stop.. okay? how’s that sound.” this was a side of toms you’ve never seen of his in the past four years.

it reminded you of how soft and gentle he was when you first met freshman year.

you bit your lip, immediately regretting how you acted. like a douchebag, she was just doing her job. it wasn’t in her intentions to mess the rooms up for you, but you blamed her anyway.

your head hung low, to ashamed to apologize, you just instead slammed your hand on the desk to grab the two keycards and made your way towards the elevator.

tom followed behind after mouthing a ‘sorry’ to the receptionist who acknowledged his apology for you, immediately going back to her job.

as you exit the washroom, you see tom already laying on the floor, using whatever clothes he had packed to form a make-shift bed. he tosses and turns in attempts to get into a comfortable position that would allow him to sleep. you raised your eyebrow at him, what is he doing?

that was until you quietly crept your way to the closet to check for any extra blankets or pillows hotels normally provide to you.

nothing, nada. empty.

i swear to god you’ll never ever book a trip here again, you make a mental note to yourself if you were to ever want to take some time off in the future.

you inhale sharply, and exhale deeply. with every inch of your body, you cannot believe you’re doing this right now, “tom,” you called out. all you heard was a hum from across the room to acknowledge you, “sleep on the bed,” “i’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor y/n—” “well of course i’m not sleeping on the floor, we’re sharing the bed.”

tom sat up so quick in disbelief to what he’s hearing, “a-are you sure..?” “yes, tom, it’s fine.. we’ll just pretend none of this happened in the morning, got it?” he nods at your request and gets up from the floor.

the both of you enter the bed at the same time, the covers were so warm. your lamp was the only light source that lit up the hotel room. turning it off, the only source of light now was the moon that shone dimly through the windows.

you felt at peace, adjusting yourself to slowly drift into sleep.

however that peace was short-lived as you stretched your backside to hit the only other figure that was in the bed with you.

“shitfuck, sorry tom i didn’t mean to—” “to grind your ass on me? yeah right,” you rotate your whole body to now face tom, “okay first of all, don’t be so cocky—woah!” a pair of arms now wrapped around your body and embraced you into a hug.

“god you can’t even imagine how long i’ve been wanting to do this..” hesitantly, you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, taking in his scent. the room is silent, only filled with the heavy breathing that emits from the both of your bodies.

“kleine, i’m so sorry, so sorry for how i acted in the past..” “t-tom.. it’s fine i’m completely over it.” he places kisses all over your cheeks, “no, no it’s not baby lemme make it up to you yea?” he plays with the hem of your shorts, teasing you in wanting to take them off.

“i’m tired tom,” “pleaseplease just let me do this for you okay? you don’t have to do anything i just—just wanna show you how much i’m sorry for making you hate me..”

nodding, tom smiles and kisses you once more this time on the lips. he drags both your shorts and underwear down your legs shortly doing the same with his sweatpants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

damn, he must be really turned on, the way you felt his hard on rest between your legs.

lining up his dick, tom slowly pushes into you. hissing at the slight burn from tom’s size. he’s always been big, and you’ve done it before, “god.. how long has it been? weeks? months? but you still remember the shape of this dick in you..”

you choke on a moan at you try to retaliate tom, his words embarrass you. but he’s right, ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been abstinent. he makes it sound as though he’s messed with other people. but little did you know, he’s the same. never fucked since the breakup.

“s-shut up..” “you’re right, ‘m sorry this is supposed to be my apology to you,” he thrusts hard and deep despite the awkward position, the both of you in a spooning position he attempts to find a good angle to fuck you in.

body sensitive, your stomach clenches as electricity travels within your core, a string threatening to snap at the way tom drags his dick inside of you, ensuring you feel every inch of him in you.

he’s handsy. his hands roam around and drag across your body. you shiver under his touch. the way his dick hits your g-spot along with the slight pinching and groping felt all over your body. he plays with your chest, runs his hands up and down your stomach. tom holds onto your wrists from time to time for great leverage in the way he fucks himself into you, desperate.

tom leaves open mouth kisses on your neck and shoulder, all you could do was whine and whimper letting him use your body as he pleases. it’s been so long since the two of you fucked so you feel, everything.

“close, i’m getting close meine kleine, tell me you forgive me,” his thrusts become a little faster, clear that he’s chasing his orgasm the same as you, adding more to the heat as you grind your hips on him.

“i-i forgive you tom, fuck! i can’t..” your body convulses as your orgasm washes over your body, clenching onto tom, this quickly leads him to come inside you, unable to pull out with the way you hold onto him so tightly, “fuck! y-y/n..”

riding out the high, tom finally pulls out and slips your bottoms back on, putting on his own right after. he looks up at you but you only hide your face within your hands, embarrassed about the fact that you just fucked your ex-boyfriend after what seems like forever.

but for the plot, am i right?

“i cannot BELIEVE i just did that,” you groaned as tom laughs at you, peeling your hands away from your face. all you can see in the darkness is the glint that lit in tom’s dark brown eyes from the moon and the small reflect of his metal lip piercing that shined from the way his mouth curves into a smile.

“do you regret it??” “no..” “then that’s all that matters,” he places a peck onto your forehead. “one final question,” he chimes in “tom, you already fucked me haven’t you had enough fun??” “yes. but can i just ask?”

“what is it now,” “wanna get back together?”

you said yes.

[folksaga-if]

“It is a long story, and it does no credit to anyone: there is murder in it, and trickery, lies and foolishness, seduction and pursuit.  Listen."

- Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology

You are a human. A totally normal one.

Honestly.

You’re a human. You’re a bartender, which is a very normal job for a human to have, and when you walk down the winding streets of Akureyri you can blend seamlessly into any crowd of people which is, without question, only something that a human could do.

The fact that you came here two years ago with nothing but the clothing on your back doesn’t mean anything; you’re hardly northern Iceland’s first wayfaring soul. That you had no money to your name, no friends or family to speak of — that’s a fairly average human thing, too. And that little craving you have, that quiet urge to dig your teeth into any passing stranger’s throat? It's completely, entirely mundane.

It’s manageable. You’re managing.

Or you were, until someone — someone who's decidedly notas good at this human thing as you are — begins leaving a trail of dead bodies at your doorstep, and a trio of god-like siblings take a seat at your bar.

MAGNI THORSON .

No doubt the mightiest of his siblings, the eldest child of Thor is exactly the sort of person you would expect him to be: a giant (half-giant, in fact) asshole with a smoulder and a knife-sharp jawline to match. He’ll match your every word with a cocky grin and a joke that’s nowhere near as funny as he thinks, and he’ll look every inch the prince that he is all the while.

(Well, the prince that he was. Just don’t let him hear you say that.)

MODI THORSON .

For the supposed embodiment of his father’s wrath, the God of Thunder’s second son is surprisingly…not that. He’s no picnic, mind you — he’s broody, he’s secretive, and he's fucking intense, but that hardly equates to fury incarnate. You’re sure there’s something hiding under that moody surface; whether or not you want to uncover it is a different story entirely.

(Looks like even gods aren’t immune to middle-child syndrome. Who knew?)

THRÚD THORSDÓTTIR .

Valkyrie, seidhr,paragon of strength — with all of her mother’s best traits (and a few of her father’s worst), is it any wonder that Thor’s youngest child was also his favourite? Smarter than her half-brothers and more likeable by a longshot, you might find yourself forgetting how easily the fortune-telling goddess could break you in two. You might, but she’ll be happy to remind you if you do.

(Maybe a little too happy, in fact.)

KATLA B̶͍̏L̸̝͑O̵̟͠M̴̳̓Q̴̯̔V̵̺͆I̷̗͛S̵̠͒T̸̬̒ .

A fellow nomad and your coworker at Black Thunder, the first friend you made in Akureyri has remained your closest. Mischevious, magnetic, and often up to no small amount of trouble, there are times when you think you might know Katla better than you know yourself. You even know about her…well, you know that she…sorry, what were you talking about again?

(It's just that it’s nice, being close to someone who’s so very human.)

THE MARE .

There’s a voice in your head and a shadow in your dreams, and they’re telling you to run. You probably shouldn’t trust them.

(…Right?)

Customize your monster character. New life, new you! Choose your gender identity, change your name, cut your hair, and remember: if you’re starting to grow tired of running from your past, try on a new outfit and start running faster.

Play as one of three runway creatures from Norse mythology — a cunning keeper of the forest, a charming warden of the lake, or a formidable guardian of the mountains. Each has its quirks (would you prefer a hollowed-out tree for a back, or webbed fingers and forearms covered in scales?), but they all have two key things in common: they’ll killto protect their homes, and you’redefinitely not one of them.

Choose your own fate, out of the countless that are presented to you. Had oatmeal instead of skyr with your breakfast this morning? You might have just brought about Ragnarök 2.0. Nice one, asshole.

Multiple romance options, with each available to pursue regardless of your gender or background. Ever wanted to kiss a god under a starry sky? Now's your chance! Or maybe you’re through with immortal beings and desperate to ask the pretty server on a date? Go for it! She’s definitelya human too. Totally. You’d be able to tell if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t you?

Save the world — or don’t.It's your choice, and isn't that what true freedom is all about?

Folksaga is inspired by The Edda, Norse mythology, andTwin Peaks, with a bit of tweaking to the myths as needed for the sake of plot. MC backgrounds have been adjusted to fit for all players regardless of gender identity, and creative liberty has been taken with some smaller points for a smoother storytelling experience. All changes will be explained in an FAQ post (too be added in the links below ASAP!)

AS OF AUGUST 21 UPDATE: The current demo consists of the prologue (introductory lore + character creation), + chapter 1, about 70k words total.

I expect it to be somewhere in the range of 600,000 to 700,000 words, but this is subject to change (and likely will due to my propensity for rambling text. oops.).

I’ve written  short and long-form original fiction as well as a lot of fanfic (say hello @ pentaghastly on AO3, and @kendallroynsfw on tumblr!), but this is my first IF! Bugs and coding issues may appear in the demo; please let me know if any issues arise during your playthroughs.

Folksaga is a work in progress. I would love constructive feedback when the demo is posted, as well as any bugs or grammar issues to be brought to my attention if I've missed them :) I would also love patience, because I'm a full time health care worker who gets sleepy lots xoxo

A Swedish farmer named Sven Andersson was executed in 1691 for having intercourse with a mountain nymph, or bergsrå. I will neither confirm or deny if his Wikipedia article was the inspiration for this IF, except I will confirm it and it definitely was.

MC ORIGINS | RO INTROS | DEMO!!!!! | COG FORUMS | PATREON

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE ; — sae still finds himself a little homesick, but home is beginning to look a little different than before.

warnings: fluff, no warnings! note: i’m still trying to get a feel for his characterisation so bare with! i wanna write for him more though sob :3

sae would be lying if he said he didn’t get homesick.

despite his usual stoic and unbothered exterior, he’d still moved across the world completely alone — chasing a dream, happiness. it had been daunting at first, he can still remember the way the silence settled in his hotel room on his first night and how empty his first apartment felt, quiet.. a little lonely.

he had a family in japan, friends and despite his rocky relationship with his brother rin it was charming the way he still seemed to instantly reply to his texts. he’d never admit he missed him, neither would but the sort of blunt back and forth of one word answers and short questions was still a little like home.

sae’s body feels heavier today and it’s these sort of days that he finds himself reminiscing as he trudges up the steps of his apartment complex, training bag slung over his shoulders and his jacket zipped up to his chin. he’s maybe a little too short tempered to listen to his agent ramble on in his ear right now, pressing his phone closer before he sighs with his next long blink.

he’s tired, miserably so and he wants nothing more than to just collapse on his couch for the rest of the night. he reaches his floor, gives himself a few moments at the top of the stairs before he’s taking another step and his agent is still going on about contracts, sponsor deals, dinners that he’d rather die than attend.

