#a RISEN could pop out of that water RIGHT NOW why am i IN A BIKINI

[sieglinde-freud]

i realize its because everyone else on the summer banner is a mythic unit/normal vaike isnt in the game yet but if inigos a tempest trial unit he should get to appear in the story and he just shows up at the beach full armor fuckass boots ON like “why is everyone wearing swimwear. i thought we were fighting.” and at the end hes like “huh. well it looks like everyones having fun, maybe i could join in…” BAM segue into summer banner part 2 lead unit summer inigo fire emblem coming at you with a steel pail. hire me intsys

[keepingupwithpotters]

If you’re taking prompts

“You’re really warm.” and

“Come back to bed. Please” for jily pls??

I am laughing at for jily like I'm capable of writing for anything else. I promise you, even if it is about two unrelated characters, I'll find a way to make it about jily

Also finally put the drabbles on ao3 as promised so you can read this there as well

Fretting over Lily Evans was nothing new for James, but this time might’ve put him to his early grave after all.

He touches her forehead discreetly, trying not to disturb her sleep. She went in and out of her slumber all night, giving him a scare half the time with her nonsensical mumblings. He doesn’t recall when exactly he fell asleep too, not long ago according to the rising sun, but that’s how he finds himself next to her now.

Blinking his eyes woozily, he gives himself permission for a moment of bliss before jumping into action, pretending they are lying side by side not because she is burning like a furnace, but like he always wakes up next to Lily, this hair tickling his shoulder not unusual.

He can only guess what prompted her to call him last night. A bitter part of him thinks it’s because she knew he would come running, no questions asked. It’s hard to ignore that part when that was exactly what he did, probably before he even hung up the phone. There is, of course, always the chance that it was the side effect of her running fever. One should not underestimate it, he learned that firsthand all through the night.

The pretense falls apart when he feels Lily’s skin, panic rising inside him all over again. He has spent the whole night trying to make sure her temperature didn’t pass 40 degrees, hand ready over his phone for the minute it did. It feels like it has risen again, her cheeks flaming bright to prove his insight right.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss my forehead?”

She startles him, with the question or her half open eyes smiling dozily at him, he doesn’t know.

“Why would I take advantage of the ill, Evans?”

Her smile gets softer, fonder. “That’s how my mom used to take my temperature.”

He’s never been able to say no to that smile.

She closes her eyes with the kiss, looking content and peaceful, not at all like the bedridden patient she is supposed to be. He lingers one second longer than necessary.

He has forgotten the purpose of the act until she looks at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

“You’re really warm.”

She doesn’t care for his furrowed brows or less than satisfactory explanation when she snuggles into him, purring, “Thank you, so are you.”

“That was not a compliment, Evans.” He tries to hide the fact his breath hitches when she burrows her face in his neck. “That means I am doing something very, very wrong. Are you sure you don’t want me to call anybody else?”

Her hold on him tightens even further if possible. She sounds like a petulant child when she whines her refusal. He can imagine, and feel, her pout.

He tries to untangle himself from her, but she looks so offended by his actions that he feels the need to explain himself. “I need to wet these rags again, and you need to eat some breakfast so you can take your antipyretics.”

She opens her mouth to say something, another refusal going by her displeased expression, but he jumps from the bed before she can tempt her more.

He goes to the bathroom first, thinking maybe some cool water would do him good too. She is already asleep by the time he comes back, hand reaching out to where he once laid on the bed. He places the damp clothes on her forehead with a grin, letting it take over his face while she is not able to see it. The pills he found when he rummaged through her medicine cabinet are put on her nightstand, waiting for his arrival with some food.

Preparing some eggs and toast helps him gather himself a little more, the habitual routine putting his brain on autopilot. The morning feels like something out of James’ dreams with Lily cuddling him in the bed and him making her breakfast, he finds it necessary to remind himself the true nature of the situation as he fills a glass of water for her.

She is awake when he enters the room, following his motions silently as he puts the plate on her side too. He is just about to sit on the chair by her bedside when she stops him with a hand on his arm.

“I promise I’ll eat something in a minute. Can you just… come back to bed? Please?”

His will already weakened since he woke up, he finds that it crumbles completely when he hears her voice so weak, tone so pleading. He lays down on his previous place without saying anything, her head finding his shoulder immediately.

A small hand traces patterns on his chest, nails tickling the heart underneath with every swoop. They could probably live in that relaxed bubble forever if the question nagging inside him just hadn’t popped out unexpectedly.

“Why did you call me yesterday, Lily?”

The finger drawing flowers, stars, and initials never stops its movement. “Because I had a high fever, and I didn’t want to go to the ER.”

“No. I mean, why did you call me?”

He holds his breath in anticipation of her answer, and she stills momentarily too before shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to be with you.” Her voice sounds so small. “I always want to be with you, you know that.”

There is relief ballooning inside him with her words, mixed with something he dares not name. He hums softly as a response, neither denying nor confirming her assumption.

“We can stay in bed for one more minute, then I’m gonna make you eat that breakfast, Evans.”

“Two, because you just took advantage of a sick person’s honesty and I deserve it.”

“Deal.”

He’ll let her pretend like he won’t do anything she asks for. They both know it’s a lie anyway.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one! 

Read previous chapters here!

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee

It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave. 

“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.” 

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”

“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”

You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.

“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you. 

You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh. 

“Where are you?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

“Off fucking the boss man?”

 “Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”

“Fucking slut.”

“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”

“This is ridiculous.’

“So you’re just running away?”

“Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You are so in for it when you get home.”

“I should have killed you.”

There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant. 

“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.” 

 He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.

You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

 “Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.

“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.  

“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up. 

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone. 

“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.

“Hotch--” 

 “Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face. 

“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”

“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked

“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”

“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” 

“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly. 

“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted. 

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.” 

“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion. 

“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”

Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall. 

“Come in,” you called.

“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” 

“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little. 

“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.

“Hotch…” You responded softly. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.

“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”

“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. 

“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.” 

“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.

“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.” 

“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.

“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly. 

“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.

“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered. 

“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up. 

“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.

“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded. 

“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you. 

“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.

“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke. 

“Good point.” She chuckled. 

“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her. 

“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU. 

“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately. 

“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.  

“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.

“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him. 

“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you. 

“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh. 

“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs. 

“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”

Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.

There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes. 

You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again. 

“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out. 

“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay. Your hand--”

“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen. 

“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer. 

“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head. 

“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it. 

“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles. 

“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it. 

“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you. 

“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?” 

“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?” 

‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly. 

“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m--”

“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?” 

“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.” 

“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”

“If you’re not up to it, we can--”

“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.” 

 The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest. 

“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”

“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist. 

“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up. 

“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle. 

“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile. 

“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.” 

Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.

You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment. 

“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly. 

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk. 

“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.

 “Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually.  At her pace, he reminded himself. 

“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats. 

“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile. 

“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly. 

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”

He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”

“Hotch, I’m---”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.” 

You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. 

[kpop-zone]

Twice reaction to their s/o flirting with them post wisdom teeth removal

A raspy groan automatically escaped your mouth once you slowly felt yourself regaining some consciousness. You’ve had one hell of a dream. It even almost felt like you were physically able to feel its effects. Your whole face felt numb and your eyelids were heavier than ever. Maybe you should get some more sleep?

“Y/N?”

The sound of someone calling your name, however, interfered with your plan as your urge to see the face to this angelic voice was bigger than your desire to fall back asleep. With difficulty, you opened your eyes, feeling how the bright light seemingly burned your retina. After blinking a few times though, the silhouette of a person leaning over you became clearer and clearer until you were able to admire her beautiful face.

“Whoa.”

Once again, your mouth was faster than your brain and you gasped in awe. Were you still dreaming?

“Is this a dream?”

You asked dumbfounded while staring at the woman in front of you.

“No, Y/N. You’re in a dental clinic.”

The woman giggled in amusement and you hummed pensively. That would explain why your face felt like it didn’t belong to your body. It didn’t explain though why the most stunning human being on this planet was watching over you right now.

“If all the nurses in here look as pretty as you, this must be heaven?”

You probed bluntly, not knowing where this sudden confidence was coming from, but knowing that you had to try everything to keep this enchantress by your side.

Nayeon

Nayeon stared at you dumbfounded for a second before bursting in laugher. The nurse had warned her that you could need a while to regain consciousness, but she hadn’t expected you to turn into another person.

“What’s so funny?”

You mumbled, having difficulty to open your mouth.

“Are you really trying to flirt with me?”

Nayeon choked out between laughter and you pouted sulkily.

“Why not? I’m a bit battered right now, but I’ll bounce back in no time and then I’ll take good care of you. A girl like you deserves someone who is willing to give you the world!”

It was a little hard to understand you, but you didn’t fail to transmit the sincerity of your words, causing Nayeon to pull herself together. She admired your determination, so she decided to play along.

“Do you really think you can pull someone like me?”

She smirked while sitting down on the edge of your bed and leaning forward in order to reduce the space between the two of you. Nervously, you gulped, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but then you nodded slowly, managing to make Nayeon grin. Who would have thought that you could be so flirtatious?

“Well then I hope you’re going to keep your word.”

She whispered before pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek, knowing that her gesture would probably give you a heart attack. You needed to know though that she was the bigger flirt in your relationship...

Jeongyeon

“What?”

Jeongyeon asked while staring at you in confusion, wondering whether she had misheard your mumbling.

“I’ve said that this is my first time meeting an angel.”

You slurred while grinning proudly, causing Jeongyeon to scoff in disbelief. Where you really trying to woo her right now? With cheesy pickup lines? Not being able to contain herself any longer, she cracked up and doubled up with laughter.

“Oh my god, Y/N. I’ve always known that you are an idiot. But wow, you’ve really managed to outdo yourself this time.”

She sighed once she had calmed down a bit and you screwed up your face in confusion.

“Do we know each other?”

You stuttered, looking like a helpless, disoriented puppy, causing Jeongyeon’s expression to change in an instant. Suddenly, she felt bad for you, so she looked at you fondly with a smile playing on her lips.

“We sure do. But don’t worry about that now, you’ll soon feel like yourself again. I’ll get you some water, maybe that’ll help you to wake up. Don’t move, Casanova.”

She warned you jokingly before leaving the room to get you something refreshing to drink. In her mind, your cheesy pick-up line still played on repeat and she giggled to herself as she walked down the corridor to the water dispenser. She would make sure that you wouldn’t forget about this incident that quickly.

Momo

“Hold up...what did Y/N just say?”

Nayeon asked from somewhere behind Momo, the mockery clearly audible in her voice, but Momo couldn’t manage to avert her gaze from you. A blush had risen to her cheeks and she shyly smiled to herself. She didn’t know why she was reacting like this, after all the two of you had been dating for years already, but somehow you were still able to flatter her with ease.

“Y/N...”

Momo giggled while slapping your arm lightly, causing you to smirk, obviously pleased with her reaction.

“Don’t be shy. Your blush makes you look even more beautiful. Red really is your color.”

You winked, causing Sana and Nayeon to burst into loud laughter, making Momo’s blush turn into an even darker shade of red.

“Now I know how Y/N was able to woo you so fast.”

Nayeon snickered and Momo shyly looked to the floor.

“Shut up...”

She mumbled in embarrassment, but Nayeon only smirked. Her eyes glinted mischievously, and it seemed like she was just getting ready to tease Momo some more, but before she had the chance to, you suddenly piped up again.

“Wait what?! I already wooed you?”

You gasped in shock, managing to make Momo laugh.

“Yes, Y/N.”

She stated before burying her face in the crook of your neck in hopes to hide the blush that was still glowing brightly on her cheeks. She wasn’t so sure who would be more embarrassed after today...you or her?

Sana

Sana giggled happily when she heard such a flirtatious remark coming from you. Usually, you always made fun of her penchant for cheesy things. But today the roles seemed to be reversed.

“Heaven? What does that make me then?”

She asked with one eyebrow raised, hoping to see more of this sweet side of yours.

“The angel of my sweetest dreams.”

You grinned dazed, causing Sana to laugh loudly.

“Ah Y/N, you are so adorable!”

She squealed before gently cupping your face, having to resist the urge to squeeze your cheeks.

“Please...have you looked into the mirror today? Your face is the peak of adorableness.”

You retorted and Sana blushed shyly. She wasn’t used to you being such a flirt.

“Stop, Y/N... you’re making me flustered. Don’t you know that you don’t need to win my heart? It’s already yours.”

She smiled before intertwining your fingers, managing to leave you speechless. Amused, she guided your hand to her lips and kissed your knuckles. You didn’t seem to have expected your advances to be successful and stared at her with an open mouth, causing Sana to giggle smugly.

“Good, so my charms are still working too.”

Jihyo

For a second, Jihyo was taken aback by your bluntness, but then she figured that you were probably still high on your anesthesia. Amused, she chuckled while leaning closer to you.

“Heaven? Is that so?”

She asked rhetorically and you immediately nodded your head vigorously, causing her to surge forward to steady your head. The doctor had told you to avoid rapid movements like this today.

“Your eyes are so beautiful. I swear if they keep shining like that, the sun has to find another galaxy...”

You mumbled mesmerized while staring deeply into her eyes as if you were hypnotized. One compliment after the other gushed out of you until one of the cotton rolls that was supposed to stop the bleeding in your mouth fell out, causing Jihyo to gasp. She had to shut you up somehow...

“I will kiss you if you manage to be quiet for fifteen minutes.”

She blurted out and your eyes almost popped out of your head in shock. Nevertheless, you weren’t shy to agree to her proposition.

“Everything you want.”

You mumbled instantly and Jihyo giggled to herself.

She wouldn’t have deemed it possible for you to be even more whipped for her than usual. But she wasn’t complaining...

Mina

“Nurse? Don’t you know who I am?”

Mina asked, not knowing whether she should be amused or concerned.

“Do we know each other?”

You replied puzzled, causing her to chuckle shyly.

“Yes we do. I brought you here with Sana. Don’t you remember?”

She smiled softly before pointing at Sana who had kept her company while waiting for you to wake up. Neither of their faces seemed to be familiar to you though and you only looked at her apologetically.

“No, I don’t. I’m incredibly sorry. A pretty and kind person like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. Maybe I can make it up to you some time? And invite you for dinner?”

You suddenly grinned cheekily, causing Mina’s jaw to drop. Embarrassed, she started to blush and looked at Sana.

“Did Y/N just ask you out?”

The older asked dumbfounded although she seemed to be visibly amused.

“Yes, I did or are the two of you dating?”

You sounded seriously worried and Mina could see by the smirk on Sana’s face that she had some mischievous plan, but Mina wouldn’t allow one of her members to tease you in your miserable state today.

“No, we’re not. I would love to go out with you.”

She blurted out and you smiled widely, making her blush even more. Hopefully, you would soon regain your full consciousness again because she didn’t know if she could bear any more of your flirting.

Dahyun

Dahyun raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Were you challenging her? Did you really think that you could beat her at her own game? You were clearly not in your right mind yet; cheesy pickup lines were her expertise after all.

“It must be! Because I’m standing in front of an angel right now!”

She gasped exaggerated before smirking when she saw your puzzled expression.

“I can’t believe that worked...”

You stuttered surprised by the success of your pick-up line, causing Dahyun to laugh in amusement.

“I was simply defenseless against your charms...”

She sighed as she sat down on the edge of your bed and you stared at her speechlessly.

“What now? Will you take me out for dinner?”

Dahyun groaned impatiently when you didn’t manage to utter single word in order to tease you and your eyes widened in shock.

“Yes, yes of course!”

You exclaimed panicked while trying to sit up, but Dahyun was quick to stop you.

“I was just joking, Y/N! Please lay down. You can take me out on a date some other time.”

She giggled while pushing you down with force, panicked that your wound would open again if you would put too much pressure on it.

“Promise?”

You asked with a pout on your lips, making it hard for Dahyun to hide her amusement. But she drew a serious expression and held out her hand for you to shake.

“Promise.”

She stated soberly as if you were wrapping up a business deal and you shook her hand while a big grin spread on your face.

“This is the best day ever!”

You cheered and Dahyun scoffed. Hopefully you would still remember your invitation when you weren’t high anymore.

Chaeyoung

“Nurse?”

Chaeyoung chuckled in amusement once she realized that you were still high as a kite and the smirk on your lips faltered.

“You are my nurse right?”

You mumbled, having difficulty to keep the cotton rolls in your mouth.

“Do I look like your nurse?”

Chaeyoung laughed while pointing at her baggy jeans and knitted cardigan, causing you to study her outfit intensely before realizing your mistake.

“Who are you then? Oh and are you single?”

You asked bluntly and Chaeyoung needed to hold her belly that was starting to hurt from giggling too much. She couldn’t believe how different you were from your usual self. This was a great form of entertainment for her though...

“I am not.”

She replied to tease you and you creased your face in annoyance.

“Such a shame...Is your partner treating you well? Because I can guarantee you that I would fulfill your every wish.”

You didn’t seem to want to accept your defeat and Chaeyoung shook her head in amusement. Your persistence was charming; she had to give you that.

“Well that is true, you do that.”

She smiled after deciding to stop teasing you and you frowned in confusion. She didn’t feel like explaining you your whole life story though, so she simply plopped down on the chair next to your bed and winked at you cheekily.

“Rest a bit now, jagi. Everything will soon make sense again.”

Tzuyu

“I-I’m not your nurse.”

Tzuyu stuttered shyly after you had managed to make her blush with your sudden advances.

“You aren’t?”

You asked dumbfounded and Tzuyu shook her head slowly.

“No, I’m um...”

She looked around as if she was about to spill a secret before clearing her throat.

“I’m your girlfriend.”

As soon as her word had left her lips, your jaw dropped, causing Tzuyu to wince. You weren’t even supposed to talk. She was sure that opening your mouth that far couldn’t be good for you.

“My girlfriend?? How did I manage to pull a goddess like you??”

You yelled and Tzuyu quickly stumbled forward to press a finger on your lips to shut you up. Embarrassed she looked at the door, expecting a nurse to appear any second in order to scold you for your loud behavior. But to her delight, the two of you remained the only persons in the room, so she removed her hand from your face again while avoiding your gaze shyly.

“Yes, I am your girlfriend.”

She repeated herself and you gaped in awe.

“Really? Because this is simply too good to be true. If this is just a prank, it’s not funny. My heart is literally jumping out of my chest right now.”

You looked at her suspiciously and Tzuyu had to smile because of your adorableness.

“Really.”

She assured you before reaching for your hand to give it a light squeeze. Finally, you seemed to believe her words and you started beaming from one ear to the other.

“I’m the luckiest living being on this planet!”

You yelled once more and Tzuyu buried her face in her hand in defeat. Hopefully, you would soon go back to your normal self, because she had no idea how to keep you in check right now...

[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues

oh, deer

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none for this chapter, vague foreshadowing

ship: dousy (daisy johnson x daniel sousa), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

heyyyyy…. yes i posted it early on Ao3

howeverrr you guys are gonna like this chapter. i just feel it in my bones (bc its fluffy and the angst starts kicking in in the next one)

“You look like Rudolph, Daisy,” Elena greeted.

Daisy took a large swig of coffee, rolling her eyes but smirking. The pair were walking together to Elena’s first class after a tough early-morning spar.

“You’re the one who punched me where I already had a bruise,” Daisy shot back.

“Hey, I already told you I was aiming for the jaw. It’s not my fault you didn’t duck quick enough.”

They laughed as Elena swiped her key card to the comms building. Daisy held the door for Elena, shoving her lightly in the back as she passed.

“Hey!”

“Not my fault you can’t see backwards,” Daisy teased.

It was Elena’s turn to roll her eyes and laugh, slowing to a stop outside May’s lecture room.

“Right. Wish me luck, I heard May was giving a pop quiz today,” Elena grimaced.

“You don’t need any luck. I’ll see ya, Elena,” Daisy replied.

“Yeah, you will!” Elena said, backing into May’s large lecture room.

Daisy watched her wave and sit down with a group of third-years, her perfect french braids swishing behind her, before turning around. Daisy didn’t have a moment to think about where she was going before she ran into a solid wall.

Daisy looked up into a pair of dark chocolate eyes, crinkled at the edges with a small smile. The wall’s hair was ruffled, as if he had just gotten out of bed. He wore black SHIELD sweats and a white t-shirt. The wall was very attractive. She vaguely registered the smattering of books on the ground, her mind more focused on his hands on her shoulders.

“Daisy, are you okay?”

She must have been staring for too long. “Yeah, I’m good! Great! Sorry, Sousa,” she apologized, quickly bending over to pick up his books. She almost dropped them again when his hand brushed hers while she handed the thick textbooks back. She gave him a quick smile, taking a deep breath to compose herself, reciting her affirmations. I am Daisy Johnson. I am an Agent of SHIELD. I can move the Earth. I am powerful. I am in control of myself.

Daniel’s smile grew a bit when he heard Daisy laughing quietly to herself.

“I guess you could say I really swept you off your feet.”

Daniel chuckled at the quip, his hands still on her shoulders. “Yeah. Foot,” Daniel corrected. Daisy furrowed her brows, but ignored the strange comment.

“Right. Well, the bell—” Daisy was cut off by a long, high-pitched bell. She closed her eyes tight, the blaring alarm causing tiny vibrations to travel through her skull. When she opened them, Daniel was still standing in front of her, white tee and black sweats and messy morning hair encouraging just a bit more flirting before he had to leave.

“Wow, look at you. Late! I’m a bad influence on you, Danny.”

Daniel shrugged, glancing at his watch. “S’not the first time,” he murmured lowly, stepping away and giving her a last look before he disappeared into the classroom.

Daisy pretended not to notice her heart rate had risen from it’s usual sixty beats-per-minute to seventy-six beats-per-minute.

Daisy spent the rest of the day absentmindedly completing work in her classes. For some reason, flirting with Daniel felt… different than it had with her exes. Even her exes in SHIELD. Daniel was grounded. He had a calm presence. Being late didn’t phase him in the slightest; Daisy would have internally berated herself for the rest of the day.

She was finishing a short answer assignment from International Law and SHIELD Policy while stretching on the outdoor training grounds when she saw him again: still in sweats despite the heat. He was still walking with same, familiar limp. Then it clicked—’Foot’; the throwaway comment from earlier made much more sense now. He had a prosthetic. Before she could think anymore about that revelation, May called the Ops trainees to gather around her under a giant maple tree. Daisy was the last to get up, hanging towards the back as usual.

“Ops training, eh?”

Sousa turned to Daisy standing beside him, breaking his focus on May to turn to her. “Yeah. I used to be military, remember? 28th Infantry Recon Scout. I figure I’ve got to get at least near the level I used to be before I can go in the field.”

Daisy nodded, her hair caught in a slight breeze. “As long as you don’t steal my crown as the Queen of Spar, Master of Field Ops Physical Training.”

Daniel chuckled quietly, turning his attention back to May, who was explaining today’s exercises.

“Partners,” Daisy breathed. Daisy hated partners, unless it was May. She’d rather condition. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the other trainees, they were great people! But her nerves got the better of her and she ended up holding back, not helping herself or her partner. She knew how to control her powers, how to keep herself from using them while sparring. Whispers of doubt and guilt still invaded, fogging her mind like deadly mist.

You could kill them. It’s happened before…

She was taken back to the moment by Daniel tapping her shoulder. “Partners?”

Daisy reluctantly nodded and motioned to him to follow her over to a thick pad of grass next to a small willow tree.

“So, what exactly are we supposed to be doing? It’s Tuesday, which is usually a mix of breathing and nerve control and focusing on technique, rather than strength.”

Daniel glanced over at the other partners, who were all going through defensive and offensive stances slowly, like tai chi, he thought.

Daisy walked closer to where he had stopped beside the willow, pointing out a pair of partners moving almost in sync.

“They’re focusing on how their breathing can help their fighting. Mentally and physically. If you’re nervous, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and then your body gets sloppy. If you aren’t breathing, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and your body gets sloppy. Breath can make a punch more powerful and a kick more accurate, if you know how to use it. I’ll show you the moves.”

Defensive, offensive, block, strike, block, kick. Daisy continued in a cycle until Sousa could mirror her movements with little effort.

Daisy stopped him then. “Great! You’re a quick learner,” She winked, smiling wide.

Daniel smiled back, “So how do I do the breathing thing?”

Daisy pondered how to explain it for a second. “You have to flow, like water. You control your breathing, you have the power. But at the same time, you have to let the air flow naturally. The moves will align with your breath, don’t force it.”

Daniel nodded, and they were off. It took a minute to get into the groove, but once he did, it felt effortless. Every kick, block, inhale and turn, exhale and strike came naturally. It gave him the opportunity to study Daisy.

Usually, especially in the early mornings in the computer lab, Daisy looked tired. Her brows were drawn slightly, fingers fidgeting, knee bouncing. In the halls she walked briskly and adjusted her bag or checked her watch often, a small tic she didn’t seem to notice. Right now, though, breeze across her olive skin, Daisy looked cool as water.

She felt the earth beneath her. The trees and grass and flowers in the wind. She tuned in to the radio of her surroundings, letting her muscle memory guide her. The forest was really loud. The concrete buildings had a sort of buzz, too. They mixed in her bones like the sounds of a great symphony, low rumbles and high-pitched chittering and long, constant notes that provided a harmony to the undulating melody. The frequencies of each living and non-living thing in the area seemed to be flowing around her, steady.

Daniel softly stared at her as she moved through the flow with him. She was very good at this. He was having a bit of trouble, though he doubted he would be having this much trouble if it wasn't Daisy right in front of him. For an exercise designed to relax them, wasn’t it counterintuitive to partner with the girl that made his heart skip a beat when she smiled?

When May clapped her hands and signaled the end of the session, the tired, sweaty kids gathered around May’s oak tree. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, bringing a glow to each of their faces. Daisy looked radiant.

“Class is dismissed. Tomorrow, we’re conditioning,” May warned. In a quieter voice, May called, “Daisy, can you hang for a second?”

Daisy stepped away from her bag and towards May. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I have a question for you. Would you mind giving up your free period three times a week?”

Daisy’s eyebrows raised, no classes that she knew of only took place three times a week. “I want to say yes, but I’d also like to know why?”

“Fair. Top brass called. If you want to be a field agent with powers, you’ve got to practice fighting with them, get comfortable with them. I know everything that happened with Lincoln…” May paused, gauging Daisy’s reaction. When there wasn’t any, May continued. “Your powers didn’t make you an agent, I did.”

May paused, giving Daisy a chance to settle her thoughts before adding, “But I think this is important.”

Daisy slowly nodded. If this was important to May, then Daisy had no problems giving up her free period.

“Who will I train with?” she asked.

May smiled. “Meet Yo-Yo and I behind the garage at seven sharp tomorrow morning.΅

Daisy saluted playfully, wandering to her bag and walking in the direction the other students had gone. She could see them filtering into the cafeteria. A smoothie sounded nice…

The canteen was full of students grabbing plates of chicken and veggie tacos. Daisy was always happy during dinner on taco Tuesday. She grabbed her plate and a small green juice and searched for a familiar pair of heads, warm brown eyes and freckles sitting next to dirty blonde curls.

As she approached, two hands went up, waving. Weaving her way through students, she saw Fitz pat the seat beside him.

“Oi, Dais! I've got something to show you!”

Daisy sat down, her attention drawn to the tiny device on the table in front of her. It was small enough to fit in her hand, but surprisingly heavy for its size. Multiple coloured wires stuck out from various surfaces. Fitz was grinning at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He pressed a button on a small remote that sat on the table. Daisy looked over at Jemma, puzzled. Was something supposed to be happening?

Daisy glanced down at her hand. There was nothing there but a constant weight.

“Fitz! You replicated cloaking!”

Jemma and Fitz immediately shushed her, looking around. “He wasn’t supposed to! It’s above his ‘level’. Professor Weaver practically forbid him.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. This was very Fitz. Tell him he can’t, and he will, just to prove it to himself. Holding it up to eye level and moving it around, Daisy marveled at the seamless invisibility. “What are you gonna do with it?”

Fitz shrugged. He began to explain a number of uses for the device, along with the technical modifications he’d have to make for them to work. She tuned out after Jemma exasperatedly told him they couldn’t train monkeys to be invisible recon scouts.

Her plan to learn something from Fitzsimmons banter was derailed when Daisy noticed a shadow at the corner of her eye. It slipped away as quickly as it came, around the corner of the cafeteria and out of sight.

Why was she getting déjà vu?

“Dais, you alright there?” Fitz asked quietly.

Daisy turned back to him, smiling. “Yeah, I thought I saw something. Probably just tired.”

The sandy blonde boy laughed, “S’only Tuesday, Dais. We’ve got a whole week ahead of us!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ve got six tests this week!” Simmons countered.

Daisy’s mouth opened in surprise, quickly shut when Fitz made a comment about catching flies. “Wait, so you aren’t excited for the tests?”

Jemma shook her head miserably, her amber eyes rolling. “No. Usually I would be, it’s so odd! But I was studying the other night and reviewing old tests, and my chest felt so heavy and my head started spinning—”

Fitz stopped her by putting his hand over hers, gently reassuring her. Watching the two, Daisy thought her heart might burst, a bubbly feeling rising in her chest.

Jemma turned back to her, considerably less distressed.

“Do you want some help studying?” Daisy offered.

Jemma nodded. “Tonight, 8, the rooftop?”

The group nodded.

At eight o’clock, Daisy carefully climbed out her window and around the corner to the fire escape. The stairs whispered and creaked with the wind, but you would never know anyone was climbing the iron to the roof unless you ran directly into her.

She arrived at the last landing, one floor above her own, and crouched down. She jumped, using small quakes as a make-shift propulsor. Jemma turned her head towards the soft thump of Daisy landing on the roof.

The space was decorated with a jungle of potted plants and fairy lights strung around the ledge, mix-matched multicoloured and shades of white. They cast a warm glow across the spread of notes and textbooks neatly placed in front of Jemma. Daisy approached, pulling out her laptop and a pouch of pens, pencils, highlighters, and white-out.

“Ready for our study date?”

Jemma smiled. “Yes. Fitz should be here any minute.”

The two girls got comfortable, beginning to go over notes and chat idly. Daisy wrote down vocab and key ideas on note cards and organised them by subject. Jemma laughed loudly when Daisy expressed her confusion at the difference between the three biochemistries that she was taking. Suddenly, loud clanging was heard from the side of the building.

“Daisy! Jems!”

The two girls shared a glance at the panicked voice. Fitz.

They rushed over to where he would be coming onto the iron landing, grabbing his hand and helping him over the concrete barrier onto the roof.

Fitz supported himself on his knees, panting. “There's a guy down there. Creepy bastard.”

Jemma and Daisy shared another glance, this one full of concern and trepidation.

Fitz pointed to Daisy. “Askin’ about you, Dais. Your…” Fitz trailed off, drawing waves in the air with his hand.

Jemma rested a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Go check it out, we’ll be here when you get back.”

Daisy reluctantly jumped onto the metal landing below, resisting the urge to use her powers to cushion her landing. She quickly checked the perimeter of the dorm, then wandered closer to the forest that backed up to the dorms.

If only she had night vision as well as the power to create earthquakes.

A subtle movement caught her eye, a dark silhouette shifting in between the trees. A haze of clouds covered the moon, making the forest darker than usual. Daisy stepped forward slowly, her breath speeding up.

The air seemed electric, the few clouds in the sky bloodred with the remaining rays of sunset. The tall pines and thick oaks were silhouetted black against the sky, branches seeming to reach out to grab the twilight shadows. Daisy threw a quick glance over her shoulder, letting out a relieved exhale when she saw Fitz and Jemma watching over her from the roof.

A twig snapped right in front of Daisy, the treeline only twenty feet away. Daisy felt the echo bounce around the forest. She took a deep breath, steadying her hands and lungs. Something, someone, was right on the other side of those bushes…

“AAGH!”

A deer leapt out of the brush, landing right in front of her. Its large doe eyes stared at her, ears back. It was just a fawn.

Daisy slowly let out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms from where they had come up in front of her. She snorted.

“You’re just a baby. What are you doing in the bushes by yourself?”

Daisy tentatively reached out, the fawn showed no signs of moving. She opened her palm, letting the deer sniff before it bounded away across the field.

Daisy sighed. She felt something was off, like you would the moment before you were struck by lightning. Like any second, something else would pop out of the forest, this time a real threat…

Silence.

Stillness.

Daisy sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. I just need sleep. If the paranoia has set in, I definitely need sleep.

Daisy headed back to the dorms, the feeling of eyes on her following until she was safely on the roof with her friends.

The twinkling fairy lights lit the rest of their evening, shadows and deer forgotten in the warmth of laughs and starlight.

[detectivehannibal]

31 Weeks

—

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @chuuulip​ 

Word Count: 1,153

“I see you found my secret stash,”

—

A groan echoed off of the walls as you moved through the house, waddling like a penguin along the way. This was the most casual you had been in a long time, considering your jeans and buttoned pants didn’t fit anymore. For now, elastic band sweatpants and t-shirts would have to suffice. You had been given strict instructions to lay low at home until it was time for your baby to be introduced to the world.

So, here you were. 31 weeks pregnant, in the middle of the night, and somewhat miserable. Your back ached, your belly was extremely risen, your feet were swollen, and you were so HUNGRY. It was apparently a myth that pregnant women actually had to eat more, but you were convinced your appetite had doubled in the last several months.

Hannibal was being very supportive during this, waiting on you hand and foot for your every need. He was sure you were getting the right nutrients to be supplementing a healthy and happy baby. He was so beyond ecstatic to have a little one on the way. While your developing tot wasn’t exactly planned, Hannibal was still over the moon that you were pregnant.

He was very careful and cautious of what foods he put into his body and it had sort of rubbed off on you in 3 years of dating and 2 years of marriage. He was sure you were getting the right nutrients to be supplementing your healthy and happy baby. Still, pregnancy had proven a challenge for you because you had a craving for things you hadn’t eaten since you were a kid.

It was 12:01 AM on a Friday night and your unborn child was kicking like crazy. It was impossible to get any shuteye with two human feet whacking inside you, so you decided to pad downstairs until the kicks slowed. You had one hand on your lower back and the other on your belly as you entered the kitchen with a sigh. Although this pregnancy was exhausting at times, you were loving every minute of it. How could a mother not enjoy the precious moments of their growing kid?

You flipped on the light switch in the kitchen, the hum of the lights illuminating the room. Normally, you never went through any of the cabinets, drawers, or anything in the kitchen. Hannibal didn’t even let you in the kitchen while he cooked until you were married. However, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to rummage around on the off chance he had some snacks laying around. Your chances were slim, but you decided it was worth a look.

You searched past salt shakers, breads, fruits, vegetables...then low and behold you saw a sight you never thought you’d lay eyes on in the Lecter household. You took the unopened, paper-like package in your hands and stared at it for a few seconds. It didn’t even feel real. Why the hell did Hannibal Lecter, master of fine culinary arts, have Goldfish crackers in his pantry?