“i’m not doing that.” sae eventually replies, his voice is low and it feels like the first time he’s spoke all day when he feels the familiar scratch in his throat. he stops at his apartment just as he hears his agent panic to convince him to attend this dinner, rambling on about the importance of showing face and the benefit of the publicity.

but his key turns in the door before it opens and suddenly he’s not focused on anything else except the soft hum of music, “we’ll talk about it later.”

sae suddenly feels lighter with his first careful step into his apartment after he shrugs his shoes off at the door, opting to drop his training bag at his feet instead of emptying it in his room like he normally would.

he crosses the room but then he chooses to settle in the doorway of the kitchen when the source of the sound finally comes into view. there’s you, soaked to your elbows in bubbles from the sink as you wipe down his dishes from this morning and he recognises the soft hum of the tune from your lips as the song that was playing on the radio as he drove home.

you peer at him from over your shoulder when the floorboard creaks under his feet and you’ll still see the hello in his eyes before he’s pushing himself closer, falling into his place as his shoulder knocks against yours. “what’re you doing?” he’ll ask even though it’s obvious but it’s been a while since he’s heard the sound of your voice.

“welcome home.” you coo, deliberately sweet and honeyed and you think it’s amusing the way he rolls his eyes at you despite the way he’s kissing you once on the cheek when you lean in. another on your forehead, then on your lips when you puff your cheeks and the tension in his shoulders drops when he catches the smell of your hair that’s grown so familiar to him by now.

itoshi sae had always been the face on the billboard, the child next doors role model and a life of practice interviews that you watch on the screen — slicked up hair that frames his features just right and a silent sort of confidence that proves it doesn’t have to be flashy to be known.

but to you, he was the face you wake up to every morning when his hair is still down and he’ll huff everytime you curl yourself closer telling him it looks cuter that way. he’s the kind of person that’ll pinch your cheeks to stop you teasing him but press a kiss to your lips anyway, and you were aware of the soft spot the midfielder held for you that you’re sure his manager would appreciate from time to time.

“you look tired.” you giggle, teasing and sae sends you a look that really is a little sleepy before your hands are reaching out from the water to reach at him instead.

“i’m always tired after practice.” he sends you a deadpan expression before he’s leaning away from you, grabbing your wrist gently as he frowns at the bubbles that drip from your hands. “gross,” rolling his eyes and opting to dry you off himself.

”you’re always so grumpy before your nap. you can just admit you missed me.” it’s amusing to be able to poke at sae like this, if it was anyone else he'd have torn into them long ago. but it’s you, and he thinks it’s annoying the way any irritation in his bones seems to melt with your own cheeky grin.

“no,” he replies quickly, indifferent expression on his face despite the way he pulls your arms around his shoulders after he’s finished drying you off. letting his own fall naturally into your waist as they push up your shirt to rest on your skin and he tilts his head at you.

“are you sure? i’m pretty sure your texts say otherwise.”

“you’re annoying,”

“you love it though.” sae feels his ears burn with slight embarrassment, maybe it’s because he can’t deny that. but he still lets you nuzzle into the crook of his neck as he huffs, feeling your fingers squeeze at his shoulders as he lets his own trace along the length of your spine before he pulls you closer.

“shutup, i’m tired.” homesick, but he can acknowledge the change because suddenly, he found himself missing the press of your fingertips on his skin every morning and the sound of you humming as you wash the dishes in his apartment.

but he doesn’t know when the shapes he was tracing in your skin began spelling out i love you, gradual rather than all at once but he’s never been so sure of anything in his life.

home wasn’t a place anymore because even if he’s already groaning at the thought of that sponsorship dinner in a few weeks, when he sees you he forgets.

sae’s aware he’s just in the kitchen of his argentina apartment, your hands are still a little damp at the base of his neck, tracing along the jewellery that lays across his skin. but your laugh sounds warm and pretty when he squeezes at your waist, just enough to start a laughing fit that serves as a little payback for teasing him, before he’s kissing you once and hoping you feel how much he missed you today without him saying it because he does love you.

maybe home’s started to look a little different than before.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

TOO TIRED

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you're too tired to do anything and Eddie can't help but suspect something else going on. Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, abuse, crying, SH. blood

the cold evening air of your room tried comforting you, but your body was burning and was useless against the heat of your shaking body.

the silence of your room made your cries echo, sending shivers down your spine.

the way your body shook along with your sobs made you feel pathetic, and it was a given that if anyone saw you like this, they would think the same, that you were absolutely pitiable but didn't deserve the pity.

you were curled up on your bed, crying your heart out at something that anyone would say was small, that there was no reason for crying about.

but there you were, in your bed, your blankets abandoned on to the floor as you wanted to scream in your pillow, the slight lines of blood staining the white of your pillow as it dampened with your tears.

the stinging on your arms and thighs felt 100 times worse than usual.

but you seemed to freeze when you heard the phone start to ring from downstairs.

your mum had left to go to the mall and your brother went out for a run to cool off as your sister was at your dad's house, leaving you alone in your stress and troubles.

you let it ring until it stopped before you felt yourself start to drift off, but it started to ring again.

you lazily got up, sniffling back more tears as you trailed down the stairs to the phone, your feet stomping heavily as your got to the yucky red coloured phone on the wall, you picked it up, taking a deep breath as you heard a sigh on the other line

"____ Residence, how may I help you?" you rubbed your temple, a massive headache starting, making you feel dizzy.

"is that my beautiful girl I've been waiting to hear from?" you heard

"yeah" you said blankly, you surely didn't feel beautiful in the moment, your eyes puffy and a bright, deep red, your hair knotted all over the place as thick red liquid dripping from your wrists.

but Eddie didn't seem phased by your bluntness, he must not have noticed

"so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out, I rented our favourite movie, we could go out to the record store and buy some tapes and we could either go out or order dinner" he suggested

"I'm tired, Eds" you responded, feeling your eye lids getting heavy

"of what, darling?" he questioned, his voice soft and worried, scared of the answer

"everything" you sigh "can we just do this another time, maybe Monday?"

"you're saying it'll take 2 days for you to not be tired? what's wrong darling?" you could hear the concern in his voice as he spoke carefully

"nothing, Eddie, I'm just tired and want to go to sleep, there's nothing wrong, I'm fine" you tried reassuring him.

the last thing you wanted was to make Eddie worried about you, because he's always had it worse than you.

you didn't want to complain about your parents because he didn't have any.

you didn't want to tell him your brother abused you, because he has been abused in almost every way.

you didn't want him to see the scars and fresh cuts on your forearms, because you had seen all of his, and they weren't just thin long dashes.

you didn't want to show him the bruises that scattered around your body, because he wore them almost every day as a kid.

"alright then, well uh- I'll talk to you later then I guess. I love you" he breathed heavily

"love you too" you yawned before hanging up.

but Eddie didn't care what you said, he got his jacket before grabbing his keys of his car, running out to his van before driving to your house, almost speeding.

after the phone call, you couldn't walk up the stairs, your legs gave up after the first step, so you weren't to the next room to lay on the couch, trying to sleep.

the baggy shorts hung low on your hips as your shirt clung to your sweaty frame.

you got up and stalked to the door after hearing the bang on the door.

you opened the door slowly, looking down at your feet. you noticed the dirty white reeboks only inches away from your socked feet,

you looked up quickly to see Eddie staring at you with his eyebrows raised. you went to shut the door but he held it open. his hand gripping the door as he slipped his foot between the door at the frame.

"have you been crying?" he asked, looking in your eyes.

"no" you shook your head, looking away from him

"please talk to me, I'm here for you, you know that" he pleaded, pushing the door open when your hands slipped from the handle

"I'm fine" you huffed

"I don't believe that"

"just go home, please" you begged, folding your arms against your chest, hugging yourself for comfort.

he stepped in the door and shut the door behind him, bringing you into a hug

"we don't have to talk about it" he shrugged

you starting sobbing in his chest as he rubbed the small of your back.

you breathed onto his chest as you grabbed onto his shirt.

"can we go home?" you choked

"this is your home" he responded in a confused manner

"this isn't home, I wanna go to your trailer"

"you don't wanna stay here?" he tilted his head

"please" you cried

"ok, yeah, go get what you need" he stepped away from you, you grabbed his hand and started walking to the front door

"I only need you" you whispered, and even though you were in this state, that still managed to put a small smile on Eddie's face

-

it wasn't until you walked into his trailer that Eddie noticed the scratches, bruises and scars on your body. it wasn't hidden but he was just more focused on your tears than your body

"ok seriously, what happened? what are all these?" Eddie sighed, holding you inches away from him

"is this why you didn't want to stay there?" he questioned

you only nodded as your nose began to feel fuzzy and your eyes starting to sting, you were going to break again.

"I don't wanna stay there, I want them gone" you whined

"who gone?" he leaned down to level with you

"them, My mum, Brother, Dad, Sister. I can't deal with it anymore. don't make me go back" you began shaking again.

"who did this?" he motioned to the marks on your body

"mum blames me for it" you admitted as your lip quivered

"for this?"

"for my brothers behaviour, says I'm gonna be like him when I grow up and keeps yelling and screaming at me" you wept

"she did this?" he rubbed your shoulder, being gentle of the growing bruise on your collarbone

"no" you whimpered "my brother did"

Eddie's jaw clenched as he inhaled sharply

"how often does he uh- hurt you?" he bit his lip, scared of the answer

"this was the second time" you whispered

you reached for him but he noticed your wrists before he pulled you in

"he did that too?" he grabbed your hands, holding them to give him a better view of your forearms

"it's too much, he's yelling and screaming every night, Mum get's mad at me for it and starts yelling at me, I try getting my sister to leave, I don't want it to be like this anymore, I want it to go away" you sobbed

"you did this?" he murmured, his voice barely audible to your ears as you wailed in front of him, your trembling body making it hard for you to stand as you felt dizzy again

Eddie held on your waist lightly, weary for any marks in that area as he led you to his bed and let you rest on his soft dark sheets.

he went to his bathroom, coming back with a dripping rag in his hand, he sat beside you as he held you arms, wiping the semi-dried blood off your wrists

"please don't do this to yourself, you're marking yourself forever with these and you don't want to look down at these in a few years and remember why you got them, I'll always be here to listen to you." he started

"I love you and I'd do anything to make you feel safe, even if it's from your own family. I want you to be happy, even if you somehow get it with me. understand?" he said sternly

"yeah" you nodded, flinching at the slight sting

he leaned in to your head and placed a kiss to your temple

"I'm gonna go, order us some pizza, we can watch a movie, eat ice cream and just go to sleep, that sound good?" he raised his eyebrows

"yeah, great" you yawned, the hot, salty tears dripping into your mouth

Eddie kissed your cheek and he brushed your hair out of your face.

"I'll be right back" he smiled at you warmly. he pulled off one of his rings and slipped it on your finger.

he walked out of his room and you heard him calling the pizza place before you slowly dozed off, your eyelids giving up on staying open.

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

this was mostly for my comfort because something like that happened to me, but I didn't have anyone to comfort me. anyway, I'm sorry if you don't feel safe in your own home, home is a place where you should feel the safest but that's not always the case.

[escape-the-real]

The Lost Crown: A Tale of Rebellious Royalty. (MHA Fantasy Au x reader)

Drabble, Characters are 18+

Synopsis: Y/n meets two new acquaintances while on the run. Can they trust them?

Word count: 1,766

Includes/mentioned: Shigaraki, Magne, Bakugo, Hana, Kirishima.

Key: (T:) - Translation, (e/c) - eye colour, (s/c) - skin colour, (h/c) - hair colour.

Warning: Angst, and mentions of deceased loved ones.

⚔︎- Chapter Two: The Dark Forest-⚔︎

Y/n stopped running to catch their breath but also turned to look back towards the palace that had been their home for so many years. It was all they knew, but that simple knowledge sent fear coursing through them again. Quickly Y/n turned and ran deeper into the forest.

The village road was a well-traveled route that they were afraid to go on. They endured the brambles, thistles, and thorns that grew quickly in the underbrush instead. The thistles thrashed Y/n's ankles and the thorns tore the makeshift cloak they were wearing. Their heart pounding so loudly that they stopped when they could hear nothing else. However, at that point, Y/n was driven forward by a greater fear of being captured than a fear of the unknown.

They found that the more they moved, the forest around them lay in listening quiet. The noise of Y/n's scrambling canceled out any noise of a follower behind them. So they ran without stopping. When at last Y/n couldn't go any further, they sat down with their back against a huge tree and rested their head on their knees.

"I'm too tired to be afraid," Y/n muttered out to the open air before closing their eyes.