Your mouth watered as you raked over the cartoonish image on the bag. You tore and peeled the bag open, the foil on the inside was just as it was when you were younger. You reached into the bag and popped a few in your mouth. Why were these the most delicious things you had ever tasted in your entire life? There wasn’t much to Goldfish. You could eat 40 of them and not even feel remotely satisfied. Your snacking paused at the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway.

You looked up to see Hannibal standing there rather stone-faced but with an amused look in his eyes. You felt like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar...or the goldfish bag for that matter. You looked down briefly and then back to him;

“Hi,” You said quietly.

“Hello,” He replied with a grogginess to his tone; “I see you found my secret stash,”

Your eyes widened and you turned back to the cabinet where you had found your golden ticket snack;

“You have a stash?” You asked wondering what other sort of things he might’ve had.

He only smiled and approached you at the counter, closing the cabinet in the process;

“How’s our little girl doing in there?” He asked motioning towards your belly.

You took his hand and placed it on your bump so he could feel just how active your little one tended to be at night.

“She’s kicking,” He announced.

“Like a soccer player,” You added.

“It’s a good thing. It means she’s healthy and responsive,” He stated matter-of-factly; “I presume you gave in to typical pregnancy cravings?” He asked turning his attention.

You huffed out loud, thinking you were about to get lectured on healthy nutritious eating for you and the baby;

“Hannibal, I haven’t had one single bad food this entire pregnancy. I’ve ignored crazy cravings for seven months,” You said beginning to rant; “I’ve been consuming all my vegetables, fruits, prenatal vitamins, and that weird milk thing my doctor wants me to drink,”

A chuckle bubbled out of Hannibal’s chest. Maybe he had been pushing this nutrition thing a little too hard. He didn’t mean to stress you out or make you unhappy. He just wanted to be sure that you and the baby would be healthy at the end of your third trimester. After all, a few little snacks never hurt anyone. He took the bag from you, taking a handful of them himself. You looked at him in shock;

“I must say this is something I never thought I’d live to see,” You proclaimed.

It was obvious that even the fine and fit Hannibal Lecter had a taste for America’s favorite snack time fish;

“Actually, they’re often used as an accompany for various winter soups,” He said with confidence; “Also, everybody has their own favorite guilty pleasure delicacy,”

You hummed in affirmation, suddenly not feeling so bad about raiding his kitchen anymore. This was an odd scenario. Just you and Hannibal (as well as your daughter you were carrying) in the middle of the night doing nothing other than supplying a wanted desire. Who would’ve thought? Before long, the feeling of little baby feet going at it stopped for the time being, your call to get some sleep before she started back again.

“I think our spontaneous snack time is over.” You admitted, feeling slumber quickly approaching.

Hannibal nodded, closing what was left of the Goldfish and placing it back in the cabinet. He kissed your temple and ushered you along out of the kitchen and back to bed. After all, along with proper nutrients, a good night of sleep was also beneficial. For as long as you had another life to take care of and provide for, Hannibal would be there to help and guide you.

For how ever long it might be.

[plush-rabbit]

Praise Thy Master

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: I think this is my first time writing a dom reader so I hope I did well!!

You sit in silence at a cafe, your grapefruit bubble tea sat in front of you stands perfectly still. Your legs are crossed under the table as you scroll through your phone, drink half empty and mask pulled tight against your face. You pull your mask and slip the straw underneath, popping a pomegranate bubble between your tongue and roof of your mouth. A chair across the room squeaks and you let out a sigh. When you look up, no one is staring at you, eyes focused on anyone but you. You lean back into your seat and hook your purse across your shoulder. You grab your drink, the water that has formed on it wets your hands and you click your tongue. You stand from your table and make your way across the shop. Your steps are quick and light, and reaching upon a table where a lone man sits, you take the seat across.

The man jerks in attention and stares at you, eyes glancing around the room and hands forming into fists. “I-”

“You know it’s rude to stare right?” You roll your eyes and gently swing your legs under the table. “I mean, come on. It’s one of the few days I have off and all I wanted was to enjoy some tea but instead,” your voice raises in pitch and you tilt your head, “I have some stalker come and show up here. I mean is no place safe from you? And you,” you chuckle and shake your head, “you’re-” you point a finger at him- “unrelenting. I mean, how long has it been? Couple months, no? I gotta give you props for it. You know so much about me- things that aren’t even available online. And all the stuff you give me? I have to admit, they’re preferable compared to other gifts. I mean- all those little trinkets that you leave me? The cream? Smells lovely.” You tilt your head and the man sits in silence, perfectly still, as if the need for movement is gone. “It kind of reminds me of a cat, you know? When they leave presents for their masters.” You smile underneath your mask and your legs come to a still. “So kitty,” you purr, your leg coming up and brushing against his,”you coming to my show tonight?” Your leg stretches high, brushing against his leg.

The chair makes an awful, high pitched screeching sound and the drink nearly topples over until you grasp it, your legs coming down to the floor. You pout and shake your head. You pinch your mask and take a sip from his drink. “Mm, peach.” You bat your eyes at him and stand from the seat gracefully. Your hand meets his shoulders and you spare him a glance. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

-

“Great performance as always!” The man in front of you shakes your gloved hand and you smile widely at him. “When you sing, it’s- it’s like I could feel the love you give to all your fans!”

“Oh!” You giggle and clasp your other hand above your fan. “Thank you so much! You know I wouldn’t be anywhere without you as my fan!” You give him a head tilt and quirk your lips.

“I really do love-”

A sweet ringing sound fills your ears and you slip your hands out of the male’s grip and you lean back against the metal chair. “Oh,” you pout. “Looks like we ran out of time. I’ll see you next time, right?” You nod your head as you say your words, beaming as the man that is escorted away from you shouts his reply.

Your eyes are closed as the next person moves forward and you beam at them without seeing who they are. “Hi! I hope-” you open your eyes and your smile flaters and turns into something colder- “well, you did show up, huh?” 

The man with light blue hair that reaches his shoulders avoids your gaze and holds a photocard set of you gingerly in his hands. He extends it out to you and under the mask he wears, you can see red peek out.

“You’re going to have to speak up if you want me to sign it.” You place your chin above your hands and smile sweetly at him. “So, what is it you want me to do?”

“Can you sign the cards,” he hesitates, “please.” His eyes meet yours for a quick second before looking away. “To Tomura.”

“Tomura?” You repeat and the man nods. “That’s a cute name,” you hum and grab a pen, grabbing the card set and etching your signature on it. Your eyes meet his and they glance back down at the set in front of you. He has a cute voice- raspy but it suits him. “I didn’t see you in the audience. Either you just showed up or-” you glance up at him and put the pen down- “you’re really good at hiding. But,” your eyes glance over him, “that’s to be expected isn’t it?” The cards are neatly tucked back into the box and you place a kiss against the top, a sliver of glimmer glints under the light and you hold out to him with a coy smile. “Sorry I got some lipstick on it Tomura.”

“That’s-”

“Before you leave,” you raise a hand, “look at the last picture for me? I left you something special.” You bat your eyelashes at him and watch as he opens the set. He’s careful as he pulls out the card, your eyes are entirely focused on his hands, watching as he grabs the card. His eyes scan the card, eyes appearing soft for a split second. It’s a simple photoset- polaroids of you in various settings with white space underneath for your name and when he flips the card over his eyes widen and he looks back at you. You smile and wink at him as the bell rings, serving as a notification that time is over. “Bye Tomura. I’ll see you later.” You wave at him as he’s told to leave.

-

You sit in your home, going through social media, reading the nice comments left on the official page for you and various others on people who managed to take a few pictures or videos during the concert. You smile softly and hum. Your phone buzzes with messages from your friends who congratulate you and fans who heart your comments. It makes you smile and pride swells in your chest. You did good. And you’re exhausted, but you’re happy. For the most part. While your phone vibrates with notifications, it still doesn’t feel as if it’s enough. You haven’t received one. You haven’t received your little stalker’s message. It makes you sigh. 

“To think, he’s been following me around and yet he can’t even message me after I offered, how sad.” You pout and lean back against your pillows. “It’s too bad I didn’t get his number.” 

As if graced by a higher power, your phone buzzes with a message and you rise from the comfortable, slack position with a giddy expression. You quickly unlock your phone and you’re met with a text message from a soap company promoting their new line. You groan and fall back to bed. 

A knock at your window makes you jump out of your skin. You turn and see a hand fisted, hovering over the window and you grin widely. You jump out of bed, pulling down on the shorts that have risen up and done little to hide what you have hidden. You throw the window open and he flinches away.

“Tomura!” He winces and retracts his hand. “Oh come on, you’ve been to my place dozen of times- granted without my permission-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He hisses and when you move away from the window, you encourage him to enter. He narrows his eyes at you and he enters your room. “What the-” he mutters when you move past him and shut the window, latching on the lock and closing the curtain.

“Oh Tomura,” you sigh and walk over to the bed. “You’ve been stalking me and now you’re going to get mad when I allow you into my home?” You spread your arms wide and give him an incredulous smile. “You must have been inside my place before- right?” You nod encouragingly at him.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes darting around.

“Okay. So what have you done then? I’ve never had a stalker as committed as you are,” you coo, crossing your leg over the other. “To be honest, I haven’t seen my other stalkers as of late.” You tilt your head. “You wouldn’t happen to know what  happened to them would you?”

“Do you know who I am?” 

You shake your head and you have this innocent look when you bat your eyelashes at him. “Entertain me.” You smile sweetly at him. “Come on kitten,” you coo. 

He opens his mouth and mouths words but ultimately closes it. 

“Cat got your tongue?” You lilt, a knowing smile on your lips. “I’m fairly positive on who you are. And if I’m right, then I’m a lot more positive about what you’ve done to them. You left their watches or fan memorabilia on my doorstep and the next day I hear they go missing. It’s uh, rather uncouth,” you giggle and scratch the side of your jaw. “I could have gotten in trouble for it, you know?”

“You recognized what they wore?”

You raise your index and puff your chest. “I recognize all- or at least most- of the fans that I have! It’s important to keep my fans happy.” You smile cheekily at him and give him finger guns. “So you invited yourself over. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Why?” When you tilt your head and the smile falls from your face, he continues. “Why did you give me your number?”

You shrug. “To be perfectly honest, I just found you interesting. You’re like this enigma to me. I have suspicion of who you are and if my suspicions are true, then that brings so many more questions. I have to ask- What made you become a fan of mine, Shigaraki-san?” Your grin widens when his shoulders scare and you giggly flap your hands. “Ah! Am I right?”

He opens his mouth and he shakes his head. He buries his face into his hands and his shoulders shake. You frown and when you raise a hand to comfort him, you hear laughter. Your hand retracts as soon as he raises his head and you blink owlishly at him. His laughter is high pitched and you watch him in wonder, your smile growing and hands that jump and dance across your lap. He laughs and shakes his head, and his eyes glint with something unrecognizable. “You’re fucking insane,” he laughs.

“Does that mean you don’t want to make-out?” You bite the inside of your lips when he freezes. “I was going to invite you over but you sort of did that yourself.” He stutters and his face grows red. You allow your grin to widen and even you can tell it comes off predatory. “That’s cute you know. The whole big bad villain is flustered over a kiss,” you lick your lips, “I like it.”

“I’m not-”

You rise from the bed and cup his face in your hands, lips meshing into his and you smile into the kiss when he gasps, tongue slipping into his mouth and your hands remove themselves from his face and slide down his chest. Your hands wrap around his waist and slide towards his middle, unbuttoning his pants and zipping down his zipper. 

You pull away from the kiss and you take a deep breath. “Do you want this Tomura? Or Shigaraki? Which-”

“Tomura,” he nods, frantically, pupils dilated and cheeks red. “Call me Tomura.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Okay Tomura,” you peck his lips. “But I do want to ask again- do you-” You gasp when he presses his lips against yours. Your hand slides upwards, to cup the back of his head and you grip his hair into your hand and yank his head back. He whines and makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t get too greedy now Tomu-kun,” you growl. “You still stalked me. Don’t think I forgot about that.” You let go of him and sit on the bed, slipping your shorts and underwear off and tossing them to the side. Your legs are separated and you give him a coquettish grin. “You’re free to have a taste.” 

His eyes meet yours and he nods. He sits on his knees and a hand goes down to grab at his hardening length. You tut your tongue and pat him on his head. He glares at you, only to soften when you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh Tomu-kun,” you sigh. “You made my first few months a literal hell with how paranoid I was. You really don’t get to have the happy ending right now.” Your lips curl upwards and teeth come to show. “I do. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself until I say so. I’m really not above punishing if needed, kitten.” You slip your top off and tilt your hair. “Understood?” He nods. “Good,” you give him a honeyed smile and grab at your inner thigh. “So lick it baby.”

His tongue is hot against your core. He laps at it feverishly, mouth swirling past your clit and slipping into your slit, suckling at the arousal that seeps from you. He rocks himself on his knees and presses his face further into you and your heel presses into his back. His arm twitches and he whines pitifully into you, the vibration making you jerk your hips towards his face.

“No touching,” you mewl, grabbing at your breast and rubbing a pebbled nipple. “Not yet Tomu-kun. Just hold out.” 

He nods against you and his tongue pushes around your clit, swirling the pulsing bud around, tongue peeking out and lips wrapping around to suckle on it and his swipes down, nose brushing against it causing your legs to tense and a moan to sound in the back of your throat. His tongue flicks in and out of you, circling and rubbing your inner walls, your sex leaking with desire as your breaths grow deeper. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, your hand reaching between your legs to grab at a tendril of his hair, holding it between your fingers. “Who knew you’d be so good at following directions. You’re such a good boy, kitten.” You rise on your elbows and his eyes meet yours. “Come on kit, don’t you want to know what I taste like? How sweet my orgasm is? How it’ll feel as I tighten around your tongue?”

His feasting becomes more feverish, tongue swishing inside of you, he presses his face closer to your sex, desperate to get you to reach your high and you sigh. “Tomura, I’ll be nice. You get to touch me if you want.” 

As the words leave your lips, his fingers enter you and your eyes widen and body tenses. His fingers move in and out at a fast pace, lewd noises fill the room and his fingers curl inside of you, desperate to find the sweet spot that will make you curl. His digits are noble and quick, and when they press against your wall you gasp and your back arches. A whispered curse leaves your lips and you rise to a sitting position, gripping his hair in your hand. 

“Fuck Tomura,” you gasp. “Do- Do that again- oh fuck,” you groan, wrapping your legs around him and stifling a moan behind a hand when he mimics his previous actions. “Yes, Tomura. Oh- what a good boy. Fuck,” you spit out, your hands releasing his hair and harsh, ragged breaths leaving through your nose. You spill onto his face, his tongue curling inside of you, swallowing your honeyed nectar, humming as it slides down his throat. His hands still and his erection presses harshly against the fabric of his pants. You tap his head and lean back onto your back. “Okay. You know how to use your tongue.”

“Can I touch myself now?” His voice cracks and when you peek at him, you grin.

Tomura sits on his knees; your sweetness decorating his chin and making it shine under your lights, his face is blooming red and his pupils are dilated, tongue lolling out and he looks so needy. He takes stuttering breaths, ot breath fanning across your thigh, his arm twitches and a hand rises to tug on a strand of hair.

“Get on the bed, dear,” you stretch your arms above your head, “I want to try something with you.” He rises and you gasp. “Oh! Make sure you strip though. And do it slow for me, hm?”

His face burns bright and you watch with wide eyes as he removes his clothing. He does as he’s told, he removes the clothing slowly letting it pool onto the floor. His leg jerks and he looks around your room, avoiding your eyes and you think it’s cute how shy he is- how this infamous villain is brought to his literal knees with a simple command. He crawls onto the bed and you perk up as he covers his face with his hands, chest caving in with deep breaths. You run a hand across his chest, lips quirking upwards, when he jumps, your hand glides down his abdomen and flutters above his pelvis. 

“You’re so cute,” you mutter under your breath. You hold the base of his cock and run your thumb across his length. He twitches under your touch, pearly beads leaking down his cock and he makes a choking sound. You shush him gently. “You might not get the full happy ending, but you’ll get one.” Your hands glide above him, wrapping him in a firm grip. You take a peek at him, an eye on you as you work him with your hands. “You still stalked me you know. And even if I am attracted to you, I really can’t forgive that,” you chuckle. “I went through such a bad spell of paranoia, you know?” You turn to look at him and your grip tightens. “Be grateful I’m even touching you like this.” You return your attention to his thickness and jerk him slowly. Your lips hover over his slit that beads and you whisper onto him, “You’re not being very grateful, you know?”

He grumbles under his breath. “Thank you,” it comes out in a hoarse whisper. “I- Thank you so much.” He whines when he feels your tongue lap across his slit. “Fuck,” he archs his back when your mouth suctions his cockhead, “fuck.” He squirms and his breathing grows deeper, hoarser while your tongue swirls around him and sucks him deeper. “Thank you,” he croaks, repeating it like a mantra, hands carefully poised above his stomach leaving red lines to avoid decaying your covers.

You pop off his shaft, a string of drool and pre-ejaculate connecting you to his cock and you lick your lips. “You’re a bit of a bitter kitten,” you speak slowly, mouth still parted open and glistening. “I’m not sure if I like it or not.” Your hand works him slowly, more enthralled with the feeling of him in your grasp and you bring a nail to ghost over a prominent vein, smirking when he moans. “Say my name Tomura. I want to hear it.”

He repeats your name under his breath. It’s quiet, nothing more than a murmur in the night, a silent plea laced into your name, filled with want and desire, until it grows, chanting it louder, the want more prominent, hands that dig into his belly and leave red crescent marks in its wake. He moans it out, broken by guttural groans of pleasure as you quicken your pace. Your name is echoed throughout your home, bouncing off the walls, voice groaning weak and his muscles tense. You wrap your lips around him and choke when his seed slides down your throat. It’s bitter and thick, and you can feel the dripping down your throat as it slides in thick, gooey strands. You pop away from him, licking your lips and bringing your index and middle finger to your lips.