When Y/n's eyes reopened, the gray light of dawn lit the clearing around them. Where the clearing merged into the forest, tangled fronds and broken branches marked the way they had come. Y/n stared in dismay. Prince Shigaraki's trackers would not even be needed to find them. They would be the morning's entertainment for his visitors.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it." The voice was gentle, hardly disturbing the quiet of the peaceful clearing.

Their heart leaped into their throat. At first glance around the cleaning, they saw nothing. They were ready to believe that they had finally gone mad.

In their peripherals, they saw a long red, and scaly tail. This tail belonged to a… man? He sat resting on a branch above Y/n on the tree they had fallen asleep against. He had bright red hair that spiked towards the heavens, scarlet eyes, sharp pointed teeth that formed a smile, folded wings, and horns that protruded from his red hair. He wore no cloak, just a small grey vest that did nothing to hide his rather muscular build that was littered with scales, a baggy pair of dark grey pants, and a dull orange scarf hung loosely around his neck.

Y/n shuffled forward in alarm when he jumped down from his perch above them. He made a non-threatening gesture by raising his hands in surrender. He walked slowly towards the way that Y/n had come. They watched him, ready to run. He retraced Y/n's steps and with heavy swipes of his tail, he crushed the brambles and undergrowth. Y/n watched in curiosity and astonishment. When at last the man was finished, a wide portion of the underbrush had been flattened. The tacks that they had left had been well hidden. The man made his way back towards them. He stretched his arms above his head yawning, sharp pointed teeth fully on display.

"W-why did you help me?" Questioned Y/n, not used to kindness, especially kindness from a stranger. The man tilted his head at them, pondering their question.

"There's nothing the way you came but Shigaraki's palace," the man replied gently. "Anyone who flees from that wretched place will find that I give my assistance freely."

Y/n's e/c eyes widen in surprise. Slowly they felt their body begin to relax. "You do not call him Prince," they said wearily studying the man.

"Nope," the man said confidently. "I only have one who I shall call Prince, and it's not Shigaraki, brother to our dead Queen.

"Who do you serve then?" Y/n asked.

"I serve the barbarian Prince and his family. I am his mate and sworn protector, it's what my dragon-shifting ancestors have done for centuries before the great war. When we lost so many…" His voice trailed off. He looked back at Y/n, and his eyes lost their fire, becoming gentle.

He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before looking back at them with his head tilted and a wide smile. "Come on," he said. "We shouldn't linger around here. It's unwise and dangerous."

Y/n hesitated for a moment. They looked around as if finding the best route of escape.

"Come," the man said gently yet firmly at the same time. "No harm will come to you when you're with me." His eyes pleading her to allow him to help.

When Y/n took the first step towards him, it surprised even them. But once their decision was made, they couldn't turn back. Y/n intended to take another step toward the man but stopped due to her feet being cut up and having extremely sore muscles. The man gave them a once-over before swiftly walking over and picking them up, bridal style. They let out a squeak before clutching their cloak tighter and pulling their hood down to cast a shadow over their eyes, but the man didn't look down at them. Instead, he gave a light rumble that they felt vibrate in his chest. He walked into the sea of overgrown ferns. Y/n could see the path before the ferns hid it again.

Y/n had become used to the swaying motion of being carried when they came across an open meadow. Little huts were clustered along its edges, their little chimneys sending light grey smoke into the sky. Between the huts, Y/n could see animal corrals. People went about their work, stopping now and then to entertain their children.

"Is it a village?" Y/n whispered in awe.

The man gave her a funny look. "Have you never been to the village?"

They shook their head. Their attention was fixed on the huts, and they didn't see the look the man gave them.

They moved through the village. Few individuals turned to look at them with curiosity. Y/n was drawn to one in particular; he had his back to them, but his ash blonde hair was spiky, and he moved with an unusual grace. When he turned, his ruby-red eyes followed the two. Y/n was too tired to remember just how he sparked this recognition and too sore to really care.

The shapeshifter carried them away from the village to a small camp and the man that Y/n saw before was there waiting.

This man had spikey blonde hair, piercing blood-coloured eyes, different tribal jewelry, and tribal tattoos. He had no shirt on his muscular chest, a red cloak adorned with white fur at the collar sat on his shoulders, and baggy black pants hung up by a belt sat dangerously on his narrow waist.

"Tch, the hell is this?" The ash blonde spoke harshly.

"A guest and be nice." The shapeshifter said with a sigh.

"Eijiro." The ash blonde said warningly.

"Eijiro?" Y/n muttered this name out.

The redhead holding them looked down at them in his arms with a smile.

"Yup, that's my name. Eijiro Kirishima! Guess we didn't really introduce ourselves before, did we?" He said with a light chuckle.

The blonde let out a loud sigh. "Whatever, we will talk later about this. I saw a herd of wild boar this morning and intend to get some fucking meat for dinner."

"Could you possibly drive them through the clearing near the twisted tree and a little bit through the plain?" Kirishima asked the blonde while setting Y/n on a freshly made bed roll.

"Why?" The blonde snapped.

Kirishima went closer to the other man before whispering something that made his jaw clench. Y/n could only catch something about The Yami no dōmei (T: Dark Alliance), which made them shudder.

The blonde quirked an eyebrow before saying, "Heh! Shigaraki's group might change one hunt for another". He didn't care how loud he was or if Y/n heard him.

Kirishima kisses the man on the lips with a quick "Be safe Katsuki."

The blonde smirks after the kiss and looks towards Y/n, who looks away embarrassed for being caught staring at their private moment. The blonde laughed heartily, then grabbed a sword and headed to the area where he had last seen the herd of boars earlier.

Y/n watched Katuski walk away before they realized how tired they were and how comfy this bed roll that Ejiro had placed them down upon. They didn't even notice when Ejiro got a bucket of water and sat beside them.

"Mind laying back for me? Just want to clean your scratches, don't want them getting infected, do we?" He says, gently pushing their shoulder to get them to lay back.

Ejiro pulled out a shimmering green vile from his trouser pocket and dumped its contents into the bucket of water. They made no protest as he slid their cloak off from their shoulders. When a cloth dipped in the bucket was gently applied to the scratches created by the thistles, Y/n closed their eyes.

The rhythmic movement abruptly halted. The feeling of comfort vanished in an instant. When Y/n opened their eyes, they noticed that Ejiro's scarlet eyes were sweeping over the birthmark on their shoulder. Almost in a protective manner, their hand shot up to cover it. Ejiro turned away, sensing the uneasiness.

He got up and started tending to things around the small campsite. Y/n waited tensely for him to mention anything about the birthmark. But he said nothing. For some strange reason, the silence from him bothered them even more. It robbed them of their peace and made them slightly angry.

"Here, I made some tea to help you relax enough to sleep. Made with Valerian, you know, the plant." Ejiro said, placing a small cup beside them.

Y/n knew of the plant Valerian. It was in one of the books they had read many times while locked in their room. Valerian is well known for having mildly hypnotic qualities that make it act on the nervous system like a sedative.

"O-oh, thank you," Y/n said, sitting up a little. With his back to them, they pretended to sip the tea before dumping it on the grass next to the bedroll. Then, instead of taking that much-needed rest, Y/n spent the next few hours feigning sleep.

Many thoughts and images ran through their mind. Y/n thought of the palace, Shigaraki raging at Mange for losing them, the boars, and the two new acquaintances they had met. With all those thoughts swirling through their head, they fell into a troubled sleep.

Thanks for reading, hope it was enjoyable!! Make sure to stick around for ⚔︎- Chapter Three: Flames at Noon-⚔︎

[mayajadewrites]

suguru geto x fem reader – lucky

roommates to lovers–friends to lovers–slow burn

synopsis: Suguru Geto is your best friend and roommate. After a year of living together, there have been more than one opportunity to throw away your friendship. The question is, would you get lucky as fall in love for the rest of your days?

ao3

CHAPTER THREE

Your entire closet is on your floor as you go through every one of your date night outfits to find the perfect one to meet Choso. You settle on a pair of ripped jeans that hug your curves just right, and a white off-the-shoulder blouse. You topped it off with a pair of chunky heels and gold toned accessories.

You hear Suguru putting away dishes, making sure all the pots and pans are organized. You grab your purse and walk out of your room, wary of the reaction you'll receive from Suguru.

He stopped what he was doing when he heard you close your door, his eyes trailing down your curvy figure. Some of your mid-drift was showing, just a sliver, but it left Suguru with a lump in his throat.

"How do I look?" You spun your body, giggling at yourself. "Come on Sugu. Don't tell me it's hideous." You look down at your outfit, double checking that everything looks okay.

"You look beautiful. Per usual." Suguru looked away, back at the dishes. He put the last of the bowls away before leaning his back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "What time will you be home?"

"Do I have a curfew?" You raise your eyebrow. "I don't recall us setting one when we made the house rules."

"No, but I don't know this guy. You don't know this guy."

"I'll be back by 11. You have my location." You grab your keys from the entryway table. "If anything happens or goes wrong, I'll text you." You take one last look at Suguru. His hair is all the way down, his silky black hair almost illuminating him.

"Be safe." Suguru sighed and looked down. You saw his eyes peer up at you as you closed the door, leaving you feeling like you're doing something wrong. Maybe this isn't the right decision.

No.

He's not your boyfriend.

He's your best friend. Your roommate.

Just breathe.

You arrive at the restaurant and see a man with two buns and tired eyes standing at the doorway on his phone. His physique is muscular, you can even see it through his dark gray sweater. He had a tattoo across his nose, which you thought was cute.

"Choso?" You walk over to him, his head shooting up from his screen. He smiled at you before taking your hand and kissing it.

"Yes. You're even more gorgeous than Shoko described." Choso shoved his phone in his pocket, opening the door to the restaurant. "Thank you for coming, I know blind dates are weird. But Shoko wouldn't shut up about you."

"Funny, she was talking my ear off about you, too." You enter the building, taking in the smells of the delectable dishes.

Choso is very easy to talk to. You notice his nails are painted, which you find very adorable. A man who is in touch with his femininity turns you on, especially if he's as muscular as Choso.

He tells you about his family, more specifically his little brother Itadori, who is his world. He basically takes care of him like a father.

Another point in the cute column for Choso.

"So, what about you? Do you have siblings?"

"No, I'm an only child." You dip a chip in the salsa on the table in front of you. "My friends are my chosen family."

"Thats beautiful." You both reach your hands for a chip, your fingertips grazing each other. Choso blushed at the contact, waiting for you to pull your hand away, but you didn't. Choso grabbed your hand lightly and rubbed his thumb on your knuckles.

"Thank you for meeting me here tonight." Choso gave his card to the waitress. "I'm really glad Shoko wanted to play matchmaker."

"Honestly, me too. This was the highlight of my week." You smile as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You look at the time on your phone, 9:45 PM.

"Is Itadori expecting you home yet?" You stand up with the help of Choso. His hand stayed on yours as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"No, I told him I'll be home by 11:30." Choso messed with one of his buns. "What did you want to do?"

"Lets..." You look around at the parking lot, seeing if theres any place to get dessert. "Lets just talk in your car."

Choso brings you to his car where he turns on some music and leans his chair back, drumming a beat on his legs. You smile as you watch his quirks – one of them was music. He loved listening and vibing out to music. It was like his own little world.

He laughed when he opened his eyes and saw you staring at him. "I'm sorry, I get lost in music."

"Don't be. It's cute." You turn your knees toward him, your arms slighting pressing your tits together. Choso couldn't help but glance down at them, a shade of red gracing his cheeks,

"Choso?" You tilt your head, locking your eyes with his.

"Hm?"

"You can kiss me, you know." Your eyes move to his lips as his mouth curves into a smile. Next thing you know, his lips are on yours, moving gently with your pace. You press your hand on the side of his face, the firy touch of your skin making him flinch. Choso laid his hand on yours, leaning his cheek into your palm.

"You taste sweet." You pull away gently, licking your bottom lip.

Choso laughed and pressed his head to his headrest. "You're absolutely adorable."

"I'm gonna head home, thank you so much for the date." You kiss Choso's cheek, opening the door to get out of your car.

"Text me when you get home." Choso's arm extended to the chair you were just sitting in.

"Will do." You lean down in the window and smile, closing his door gently.

When you get home, Suguru is in the living room. The only light is from the TV, playing some movie that he's not even paying attention to. He's so buried in his phone he almost doesn't notice you come in.

"I'm home, you can go to sleep now." You slide your shoes off.

"How was it? How was he?"

"It was great, actually. He's really sweet. That Mexican spot we went to is great, me and you should go sometime."

"Mm." Suguru nodded, locking his phone. His eyes look tired, more than usual. He leaned his head back on the couch, fighting to stay awake. "Wanna finish this movie with me?"

You didn't have the heart to say no. At the end of the day, he's your best friend.

"Sure, let me change quick." You go to your room and change into a big tshirt and shorts. Suguru was still awake when you walk back out, his arms extended along the back of the couch. His head was leaing back and to the side with his hair down. His eyes flickered to you, lighting up a bit seeing your figure in the doorway.

You sit next to him on the couch, but still a bit far away.

"Come here." Suguru said with his eyes closed, his arms still wide.

"Suguru, I-"

"Stop talking. I'm tired, I've been worried about you all night, just please come here."

You didn't protest. You snuggled your body into his, leaning your head on his shoulder. You instantly felt safe as you closed your eyes. Suguru leaned his cheek on the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you.

You wake up and hear faint snoring, along with a jet black mop of hair in front of your eyes. Suguru's body was entangled with yours. It's impossible to get out without waking him up. You panic, but at the same time, you don't want to leave this spot. You look up at Suguru's face – he looked so peaceful. His snores were light as his chest moved up and down with his breathing.

You decide to deal with this in the morning. You pull the blanket over the both of you, snuggling deeper into his chest.

[meepthemeeping]

Lambert finally slid onto the wall. Everything was spinning around him as he tried to focus. Geralt helped him move in, then Lambert had a night to himself at a bar. There were hardly any ladies, which killed his chances of getting laid, so he chose the next best company: whiskey. After getting hammered, he dragged himself to his apartment.

The place was an a-bit-too-fancy studio apartment on the south side, which he discovered after a fight with his last girlfriend. Kiera got pissed at him for, in her words, "being a complete douche"... The fire he caused may have added to her reasons for breaking up.

To make the night worse, his keys were nowhere to be found. He checked his jacket and even his truck, though he didn't drive tonight. There’s no point in knocking. He knows no one is inside to open the door for him. This was the first time he didn't have a roommate or a girlfriend.

Fuck.

He only needs to be called an asshole so many times before he gets the message...

He had thought things were actually going well that time, but no, it always ended eventually. He's not new to the idea of not being wanted, his own father didn't want him. He could feel tears start to form in his eyes.

"Fuckin' shit, we're not doing that," he tries to compose himself.

He has his brothers, the old man, and Ciri; they are enough for him.

Grunting through his teeth, he stood. Using a discount card from the grocery store down the street, Lambert tries to jimmy the lock. He must have left the fucking key inside; gods-fucking-damn it! While mumbling to himself, Lambert didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. The next thing he knew, he was slammed against a wall. A taller man pinned him, knocking the air out of him.

"Fuck!" He grunts. The drag of the bricks on his back was mostly shredding up his leather jacket.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" The mystery son of a whore rumbles. Looking up, he sees a man whose eyes are a chartreuse green, shining nearly yellow. He had copper tone skin and thick, wavy hair tied back in a bun.

He hissed as he could sense each brick driving its way through his coat to greet his spine. "Trying to get in, fucking duh," he growls back, too shitfaced for this. Pushed hard onto the wall, the man was nose-to-nose with him.

Of course, he was being attacked while shitfaced; that was his fucking luck. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Shut it." The man puts pressure on his arm, barreling into his chest harder. Lambert could feel him searching his pockets. He saw his wallet and headphones thrown on the ground. There is no way in hell he was getting mugged tonight. With all the force Lambert could muster, he rammed his knee into their abdomen. He fumbles out his hands and makes a beeline for his belongings.

The man recovered quicker than he thought; the world tilted as he felt dull pain propel him down to the ground. Gasping in agony, Lambert was pinned to the unclean cement floor. "Fine! Fucking take my wallet!" He's too tired to care if some asshole steals his shit.

"Your wallet?" The attacker asked as if it were a question.

"Just take my fucking stuff; I don't care. You can have it." Lambert grumbles into the floor.

"I'm not robbing you! You tried to break into my place!" The man grinds his foot into the center of his back to emphasize his point.

"What are you talking about, you jackass? I was trying to get in my fucking apartment, then your ass showed up!"

"Are you drunk?" The man's foot lets up enough to keep him down but not be as painful. "Wait, are you in apartment 304?"

"Yes, piece of shit," Lambert says as he tries to flip him off from his pinned position.

"This is apartment 303; your place is across from mine." He let him loose, a heavy frown on his face.

Lambert scratched his head as he stumbled up. "I left my fuckin' key inside."

"How much did you drink? I'll help you." The man picked up the discount card and opened his door as if it were nothing. "Use your deadbolt next time."

"Fuck, how’d you know how to do that so fast?"

"I lock myself out a lot." He brushes him off briskly.

Lambert rolls his eyes and then waltzes to his apartment, revealing his depressing amount of furniture. From the doorway, he was sure his neighbor could see the living room. The floor has sprinkles of forgotten clothes and an abandoned bottle of frankly piss-poor beer. The walls were empty, with nothing but the dull color of light gray decorating them. The worn brown couch was lying in front of his flat screen. There was a slightly beat-up wooden table in the kitchen area.

 "Fucking finally."

"A simple man, I guess," the stranger trills.

Lambert laughed. "Fuck you, I don't keep much. Normally, the apartments I move into are filled with my roommate's shit. It's just me now." He didn't know why he was talking to the man who kicked his ass; maybe he did drink too much.

"Remember your key next time," The tall guy turns toward his door.

"Oh, blow me." He snorts, and the man lets out an admittedly nice laugh.

Lambert shuts the door, feeling his face turn red. Throwing his shoes off and then removing his jacket, he let it all drop on the floor. Who was that guy? Why has Lambert never seen him before? He is very... noticeable. Pulling off his shirt, he still felt the push of the man's heel on him. He sees the glowing spot on his lower back in the bathroom mirror.

The thought of him being underneath that guy or pinned to a wall floated in his mind... Shit. His fighting is getting rusty; he should practice. Eskel told him something about a gym near this part of town. He should talk to his neighbor later and ask where he learned to fight so well. This shit would bruise for sure.

There was a knock on his door the next day. Waking from his couch, Lambert falls onto the wooden floor. He binge-watched some show about Vikings and then must have fallen asleep. The ache in his back from the night before was made worse by the lumpy sofa. His hangover was not a fan of him moving towards the door. With a few curses here and there, he hauls himself upright.

Lambert was keenly aware of the gnarly headache that made him wobble. The room wavered, almost causing him to lose balance, and he grabbed the back of the couch for leverage. He stops once he sights something sliding under his door.

'I'm Aiden, the guy from last night. I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. Feel free to say hi when I am in town.'

Lambert blinked at the note.

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

content warnings: legal alcohol consumption, mentions of a gun (hotch’s)

Part Twelve

Telling me not to wear a tie was not too specific. What do I wear? I’ve never been to a party, and I don’t want to look stupid. I already won’t belong there, I don’t particularly want to stand out.

I decide on a lightweight sweater, black jeans, and my beaten up converse. I can feel the nerves course through me as I finish getting ready.

It’s 8:30. It’ll take 10 minutes to get to Hotch’s apartment, and Im already ready. If I sit here and wait to leave at a reasonable minute, I’ll overthink I’ll back out. And I don’t want to back out because Jade will be disappointed. I don’t want to disappoint her.

Thus, I knock on the apartment door 18 minutes too early. Jade opens it, dressed in a t shirt and shorts I don’t think quite qualify as shorts.

“I’m early,” I apologize.

“No worries, come in,” she smiles softly. I oblige. “You can keep me company while I finish getting ready.”

I follow her upstairs where she tells me to sit. I sit on the edge of her bed, staring at my folded hands in my lap.

“Do I look okay? I feel like I look dorky,” I ask, looking up at her as she does something to her face in the mirror.

She turns around, her eyes now lined with black ink. The black eyeliner makes the brown in her eyes pop even more.

“You always look dorky,” she says after examining me.

My eyebrows furrow, and I frown.

“In a good way,” she clarifies. “Why the pumpkin sweater? It’s April.”

“It’s never too early for Halloween, Jade,” I inform her. My words make her chuckle. I smile at the sound.

She turns her back to me once again, heading to her closet. She picks out a shirt and jeans to wear. “Be right back,” she says, taking the clothing items to the bathroom so she can change.

“How do I look?” I ask, smoothing down my shirt. I picked out a blue crop top with a sweetheart neckline. The waist of the straight legged, somewhat baggy jeans I paired with it reach the hem of the blouse.

Spencer looks up, his eyes shining. “Good. You look good,” he says, and his throat sounds so dry I might offer him a glass of water.

I smile softly and grab my white sneakers. After slipping them on and popping in a pair of silver hoop earrings, I motion for Spencer to follow me. On my way out of my room, I grab the jacket I borrowed from him.

The freshly done waves in my hair bounce as I walk down the stairs. Dad and Jack have turned in for the night, but of them being tired from hard work (for my brother, that means playing with his friend all day.)

Spencer and I walk down to his car.

“So where is this party?” He asks, turning the key.

“It’s a house west of Georgetown. You’ll know it when you see a bunch of cars,” I tell him.

“Georgetown?”

“Mhm. Rich, smart kids party. Shouldn’t be too horrible for you, old man.”

“I’m ignoring the last words of that sentence,” he says.

I grin, teasing him. “Do what you need.”

“How did you find out about it if you don’t go to school here?” Spencer questions.

“Social media. I know someone at Georgetown, and he posted a bottle of vodka with the caption ‘turn up tonight’,” I explain. “And I know where he and his roommates live because I am a pro internet stalker.”

“Should that concern me?” His eyebrows raise.

“Only a little,” I scrunch my nose with a smile.

He shakes his head, averting his attention back to the road.

He finds a parking spot, and I lead him into the house. Four boys rent this place, and it’s quite obvious. Though places like this make for the best parties.

Spencer follows close behind me as we step into the house. There’s drunk people dancing sloppily to loud music, almost drunk people attempting to talk over said music, and I would bet couples and strangers hooking up upstairs.

The look on Spencer’s face tells me he’s already hating this decision.

“Just try to have fun, yeah?” I request, leaning up into his ear so he can hear me.

“Okay,” he nods.

I flash him a small smile. We make our way to the kitchen to grab a drink. We unspokenly promise each other not to get any more than slightly tipsy, though I know he’ll probably only have one drink.

We, well, I mingle with some people I don’t know, while Spencer stands next to me, listening.

“Do you want to play a game?” I ask him, practically yelling so I’m audible.

“What game?”

“I don’t know. We could see what they have outside.”

“I could beat you in chess again,” he grins.

“Shut up.” I grab his wrist and lead him outside.

There’s quite a few people out here playing cornhole, beer pong, flip cup, twister, and darts.

“How’s your aim?” Spencer asks.

“Not great.”

“Want to play darts?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

We sneak past drunk college kids and make our way to the dart game. To clear away the guys already playing, I say there’s a kid puking his guts out over by a tree. Works like a charm.

After a few rounds, Spencer realizes I hustled him. “You little liar!”

“It’s not lying, it’s strategic,” I laugh.

“Evil,” he accuses.

“You should’ve known better. I was raised by a man who carries two guns. My aim is impeccable.”

Spencer makes a face of pure defeat and acceptance as he nods.

I pat his shoulder ‘sympathetically’ with a victorious smirk.

On our way to play another game, one of my favorite songs fills my ears. I grab Spencer’s hand. “Come dance with me.”

“I don’t dance,” he says.

“Yeah, and you also don’t win at darts. Come on,” I pull him inside.

We push past people mingling, red solo cups in their hands. We find ourselves in the living room, others dancing around us.

“What do I do?” He asks.

“Put your hands on me.”

Spencer looks like his brain is about to short circuit from overthinking my statement. I grab his hands gently and place them on my hips. Mine then hold onto his shoulders.

“This feels like slow dancing,” he says.

“It’s a little different. Now basically we jump up and down like children or sway our hips on opposite directions. Depends on the beat of the song.”

“How is that dancing?”

I laugh. “I don’t know. It’s just what you do at parties.”

“Seems weird,” Spencer states.