He lays in bed, bottom lip between teeth and you roll your eyes and give him a tired smile. Your hand rests above his and he stiffens. “You’ll ruin your lips like that, kitten. You’ve been here plenty, you know where the kitchen is. I’m going to take a shower. You’re free to join me,” you coo, circling your finger around his pebbled nipple. You rise from the bed and give a pat to his thigh, leaving the room filled with rough breathing and little mewls of pleasure.

[jeannereames]

Hi, Dr. Reames! I just read your take on Song of Achilles and it got me thinking. Do you think there might be a general issue with the way women are written in mlm stories in general? Because I don't think it's the first time I've seen something like this happen.

And my next question is, could you delve further into this thing you mention about modern female authors writing women? How could we, beginner female writers, avoid falling into this awful representations of women in our writing?

Thank you for your time!

[It took a while to finish this because I wrote, re-wrote, and re-wrote it. Still not sure I like it, but I need to let it go. It could be 3xs as long.]

I’ll begin with the second half of the question, because it’s simpler. How do we, as women authors, avoid writing women in misogynistic ways?

Let me reframe that as how can we, as female authors, write negative (even quite nasty) female characters without falling into misogynistic tropes? Also, how can we write unsympathetic, but not necessarily “bad” female characters, without it turning misogynistic?

Because people are people, not genders, not all women are good, nor all men bad. Most of us are a mix. If we should avoid assuming powerful women are all bitches, by the same token, some women are bitches (powerful or not).

ALL good characterization comes down to MOTIVE. And careful characterization of minority characters involves fair REPRESENTATION. (Yes, women are a minority even if we’re 51% of the population.)

The question ANY author must ask: why am I making this female character a bitch? How does this characterization serve the larger plot and/or characterization? WHY is she acting this way?

Keep characters complex, even the “bad guys.” Should we choose to make a minority character a “bad guy,” we need to have a counter example—a real counter, not just a token who pops in briefly, then disappears. Yeah, maybe in an ideal world we could just let our characters “be,” but this isn’t an ideal world. Authors do have an audience. I’m a lot less inclined to assume stereotyping when we have various minority characters with different characterizations.

By the same token, however, don’t throw a novel against the wall if the first minority character is negative. Read further to decide if it’s a pattern. I’ve encountered reviews that slammed an author for stereotyping without the reader having finished the book. I’m thinking, “Uh…if you’d read fifty more pages….” Novels have a developmental arc. And if you’ve got a series, that, too, has a developmental arc. One can’t reach a conclusion about an author’s ultimate presentation/themes until having finished the book, or series.*

Returning to the first question, the appearance of misogyny depends not only on the author, but also on when she wrote, even why she’s writing. Authors who are concerned with matters such as theme and message are far more likely to think about such things than those who write for their own entertainment and that of others, which is more typical of Romance.

On average, Romance writers are a professionalized bunch. They have national and regional chapters of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), newsletters and workshops that discuss such matters as building plot tension, character dilemmas, show don’t tell, research tactics, etc. Yet until somewhat recently (early/mid 2010s), and a series of crises across several genres (not just Romance), treatment of minority groups hadn’t been in their cross-hairs. Now it is, with Romance publishers (and publishing houses more generally) picking up “sensitivity readers” in addition to the other editors who look at a book before its publication.

Yet sensitivity readers are hired to be sure lines like “chocolate love monkey” do not show up in a published novel. Yes, that really was used as an endearment for a black man in an M/M Romance, which (deservedly) got not just the author but the publishing house in all sorts of hot water. Yet misogyny, especially more subtle misogyny in the way of tropes, is rarely on the radar.

I should add that I wouldn’t categorize The Song of Achilles as an M/M historical Romance. In fact, I’m not sure what to call novels about myths, as myths don’t exist in actual historical periods. When should we set a novel about the Iliad? The Bronze Age, when Homer said it happened, or the Greek Dark Age, which is the culture Homer actually described? They’re pretty damn different. I’d probably call The Song of Achilles an historical fantasy, especially as mythical creatures are presented as real, like centaurs and god/desses.

Back to M/M Romance: I don’t have specific publishing stats, but it should surprise no one that (like most of the Romance genre), the vast bulk of authors of M/M Romance are women, often straight and/or bi- women. The running joke seems to be, If one hot man is good, two hot men together are better. 😉 Yes, there are also trans, non-binary and lesbian authors of M/M Romance, and of course, bi- and gay men who may write under their own name or a female pseudonym, but my understanding is that straight and bi- cis-women authors outnumber all of them.

Just being a woman, or even a person in a female body, does not protect that author from misogyny. And if she’s writing for fun, she may not be thinking a lot about what her story has to “say” in its subtext and motifs, even if she may be thinking quite hard about other aspects of story construction. This can be true of other genres as well (like historical fantasy).

What I have observed for at least some women authors is the unconscious adoption of popular tropes about women. Just as racism is systemic, so is sexism. We swim in it daily, and if one isn’t consciously considering how it affects us, we can buy into it by repeating negative ideas and acting in prescribed ways because that’s what we learned growing up. If writing in a symbol-heavy genre such as mythic-driven fantasy, it can be easy to let things slip by—even if they didn’t appear in the original myth, such as making Thetis hostile to Patroklos, the classic Bitchy Mother-in-Law archetype.

I see this sort of thing as “accidental” misogyny. Women authors repeat unkind tropes without really thinking them through because it fits their romantic vision. They may resent it and get defensive if the trope is pointed out. “Don’t harsh my squee!” We can dissect why these tropes persist, and to what degree they change across generations—but that would end up as a (probably controversial) book, not a blog entry. 😊

Yet there’s also subconscious defensive misogyny, and even conscious/semi-conscious misogyny.

Much debate/discussion has ensued regarding “Queen Bee Syndrome” in the workplace and whether it’s even a thing. I think it is, but not just for bosses. I also would argue that it’s more prevalent among certain age-groups, social demographics, and professions, which complicates recognizing it.

What is Queen Bee Syndrome? Broadly, when women get ahead at the expense of their female colleagues who they perceive as rivals, particularly in male-dominated fields, hinging on the notion that There Can Be Only One (woman). It arises from systemic sexism.

Yes, someone can be a Queen Bee even with one (or two) women buddies, or while claiming to be a feminist, supporting feminist causes, or writing feminist literature. I’ve met a few. What comes out of our mouths doesn’t necessarily jive with how we behave. And ticking all the boxes isn’t necessary if you’re ticking most of them. That said, being ambitious, or just an unpleasant boss/colleague—if its equal opportunity—does not a Queen Bee make. There must be gender unequal behavior involved.

What does any of that have to do with M/M fiction?

The author sees the women characters in her novel as rivals for the male protagonists. It gets worse if the women characters have some “ownership” of the men: mothers, sisters, former girlfriends/wives/lovers. I know that may sound a bit batty. You’re thinking, Um, aren’t these characters gay or at least bi- and involved with another man, plus—they’re fictional? Doesn’t matter. Call it fantasizing, authorial displacement, or gender-flipped authorial insert. We authors (and I include myself in this) can get rather territorial about our characters. We live in their heads and they live in ours for months on end, or in many cases, years. They’re real to us. Those who aren't authors often don’t quite get that aspect of being an author. So yes, sometimes a woman author acts like a Queen Bee to her women characters. This is hardly all, or even most, but it is one cause of creeping misogyny in M/M Romance.

Let’s turn to a related problem: women who want to be honorary men. While I view this as much more pronounced in prior generations, it’s by no means disappeared. Again, it’s a function of systemic sexism, but further along the misogyny line than Queen Bees. Most Queen Bees I’ve known act/react defensively, and many are (imo) emotionally insecure. It’s largely subconscious. More, they want to be THE woman, not an honorary man.

By contrast, women who want to be honorary men seem to be at least semi-conscious of their misogyny, even if they resist calling it that. These are women who, for the most part, dislike other women, regard most of “womankind” as either a problem or worthless, and think of themselves as having risen above their gender.

And NO, this is not necessarily religious—sometimes its specifically a-religious.

“I want to be an honorary man” women absolutely should NOT be conflated with butch lesbians, gender non-conformists, or frustrated FTMs. That plays right into myths the queer community has combated for decades. There’s a big difference between expressing one’s yang or being a trans man, and a desire to escape one’s womanhood or the company of other women. “Honorary men” women aren’t necessarily queer. I want to underscore that because the concrete example I’m about to give does happen to be queer.

I’ve talked before about Mary Renault’s problematic portrayal of women in her Greek novels (albeit her earlier hospital romances don’t show it as much). Her own recorded comments make it clear that she and her partner Julie Mullard didn’t want to be associated with other lesbians, or with women much at all. She was also born in 1905, living at a time when non-conforming women struggled. If extremely active in anti-apartheid movements in South Africa, Renault and Mullard were far less enthused by the Gay Rights Movement. Renault even criticized it, although she wrote back kindly to her gay fans.

The women in Renault’s Greek novels tend to be either bitches or helpless, reflecting popular male perceptions of women: both in ancient Greece and Renault’s own day. If we might argue she’s just being realistic, that ignores the fact one can write powerful women in historical novels and still keep it attitudinally accurate. June Rachuy Brindel, born in 1919, author of Ariadne and Phaedra, didn’t have the same problem, nor did Martha Rofheart, born in 1917, with My Name is Sappho. Brindel’s Ariadne is much more sympathetic than Renault’s (in The King Must Die).

Renault typically elevates (and identifies with) the “rational” male versus the “irrational” female. This isn’t just presenting how the Greeks viewed women; it reflects who she makes the heroes and villains in her books. Overall, “good” women are the compliant ones, and the compliant women are tertiary characters.

Women in earlier eras who were exceptional had to fight multiple layers of systemic misogyny. Some did feel they had to become honorary men in order to be taken seriously. I’d submit Renault bought into that, and it (unfortunately) shows in her fiction, as much as I admire other aspects of her novels.

So I think those are the three chief reasons we see women negatively portrayed in M/M Romance (or fiction more generally), despite being written by women authors.

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

*Yeah, yeah, sometimes it’s such 2D, shallow, stereotypical presentation that I, as a reader, can conclude this author isn’t going to get any better. Also, the publication date might give me a clue. If I’m reading something published 50 years ago, casual misogyny or racism is probably not a surprise. If I don’t feel like dealing with that, I close the book and put it away.

But I do try to give the author a chance. I may skim ahead to see if things change, or at least suggest some sort of character development. This is even more the case with a series. Some series take a loooong view, and characters alter across several novels. Our instant-gratification world has made us impatient. Although by the same token, if one has to deal with racism or sexism constantly in the real world, one may not want to have to watch it unfold in a novel—even if it’s “fixed” later. If that’s you, put the book down and walk away. But I’d just suggest not writing a scathing review of a novel (or series) you haven’t finished. 😉

[dancingbabya-notes]

Stuck together

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Part 1: Connect

Shame on me for forgetting Bakugo’s birthday, any who here is something that I haven’t finished and I’m not sure I am but I hope you enjoy my suffering like all the other ones. (I scheduled the Deku one last week which is usually how I do these long posts)

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My hands shook as I tried to correct the message on my latest report. As a sidekick to the retired symbol of peace’s agency I often wrote reports, the letters didn’t matter to me because my focus was entirely on the gold cuff trapping my left wrist. Thick and heavy on my wrist, the partner cuff was thin and watery. But I couldn’t argue, I did this to myself. The events of the night before and the conversation was there but the events that lead to the wearing of the cuff were gone.

“Coral.”

What’s wrong with me? I must be insane. ‘Just because you end up the other woman over and over again you suddenly decide to trap the first person to show you human kindness?’

“Coral Relief!”

Jumping to my feet, I instinctively bow my head and try to peek up at the person trying to catch my attention.

“Um, yes sir?” I mumble.

“I think you should go on patrol; you’re disturbing everyone else,” he points out as I notice the tendrils of water leading to my desk.

“Right away, my apologies,” waving my hand over my desk area everything shuts down.

Grabbing what I need I walk away from the cubicles. Just as I get ready to walk out of the agency my cellphone goes off. Taking a peek at the caller ID, I slide the infernal device into my utility belt before putting on my communicator. The fall chill of Tokyo reminded me that I would need to ask for a break soon. Hopefully, the temperature hasn’t risen back home so I can be helpful.

«Coral are you already going on patrol?» my communicator buzzed from the voice.

“Mhmm, I’m on my way out now, sorry. The wind kind of made me cold,” I mumble before taking the step out into the street.

Stomping down slightly, I wait for the familiar click of the wheels on my boots popping out.

«Good, cause it seems like Deku needs help there’s a fire, the chief asked for your help»

“So, did Deku ask or the Chief?” I sigh before kicking off.

«Will you stop playing around? I’m sending you his location»

“Why not just connect our coms, I can send a water trail to him,” I raise a brow.

«Sometimes I wonder why you decided to be a hero and not a firefighter»

I shrug. “I come from a family of blacksmiths. Our quirks could be used elsewhere but why not try for what we want to do?”

Deku’s voice makes me stop. «Coral, how does your water work again?»

“Well, I can see through it. Is there something wrong?” I follow the directions as I try not to disrupt everyone else.

«There was a quirk malfunction that’s why we need you. Where are you?»

“Coming up on your left, tell me what you need?” I frowned before attempting to stop.

“I don’t know the specifics, but the dancer has a flame quirk that starts when she dances, and she can’t stop dancing,” he calls as I speed past.

“Alright, pardon me while I do this then,” I smile as I skate inside the building.

Smoke surrounded me, and I could only see a few meters in front of me. Trying to move toward the warmth of the fire I could see her. Luckily having a quirk that activates itself means the water was already surrounding her. The fire was the problem though. I couldn’t get close enough especially with no water to cloak me.

«Coral the fire is stopping»

“I can’t get close!”

Trying to push forward the flames lick at my skin. I wasn’t used to the intense heat, and it was a drastic change from the chill of the outside air. Something moves past me as I pause for a breath, looking closer I bolt through the flames not caring for the burns or anything similar. If whoever touches my water bubble she would dance and harm herself more.

“Ground Xero stop, you’ll kill her,” I block him while heaving for air.

My suit sticks to my skin and was burning away as I tried to move the bubble.

“Move out of the way, she’s causing the flames,” he shouts trying to get past me.

I glare up at the man. “Yes, and I made them go down.”

Reaching inside, I grab her hand and paste a water-resistant sticker to her hand. All the flames stop growing. Ground Xero seems to understand what I’m doing and reaches for the woman as I spread the last bit of water supply toward the flames. Ground Xero already made his way out, so I follow suit and skate out of the building. My legs were a bit shaky as I stand by the ambulance.

“Please be careful of her feet, those are the parts most damaged by the incident,” I huff.

An oxygen mask is forced onto my face, and I’m led to sit down. “You did good, Coral.”

“Glad I did something good before my break,” I chuckle awkwardly.

“Wait where are you going?” Deku hovers over me and I cover my eyes with my hand to ease the light change.

A blanket is thrown over my shoulders and I look to the person in front of me. “It’s a family thing. Don’t worry, I do this every year, Kiddo.”

He seems to pause for a second and his face heats up. “I’m the same age as you.”

“That still needs to be proved. Next time I need a better description of the quirk, when she dances fire erupts at her feet. Whoever designed the stage made the base fireproof, but the decorations were a bad idea,” Standing back up I put the mask down.

“Coral sit down now!” one of the firefighters’ shouts.

Sitting down I stick out my tongue. With a quick look at my legs, I feel the sting of the burns and bleeding. “Damn that’s worse than I thought it was. Maybe I should make my uniform fireproof?”

The looks of anger and frustration that cover the people around me are priceless. I manage to smother my giggles before a pair of intense eyes glare me down. Instead of his full costume, his gauntlets lay next to the truck as if he was in a hurry to get inside the building. Ground Xero always felt like an explosion unexpected but loud. Sadly, like a firework, he had a certain bright beauty to him. His breathing wasn’t as ragged as inside the building instead his breathing seemed to make me want to pull the thing currently covering me over my head.

“What the hell were you thinking? Running after me into burning flames like that?!”

What? Does he not realize that is my job? Furrowing my brow, I grumble. “Maybe if you didn’t rush into shit like a kid, I wouldn’t have had to run in like that.”

“All I knew is there was a fire and you had run in.”

“You have not right to shout at me like that, I was doing my job. We have communicators for a reason next time listen to all the information before making a rash decision like that,” sighing I try to stand up, but a large hand forces me to sit back down.

“Give me the fucking bandages for Coral,” he huffs.

“Kacchan, I don’t think you should—” Deku starts.

«Coral, we can’t get in touch with Deku, are you with him?»

“Yeah.” I mumble.

Ground Xero glares at the man next to him. “Do not argue with me. I won’t have anyone touching her am I understood?”

«There’s a runaway villain and he’s the closest that can apprehend him.»

“Kacchan, do you know Coral?” Deku looks to the other male and I frown.

Flinching from the sudden tightening of the bandages. I place my left hand on Ground Xero’s shoulder.

After rubbing at my temple, I hold up my other hand. “Deku! They need you downtown. You think you can make it to cut the villain off three blocks right of here?”

The man pauses for a moment finally listening to his  communicator device.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Coral,” The green-haired man adored by many runs leaving me to finally let a sigh of relief.

“That childhood friend of yours is very observant,” I grumble.

“When do you finish? I need to talk to you,” he huffs as he cleans at the wounds on my legs.