“I could do what she’s doing.” I point over to a girl in a pink dress. Her back is pressed up against a guy’s chest. She slides down, his hands on her body. Her ass grinds on his lap.

Spencer’s face flushes red, and he looks away.

“This it is then,” I chuckle.

As stupid as he may feel, I’m having fun. Letting loose. Letting loose with Spencer. It’s a weird feeling, specially since loose and Spencer don’t belong in the same sentence, but I’m enjoying it.

Eventually, Spencer gives up on fighting it, and he does loosen up. At least a little.

The song changes, but we keep looking at each other, continuing our movements. We’ve inched closer. I can feel his breath brush my hair.

He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. I wouldn’t have mixed those scents together, but it’s amazing. Especially because it’s on him.

The song changes again, and his hands are still on me, mine clutching his biceps. Even closer. Noses bumping.

The way he’s looking down into my eyes makes my heart stop and speed up at the same time. His hands move down, just a little, but enough for me to notice.

Spencer’s mouth is so close to mine I can almost taste him. Sweet honey and spice, that’s what I imagine he tastes like. I want to test my hypothesis. I want to lean in like I’m 98% sure he’s doing right now.

“I think we should leave.”

Surprisingly, it’s me who says it.

“Why? Are you okay?” He asks, eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

“Yeah. It’s just getting too loud,” I answer.

He nods and takes my hand gently. He leads me out of the house, through the crowds of people.

When we’re back in his car, I take a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

I nod. “Yes. There was just too much going on.”

He looks like he’s about to ask me another question, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drives away.

I pull his jacket on, leaving it unzipped. We drive in mostly silence, my eyes gazing out of the window.

When he pulls into my dad’s apartment parking lot, Spencer unbuckles his seatbelt too.

Receiving a questioning look from me, he walks with me to the lobby and onto the elevator.

“You didn’t have to walk me up,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says nonchalantly.

A smile creeps onto my face. I look down at my shoes, rocking on the balls of my feet.

When the doors open, we step off and walk to my door.

We both pause. There’s no words spoken, no gestures to open the door. We just pause.

I inch closer to him, but he’s the one who closes the space between our lips. Spencer’s hands grab the sides of my face as he leans down, pressing his lips to mine. It’s not hard, but it’s not without force.

Our lips move against each others, heads tilting just the right amount. My hands reach up to grip onto his arms. Spencer’s mouth seems to swallow mine, but I like it. I feel the tension within him. He’s wanted this, just like I have. I can tell.

After a split second pause for air, I slam my lips into his again, my tongue slipping into his mouth. His dominates mine, causing a soft sound to release from my throat.

Spencer’s hands slide back into my hair, holding on but not gripping tightly.

We pull away for air, eyes fluttering open.

We pause again, just standing there breathlessly. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” says his mouth, but his body takes steps inside my apartment as I open the door.

Before we’re even halfway in, his lips are on mine again. He shuts the door quietly then leans me against it. My body melts underneath his. There’s this fire in my belly, simmering down to in between my thighs. It’s almost uncomfortable, but at the same time exciting.

My hand rests in between our bodies on his chest. His are still in my hair, but one inches down to my neck, just his fingertips. Another soft noise releases from me.

“We can’t be doing this.” I hardly hear his words over his heavy breathing and the pounding in my chest.

“Why? We’re just kissing,” I breathe out.

“Because it’s wrong.”

“When did kissing become illegal, doc?” I huff out a slight chuckle.

“Jade.” His tone is like a warning.

“Spencer.”

He sighs, breaking his gaze away from me. “You’re Hotch’s daughter.”

“So? You’re someone’s kid too,” I say, trying to catch his eye again.

“He’s my boss.”

I don’t say anything this time.

Spencer steps back, his hands releasing me. “It’s wrong.”

“Okay. Then go.” My words are quiet.

I move out of his way and open the door for him.

thirteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild <3

[gentaro-kinniecom]

❯Winter, the only season we could be together❮

Characters: Nagisa Ran/gn!reader

C/w: first person pov, mentions of death, illusions (?), fluff, bitter/happy ending, fiction (magic), Rei portrayed as the grim reaper, story based on the shuffle unit ‘La Mort’ and their song ‘Noir Neige’, ritsu is mentioned at some point

A/n: I’ve been writing long fics lately so..hope you guys enjoy <3 Nagisa is like my fav after Madara i love them 🤭 (edit; I decided to repost it again since it was private for a while due to it not having much recognition but yeah!)

Winter; The one season I longed for the most. Yet, I always ended up lost in what is the familiar pathway of my family’s cemetery. Some people would break in often at the beautiful abandoned church, far from our business center but hidden within the forest grounds. A voice from within the building made me speechless. Opening the church’s door with a small creak sound, there he was, the most beautiful man I’d ever met. His long, soft, curly white hair, bounced softly with each note he played skillfully on the piano. My presence didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s eyes red and dull, stared into my e/c ones, taking a step back I slipped due to the ice that had melted and dripped onto the hard-stone floors

“Are you okay?” Without realizing, his hands helped me up, the guy was taller than I had seen when I first arrived

“I’m alright, thank you..I’m Y/n, my family owns the cemetery but, I think they’ve never cared for this church, it’s abandoned after all..”

My words made him interested in hearing more, he grabbed my hand, allowing me to sit down on the bench he was playing in the piano a while ago. The place looked neat, for an abandoned building, it seemed..cleaned up?

“Oh, I see..I hope it’s not a bother for me to play music in here?” I smiled, his eyes wondering around before speaking again “I’m Nagisa” Moving aside and patting the seat beside me, Nagisa smiled, realizing I wanted to hear him play

“Your singing and how you play the piano is really beautiful , I want to hear you again, please?”

His sigh made me a bit uneasy but he agreed. It felt so surreal; I didn’t even notice falling asleep on Nagisa’s shoulder. His eyes showed a panicked look, suddenly being shaken up, I groaned, still tired as he spoke

“You should go back home..it’s not safe around here” Without thinking twice, Nagisa led me outside of the church, letting me go home. But I couldn’t help think why I felt so sleepy while being there..

The days are long and the nights go by so quickly, why was the ending of winter like this? Another stroll through the lifeless cemetery, a figure stuck out to me, what seemed to be two brothers glaring at each other, one of them looked..sad, apologetic even, the other handed him a pomegranate, walking away and leaving his brother alone. As I stepped close, the tombstone’s last name looked familiar..’sakuma’..suddenly, the man stood up, walking my way as I stood there, almost frozen while he spoke

“So you’re the (l/n’s) oldest child..” I nodded, looking at him as he handed me the pomegranate his brother had given him earlier

“My apologies, I’m Rei, Rei Sakuma, you must be Y/n”

“You’re right..do you know my family?” I asked, walking alongside him as we approached the old church, entering as my eyes caught a glimpse of the piano that was now..damaged? It didn’t look playable anymore, how was that even possible?

“Somewhat”- he continued-“The Sakuma’s and your family had a pact of sorts, a peace agreement. Is..everything alright? You seem upset..” My hand touched the piano keys, dust particles collecting on my fingertips as Rei watched.

“Is it..fixable?” One simple question was enough for Rei to comprehend that I have been here before. He gracefully came closer, as soon as his hand touched the piano, it regained it’s old state. Was he even real? Rei smiled, as if hearing my thoughts while opening one of the glass windows. Not noticing how cold it was, he inquired

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?” I didn’t even realize I was nodding until I sat down on the same bench I did weeks ago, when..Nagisa was around. Now that spring was arriving, I didn’t see sight of him anywhere. At least Rei was here..or was he really?

“Only once, but that was four months ago or so, another guy was present at the time, I’m surprised he’s not here”

Rei hummed, deep in thought just as he sat down beside me. He looked at me before asking

“Would you mind if I play something?”

“Not at all..be my guest” A soft melody infused the room, the same one that Nagisa had played the first time we met. I placed my hand on top of his, stopping Rei from continuing as he looked at me

“Can you teach me that song? It’s so lovely, I’d love to play it when I have the opportunity”

Every week I could, I went to keep the place tidy, hoping Nagisa would show up again. Rei on the other hand, came around every two months, helping me learn more about the melody I so loved; Autumn, comforting and sweet..leaves falling down from trees, the crisp air of the afternoon, all indicating that winter was once again arriving soon. After all, it’s been one year since I’ve last seen Nagisa, making my way to the church, now painted and given a new glow, I spotted a letter that had my name written on the front and a sweater below it.

I sat down on the steps of the building, excited to read the letter, however, nothing was written on it. No message or anything, just a blank paper with my name and the initials ‘N’ and ‘R’. Disappointed, I began doubting if Nagisa would ever come back. That was all I could think of, his smile, his red eyes that passionately stared at the sheet of paper that was on the piano..wait, what? I rushed inside, finding a book that remained on top of the piano. It appeared to be a collection of old record songs and such, I took it home with me that day and spent the remaining days of autumn reading and memorizing the musical notes. One fateful night came around when the first snow of this year arrived. I opened the doors of my balcony, holding my hand out, admiring the snowflakes as they slowly landed on my hand, melting as they did.

In the distance, a light illuminated a part of the church, my intuition telling me to follow it. I placed on the sweater I’d found along with the music book and a lantern in hand. Snow started to rapidly build up on the small path, which was weird considering it was the first snow as mentioned earlier. Upon entering the building, the door closed shut and a big gust of wind blew against it, a storm had begun, and I was now trapped inside the chapel. Walking towards the grand piano in the center, I noticed a figure approaching it.

“Nagisa? Is that you?” I called out, yet no response. It was as if I had gone crazy, eventually, I took it upon myself to play the melody I had practiced numerous times. Soon, I sensed someone’s eyes on me, as I turned around..Nagisa stood there, hair down and a new way of clothing; He was dressed in a long, dark navy dress with pants that matched

“Y/n, what are you doing here? It’s too dangerous-“ A hug from my behalf stopped him from speaking, his embrace felt comforting, a warmth like summer; his touch cold like winter.

“I thought I’d never see you again, it’s been over a year, where have you been?” Demanding an answer, Nagisa stepped back, sighing as a figure from the shadows appeared, Rei? It was already strange when I didn’t sense a heartbeat from Nagisa, but even weirder how Rei made himself appear.. it all made sense now, how he ‘magically’ fixed the piano and his mysterious whereabouts

“There’s something you’re not telling me..right?” Rei glanced at the book in my hands, not uttering another word as he came towards me. I started backing up, but fear didn’t rush through my veins, instead, curiosity filled my brain. I tried opening the front door, hutting it as it didn’t budge

“I tried warning you Y/n..I’m sorry” Tears ran down my cheeks, staring at the sweater that was possibly made by Nagisa, instead of giving me a sense of warmth, it felt cold, deathly cold.

“Nagisa, what’s going on..?”He embraced me, it felt as death itself was the one comforting me. Rei held his hand towards me as I let go of Nagisa, he guided me to the center of the church

“It’s a known cliché to wonder around a cemetery, looking at people and thinking they’re real..but you never know when that will actually happen to oneself” A sudden wave of sleepiness dawned over me, as I started to fall asleep, Nagisa prevented me from falling, moving my hair away from my face as he spoke

“I never learned how to love , yet such a kind soul, deserves kind words and actions” With that, his lips brushed against mine, Nagisa’s eyes were teary as we kissed again

“Nagisa..I love you but..nothing is real, isn’t it?” He sighed at my question, guiding me towards the piano, letting me sit beside him and rest my head on his shoulder.

“It..isn’t my beloved. I want to be with you yet..you’re still alive, I can wait years, decades even until we both find each other in the afterlife-“

“No, I want to be with you now. Even if it means dying right now, I’m sure of it” My words shocked Nagisa, meanwhile, Rei already knew exactly what to do. I got up, taking Rei’s hand as I began to drift away from reality. Eventually my body went limp again’t Rei’s, and soon, I found myself back again, now in a different room than before. A bed I’d never seen before, regal from its outdated appearance. At the end of it sat Nagisa who smiled as he saw my awakening

“Do you feel any different? I’m glad it all worked out” I smiled, watching as he got up, walking towards me. Nagisa held my hand, kissing me afterwards as the smile on my face grew

“I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary, I’m sure my parents are worried about me” Without another word in, I got up from the bed, looking through the window and at the funeral that was being held at that moment

Some moments after exploring the church, I went outside; Rei was already waiting for me as I approached the newly placed tombstone..with my name engraved on it. That same night I went missing, my body had been found at the chapel, lifeless, no bloodstains or cuts around it, from what I heard. My favorite flowers adorned the tombstone, making it look full of life, unlike me.