Looking at it I wince. “From the state of my legs, I’ll be off after changing out of my uniform.”

One of the firefighters laughs. “What’s left of it.”

Ground Xero nods before returning his focus to bandaging my legs. Instead of focusing on the male, I quickly begin typing up my part of the report for the incident. I didn’t get to walk back to the agency, instead, I was carted back. Ground Xero dragged me behind him while he walked past our agency. Sending him a short wave I make my way inside the building to get bombarded with questions on my status and groans at the bandaging on my legs.

“Coral Relief, tomorrow is your day off, correct?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Take that time to finish up your report. If you cannot get control of your quirk, you will be filing reports from home, are we clear?”

“Like water.”

Groans echo as I leave to the changing rooms. My locker was never full of anything but my uniform or my civilian clothes. Pulling off the destroyed cloth and a quick wipe down I returned to my shorts and hoodie. The mini backpack now holding my phone and keys. I didn’t like walking; I couldn’t walk properly so I opted for skating places that I needed to go.

Back in my civilian clothes I almost run into someone. Looking up Ground Xero now in his civilian clothes too stood before me.

“You’re not allowed to walk,” he grabs my hand and leads me to a taxi.

With a pout, I give my address to the driver and off we go. It was usually a thirty-minute ride to my apartment, but without the usual traffic of the afternoon, it was only fifteen minutes. Ground Xero or currently addressed as Bakugo was behind me the whole walk to my door. Opening the door, I held up my arms to shield the man from the bullet of fur bolting for the first person to open the door. Catching the cat, I step past the threshold and slip out of my skates.

“Please make yourself at home. If I had known one of the top fifteen was going to be here, I would have cleaned up more before going to work,” I joke as I try to walk farther into my apartment.

Just as I step the man picks me up with no issue, he walks into my apartment like he owns the place and forces me to sit on the two-seater chair I keep in my living room space. Frowning I wait for him to sit next to me, and he seems to look around at the room.

“You’re a fan of Midnight?” he scoffs.

“Not all of us are All Might fanboys,” I roll my eyes as Banana nuzzles into my lap. “I’m sorry baby, I’m not giving you enough attention, am I?”

Bakugo watches this exchange and grabs my left hand pointing to the cuff. “So, what the hell is this?”

I pout but taking a slow sip of air I speak. “This is a special bracelet made by my mom, it’s called living gold. My dad’s family are blacksmiths sort of, and my mom’s quirk was the perfect one to integrate into the family. But she comes from a family of jewelers.”

“Is there any way to take it off?” Pausing at his question my face hurts as I try to hold the reflexive tears that want to fall.

“No.” Banana jumps from my lap and disappears down the hall.

Rubbing at my eyes, I can’t help the pain digging deep into my chest as I try harder to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Bakugo doesn’t falter when my tears start, instead, he pulls my head to him. Banana returns with a blanket dragging behind him, I recognize the pattern and reach down to pick both my cat and the blanket up. My head hurt from the tears, but I just shake my head as I wait for them to stop.

“I’m buying dinner,” Bakugo sighs.

I nod, but he only pulls out his phone and starts typing away with his hands leaning on my back. Confused at this action, I stay still. Banana has always found it his goal to fall asleep on my lap when I cry and even if another person was here, he still did it. Bakugo pockets his phone and looks down at me.

People were always a mystery to me. Bakugo wasn’t even someone that I had known for long, but he was someone that I could cry like this in front of.

Calmed down a bit I sigh. “I’m sorry you got tangled up with me. This is all my mother’s fault. She created this stupid thing and trapped so many people in it. I wish there was a way to take it off.”

“Your quirk is water manipulation,” he points out.

Nodding, I don’t move out of his hold. “My quirk is a gift from my dad. Most of his family have water manipulation, my mom can control soft metals in their liquid form.”

He thinks for a moment. “How did we end up back at your place last night?”

“If I’m honest, I have no idea. I remember up till we started talking about what we want to do in the future.”

We only sat on the couch not speaking for a long time. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want to move. The warmth rolling off of this man was so comforting that I didn’t find the need to move away. Banana napping in my lap reminded me of where I was and what was really going on.

“I was wrong, this is my fault,” frowning I continue to pet my cat. “Look, you can just avoid talking to me if you really don’t want to have anything to do with this stupid thing.”

I hear him grumble. “Will you stop blaming yourself. I could have said no.”

He gets up after the doorbell rings. Sitting still for a moment, I watch my cat walk away from me and leave me to mull over the thoughts in my head. Standing up, I pat the bandages gently gauging the severity of the pain after being covered for so long. Grabbing some chopsticks for us, we sit on the couch before getting ready to eat.

“Deku mentioned that you would be taking a break soon.” He points out.

“Oh, yeah,” Holding the container I look at my phone. “My family does the ice festival, wanna come? We could always use extra hands.”

“I’m not intruding on a family event,” starting to angrily eat he frowns.

Fixing my blanket over my legs I shake my head. “You wouldn’t be intruding. If my sister is there, we can ask her if she can manipulate the metal and possibly remove it.”

“I don’t know.”

I chuckle. “Well tell me if you change your mind. My flight is supposed to be two weeks from now.”

Chapter 2

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Girl of My Dreams

Title: Girl of My Dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3828

Square Filled: Friends to Lovers

Summary: Sleeping together turns into actually sleeping together when a sleepy confession breaks all of Dean’s walls.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+ ONLY), then back to Fluff! Unprotected Sex (wrap it up kids!), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Masturbation, and Slight Language.

Written for @spndeanbingo​

A/N: Sooo… when I started writing this, my intentions were for it to be so incredibly fluffy it would rot your teeth, but then things took a different turn and now you’ve got something fluffy and smutty. Not a bad combination if you ask me. However, I did get carried away. Like way away! Lol. Oh well! I hope you enjoy it! Happy Reading!xx

Sleepovers weren’t uncommon for you and Dean since the two of you were best friends. You’d always get comments like, “you guys act like you’re dating”, “you guys are such a cute couple”, or “you guys argue like an old married couple.” Eventually, it started to become a natural thing, and those comments no longer affected any of you. Neither tried to deny or rectify the truth.

Dean woke up first, light mossy eyes slowly fluttering open in the dimly lit bedroom, the only stream of light coming through the haphazardly closed curtains. His eyes instantly landed on your sleeping face only inches from his. He couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt he loved you, but how far that love went, he never thought about it.

“Dean…” you mumbled. Dean’s ears perked at the weak sound of his name. “You’re an idiot,” you continued. Dean chuckled knowing you were talking in your sleep, obviously dreaming about him. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but when you did, you always had something interesting to say. Last time you spoke in your slumber, you were apparently a male wrestler, trying to rob a bank. It was bizarre.

“Why am I an idiot?” Dean replied, his voice thick with sleep – deep and raspy. He knew you’d respond. You always did.

“Because…” you voice trailed off, your nose scrunching as you snuggled closer to him, most likely searching for more warmth. It was a little chilly in the room.

“Because what?” Dean asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer.

“Because you are,” your breath fanned against his neck, sending shivers and goosebumps throughout his body and sending a wave of arousal to his already hard member. He groaned at the sensation, willing to shake the feeling away. The feeling rarely happened, and when it did, he always manages to sate it. You were his best friend; he couldn’t be thinking about you that way. He shouldn’t.

“Dean…” you whispered again, hot breath warming his sleep induced heated skin.

“Yeah, Sweetheart,” he struggled to say.

“I love you.”

A small smile graced his lips as he squeezed you tighter, your words melting him. “I know.”

“No…”

“No?” Dean questioned, moving his head slightly so he could look at you.

“I’m in love with you,” you revealed in your latent state. Dean almost felt guilty, as if hearing something he shouldn’t have. “I’m in love with you, you big dummy…”

Dean’s stomach began to flip, swirling like a hurricane. He felt his cheeks heat up, and his cock become painfully hard. His senses heightened and he could feel every curve and soft skin of your body pressing against his. As if Pandora’s box was opened. In that moment, he wanted you, needed you. In that moment, he realized that he was in love with you too. All this time you’ve been by his side, and it took him till now to realize it. He really was a “big dummy.”

“Shit,” he groaned, gently pushing you away and rushing into the bathroom.

Once the door was closed and locked, Dean turned on the showerhead to hot, stripping out of his clothes, and jumping in, feeling the lukewarm water pierce his skin before turning scalding hot. Dean altered the water again so it was hot enough to not cook him alive. His chest was heaving as he saw visions of you every time he closed his eyes.

Frustration took over him and he needed to satisfy himself, so he took his thick and heavy member into his palm, pumping slowly before ramping up his speed. He came with your name falling through his lips repeatedly. His release painted the walls as he breathed heavily. He had never come so hard and so much from just his hand before, it was ridiculous. And the fact it was to you.

When he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel hung lowly around his waist, he saw you sitting on the bed, hair messy, and crop top tousled and draping over one of your shoulders from your movements through the night. His eyes were locked onto your form as if in a trance. He bit his lip when your stretched, raising your arm over your head, the motion lifting your top and exposing your soft stomach. Dean growled softly, feeling his cock begin to stir once again under the towel.

“Morning,” you smiled lazily, eyes still half closed. “I’m hungry,” was the next thing you said, making him chuckle. He felt ridiculous for having such dirty thoughts about you, when you were acting as if nothing happened. Completely innocent, unlike Dean… who had gotten himself off at the thought of you. “Make me tea, slave!” You ordered, the same drowsy look on your face, before you fell back onto the used bed.

Dean couldn’t help but eye you up. Your shirt had risen just high enough that he could see your under boob, and immediately Dean was hungry too… but not for sustenance.

“Yeah, sure…” Dean muttered, his voice coming out strained, as if he was being tortured, which he technically was. He wondered how this was happening so fast… and all at once.

Dean quickly shoved on a pair of running shorts, forgoing underwear since he was only staying in house, and heading out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

By the time the hot water was done, and he was pouring the steaming content into your favorite mug that said, “my house” even though it was his house. The notion didn’t seem as funny as it did before. Now… Dean wouldn’t mind having his house being yours as well. The two of you were best friends after all. You knew everything about him. You’d seen him at his best and worst, and have stayed by his side no matter what. You were his constant. You were his rock. You were his.

“I want Jasmine,” your voice interrupted his thoughts, making him jolt and dropping the Jasmine tea bag into the mug.

Your body made it’s way beside him, your warm skin brushing against his. Your head lulled over, resting on his arm, just below his shoulder because you were that short. His eyes fell on your figure as he watched you gracefully grab the mug, bringing it up to your nose and inhaling deeply, before letting out a content sigh.

He continued to watch you as you brought down the mug to your lips, taking a sip before letting out a yelp. “Hot!” You shouted, setting the mug on the table before covering your mouth with your hand, as if that was going to do anything.

Dean let out another exasperated laugh, lightly slapping his palm on his forehead. He felt utterly ridiculous. He’d been around you for so long, seen you do stupid things so many times, and yet… he hadn’t realized just how adorable you were. Just how much you filled his heart like no one else did. How could he have not noticed before? How could he be that fucking stupid?

When he looked over at you again, you were looking up at him with that annoyed pout you always did. God, he wanted to kiss you, and then without thinking, he leaned in and did just that. Sealing his lips to your unsurprisingly soft ones. When he pulled away, a dreamy sigh left your lips and before he knew what was happening, you were on your tippy-toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another.

Dean groaned into the kiss, his arms easily encasing your figure and pressing it flush against his. The kiss became desperate, and Dean bent his knees and lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping themselves around his taught waist.

“Bed,” you manage to say against his lips, and Dean wasted no time in following orders, especially when it meant he would get to kiss you like this all day.

Dean dropped your bodies onto the bed, eliciting an excited squeal from you. You giggled before Dean covered your lips with his, slanting perfectly over yours. He grinded his hips between your legs, the sweatpants you were wearing doing little to hide the heaviness and largeness of what Dean had been blessed with below the waist.

You moaned at the feel, allowing Dean to shove his tongue into your mouth, tongues languidly caressing with one another. Just the kiss alone was enough to make your eyes roll back and take every breath away from you. Unable to breath, you shoved Dean away, gasping for air. Instead, he moved his lips to your neck, licking, nipping, and sucking, searching for your weak spot.

It was the sound of your shaky inhale that alerted him that he had found the right spot, worrying the area until it was prominently red. “Dean,” his name fell through your lips like a purr, the sound driving him more crazy than he already was. He wanted to hear it again. Needed to hear it again.

He trailed his lips down to your exposed shoulder, yanking down your shirt until one breast was fully exposed. Without wasting any time, he took your nipple into his hot mouth, shoving as much as he could take. He sucked hard, his tongue fiddling with your hard nub, causing you to arch your back. “Dean!” You breathed again, this time a little more winded.

Dean didn’t relent, ripping your shirt in half like a savage and tossing the ruined fabric behind him so he could get to your other breast. He gave the same treatment as he did the other, and his hands gripped your waist, keeping you still so he could have his way.

“Please,” you begged, the word coming out strangled. Releasing her nipple with a wet pop, his eyes met yours briefly, both of you sporting lust blown looks.

Dean dragged his tongue down your torso, circling around your bellybutton, which resulted in you bucking your hips to his, rubbing against his strained cock, making both of you moan. Dean slithered lower, leaving a trail of wet kissed down to the soft elastic of your sleeping pants. In one swift motion, Dean was on his knees, peeling your pants off of you and dropping it somewhere in the room, delighted to find out that you weren’t wearing panties. Dean groaned as his cock twitched. Regaining some composure of what little he had left, he resumed his position, and he could feel you shaking. You wanted this. You wanted it so bad, and Dean could tell.

His vision locked on your bare, soaked, pussy, deliciously waiting for him to devour it. “Fuck,” he exhaled, the warmth of his breath grazing over the heat of your needy cunt.

“Please,” you begged again, rolling your hips upwards in hopes you’d reach his mouth, but to your disappointment, Dean just held you down. “Dean, please. I need you!”

Dean groaned, watching your strung out expression, reveling in the thought that it was all because of him. Knowing that he was the one driving you crazy. With new found confidence and hunger, Dean flattened his tongue against your folds and lapped up your pussy, starting from the bottom all the way up to your clit with a playful flick.

Your body convulsed in surprise as a loud moan filled the room. The sound was heaven and Dean needed to hear it over and over again, so this time, he wrapped his mouth over your clit, sucking and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Slowly but surely, he was making you fall apart, just like the thought of you made him fall apart during his morning shower.

The more Dean continued to taste and lavish your increasingly sensitive pussy, the louder you became. He never pegged you for the loud type, but it did nothing but spur him on. A sweet serendipity. By the end of his ministrations, he wanted you screaming his name. He wanted his neighbors to know who you belonged to, who made you feel this good, that he was the only person that could tear you apart in the best way possible.

Seconds later you were shaking under his face, your juices spilling into his mouth while your hands tugged on his hair, trying to pry him off. You were so overly stimulated that it was too much, but Dean didn’t falter, continuing to ride out your orgasm with slow strokes of his tongue against your clit, delving into your vagina now and again.

Your body continued to twitch under his ministration, your hands still locked in a vice grip in his hair. By the time your body simmered down to deep breathing, Dean pulled away, a warm smile on his lips, which was covered with your slick.

Your eyes met and instantly you both knew things were different, but it didn’t feel alarming. Instead, it felt peaceful, as if everything was now right with the world. Like what was meant to be finally was.

You watched intently as Dean got off of the bed, his eyes raking over your body. The massive tent in his pants made you bite your bottom lip, anticipation adding pressure to your core and making the butterflies go from a flutter to a downright whirlwind in your stomach. From what you could see, he was huge.

Dean shoved his shorts down, exposing him in all his glory. A gasp left your lips and you felt your pussy pulse at the sight. Dean was gorgeous and well endowed, much more intimidating that you thought he’d be. There was no doubt in your mind that Dean would end all men for you.

No words were shared as Dean crawled back onto you like a predator, his hips resting perfectly between your legs, his cock pressed just as perfectly between your folds. Dean’s lips connected with yours in another heated kiss, both your hips gyrating against each other, his cock teasing your pussy delectably as his tip brushed against your clit with purpose.

You purred under him, your hands roaming down to grip his ass, but as quick as they found their purchase, they were above your head, each of Dean’s hands threading through yours, lacing them together.

With one final suck of your tongue, Dean pulled away from the kiss, his hair disheveled and lips swollen, just like yours. He slip your hands down to either sides of your head, pushing himself up as his eyes drank you in. Dark emerald orbs moved from your own, tracing down to your lips, over your perky breasts, then down your torso till they landed on your pussy, where his leaking head was waiting at your entrance.

“Please,” you pleaded for the millionth time. “I need you inside me.”

Your whimpers were a challenge of it’s own, testing Dean’s self control. It was already a thin line, barely hanging by a thread. It was such low hanging fruit that you could simply pluck it off and toss him into blind lust, but he was determined to behave himself, even just a little. He wanted his first time with you to be more than just feral need. He planned on dragging this out, mesmerizing your body, making up for lost time, apologizing to you for making you wait so long for him. He was going to show you how much he was in love with you.

Dean groaned, eyes rolling back, as he slowly entered you. Both of you watched as your pussy engulf his massive cock, his member unable to submerge all the way in. Dean’s eyes met yours, noticing the need in them and pushed himself in deeper, seeing just how much you could take. Your eyes rolled back while your head dropped to the mattress, a string of cuss words filling the room. Dean stopped, holding himself there, waiting for you to adjust.

“Please, don’t stop. Put it all in. All of it, please!” Your plea ended up sounding like you were crying, and you were. You were desperate to have all of him. To take all he had to offer. “Please!”