[bullet-prooflove]

Real: Nestor Oceteva x Reader

A companion piece to: An Act of War

Tagging: @annetje @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887

There’s silence, that’s all Nestor can hear as he sits on the couch, you’d fallen asleep on last night wearing nothing but one of his button up shirts. He remembers coming in late and smoothing the hair away from your features as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. The blanket that had covered your legs was still tossed over the arm, a chaotic testimony to your presence. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it. Instead, he gulps from a tumbler of scotch and feels the burn ignite in his chest.

He's tried your cell phone, and it’s had gone straight to voicemail.

It never goes straight to voicemail.

He doesn’t bother to leave a message; he knows there was no point.

It’s you in that burnt out car. He hopes that you hadn’t known the end was coming, that it was over before you realised what was happening.

He fills the glass once more and sags back onto the sofa, his eyes closing, blocking out the world around him. He doesn’t want to be here in the home that the two of you have made together, in the place that’s brought him so much joy. His eyes sting and he pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the tears that threaten to overwhelm him. He remembers the last time he felt like this, sitting on his brother’s bed after the funeral, staring at a picture of the two of them as kids.

One night, he promises himself, sucking in a breath. One night to wallow, one night to grieve, one night to bury the pain, one night to get numb. He’s coming for them after that, he’s releasing that vitriol, that agony, that rage and he’s going to burn their fucking lives down around them and salt the earth.

He’s half a bottle in when he hears the scrape of the key in the lock. It’s quiet, just the scrape of metal and he just fucking knows that they’ve coming to finish the job. He wonders who it will be on the other side of that door, will he recognise the face, or will it be some nameless stranger?

He almost lets it happen. He wants the release that comes with death, he wants the anguish he feels in his chest to die with him. He wants to see you again, even if it’s in the afterlife. But he also knows you wouldn’t want this for him, that you’d want him to fight it, to find a way to keep on living.

The gun is already in his hand as the door opens, his finger on the trigger as he holds it at chest height. He may be drunk but he’s sure he can still hit centre mass if he has to.

When you step through the door he freezes. His heart fucking stops in his chest because he feels like he’s seeing a fucking ghost. You look tired, there’s a sprinkling of dust in your hair and on your jeans. Your jacket is slung over your arm as you close the door behind you softly. It isn’t until you look up, your eyes resting on the gun in his hand, you realise that anything’s wrong.

“Nestor?” You question.

He’s on his feet in an instant, gun clattering on the coffee table. You don’t know what’s happening but you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and it feels like he doesn’t want to let you go. He smells like smoke and scotch, there’s a tremble in his shoulders, you can feel the muscles quivering underneath your fingertips.

“Tell me that you’re real.” He whispers against your skin, his breathing ragged as he clasps you close. His voice is broken, you can hear the emotion in it as he chokes. “Tell me that I’m not dreaming and you’re really here.”

You’ve never seen him like this, so raw, so distraught. It breaks your fucking heart. Your palm comes to rest on the nape of his neck, your thumb tracing the curves of the tattoo that’s inked behind his left ear.

“I’m real.” You tell him softly. “I’m here my love.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[gumnut-logic]

Random at work

Oh, yay, I can see what I’m typing now.

Anyway, random scene during break at work. Not proofed and rough as hell. And yeah, I’m mean.

-o-o-o-

A hand brushed his forehead and drew damp hair out of his eyes.

“Virgil.”

He knew he had to open his eyes but he was ever so tired.

“Virgil? C’mon, big bro, I need you for this.”

The ‘big bro’ rattled down his spine and triggered long worked reflexes. His eyes shot open to find Gordon staring down at him. “Fish?”

“Heey, Virg, knew you couldn’t resist a big brother moment. How are you feeling?” Gordon was grinning, but there was a edge to his expression and worry in the wrinkles around his eyes.

When did Gordon get wrinkles?

The grin turned into a frown and his little brother reached out again, brushing fingers across Virgil’s cheek. “Virg? You with me?”

Umm…

Water was lapping somewhere, but all Virgil could see was a halo of blue sky around Gordon. His brother was in his uniform, eye scarring yellow on blue.

But there was a tear in that blue material…with red staining…

“Whoa! Virg stay still!” Strong hands grabbed him, and it was just as well as the world was anything but still, swimming drunkenly around his head.

Oh, god, his head…

He curled into a ball, holding his head between his arms. Ow and urgh and…his stomach lurched. His groan vibrated his teeth.

“Okay, you’re going to sit here and you’re not going to move, you hear me?” Gordon had shoved himself between Virgil and whatever hard surface was beneath them.

“You’re…” A cough that was almost solid. “…injured.”

“Aww, hell, Virg, I’m fine.” That hand had returned to stroking his hair. He focussed on the movement, desperate to calm his stomach. “It was you who did the heroics this time.”

Virgil’s eyes were still screwed shut. He tried to remember what the hell had led up to this moment, but came up completely blank.

Panic did not help his stomach at all.

“Virgil, calm down. I can’t believe I have to say that to you.” The hand in his hair was rhythmic, almost hypnotic. “Take a breath. We’re fine. I’m fine. You’ve seen better days, but Scott’s on his way. We’re fine.”

The mention of their big brother was the key to everything. Scott was coming. Scott would know what to do. Scott would look after Gordy.

Scott…

“Virgil?”

God, his head hurt.

“Virgil? No passing out on me. You’ve done your quota for the day.”

“Gords?”

“Oh, thank god. You stay with me, you hear? We’ll be out of here in no time. Scott’s breaking speed records as we speak.

Scott was always breaking speed records. He never listened. Always had to go faster…

“Where are we?”

“North Pacific.”

“Why?”

“Landslide.”

It was obvious Gordon wasn’t willing to give him any further detail. Why was the next question, but he had used up what little energy he had just asking those few.

His world continued to move and it was only then he realised it wasn’t his head…though his head was far from appreciating it at all.

“Water?”

“We’re safe. Four’s inflatable. Scott will be here any minute. Rest, Virgil.”

Why?

That hand was in his hair.

Hypnotic.

Scott was coming.

Coming.

-o-o-o-

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 2x04 Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

Sam doesn’t know what’s worse - the pain in his broken hand or the pain he feels when he hears Dean say: “I was dead, and I should’ve stayed dead.”

It shocks him so much, he cannot move. He knows he should do something - lay a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder, on his leg, maybe even take him into his arms, even if Dean fights it. He should at least say something. Anything. He certainly shouldn’t just lean against the Impala’s hood watching his big brother cry right next to him. 

But he can’t move, can’t talk, can barely breathe. Of course, like Dean, he’d suspected that his brother’s miraculous recovery hadn’t been natural. That, with the Colt gone and a demon involved, it’s feasible their father had struck some kind of deal. He isn’t even that shocked that Dad may have paid for Dean’s life with his own. John Winchester had been a terrible father, and he’d messed them up nine ways to Sunday. But he had loved them. Especially Dean.

But Dean thinking he’s responsible for their father’s death, that he doesn’t deserve to be alive in his stead - Sam can’t fathom the abyss that’s opened up in his brother. He can’t see through that kind of darkness. 

“Dean…” he says helplessly and fizzles out again, his face twitching, his hands not knowing what to do. 

Dean sniffs, then wipes his sleeve across his face, clears his throat and pushes off the Impala’s hood. “Come on, let’s go, get that hand of yours checked out,” he declares, car keys already in hand.

“But Dean…” Sam blinks at him, incredulous and a bit nauseous. 

He’s met with a determined stare from slightly reddened eyes, Dean’s face reassembled into a hard mask. “Come on, Sammy, get in!” he says and waves at the passenger door. “That gimp paw of yours needs fixin’. How did it happen anyway? That revenant chick beat your sorry ass?”

Yup. Dean Winchester is back, impenetrable shield of snark up and running. Secretly, Sam’s relieved. They’ll need to talk about this, later, when his hand is no longer throbbing and he’s processed Dean’s dreadful confession enough to come up with a response. Now is not the time. Now doesn’t have words.

xxx

Two hours later, hopped up on pain meds and with a tired ER doc wrapping a plaster cast around his re-aligned metacarpal fracture, Sam’s almost sure Dean didn’t say what he thought he’d heard him say. His big brother is standing in the hallway just outside the treatment room, laughing and chatting up a pretty nurse. He looks completely at ease and confident, eyes twinkling, his Casanova smile exposing his straight white teeth, and even with his opiate-muddled vision Sam can see that the nurse is completely charmed by what she sees. 

Dean makes some stupid saucy remark, and the nurse coyly brushes her hair behind one ear. Dean leans down to whisper something, and she blushes, smiling.

Cocky bastard.

There’s no trace of the broken-down, hurting brother from a few hours ago. It seems like a bad dream - Dean crying, utterly forlorn, and looking at Sam with those haunted eyes. 

Dean’s earlier warning to Neil rings in Sam’s head. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.” What had their father messed with? And what had his decision done to Dean and to that stupid guilt complex he carried around like a cursed trophy?

Sam’s too drugged to feel the true weight of Dean’s words right now, and he’s glad that he is. Hell, give him all the drugs if it means he’ll forget the look in his brother’s eyes and his desperate question. 

“What could you possibly say to make that all right?”

Nothing. There’s exactly nothing he can say.

“Alright, you’re all set.” The doctor releases his arm and snaps the plaster-smeared gloves off his fingers. “Let that dry for a minute and I’ll go and get your prescription and your paperwork. Then you can leave.”

Sam looks at his hand. The cast extends from below his elbow to his knuckles, his thumb splayed out and immobilized. Hunting’s going to be a bitch until he gets that thing off again. 

“Thanks, doc,” he says nevertheless.

“How long will he need the cast?” 

Dean has wandered back into the room, a scrap of paper in his hand that surely has the pretty nurse’s phone number written on it. He puts it into his pocket. The nurse has disappeared.

“Six weeks,” the doctor answers, sliding past Dean. “Then a few weeks of PT and he’s good as new.”

Dean uses two fingers for a grateful salute that the ER doc acknowledges with a nod. Sam and Dean both know that there will be no physical therapy beyond Sam massaging his own hand and practice-shooting beer cans, but there’s no need to communicate the Winchester way of recovering from an injury to the medical professional. They’ll make do, and he’ll be fine, as usual.

“You ready to go, Captain Hook?” Dean grabs Sam’s abandoned jacket from a chair and helps Sam into it, leaving the right sleeve dangling empty.

Sam scowls. “It’s a cast, Dean, not a hook.” He’s slurring his words a bit.

“Who cares. You’re a gimp.” He grins, eyes sparkling mischievously. Hard to believe he’s been crying desperately only hours ago. “In any case, no wanking for you for a while. Sorry, lil’ bro.” 

Sam scoffs. “I’ve got two hands.”

“Yeah, and with your luck, you’ll break the other one too, just tryin’.” The shit-eating grin is back as well. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

So this is how it’s gonna be, Sam thinks blurrily as the doctor returns with a prescription for pain meds and his release papers. They’re just not going to talk about it. They’ll move on. Dean will stew in his feelings of misplaced guilt and worthlessness in silence, and Sam will be too much of a coward to address them. Dean will drink more than usual, and Sam will keep an eye on him and make sure it’s not too much. Time will hopefully heal both his broken hand and Dean’s broken… whatever it is that’s broken inside him. It always eventually does. It has to.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Sam feels Dean’s steadying hand against his back as he leads him through the maze of hospital corridors back outside, to their car. Sam drops into the passenger seat, cradling his bandaged hand like a foreign object. A dull ache pulsates underneath the heavy plaster, kept at arm’s length by the morphine still coursing through his system. He feels leaden. His damn heart feels leaden. 

Sam looks over at Dean, now stoic and quiet in the driver’s seat. Did that conversation really happen? 

 “I was dead. And I should have stayed dead.”

Leaning his head against the side window, Sam closes his eyes. All he wants to do right now is sleep. And forget.

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[folksaga-if]

“It is a long story, and it does no credit to anyone: there is murder in it, and trickery, lies and foolishness, seduction and pursuit.                                                                                           Listen."

                               - Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology

You are a human. A totally normal one.

Honestly.

You’re a human. You’re a bartender, which is a very normal job for a human to have, and when you walk down the winding streets of Akureyri you can blend seamlessly into any crowd of people which is, without question, only something that a human could do.

The fact that you came here two years ago with nothing but the clothing on your back doesn’t mean anything; you’re hardly northern Iceland’s first wayfaring soul. That you had no money to your name, no friends or family to speak of — that’s a fairly average human thing, too. And that little craving you have, that quiet urge to dig your teeth into any passing stranger’s throat? It's completely, entirely mundane.

It’s manageable. You’re managing.

Or you were, until someone — someone who's decidedly not as good at this human thing as you are — begins leaving a trail of dead bodies at your doorstep, and a trio of god-like siblings take a seat at your bar.

(Ragnarök might have marked the end of the Norns, but that doesn't mean your fate died along with them.)

MAGNI THORSON .

No doubt the mightiest of his siblings, the eldest child of Thor is exactly the sort of person you would expect him to be: a giant (half-giant, in fact) asshole with a smoulder and a knife-sharp jawline to match. He’ll match your every word with a cocky grin and a joke that’s nowhere near as funny as he thinks, and he’ll look every inch the prince that he is all the while.

(Well, the prince that he was. Just don’t let him hear you say that.)

MODI THORSON .

For the supposed embodiment of his father’s wrath, the God of Thunder’s second son is surprisingly…not that. He’s no picnic, mind you — he’s broody, he’s secretive, and he's fucking intense, but that hardly equates to fury incarnate. You’re sure there’s something hiding under that moody surface; whether or not you want to uncover it is a different story entirely.

(Looks like even gods aren’t immune to middle-child syndrome. Who knew?)

THRÚD THORSDÓTTIR .

Valkyrie, seidhr, paragon of strength — with all of her mother’s best traits (and a few of her father’s worst), is it any wonder that Thor’s youngest child was also his favourite? Smarter than her half-brothers and more likeable by a longshot, you might find yourself forgetting how easily the fortune-telling goddess could break you in two. You might, but she’ll be happy to remind you if you do.

(Maybe a little too happy, in fact.)

KATLA B̶͍̏L̸̝͑O̵̟͠M̴̳̓Q̴̯̔V̵̺͆I̷̗͛S̵̠͒T̸̬̒ .

A fellow nomad and your coworker at Black Thunder, the first friend you made in Akureyri has remained your closest. Mischevious, magnetic, and often up to no small amount of trouble, there are times when you think you might know Katla better than you know yourself. You even know about her…well, you know that she…sorry, what were you talking about again?

(It's just that it’s nice, being close to someone who’s so very human.)

THE MARE .

There’s a voice in your head and a shadow in your dreams, and they’re telling you to run. You probably shouldn’t trust them.

(…Right?)

Customize your monster character. New life, new you! Choose your gender identity, change your name, cut your hair, and remember: if you’re starting to grow tired of running from your past, try on a new outfit and start running faster.

Play as one of three runway creatures from Norse mythology — a cunning keeper of the forest, a charming warden of the lake, or a formidable guardian of the mountains. Each has its quirks (would you prefer a hollowed-out tree for a back, or webbed fingers and forearms covered in scales?), but they all have two key things in common: they’ll kill to protect their homes, and you’re definitely not one of them.

Choose your own fate, out of the countless that are presented to you. Had oatmeal instead of skyr with your breakfast this morning? You might have just brought about Ragnarök 2.0. Nice one, asshole.

Multiple romance options, with each available to pursue regardless of your gender or background. Ever wanted to kiss a god under a starry sky? Now's your chance! Or maybe you’re through with immortal beings and desperate to ask the pretty server on a date? Go for it! She’s definitely a human too. Totally. You’d be able to tell if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t you?

Save the world — or don’t. It's your choice, and isn't that what true freedom is all about?

Folksaga is inspired by The Edda, Norse mythology, and Twin Peaks, with a bit of tweaking to the myths as needed for the sake of plot. MC backgrounds have been adjusted to fit for all players regardless of gender identity, and creative liberty has been taken with some smaller points for a smoother storytelling experience. All changes will be explained in an FAQ post (too be added in the links below ASAP!)

The current demo consists of the prologue (introductory lore + character creation), which is about 20k words. I plan to post it in the next few weeks, after some edits + the completion of chapter one!

I expect it to be somewhere in the range of 600,000 to 700,000 words, but this is subject to change (and likely will due to my propensity for rambling text. oops.).

I’ve written  short and long-form original fiction as well as a lot of fanfic (say hello @ pentaghastly on AO3, and @kendallroynsfw on tumblr!), but this is my first IF! Bugs and coding issues may appear in the demo; please let me know if any issues arise during your playthroughs.

Folksaga is a work in progress. I would love constructive feedback when the demo is posted, as well as any bugs or grammar issues to be brought to my attention if I've missed them :) I would also love patience, because I'm a full time health care worker who gets sleepy lots xoxo

A Swedish farmer named Sven Andersson was executed in 1691 for having intercourse with a mountain nymph, or bergsrå. I will neither confirm or deny if his Wikipedia article was the inspiration for this IF, except I will confirm it and it definitely was.

MC ORIGINS | RO INTROS | demo coming soon!

[champion-level-astroturfing]

⏳️

[a memory...

It's the front hallway of a house! A narrow little space, stairs leading to the upper floor taking up half of it, the door to the living room immediately adjacent and the kitchen visible through a doorway at the back. The wallpaper is not so much tired as exhausted, the carpet so threadbare and dingy the original colour is entirely lost, the light above flickering ever so slightly. But there are, also, bright crayon children's drawings tacked up on the wall, flowers in a cracked jug on the sideboard and, sitting next to the front door, a pair of bright blue Tympole-themed wellington boots and a slightly larger pair of bright pink Jellicent-themed wellington boots, both with matching raincoats hung above.

Also sitting, on the stairs, is Shardy.

This time he's only perhaps five years old, a little round and squishy creature dressed in what is clearly a hand-me-down jumper with a pattern of Morelulls, hugging his knees and humming to himself, completely tuneless.

He's waiting for something, or more likely someone, big blue eyes fixed on the front door.

Perhaps ten minutes later, his patience is rewarded when a shadow comes into view behind the frosted glass window, a key rattling in the lock. Shardy scrambles to his feet, leaping down the stairs as the door opens, crashing directly into the older man who steps inside.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad com'n see dad! Dad com'msee!"

"Ha, okay, okay, gimme a sec." The man's voice is rough, but his hands are gentle as he returns the child's hug before gently moving him aside so he can hang up his coat and bag. Shardy hops impatiently, uninterested in any further delays.

"Dad come seeeeeee, dad! Dad!"

"Alright, I hear ya. What'm I lookin' at? Where's yer brother?"

"Come see! There's peas! Peas!"

"Oho, there's peas huh?" The man's broad, stubbled face splits into a wide grin as Shardy grabs his hand and tows him through to the kitchen. "Peas on the plant you planted?"

"Peas on my plant, dad! I grewed them! Peas!"

As they pass through the kitchen, the answer to the question 'where's your brother' becomes obvious: a child perhaps three or so years older than Shardy is sitting at the kitchen table, elbow-deep in a box of cereal. They look up guiltily as the other two enter, but the older man simply winks at them and ruffles their hair briefly as Shardy fumbles with the back door.

"Dad! Come and see the peas!"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotchu, I'm comin'." The man follows his younger son out into the neat little vegetable patch that takes up most of their tiny courtyard garden. As he does, he looks up over the top of the back wall to where the ancient, crowded trees of the Glimwood Tangle proper press up against the edge of human settlement; they seem particularly close that day, somehow.

"DAD! PEEEEAAAAASSSSS!"

Shardy's earsplitting screech breaks whatever thoughts his father is harbouring, and the man shakes his head and smiles again.

Whatever it is, it doesn't matter just then. There are peas, after all.]

[renneiscent]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: When the spring comes...

I didn’t really date much in my life; I experienced deep interactions with some guys before but we never consider it as dating, I ghosted some, I left some, I kissed some. But no, I don’t really engage with any of them. Oh, wait… I used to date one back in my senior school. But it didn’t long last since in our 3 months of dating, I found him kissing my ex-best friend. Cliché, I know. Back then when I dated him, my brother was still staying near me so my ex didn’t have to try so hard to be gentleman and take me home. After all, he is not a gentleman at all.

So it’s hard to experience when a guy takes me home, in the middle of the night, especially when he knows my address really well and I’m living by my own self, with messy hair and tiring face, after we just had a kiss in our very first meeting.

“Thank you,” I say as returning his helmet to him, almost dropped it.

“What for?” he asks, purely confused, as if taking me back to home is the normal thing ever.

“For taking me home, for helping me back in the alley, for lending me some clothes… oh, shit, my clothes!” I almost yell. How could I even forget to leave my dirty clothes, my underwear?!

Athena will hate me even more.

“It’s alright,” he sits on the motorcycle, levelling his gaze with mine. “I will give it back tomorrow. If you are not comfortable with me touching your properties, I will ask for some help.”

“Tomorrow?” I raise my brows, shocked.

“Do you have plan tomorrow?” his tone sounds disappointed.

“No, it’s not that.” I cannot hide my smile. “Didn’t you say that I should forget about tonight?”

“Right,” he brushes his nape; his eyes are looking somewhere else but me. “Well, I still should give your clothes back… and stuffs.”

“And stuffs?” I’m amused.

“And stuff,” he looks at me.

My heart is pounding so hard as if it will explode any time. I have no clue about what is the reason for him to change his decision this sudden, but I’m grateful for it.  The idea about him disappears from me again after tonight’s encounter will drive me insane and I don’t want to make the scenario out of it. I don’t want to jinx it.

“Just so you know that I’m not a morning person,” I inform.

“I know,” his eyes sparkle.

“I should realise, you even know my address.” I smirk, arms crossed over my chest.

“I sincerely apologise, I didn’t mean to be that creepy stalker but—”

“And for exchange, I want your number.” I immediately cut him off as I grope my phone inside my purse, not even care with his expression right now.

He chuckles, “do you have paper and pen I can borrow?”

“Uhm… sure,” I immediately take my pocket size journal and pen out of my purse then give it to him without questioning his motive.

He writes something on it and then rips the paper out from the journal as he stands up from his position. He is taking few steps closer toward me. My face is just few inches with his chest. He leans down; his mouth is levelling with my ear as I can hear his breath, while his hand is moving through me. I’m baffled with what he is trying to do, but whatever it is managed to make me holding my breath.

And then I can feel some of his fingers on my butt, slipping the paper he’s been holding on the back pocket that I didn’t even realise it’s there. I gasp.

“Don’t save on your phone,” he whispers. “Memorise it, it’s not that hard.”

As he takes few steps back, I’m looking at him which I didn’t even realise that his thumb already on my lower lip—which I also didn’t realise that I’ve been biting it. He pulls it gently, makes me didn’t bite it any longer. Then his hand is reaching mine and handing me the pen and the journal.

“I will try,” my voice sounds weird. I clear my throat and repeat, “I will try.”

“Good,” he takes position on his motorcycle as he wears his helmet. “You better get inside and take some rest. See you tomorrow, MC.”

He turns the key in the on position and starts the engine, but I’m still standing there as if my legs are attached and becoming one with the ground. He takes a glance on me before riding that classic machine passing through the quiet and serene street, leaving me behind still watching him from afar. My eyes are looking fixated on him until it cannot catch his figure anymore.

“See you tomorrow, Jake.”

I managed to get inside my flat without waking up my landlord, his annoying cat, and other tenants. My legs run into my bed and without thinking twice, I jump on it, letting my face is drown on my soft and fluffy pillow. This is really happening. I finally met Jake after these years, I wrapped my arms around him, I KISSED him and he KISSED me. How many times? I didn’t even count. Wait, how do I even look when he kissed me?

I stand up from my position right away and head toward my dressing table, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I wince.

“Is that me!?” I point to myself. “Or is that you?!” I point at my reflection, I gasp; feeling like the reflection there is not mine. “The makeup is not that ruined, but still… I look horrendous.”

While questioning my existence, my brain is doing vicious work as it starts replaying the moment I met Jake and of course while it’s showing my own face while interacting with him. I grimace in pain.