Dean growled, his control about to snap. At that point he knew what kind of lover you could be. One who likes it a little rough. One who likes a little pain with the pleasure. Giving into your will, Dean pushed in, trying to force the rest of him in, his tip already pressing against your cervix. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks before disappearing. Dean noticed the tears but continued to burry himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he huffed. Dean could see the bulge in your stomach, the sight enough to almost make him lose it. “I can’t,” he gritted, “Sweetheart, it won’t fit.”

“No!” You shouted. “Don’t stop, please. I need all of it.”

“Fuck,” Dean hissed. He was definitely in love. Following your orders, Dean pushed himself in, fighting the barrier to shove all of him in. In the end he was too big. “Shit, baby, I can’t.” Before you could say another word, Dean rammed against your already stuffed cunt, hitting his head roughly against your cervix, earning a loud yelp from your parted lips. “Baby…” his voice came out low and gravelly, maybe even dangerously. “I told you, I can’t fit it all in.” He rammed against you again, a sharp cry ringing through the room as more tears were shed. “My giant cock can’t fit in your tiny little pussy,” he hissed, as if scolding you yet taunting you.

You were at a complete loss for words, and Dean took it upon himself to pull out, then slowly push back in, using all his weight to push as much as he could inside of you. It had already been established that he wouldn’t fit, but that didn’t stop him from trying with every thrust. You sang every time, your sweet moans driving him near insane.

His thrusts went from slow and deep, to steady, deep and rough. You were screaming in bliss, your pussy tightening around him with ever plunge. No one had ever filled you up so full before, and no one had ever made your body sing like he did. Every thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

With one particular hard thrust, Dean forced as much as he could, not stopping until he pushed you up the bed a little. A scream tore from deep in your chest and suddenly you fell apart, your body violently trembling beneath him. As you fell apart, Dean did nothing to retreat, only continuing to shove himself deeper, even if it was no use.

He grunted, reveling in the feel of your sweet cunt pulsing around his dick. You were so fucking tight, and so fucking perfect. Dean felt as if he was losing his mind, and maybe he was. He pulled out and your body jumped at the emptiness.

You opened your eyes and met Dean staring down at you. “Turn over for me, Sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice low and sensual. Just the sound had your pussy clenching around nothing.

Obeying his wishes, your turned over on your stomach. You felt his soft lips against your shoulder and back and then back up to your earlobe where he took it into between his teeth, tugging softly. “You ready?” Dean asked.

“Fuck me, please.”

Once again, Dean filled you up. You screamed as your eyes rolled back. Dean slipped his arms under yours, his hands wrapping around your throat gently, adding a little pressure as he continued to slowly pump inside you.

Dean was trying to control himself, wanting to feel your smooth walls slide over him. He wanted to mesmerize the feeling, lock it into his memories forever. Wet. Warm. Fucking tight!

“Harder,” you gasped as Dean met your cervix with every thrust. “I need it! Give it to me harder!”

As if something snapped inside of him, Dean’s grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your airway slightly as he slammed into you. He was so deep, so overwhelming and overstimulating that you were already coming, squeezing him so tight that it almost hurt.

Dean grunted, trying to fuck you through your orgasm but was suddenly met with his own. His hips pressing flush against your ass as he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back, your entire body falling limp as you felt him gushing. You had never had anyone come so much inside you that it dribbled out of your pussy as he still came, ropes and ropes of his seed. It was mind blowing.

Your body fell completely limp as Dean continued to ride out his high. Dean wasn’t sure if you had passed out or not. “You okay there, Sweetheart?” He asked, releasing your throat but keeping himself lodge inside of you.

“Fuck,” you moaned, having a hard time breathing with his weight on top of you, but you didn’t dare say anything about it. You liked his weight. Welcomed it. “That was so fucking good.” Dean chuckled, slipping out of you and making you gasp. You could feel clumps of his seed dribbling out of your vagina, the sensation making you smile.

You turned your head to the side, meeting Dean’s gaze. He was smiling back, his eyes blazing with something you’ve never seen before. You could tell he was happy, but the way his eyes shined, you knew it was beyond that. Your own lips stretched wide, marveling at the man before you.

“I love you,” you blurted.

“I know,” he grinned.

“No. What I mean is that… I’m in love with you,” you clarified.

“I know,” his grin only widened. “And I’m in love with you.”

A dopey grin spread across your face, your eyes closing with contempt. You’ve loved Dean forever and now you knew he felt the same way. “Since when?” The words slipped out.

“Honestly… I think I’ve loved you even way before I met you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You giggled, unable to understand where he was getting at.

“You’re the girl of my dreams,” he revealed, pearly white teeth on display as he smiled, waiting for your reaction to his hopelessly cheesy confession.

A string of giggle left you, eyes squinting close before your eyes locked on his. God he thought you were beautiful. A fucking goddess.

“Dean Winchester, you are one sappy son of a bitch.” Dean boomed with laughter, an arm snacking under you back and hauling you above him so that you were straddling his hip, his cock already hard between your stomachs. It hadn’t even been five minutes. “Wanna know what else you are?”

“What?” Dean asked, watching you flick your eyes downward to his raging boner.

“Insatiable.”

“Damn right I am,” Dean agreed with pride, lifting you easily, readying his cock at your entrance for round two. “Now ride me.”

--

A/N: If you liked it, please reblog and leave some feedback. Reblogging is the only way to help me get my fics to reach more readers, and feedback pretty much feeds my writing soul! And I would really appreciate the love! xx

[dcbbw]

Drake. Singing "Jolene" in the shower. Please please pretty please. xoxoxo

Hahahahahahahahahaahahaha, BURNS!!!! Hopefully I delivered what you were looking for.

To provide context/background to whomever reads this, @burnsoslow and I have random late-night convos that cover a whole range of topics. The other night, we were discussing Drake Walker’s taste in music. I see him liking old-school country and 70s rock (think The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac). Then I got this image of Drake in the shower singing Dolly Parton’s Jolene, a song about a woman pleading with a temptress not to take her man.

Well, then the question became which Drake? The answer is below the cut.

Song lyrics are from Jolene and are the property of their respective owner(s). Forgive me, Dolly for taking liberties with some of your words, but Burnsy came up with the BEST name!

Thanks to my bears for pre-reading!

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Answer has hints of lemon. 

Driam

Drake Walker was in the shower, his fingers working shampoo into his thick, brown hair. As suds bubbled over his scalp and transformed his mane into a white, soapy cap he sang.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare With flaming locks of auburn hair With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green Your smile is like a breath of spring Your voice is soft like summer rain And I cannot compete with you Jolene

Liam joined him, the hot water pelting his body as Drake began the second verse. Liam’s heart twisted at Drake’s song choice. Coronation was mere hours away; Liam would be fully duty bound to Cordonia and her soon-to-be Queen before the night was over.

“You have no competition, love,” Liam murmured against Drake’s wet skin as he stepped behind his lover, his arms encircling his waist, hands splayed across Drake’s hips.

Drake stopped singing. “Hey, Li,” he said softly.

“This Jolene is not an apt description of Lady Riley. She sounds more like Duchess Olivia,” Liam frowned as his hand began stroking Drake’s length.

“Ha! Never made the connection, but I suppose you’re right.” Drake’s eyes closed in both bliss and hurt at his King’s touch.

“I swear on everything Drake, Lady Riley won’t come between us and what we have. It’s just a temporary situation.”

Drake stepped closer under the shower head, letting the water rinse the shampoo; rivulets of soapy water rand down his back, causing Liam to release his hold from Drake.

“Did you hear me, love?”

Drake nodded, not trusting himself to speak. If his lips parted now, he would tell Liam the truth and he had promised Riley she could be the one to tell Liam.

Liam’s choice would refuse his proposal. Because she had chosen Drake. And they were leaving for America in a week.

It broke Drake’s heart, but he and Liam would never be together they way they both wanted and deserved. Everyone was free to love the way they wanted to except the King. And Liam would never, could never give his country the attention it needed if Drake were in the picture.

Already, he was planning to divorce a Queen he hadn’t even married.

Drake would say his goodbyes to Liam after Riley broke the news. He wondered if he could ever say goodbye to Liam. The man was ingrained in his mind, his skin, his very soul.

He had to. It was for the best. It was for Cordonia.

Commoner’s Wife AU Drake

The Duchess of Valtoria blearily opened one eye, letting out a loud groan at the time. 9 am. Her head hurt and her mouth was dry from consuming too much alcohol and not enough food at the charity gala her Great House had hosted the night before. She had been too busy being the dutiful wife and gracious hostess.

She sipped whiskey with her husband, Drake, as they made their rounds; their smiles were wide, and their questions sincere as they networked with their fellow nobles. She drank wine with the ladies of court while the men smoked cigars. She had flitted from table to table during dinner, making sure everyone was full and happy, with a martini in her hand.

When she finally sat down to eat with her husband, the orchestra had begun to play, and the Duke and Duchess led everyone in the first dance.

The entire evening, her eyes constantly strayed to the King, who had escorted Duchess Olivia to the soiree. Riley’s eyes narrowed whenever Liam’s fingers touched Olivia’s. Her jaw clenched when she saw the King and Duchess dancing, his hands placed just above her buttocks and her slender, pale arms snaked around his neck.

Her husband saw it all.

Riley rolled onto her back, her head sinking into her pillow. She had already decided she wasn’t going to do anything other than hydrate and pop ibuprofen. Her phone buzzed; her hand reached out to grab it.

Liam:  Last night’s gala was magnificent, yet pales compared to the shining jewel that is you. The Crown’s contribution is forthcoming. I miss you.

Riley deleted the message and tossed her phone back onto the bedside table. Fuck you and Olivia.

She had just risen from the bed to use the bathroom when she heard the shower turn on. Drake. She decided she would kiss her husband good morning and plead hangover to get out of any plans he may have made for them for the day. What good was being a Duchess if one couldn’t take a day to rest and relax?

And sulk over one’s lover being lovey-dovey with someone else.

Riley entered the bathroom, hearing Drake singing. She raised an eyebrow. Two things Drake didn’t do: sing and dance. She listened to his voice, a deep bass, singing an old Dolly Parton tune. But the words were wrong.

She talks about you in her sleep And there's nothing I can do to keep From crying when she calls your name JoLiam

And I can easily understand How you could easily take my girl But you don't know what she means to me JoLiam

Riley’s hand covered her O-shaped mouth. Did Drake know?  The twisting in her stomach was not so much about being caught; she did have enough love for Drake to not want him to be hurt. It just wasn’t strong enough to overcome her need for Liam.

She hastily coughed to announce her presence; the singing stopped.

“Brooks?” Drake called out.

Riley stuck her head in the shower; the spray lightly peppered her skin. “Good morning,” she said softly.

Drake grinned. “Good morning.”

“Hey, how about waffles for breakfast? And that thick cut bacon you like?”

Drake looked at her in confused surprise. “Are you up for it? You had more than your share of liquor last night.”

Riley kissed Drake’s wet lips, slipping in a little bit of tongue. “You’re my husband! Of course I’m up for it. And anything else you may want to do today.”

Drake looked searchingly over his wife’s expression. “Are you sure?”

Riley nodded, a bright smile on her face. “Positive!”

Drake soaped his washcloth. “Brooks, are you happy? With me?”

Riley swallowed over the lump in her throat. “There’s no one I’d rather be with,” she lied.

She left the bathroom to cook breakfast before her husband saw the truth in her eyes.

Upstate AU Dramien

Heavy rain poured outside while Drake Walker and Damien Nazario lay in bed watching the Saved by the Bell reboot on one of their many streaming services. It was 10 am, but with no lights on their bedroom, the room was as dark as if it were still 6 am.

“Thank GOD we cleaned out the gutters last weekend,” Drake commented.

“Hmmmm”, Damien responded absently.

He wasn’t the house person. He liked the idea of home ownership: It represented adulthood and was a great investment, but the work it took to keep up the house and protect it from unnecessary problems? The tree pruning, gutter cleaning, keeping sewage lines clear? Drake took care of that or found folks who would.

“You know, it doesn’t get dark like this in the city when it rains,” Drake observed as they watched Lexi shy away from kissing Jaime because he really liked Aisha.

“The lights from all the stores and office buildings penetrate the cloud cover.” Damien shifted in the bed to pull more sheets over his body. His eyes were glued to the screen. “Why does it not surprise me that Zack Morris is an absentee father?”

“I wonder why Jessie is still hanging in there with her loser husband. He’s having an emotional affair with a character from his book!”

“And now said character is pregnant.”

Drake shook his head as he grabbed the remote to turn the television off. He glanced over at Damien. “Breakfast?”

Damien nodded. “I’ll cook if you wash the dishes.”

“I cleaned the gutters so we don’t have to worry about it raining on our heads. You cook and do dishes, and I’ll take care of dinner.”

“Deal”

Drake climbed out of bed. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”

“In our new manly bathroom?” Damien teased.

“It was PINK! ALL OVER! Like a teenage girl puked up everything Pinterest in there! Even the toilet was pink.”

“I like pink!” Damien argued.

“You like everything I don’t.” Drake gave Damien a quick kiss on his lips and padded into their master bath.

Alone in the bed, Damien stretched before getting up and making the bed. He then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The sounds of the shower and Drake’s singing greeted him.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men But I could never love again He's the only one for me Jolene

“Why are you begging Jolene to leave me alone?” Damien teased as he stepped into the shower with his lover.

“Why aren’t you cooking breakfast? Drake countered.

“I missed you,” Damien replied as he grabbed his washcloth.

Drake looked at him knowingly. “You think I’m going to do the cooking as well as the home improvements.” He shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Jolene would happily do it.”

“I’m not Jolene. And she needs to stay 50 feet away from your ass.”

“I love it when you’re jealous.”

Drake grabbed Damien around his waist and pushed his back against wet tile. “How about some … dessert before breakfast?”

Damien kissed Drake deeply. “Always down for dessert.”

“But only if you’re making it with me,” Drake clarified.

“Jolene only cooks breakfast.”

DC AU Drake (Issa throwback)

It was the morning after Drake Walker had broken up with Riley Brooks inside of the Columbia Heights Target. He hadn’t slept a wink and was hoping a hot shower would soothe his red, burning eyes and relax him enough to get some type of rest.

Or wash away his guilt.

He stepped beneath the water, wishing there was someone he could talk to, but he didn’t even have an explanation for what had happened. He wanted to call Brooks and see how she was holding up; they had been friends too long for it to just end that way. But Drake had no idea what to say to make it better, and she was hurting enough.

As he shampooed his hair, a memory came to him.

Drake was in the shower, his hair filled with suds and his conditioner bottle in his hand, his mouth to it as if it were a microphone. He was belting out Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5, and so caught up in the song he didn’t notice that Riley had slipped into the shower behind him.

She stood, her hands crossed over her chest as she giggled. Drake turned quickly, dropping the bottle; he grinned at her sheepishly. “You heard that, huh?”

“You’re missing the boobs and hair, but you kinda nailed it.”

“Ya think?” Drake picked up the conditioner.

“I didn’t peg you as a Dolly Parton fan.” Riley stepped in front of him to let the water wet her body.

“She is ICONIC, and we do not deserve her!” Drake began to shampoo his girlfriend’s hair. “Did you know rumor has it she wrote Jolene and I Will Always Love You on the same day?”

Riley squirted her rose and peony scented bodywash onto her washcloth. “Really? Homegirl was going through that day.”

“But she’s been married to her husband for over 50 years,” Drake pointed out.

Riley turned to face him. Her hands pressed against his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t have problems.” Her eyes looked into Drake’s, the slightest hint of uncertainty in them. “We’re good, right?”

Drake looked at her, puzzled. “Why do you ask that?”

“I just don’t want to be hurt. Or killed.”

Drake pulled Riley closer. “You’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies.”

“Maybe.” Riley laid her head on his shoulder. “I just … “

“Shhhhhh,” Drake interrupted her. “You’re it, Brooks. We’re good. We’ll always be good.”

Drake wiped a soapy cloth over his torso. He shook his head, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Brooks deserved an apology, an explanation. But he had to find the words, because right now it was looking like he was thinking with his dick.

And Alyssa Devereaux was so much more.

Devereaux. She deserved the truth.

Drake had to find a lotta words.

Fuck!

Another Dolly Parton song popped into his head and in a cracked voice, he began to sing.

I had to have this talk with you My happiness depends on you And whatever you decide to do Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him even though you can Jolene, Jolene

Tagging:  @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @janezillow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @ladyangel70 @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71

 #long post #dcbbw answers #Jolene ask #very slightly, lightly ns*w #drake walker

[maybedefinitely404]

Forgotten

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Logicality, familial DRLAMP

World: canon

Content: some strong language, forgotten birthday, food mentions/eating/appetite loss, overworking mention, sympathetic dark sides, self deprecation, lying, crying, fluffy sweetness, first kiss. 

Word Count: 4.7k

Comments: In my head, I pictured this as a 1k oneshot kinda deal. And then this happened. It’s still a oneshot, but like?? A big one?? Is there a size limit to a oneshot??

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have expected much. After all, he was always the one to remind everyone of their fellow side’s birthdays. He was the dad, the heart, and he loved the others with everything that he was, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he was the one to wake up before the sun had even properly risen to set up the whole downstairs. In past years, it had been Logan who had taken charge of Patton’s birthday; it was clear by their traditional birthday banner hung in a perfectly straight line, the streamers exactly one foot apart with no wiggle room, and the balloons all blown up to the exact same size. The cake in the evening was meticulously decorated with some printed picture of the baby animal Patton was obsessed with at the time and light blue frosting flowers on the side, and whatever activity Logan had planned in The Imagination (with Roman’s help, of course) always went off flawlessly. And I mean, what could you expect? Logan always had things planned weeks in advance, the multiple calendars above his bed and desk made sure of it. 