“At least I didn’t say something stupid,” I take a pause. “Integrity?! Why did I say that?! Ugh!!”

I throw my body on the bed, hugging my pillow for it helps me relieving myself from the sudden stress. “This won’t do, I should prepare my skin for tomorrow. Oh, wait… what time is it?” I glance at my digital clock on the drawer. It shows half past 12. What time will we meet tomorrow?

My hand soon grabs the paper Jake put in the back pocket, there are some numbers written on it. I take my phone out from my purse, going to the message icon and then blankly stare at the screen. What should I say? I’m bewildered. Let’s just say something simple and casual. Yeah, that will do.

But what? What is that?

I take a deep breath, calming myself to not throw my phone. Am I this dumb?

MC: Hi MC: So, this is my number and you gave me yours. That’s why I can message you right now MC: In case you forgot about it

There is no reply… yet. He maybe is still riding his motorcycle or doing some errands. Probably. I don’t know. I should clean my face and put some mask. I’m turning up my phone’s volume until the highest so I can know when he replies my message. I put my phone on the drawer near my bed as I stand up to the bedroom. But what if I take a quick shower and didn’t listen to the notification?

So that’s why here I am, inside the bathroom, while taking quick shower, with my phone on the top of my bathroom’s cabinet. I’m so pathetic. I take off my clothes as I glance toward my phone. No message. I wash my body and my hair, still glance over the phone. No message. I brush my teeth and wash my face, I’m looking at my phone through the corner of my eyes. Nope, still no message. I wear my pyjamas and finally rest on my comfy bed, but still there is no message.

Ding!

UNKNOWN IS NOW ONLINE

UNKNOWN: Hello, MC. UNKNOWN: Haha. UNKNOWN: No, I won’t forget.

I almost scream. Never had I known that I will be able to see Jake writes for me again. It’s been so long to look at him calling my name through message. I want to scream. This is so thrilling.

UNKNOWN: Are you sleeping?

I guess I’m taking too much time for staring at my phone until I forgot to reply.

MC: Did you make it home safely? UNKNOWN: Yes, I did. MC: You better take some rest UNKNOWN: I will :)

That goddamn smiley face is back to town!

MC: Text me the place tomorrow UNKNOWN: Of course. MC: Good night Jake UNKNOWN: Good night, MC. UNKNOWN: See you tomorrow.

MC IS NOW OFFLINE

UNKNOWN IS NOW OFFLINE

I’m smiling from ear to ear while staring at my phone screen then to Jake’s hoodie that hanging on my standing hanger, with heart is still pounding out of excitement. I thought I have to move on and forget about Jake’s existence. Who knows that I will find him in the same city with me, bringing me to where he is living for now, letting him kissed me passionately, even having chance to spend more time with him tomorrow?

I anticipate whatever will happen tomorrow excitedly, my heart feels full. I’m replaying his feature on my brain; the soft hair as black as the night as if the heaven is spilling all their ink to paint it. The eyes as clear as the ocean as if when I take a deep closer, I might feel the beach’s breeze caress my face. The warmth of his hands and his body I’m yearning as if I’m the cat which is born to be sun-seeker.

And I can sense my feeling for him is growing bigger since that night.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Bangs- Kili Durin x OC

Kili Durin x Nessa Thorn

Description: Kili makes a horrible mistake during a game of truth or dare, now he has to go to Nessa to help him fix it.

Word Count: 1.9k

“Kili, truth or dare?”

Thorin’s Company had decided to stop in a town to restock and rest for a bit before continuing their journey to the Lonely Mountains. Thankfully, an inn had enough rooms (and kindness) for everyone to pair up for a few nights relatively cheaply. Almost instantly everyone went to their designated rooms and settled down for the night. After all they had to leave early in the morning to cover as much ground as they could the next day, they’d need all the sleep they could get. The two princes, Celeste, Bofur, Gemma, Bilbo and Pandora weren’t tired though, and had decided to entertain themselves by playing a game of truth or dare.

So far everyone had gone their turn except for Kili. Pandora had to sneak downstairs and steal some ale for everyone from the pub next door, Bofur had to drink a strange concoction made by Fili, Kili and Gemma, Fili had to jump into a lake just outside the inn fully clothed, Gemma had to steal one of Nori’s possessions (a form of payback from the thief), and Bilbo was forced to jump over a small fire that the others had set up outside.

Kili was the only one who hadn’t accepted a dare yet. It was his older brother that asked the dreaded question, but the younger Durin was never a quitter, nor would he allow himself to be considered one. Truth would be too easy of an answer at this point, so he had to say the obvious answer.

“Dare,” he responded with a proud look. The elder Durin wasn’t surprised by his answer, but he did take a minute to look around their room, trying to figure out how to get him. Finally he looked at his brother with a smirk.

“Cut yourself some pretty bangs.” Everyone was obviously surprised by his dare, and Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora glanced at the Prince nervously. Kili, however, would rather dishonor himself than turn down such a dare. He didn’t even think twice about it. Without a word he stood and walked over to his bag, grabbing a small knife from it.

“Kili, you don’t have to do this,” Bilbo called nervously.

“No one would blame you umraiê (my friend),” Gemma added in the same tone. Kili disregarded his friends’ words as he grabbed the front pieces of his hair.

Everyone watched with bated breath as he lifted the knife under the hair in his hand and, with several choppy slices, cut almost all of it off. The hair fell to the ground with finality as everyone watched, then they looked up at the youngest dwarf. He seemed to be realizing what he had just done because he was looking in a nearby mirror, examining the hair that now fell over his forehead, reaching just past his eyebrows. It was a hack job to say the least, the hair was uneven and awkwardly placed.

“Oh Aule (dwarvish ‘god’), what have I done,” he breathed out, staring at his reflection with wide eyes. Gods, the dwarves would never let him live this down he continued looking like this. No one knew what to say. Some of them (namely Gemma, Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora) were still in shock and others (namely Fili and Bofur) were trying not to show their amusement.

“Uh… Ki, do you want me to try and fix it?” Fili offered, using all his strength to not let a smile slip. His younger brother shook his head, still refusing to look at anyone.

“What room is Nessa in?” He questioned, voice wavering just enough for them to notice it. Fili looked at his fiance, as she was the elf’s roommate for the time being, and she offered Kili a sympathetic smile.

“Three doors to the right, do you want a key?” The boy shook his head and walked to the bedroom door.

“No, I’ll just knock. Hopefully she’ll still be awake,” he responded, opening the door before anyone could say anything and walking out. Just faintly, he could hear Bofu and Fili burst out laughing, finally succumbing to their amusement with the whole situation. He smiled internally as he heard Celeste and Gemma scolding them while he walked three doors down. It wasn’t until he was in front of her door that he paused. What if she was asleep? He didn’t want to wake her up? What if she said no to helping him? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard rustling around in the room. She was awake, thank Mahal (dwarves’ heaven basically). Before more doubts could enter his mind he lifted his hand and knocked softly on the door.

The rustling immediately stopped at the sound, then just a moment later the door opened. Nessa stood there, eyes widening as she attempted to process the sight before her. Kili couldn’t exactly blame her though. It was late and he showed up out of nowhere with a new and very choppy hairstyle and a desperate look on his face. He finally spoke up when she opened her mouth to question him.

“Fili dared me,” he explained miserably, fidgeting with his hands in front of him. “Can you help? Please?” The elf opened her mouth, then closed it, still in shock about the situation.

“Uh, are you sure Kili?” She questioned nervously. “I don’t want you to make a mistake asking me.”

Obviously after living with fifteen dwarves over the last few months, Nessa was bound to learn a few things. Dwarves, like elves, had courting customs that included dealing with hair. They both had the custom of braiding the person they’re courting’s hair as a sign of commitment to one another. Dwarves are a bit more severe about it. They don’t allow anyone who they aren’t kin nor courting/married to them to cut, style, or do anything to their hair, including fixing a mistake. And yes, technically they were courting already. They’d braided each other’s hair and Kili was working on courting beads for Nessa, but neither of them had the need to do something like this. Nessa wanted to make sure that he was 100% sure with his decision, not wanting either of them to face the wrath of the other dwarves in case he wasn’t.

“I would rather you do it than anyone else,” he responded earnestly. Nessa’s cheeks were dusted with a scarlet blush at his confession, and she nodded as she opened the door wider for him to step in.

“Come in and take a seat on the bed. I think I saw some shears in the bedside drawers,” she said, rifling through said drawers. Kili did as she said, closing the doors behind him and sitting on the edge of what he assumed was her bed.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, though he had heard her rustling around earlier.

“Oh, you didn’t,” she responded immediately, shooting him a reassuring grin. “I don’t need a lot of sleep.

“Ah, right, elf,” he mumbled as if just remembering that they were in fact different races while she continued to look. After a minute she finally found what she had been searching for and walked over to him.

“Now, bear in mind that I’ve never cut hair,” she started slowly, carding her free hand through his bangs absentmindedly. Kili tried not to sigh contentedly at the action and instead offered her a reassuring smile.

“I trust you Nessa,” he retorted, moving her hand away from his hair and holding it gently in his. With one more nod, the elf sighed and gingerly pulled away, bringing a section of his bangs between her index and middle fingers. She brought the shears up to his hair slowly, just in case the Prince ended up changing his mind. He didn’t though, and she finally began snipping off the uneven parts. Her movements were careful and vigilant, making sure that she wouldn’t make anything worse. Despite her slow speed, she finished rather quickly then brushed all the hair off his lap.

“It’s not the best, but I’d say it looks better than before,” she muttered softly as he stood and walked over to a mirror that looked exactly the same as the one in his room. He examined his new appearance, pursing his lips in thought. She was right, this was much better than before. To be fair though, the bar was pretty low. Either way he thought it looked amazing because she was the one to do it.

“It looks great, ibrizinlêkhê (my sunshine). What do you think?” He asked, finally looking at her once again. Nessa, who had been attempting to sweep the hair up with her hands to throw away, looked at him once more. She offered him a kind smile then reached for his hands, which he gladly held out for her to take.

“I think you look very handsome, elen nîn (my star),” she answered without a hint of hesitation in her tone. Kili smiled brightly then offered her a chaste kiss in thanks.

“Do you think it’ll be noticeable to the others?” He asked worriedly once they pulled away. The elf was once again there to calm his nerves.

“I doubt it. The only ones who will notice are the ones you were playing truth or dare with.” The dwarf sighed in relief then nodded with a small smile.

“Well, would you like to join our game?” He offered, gesturing to the door. Nessa hummed in thought, internally debating her options before ultimately nodding.

“Lead the way, elen nîn (my star).”

Kili, Nessa, Fili, Celeste, Bofur, Gemma, Bilbo and Pandora awoke the next morning in various places in Fili and Kili’s room. Kili and Nessa were in Kili’s bed, Fili and Celeste were in Fili’s bed and Bilbo, Pandora, Bofur and Gemma were all on the floor when Thorin knocked on the door, stating that they would be leaving the inn within the hour.

They had almost forgotten what happened the night before. The only clues they had to go off of were the tankards that previously had ale, Gemma hiding Nori’s pocket knife in her husband’s coat, the burnt hairs on Bilbo’s feet, Fili’s still wet clothes and, of course, Kili’s new bangs. He had to beg the others not to say anything about them just yet, and by some sort of miracle, they agreed. Nessa, Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora obviously had no problem with it, Kili was more worried about his brother and Bofur. Thankfully they kept their promise as everyone gathered in the lobby of the inn.

“Hey, has anyone seen my knife?” Nori questioned as Thorin took a headcount. Kili and Nessa snickered as Gemma subtly moved behind Bofur.

“Alright, everyone’s here,” Thorin announced, ignoring Nori’s question. “Move out, we have a long journey ahead of us.” The Company nodded and did as he said, filing out one by one (or two by two in Bilbo and Pandora’s case). Kili and Nessa were near the back of the line, but just as they reached the doorway Thorin put a hand out to stop them.

“Is something the matter, Uncle?” Kili questioned curiously, feeling Nessa, Fili, Celeste, Bofur and Gemma’s confused gazes on Thorin. Rather than answer at first, the King took a good long look at his youngest nephew, brows furrowing in thought.

“Have you always had bangs?” He finally asked. That made the group from last night all but burst into laughter as Kili stared at his uncle in horror.