But knowing that Logan was always in charge of Patton’s birthdays and the fact that Thomas had a huge video deadline just around the corner still didn’t properly connect in his mind as he almost sprinted down the stairs, still in his pajamas. He screeched to a halt on the last step, his giddiness fading to sad confusion at the complete lack of… well, anything. Virgil was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, ignoring Roman who was dramatically reenacting his latest adventure. They both turned as he entered, giving a two finger salute and a loud “good morning” respectively. 

“Slept in much, pops? I was worried you weren’t going to make breakfast, and I am starving!” 

“You’re always starving, Princey.”

“Well, duh, have you seen the adventures I go on? Wait, were you not even paying attention?!” The two continued to bicker as Patton mutely walked into the kitchen, ignoring the way his heart felt like it had sunk to his stomach. Of course, of course, they wouldn’t have remembered. Virgil with his constant barrage of anxious, worst-case-scenario thoughts and Roman, head filled to overflowing with creative ideas.

Patton threw together some pancakes, almost in shock. The smell must have attracted Janus, because he trotted downstairs, tongue flicking out between his teeth unwillingly. 

“It smells awful. Pancakes?” 

“Mmhm,” the hum came out a bit more strangled than he would have liked, but no one seemed to notice, “I made extra. Dig in.”

They did just that, and Patton nibbled at his slowly, watching their faces. Was this just a ploy? Surely, they hadn’t forgotten. Birthdays were always the same tradition every time, maybe they just wanted to switch it up a bit? Lure him into a false sense of sadness, and then when he came back downstairs, the whole party would be set up? That had to be it. Surely. So he should probably leave them to it, right? Didn’t want to make their plan too difficult!

He quickly excused himself to go upstairs, suddenly alive with excitement again. His usually quick routine took him double as long as he kept reminding himself to slow down, give them time to set it up! It wouldn’t be much fun if he walked in half way through. He couldn’t help smiling to himself in his reflection, toothpaste covering his lips. It was gonna be a good day.

But when he came back downstairs, now fully dressed, he was surprised to see the state of the room hadn’t changed. Well, except for the fact that Janus was now standing next to the coffee table, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I think it’s ridiculous that even though poor Thomas got barely four hours of sleep, you’re still pushing him to finish this video today.”

“For the love of- we’ve been over this. He’s already past schedule, and he promised that it would be out this week! Do you want to be the reason that he disappoints over three million people? Do you really, Jan?”

“He will be able to work on it better if he at least takes a nap! The quality of his work is diminishing, and I’m quite sure his fans would rather see an amazing video two days late than whatever he’s making now, on time!”

“We have a schedule! Thomas can take a break when it’s done, and won’t it be more rewarding then?”

“He at least needs a nap!”

The two sides stopped their argument, breathing heavily as Patton took a ginger step down. “So what’s going on, guys?”

“Janus is insisting Thomas completely ignore his posting schedule!”

“Virgil isn’t letting Thomas rest, and god knows he needs it!”

“Okay, you know what?”

“What?!”

“I’m going out there, and I’m convincing Thomas to take a nap!”

“Not without me, you’re not!”

They both sunk out quickly, leaving Roman and Patton standing alone in the living room. Okay, so no surprise party after a let down. But… that’s okay, right? It’s not like he should have expected it. It’s wrong to expect something so big and then be upset when it doesn’t happen. And poor Logan, exhausted, having to keep Thomas going since he refused to rest. How dare Patton put himself first? That was wrong.

Maybe he could still have some quality time with Roman, at least.

“Hey kiddo, do you want to watch a movie with me? Your choice!”

“I would, but… shit, what time is it?” Patton checked his phone, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Language. And just before eleven, why?”

“I need to go to the Imagination, I’m almost late!”

The moral side couldn’t help the jolt of excitement that flowed through him at the words. “Oh really? Why?” Maybe they had planned something!

“Now that Remus and I are… getting along,” he made a disgusted face, “Or trying to, at least, we figured we should try to have an adventure again. Like old times, you know?”

“Yeah…” Patton forced a smile on his face, pushing down the disappointment, “That’s great for you guys! Proud of you, ki-”

“No time, Pat! He’s probably already waiting, and I don’t want to know what he’ll do if I’m late!”

And he sunk out. 

Patton stood in the silence, his breathing seeming almost deafening in the empty room. He let the smile drop from his face but kept the rest of his bad feelings down, reprimanding himself for letting his own desire to be appreciated coming before the other’s happiness. They probably wouldn’t have wanted to be bogged down by some birthday celebrations. Helping Thomas and bonding with your brother were more important, right?

“Right,” he murmured to himself, sitting himself into the corner of the couch. It felt so big, so bare without anyone sitting with him, and he curled his legs into his torso to take up as little space as possible. Pulling the blanket down from over the top and wrapping it tightly around his shoulders, he flipped on the TV and put on the first show that was displayed, not even bothering to read the title. 

If he pulled the blanket around him tightly enough and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was someone’s arms. 

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

When Thomas was tired, it reflected on all the sides. And he must have been exhausted, because the next thing Patton knew, he was waking up. The blanket was still wrapped around him and the TV was still playing the same show as before, yet the light had begun to fade outside the window. Had he really just slept through his entire birthday? Not that it mattered anyways, it’s not like anyone had any plans.

Stop that. He reprimanded, slowly standing up and stretching his aching back. And no more falling asleep on the couch. 

He hummed quietly to himself as he got a glass of water, downing the whole thing before refilling it. What was it about naps that always made you so thirsty when you woke up? In response, his stomach growled loudly, making Patton chuckle. Guess I should eat, too.

A look in the fridge revealed no leftovers from the week, and he really wasn’t in the mood to cook right now. His eyes settled on the Crofters jar, front and center on the top shelf, and he took it without thinking twice. His tune took on a more lighthearted melody as he waited for the toaster to pop, fiddling with a butter knife. 

He kept hoping, and hoping, and hoping, that Virgil would pop into the living room with Janus in tow, or the twins would start yelling upstairs to symbolize their return. Just for someone to remember him, to just give him a hug, shoot him a smile that wasn’t in exchange for pancakes. No, he reminded himself. They’re having a good day. Let them be. You don’t matter. 

He sat down at the table with his toast, glancing at the five empty seats around him. Even though he knew they had better things to do, and it was useless to dream, he couldn’t help but imagine all of them gathered together. The twins would fight and Janus would hit his head against the table and Logan would roll his eyes and Virgil would sulk in fake annoyance even while their pinkies were intertwined under the tablecloth. Remus would throw cake at Roman who would probably draw his sword in retaliation, Janus would yell at them to chill out, and Logan would excuse himself. They’d hear him scream in the distance before coming back, unruffled as always, and rejoin them at his usual seat. It would be chaotic and painful and long and exhausting but it would be his family. They’d all be together and it… it would be good. For once, they’d all be together.

Not like now, with everyone off doing their own things, and Patton staring numbly at his now cold toast, legs swinging slightly under his chair. With the jam covered knife, he poked the plate, drawing circles and stars around the perimeter. He wasn’t really hungry anymore. 

“Breakfast food for dinner? And stealing my Crofters? This is highly unusual, Patton.” Patton jumped, dropping the knife on the table with a loud clang. Logan continued, unaffected by the noise, “However, I suppose it can be excused today, what with it being your birthday.”

Patton froze, slowly turning to meet Logan’s stoic expression with a look of pure shock. “You… you remembered?”

“Of course. You always remember our birthdays, somehow, even without a calendar or any marker to indicate the day. I am able to leave that to you, and all we have to do is remember yours. It is actually quite a load off of my shoul-” He was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping firmly around his middle as Patton flung himself off the chair. He burrowed his nose into Logan’s shoulder, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” into the material. Hands slowly found their way around his shoulders, settling on the grey cardigan hesitantly.  

“Well,” Logan began, and Patton pulled away from him, a small smile etched into his face, “I apologize for not being available to partake in the festivities I’m sure the others planned. As you know, Thomas needed my assistance in researching and experimenting with a new editing technique. But now that is done with, so I’m free to join you.”

Patton tilted his head. “Join me?”

“Yes, for your oddly timed meal. Unless you don’t want me to, of course! I’d understand if you-” 

“No, Logan,” He said quietly, reaching down to take the other’s hand, “Please. I’d love if you joined me.”

Patton grinned at the way Logan’s cheeks flushed lightly, barely hesitating before replying with a choked out, “Wonderful.” They sat, and Patton gladly gave Logan one of his slices, his appetite hardly returned. 

“So,” Logan said around a mouthful of toast, “How was the party?”

“Oh! Uhm…” Should he tell the truth? Telling Logan that the others hadn’t planned anything, that they hadn’t even remembered… what would that do besides making Logan feel bad for not being there? But lying was… well, he could sort of understand where Janus was coming from now. “It was great!”

“What did you all do?”

“We… uhm… well, they set up the banner and everything, and it was super cool! And, uh, Roman made breakfast, so we ate that, and then… we went into the Imagination?” He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question. 

“Where is everyone now? I would think now would be the ideal time to eat dinner and cake.”

“They… Virgil and Janus knew they were going to be after Thomas for a while, and Roman and Remus… something went wrong in the Imagination that they had to… had to fix. So we did a birthday lunch instead.” It wasn’t a total lie, right? 

“Something wrong with the imagination? Are they alright?”

“YUP!” Patton yelped all too quickly, “Yup, they’re all good! They just had to… ya know. Ya know how they are!”

“I…” Logan narrowed his eyes a bit, giving Patton a look that told him he wasn’t fooling anyone. Whether Logan understood what his frantic bumbling was trying to cover or not, he didn’t show. “Alright. And did you open presents already? I was hoping to give you mine at the same time.”

Patton couldn’t help the butterflies that exploded in his stomach, almost making him feel sick from pure elation. “You got me a present?”

“Yes, isn’t that customary for one’s birthday?” The slight twinkle in his eye made Patton smile. He fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a thin box wrapped in blue wrapping paper that just fit in the palm of his hand. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it-”

He cut himself off, letting Patton take the small box in almost a state of wonder. The wrapping paper was quickly thrown to the side and he pulled off the lid, letting out a small gasp involuntarily. Logan explained quickly.

“I saw a similar product online, and I tried to copy it to the best of my ability. Unfortunately my conjuring skills are not as precise as Roman’s, so it is not as detailed as the ones I attempted to imitate. But…” He took Patton’s phone from where it had been sitting on the table and turned on the flashlight, lifting the necklace from the box to shine the light through the transparent center, “I kept trying and trying, until I got this part exactly right, even if the exterior is flawed,” The necklace worked like a projector, and it took Patton a second to realize that the dots now showing on the opposite wall were stars. “It’s as accurate to the night sky as I could make it. And right there,” he gestured vaguely with his chin to a section in the middle, where a clump of stars stood brighter than the rest, “Is the Hercules constellation.”

“Logan… I…” Patton couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes as he looked between Logan and the stars on the wall. The logical side saw the tears and immediately tensed up, placing the necklace and phone back down.

“I apologize, did I do something wrong? I can-”

“No,” He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands, laughing slightly, “No, it’s amazing. Thank you, Logan. Really.”

Patton picked up the necklace almost reverently. Logan was right, the outside was messy. The circle outline was wonky and crooked, and he couldn’t tell if the little scratches around the rim were intentional (numbers, maybe?) or accidental. But to him, it was perfect. 

“Could you put it on me?” He held it out to the man in front of him, letting the pendant dangle between his fingers. And goodness, seeing Logan give a flustered nod and take the necklace with shaking fingers was an image he never wanted out of his mind. 

Patton turned around in his chair, tilting his head down as Logan stood up behind him. The moment seemed to last forever and ended all too quickly; the ghost of Logan’s fingers against his neck that sent a shiver down his spine, the cool pendant against his collarbone, the way the taller man rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder blade when it was securely fastened. Patton swore to himself never to tell Logan about the hundreds of times he’d put on his own necklaces before. 

He took his phone, the flashlight still on, and shone it through the necklace, admiring the night sky before him.

“What did you say the constellation was, Lo?”

Logan cleared his throat roughly, now standing beside him, the very tips of his ears on fire. “Hercules.”

Patton giggled lightly. “Why that one?” 

For a moment, the other man was completely silent, and Patton feared he’d said something wrong. He looked up at Lo only to find him staring back with intensity that could challenge Remus. The taller man let out a heavy sigh before resting on the back of Patton’s chair, moving his attention to the projection. He could either say something meaningful or make eye contact; both was too much. 

“Patton, I know the way you think about yourself. That you’re not worth caring for, or that everyone around you is more important, and I know you figuratively beat yourself up when you need to put yourself first. And I’m not good with emotions, I’m frankly quite terrible with them, and I am unsure how to comfort you when these thoughts enter your head. I just want you to know that… you’re stronger than you think, Patton. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Pat nearly dropped the phone, turning up to face Logan again. And he just couldn’t help but notice how close they were… so close their noses were almost touching, so close he could see every detail in Logan’s eyes, so close that he could feel Logan’s breath on his lips and more suddenly then he could process, he realized he wanted to kiss Logan. He wanted to kiss him so bad.

He didn’t have a second to ponder this new thought before Logan closed the space between them, connecting their lips softly and Patton’s heart exploded. How had he gone this long without realizing he had a crush on the huge space nerd he lived with? Was he that obliviously gay? The necklace slipped from his fingers as he reached up, hands tangling in Logan’s hair as a silent sign that this is okay oh god it is so much more than okay.

When they finally pulled apart, panting, Patton couldn’t help the tiny laugh that bubbled out of his chest.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“My apologies. I should have asked beforehand.”

“No, don’t be! You’re so adorable, Logie.” Patton giggled at the way Logan’s face turned even redder, finally standing up from his chair. “Do you want to watch a movie? If you don’t have to help Thomas, that is.”

That’s the way birthdays usually ended in the mindscape. After tearing through presents and doing a sad excuse for clean up, they’d all watch a movie of the birthday-side’s choice. It usually ended with a few, if not all of them, fast asleep on the couch. If Logan was still awake, he’d usher them all into bed, preaching about proper sleeping habits. If he’d also conked out, however, no one complained to a huge sleepover all over the living room. The cuddles were something Patton looked forward to more than any gift. 

Only now it was just him and Logan, which definitely was not a bad thing, but his little squeak of joy when Logan nodded mutely was not as bright as it usually was. The logic side didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he was just distracted by the way Patton cuddled into his side as soon as the movie started. He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him as the title sequence for Hercules ran across the TV, and Patton almost leapt at the sound, delighted. 

His joy didn’t last, though. Watching the gods argue only reminded him of his own family in a way that made him want to slap himself. Couldn’t he enjoy anything anymore? But goodness, Hades just had Virgil’s essence down to a tee, and Zeus was too similar to Roman to just let it slide… He wondered what they were doing right now. He had to admit, though foolish as it was, that even while he was preparing his make-shift toast dinner and eating with Logan and turning on the movie, that maybe this was all an elaborate ploy. That any second, they’d all rise up with decorations and cake and shout “Happy Birthday!” and that they hadn’t really forgotten him.

Maybe that’s why he got so incredibly excited when Janus and Virgil popped in out of nowhere, now much more relaxed then when they’d left earlier. But that stupid stupid hope was vanquished as Virgil collapsed next to him on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Fine, you were right. Thomas needed the stupid nap. Are you happy?”

“Not at all,” Janus smirked, turning to the TV, “What are we watching? Oh, Hercules? I despise this movie.” He dropped onto the floor in a satisfied heap, leaning against Virgil’s legs. Neither of them acknowledged the tiny affectionate gesture, so Patton decided to ignore it too.

Like they ignored you.

Just as Hercules met Meg for the first time, there was a loud shriek upstairs and loud thumping as a blur of red and white tumbled down the stairs, cursing all the way. 

“You son of a bitch!”

Janus glanced at the lump of prince at the bottom of the stairs, pleased. “Ah, he took my suggestion.” 

Remus followed after him, giggling to himself. He stepped over Roman giddily, making his way over to the group and splaying himself across Janus’ lap. “You proud o’ me, Snakey?”

“Never.” 

Roman brushed himself off, joining the group with an angry grumble about “wasted bonding time”. And Patton wanted to be happy, he wanted to so badly, because he was finally in a group with his family, and that’s all he wanted, right? Then why did it feel tainted? On a normal night, watching a movie as a group wasn’t unusual, so he could just pretend that it was that. A normal, non-birthday night. That’s all it was. 

Because if it was a birthday night, he’d be in the middle of the weird cuddle pile that Virgil, Janus, and Remus had formed. Roman would be running his fingers through his hair, not Virgil’s, and they would give up their stupid bickering for one evening so they could focus on him, but no, that’s just selfish and he can’t ask for that. He didn’t even notice he was crying until Logan’s arms tightened around him and he looked up, meeting his confused eyes, and giving his head a small shake to show not now. And he really didn’t want to be held right now, he realized in shock, and gently untangled himself from Logan’s arms to sit alone, untouched, against the couch that suddenly felt it was filled with rocks instead of fluff. Logan complied with a sigh, turning his attention back to the fight at Olympus. 

Patton had never once in his life been happy that a movie night was over until now. As the credits began to roll, Logan stood stiffly, popping his back. The other sides were in varying states of sleep, exhausted from the day. 

“It’s not healthy for you all to sleep on the floor. At least try to get yourselves to your beds,” Logan bent down and gave Patton a chaste kiss on the head, letting his hand linger on his cheek for a moment. And then he uttered the words Patton hadn’t even realized he was dreading. 

“Happy birthday again, Patton. Goodnight, everyone.”

Never had Patton seen anyone wake up as fast as the other sides did as Logan froze on the steps, not expecting the commotion. Roman was the first to break the silence that followed.

“Is it-”

“Fuck.” Virgil dropped his face into his hands.

“It is. It definitely is.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh god, we’re such idiots.”

“No!” Patton interrupted, quickly putting on the biggest smile he could muster, “It’s okay, you guys! Really!”

Janus stood up slowly, as if scared moving too quickly would spook him, “Patton, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because…” Whether the sounds that were ripped from his throat were laughs or  sobs, or some weird mix in between, he’d never know, “Because you guys had other stuff to worry about! You-” He pointed to Janus and Virgil, “Had to help Thomas, and you-” To the twins, “Had that whole bonding thing planned! I wasn’t about to remind you of something you didn’t even care about in the first place!”

He slapped his hand to his mouth as soon as the words slipped out, the laugh disappearing into a horrified gasp. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” It was barely a whisper. Patton didn’t wait to see the looks on the other’s faces. He pushed past Logan and bolted up the stairs, finally letting the tears he’d held at bay the entire day stream down his cheeks. 

Usually, his “no lock on the door” invitation was meant to remind the others that he was always there for them, and they’d never meet a locked door if they needed him. However, now as he curled up facing the wall, crying freely for the first time in who knows how long, he wished there was a lock to stop whoever had just walked into his room. The side was quiet, standing in his doorway, and Patton just wished whoever it was would walk away. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, he didn’t want to look in their guilt filled eyes and listen to them apologize, because how well would that even go? He’d insist it’s okay when on the inside he feels shattered, and he wouldn’t drop it until they agreed with him, and then everyone would feel better except him and maybe a tiny, tiny, part of him was sickeningly pleased that they were upset. That realization made him want to throw up. He let out another unmuffled sob as the nausea churned in his stomach.

Patton felt the bed dip as the person sat just behind him, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

“I wish you would have told me, Patton.”

Logan.

“Th-they forgot ab-about me,” he choked out, struggling to no avail to push down the hiccupy sobs. Logan sighed. There was nothing he could say that could make the situation better. The facts were there. The sides had forgotten about Patton’s birthday, a day that Patton cherished greatly. Patton never forgot anyone, and that had not been reciprocated. 

“The whole d-day, I thou-thought that it was just… just a bi-big surprise. Or that they’d rem-remember later. But they didn’t.”

Another sigh. “Patton, can you look at me?” 

He rolled over slowly, letting go of the pillow he was curled around. Even in the dim light, Logan could make out the tear tracks curving down his cheeks, the redness of eyes, the look of complete and utter heartbreak. As gently as he could, he pulled on Patton’s hands until he got the message to sit up.  

“I’m sorry. I truly am.” 

Logan wasn’t one for emotions, or feelings, or anything of the sort. It went against all logic, afterall. But he would be lying if he said the way Patton threw himself around him and clung to him like the world was ending didn’t somehow fill in a piece of his heart that he didn’t know was missing. He’d gotten a lot of hugs from the moral side, yet this one was different. It wasn’t brought on by joy or a ‘goodnight’ or a simple need for human contact. This was so much more. It was pain and anger and raw emotion that of course Patton felt, as the heart, but never showed. Whether all of that was aimed at the others or Patton himself would be a conversation for when he wasn’t sobbing brokenly into his shoulder, in the morning when they had to face the reactions of the group. 

For now, they both relished in the feeling of whatever they had, something more than friendship but again, that was a topic for tomorrow. Tonight it was just them, Patton’s twinkling fairy lights, and the star necklace trapped between their beating hearts.

[onemuseleft]

@placidia: For the prompt ask:  #6 and Weilan.

#6: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

***

Morning came too soon.

Shen Wei woke as the sunlight hit his face, but it was gentle. He lay there for a long moment, savoring the warmth of the blankets, the soft rumbling purr of Da Qing from somewhere nearby, the way his pillow smelled like Kunlun. He ached, though not from battle or injury. He felt as if he’d been worn thin from stress and worry, and his body was finally starting to rebel.

Beside him, Kunlun sighed heavily in his sleep and Shen Wei’s heart grew immediately lighter.

He reached out and laid his hand on Kunlun’s hip, content with that little touch. It was more than enough to know his lover was there with him, safe and healthy and alive. Shen Wei could face whatever else the day brought with it, with Kunlun at his side and at his back. 

He drifted for a few moments longer. He couldn’t hear the sounds of camp getting ready, though if the sun had already risen, surely the others were beginning to rise as well. But there would be some time yet before the cooks had breakfast ready and he and Kunlun would be needed to patrol and council meetings. Time to rest a few minutes longer, surrounded by the warmth and sounds and scent of the man he loved.

He was on the verge of drifting off again when Kunlun shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his side and into Shen Wei’s chest. His breath was warm and soft against Shen Wei’s throat, and he brought his arm up to hold Kunlun closer, reveling in the feeling of his skin beneath Shen Wei’s fingers, the way his hand instinctively reached for him, holding him back as he settled against Shen Wei with a sigh.

Then Kunlun snapped awake with a startled yell and the squeal of angry bed springs, and Shen Wei was awake instantly.

He had his hand out, ready to summon his weapon, and the only thing that stopped him was the sight of Zhao Yunlan staring at him with wide eyes from half a foot away.

Zhao Yunlan.

Shen Wei’s head snapped up and he took in the room around him. Zhao Yunlan’s apartment. He was in Zhao Yunlan’s apartment, not the tent he’d shared with Kunlan a hundred lifetimes ago. For a moment the loss was new again and he swallowed thickly, his eyes and the back of his skull hot with unshed tears.

And then the realization that he was not only in Zhao Yunlan’s apartment, but in his bed struck him and he snapped his head back to meet Zhao Yunlan’s eyes. 

“Shen Wei,” Zhao Yunlan said cautiously. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“I am not-” Shen Wei stopped himself because it was rapidly becoming clear to him that he was, in fact, naked in Zhao Yunlan’s bed. He gathered the duvet and tugged it a little higher up his chest. “Forgive me,” he said. “I- this is very inappropriate. I beg your apology. I will leave at once.”

“Let me get you some pants first,” Zhao Yunlan said, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “The neighbors will probably appreciate it.” His eyes drifted low for a moment, lingering on Shen Wei’s chest. “Or not,” he added under his breath, and Shen Wei fought back a rush of arousal. It was too much, too soon after that dream - having Kunlun so close and yet so utterly lost to him was too much and Shen Wei couldn’t be there another moment.

“I can open a gate,” he said. “I apologize. It won’t happen again, I swear to you.”

“You don’t have to swear anything to me,” Zhao Yunlan said. “But an explanation might be nice instead? I don’t remember you coming in.”

Shen Wei had a key to the apartment, but of course he wouldn’t have needed it. Not when he had the ability to transport himself via gate. No, it seemed most likely that in his exhaustion, his mind caught up in the memory of Kunlun, his subconscious had sought out Zhao Yunlan’s company.

It was an unforgivable lapse of control, and an unforgivable breach of courtesy. “I believe I must have transported myself in my sleep. I was - tired. After our fight with Zhu Jiu. And,” he swallowed, trying to figure out how much was safe to say, how much he owed Zhao Yunlan to admit, after this scene. “I was concerned about you. After using the Hallow, and fighting Zhu Jiu. I believe my subconscious must have…. Sought you out,” he finished softly, lowering his eyes to the duvet, clenched in his fists. None of that explained why he was naked, but he was hoping Zhao Yunlan would just assume that was how he normally slept and not ask any questions Shen Wei couldn’t answer yet.

“You were worried,” Zhao Yunlan said slowly. 

It had been a hellish few days, and their relationship, the burgeoning friendship, the tease of something more that had been slowly flourishing between them had taken a great deal of damage when Zhao Yunlan confronted him at the wedding. They would recover - they would, Shen Wei had to believe it - but this must seem to Zhao Yunlan to be one more reason not to trust him.

“I am sorry,” he said, and the words came out helpless and tired to his own ears. He could still feel the warmth of Kunlun’s - of Zhao Yunlan’s breath against his throat, still smell him, still feel the warmth of his skin. It was maddening and cruel, a tease of what he wanted more than almost anything else in this world, and everything he couldn’t have. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. “I spent so much time afraid Zhu Jiu had - I just wanted to know you were safe.” He swallowed, closed his eyes for a moment. “Regardless, this was a wildly inappropriate thing to do, and it won’t happen again. Excuse me, please, I’ll-”

He’s already reaching for his dark energy to summon a gate that can take him back to his own apartment when Zhao Yunlan wrapped his hand around Shen Wei’s wrist.

Not violently, or angrily. Just strong, warm fingers holding him carefully. “Shen Wei,” he said in a gentle voice. “It’s all right. I’m not angry.”

“You should be,” Shen Wei pointed out. He looked up and Zhao Yunlan was watching him with dark eyes. “A man you barely know has just invaded your home-”

“I know you,” Zhao Yunlan said. “Don’t give me that. Maybe not for long. And you certainly have your secrets,” his tone was rueful but not angry or sarcastic as he had been at the wedding and Shen Wei felt a flicker of hope, “but I know who you are. I know what kind of person you are. Remember what I said last night? You can pretend to be heartless all you want, but I know you care.” His voice dropped, little more than a whisper. “You have a good heart, Shen Wei.” 

The moment stretched for a moment, thin and almost endless. Then Zhao Yunlan took a deep breath and smiled at him. “And you have a key, so clearly I want you around.” He patted the back of Shen Wei’s hand. “Thank you for worrying about me. Now go back to sleep.”

Shen Wei blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“You look awful,” Zhao Yunlan said. “You look about half as tired as I feel and that’s not great for either of us. You need the sleep. I need the sleep - clearly, since I didn’t hear you open a giant swirling vortex in the middle of my apartment. Go back to sleep.”

“But.” Shen Wei clutched the duvet a little tighter to his chest.

“I can get you a pair of pants if it will make you feel better.” Zhao Yunlan yawned so wide his jaw popped and his eyes nearly drifted shut again. “But honestly, I don’t care. It’s barely dawn, neither of us needs to be awake for hours yet, and if your subconscious feels better about you being here, then you should stay.”

“I can’t,” Shen Wei said, barely a whisper. “Zhao Yunlan, you don’t understand.”

Zhao Yunlan reached out carefully and brushed a strand of hair from Shen Wei’s forehead. His fingers were gentle and warm, and Shen Wei leaned into the touch without any conscious decision on his part. Something aching and needful in him flared and all he wanted in the world was for more of this. More of Zhao Yunlan’s touch, his voice, the sound of his heart beating beneath Shen Wei’s ear, the press of his body to Shen Wei’s - a thousand things, so close he could nearly grasp them. 

But all still a lifetime away. A hundred lifetimes.

“I can’t,” he said again, and closed his eyes.

Zhao Yunlan moved, and the old mattress shifted beneath Shen Wei, the springs creaking. Zhao Yunlan wrapped a hand around the back of Shen Wei’s neck and leaned in close, pressed their foreheads together. “Shen Wei,” he said in a low voice. “I know you. And I do understand.”

And Zhao Yunlan kissed him.

It was soft, more reassurance than passion, but Zhao Yunlan’s mouth on his was sweeter than water, more precious than air. Shen Wei opened his eyes so he could see Zhao Yunlan’s face and know this was real.

When Zhao Yunlan pulled back, he was smiling.

Shen Wei couldn’t hold back the sob that worked its way out of his throat. He pressed a hand against his mouth, dragged in a shaking breath. 

Zhao Yunlan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, held him against his chest as he eased them both back down to the pillows. “We’re both safe,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down Shen Wei’s back. “We made it. We’re all right. Now go to sleep, Shen Wei. Everything else can wait till morning.” He kissed Shen Wei’s forehead, just a brush of lips, almost unbearably tender to Shen Wei’s aching heart.

He could feel Zhao Yunlan’s breath against his temple, the warmth of his arms around Shen Wei’s waist, taste the memory of his lips.

A thousand things, perhaps somewhat less than a thousand lifetimes away.

Everything he wanted. Possibly just close enough to reach out and take.

He lifted his hand and laid it over Zhao Yunlan’s heart and let the familiar cadence lull him back to sleep.

[ak47stylegirl]

Sick days: Chapter 11

Okay here’s chapter 11! XD 

Poor Allie isn’t having a good time at all 😞😟😭This cold is really being horrible to him, and he’s struggling to deal with it. (Partly because of his age, he’s still very much young child, the poor baby 😥)

Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 😁

Rest of the chapters found here. 

---

Alan pov

He blinked his eyes open; his vision was blurry as he took in his room. It was still dark out, the sun having not risen yet. It was still night-time. He squinted at the digital clock on his bedside table, trying to see what time it actually was.

12:43 am  

He groaned in misery, rolling over to lay on his other side. He has been up for the last 30 minutes now, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get back to sleep! His head felt like a balloon about to pop, his horrible headache not going away for even a moment, and his nose would not stop running, so he needed to blow and wipe it frequently.

Which kept him up and made his nose burn like fire. 

His throat felt like someone had poured hot metal down it, and it hurt so, so much to breathe. And it seemed like he was solely breathing through his mouth, unable to get any air through his swollen nose. 

And that made it hurt so much more! He thought as he broke out into coughing fit, spluttering everywhere as he tried to sit up a bit to lessen the feeling that he was suffocating. His arms gave out beneath him, causing him to collide cheek first with his pillow. 

He whimpered, still coughing slightly. He didn’t feel well, not even a little bit, he thought as he rolled over again, this time onto his back. He felt like he was drowning in sweat, he felt so overwhelmingly hot and feverish he was surprised he hasn’t combusted into flames yet. 

But at the same time, he was also shivering from the cold; he felt so weird. He was cold, then he was hot, then he was freezing, then he was boiling, and it started all over again! 

His blanket was discarded at his feet as he had kicked it off a while ago and he just didn’t have the energy to...to-

He sneezed into the open air, watching with tired watery eyes as the sneeze particles floated in the air above him, before landing back down on his face. He sniffled damply, feeling another sneeze building before launching forward, catching it with his hand. 

Only to realise that he now had snot all over his hand and face, thick gunky snot running down to his chin. He moaned as he reached blindly for a tissue, wiping his nose with what felt like sandpaper. 

He blew into the tissue, making his ears pop and his head hurt. He could hear himself groan, even to his own ears, he sounded dreadfully sick and congested. 

Maybe if he could just fall asleep, he'd feel better, he thought as he rolled on to his side again, throwing the tissue off the bed. 

He didn’t care where it landed; he felt too sick to care about anything. He looked at the clock one last time.

12:57 am

He whimpered and closed his eyes tight, forcing himself to focus on sleep and not how terribly sick and tired he felt. He just needed to sleep; he felt so tired, he just wanted some sleep…

He felt himself drift off…

---

1:34 am 

He stared at the number, barely able to think straight as he continued to stare and stare. He had only been asleep for half an hour, and he couldn’t even really call that sleep. He had been constantly tossing and turning, on the edge of sleep, but his body refused to let him get there. 

He wailed softly, covering his eyes with his arms as he started to sob. He just wanted to sleep, why was that so hard?! Salty tears ran down his cheek and down the sides of his nose, causing his already sore and swollen runny nose to burn. 

He sniffled, his nose running so much that his upper lip was starting to get really sore as it was constantly moist. He wiped at his nose haphazardly, trying to stop the flow to no avail.

His breath caught, and he started to hitch, sneezing all over himself once again. For the next couple of minutes, all he did was sneeze and wipe his nose, falling into a foul trance of misery. 

He groaned, wet tissue held over his burning red nose. He hesitantly removed it and threw it away, thinking the sneezing fit was over for the moment, but then his nostrils flared, and his breath caught again, and the cycle started all over again. 

As he reached for another tissue, his eyes watering immensely, he saw the time on his clock. 

2:04 am. 

He stared, his hand frozen in mid-air just above the tissue box, his nose dripping relentlessly. 

He has been sneezing and wiping his nose for almost half an hour; he realised in horror as his nose started to protect not being tended to soon enough as it began to flare and twitch. 

An unbearable itch built in his nostrils, causing him to gasp and hitch as he desperately tried to grab a tissue and bring it up to his nose in time, but it was too late, he launched forward and sneezed all over himself and his side table. 

He groaned in misery, collapsing back down against his pillow, tissue held to his nose. This was going to be a long night…

---

He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable no matter what he did. He felt so hot and bothered, but he also felt so cold, so he was constantly pulling his blanket back on or removing it. 

He sneezed into his pillow, which turned into a throat tearing coughing fit. He moaned as he wiped his nose, he just couldn’t win...

He coughed again and heaved himself up on his elbows, starting to cough so harshly he was almost gagging. He felt like he was going to be sick as his chest rattled with each painful cough, his elbows starting to shake and tremble beneath him.

All of his limbs felt like lead and were getting harder to move each minute he couldn’t get to sleep; he felt so light-headed and weak. His elbows finally gave way, causing him to slam suddenly into his pillow mid cough, making it one thousand times more painful. 

He glanced over at his clock and groaned, covering his eyes with his arms.

2:40 am

---

Just as he was about to fall slightly asleep, nature decided to call and complain that they haven’t talked since yesterday morning. In other words, he was bursting to go to the toilet, he thought with a groan, clenching his stomach.

He felt so exhausted and so, so very sick and out of it at this point that he was tempted to just go where he laid instead of getting up. It wasn’t like his brothers would be surprised by it because after all, he has a history of accidentally wetting the bed from time to time. 

And it was becoming a serious challenge just to hold it, he thought with a whimper, crawled up into a slight ball, his legs held tightly together. And he was sure if he didn’t get up soon, he would have an accident no matter what. 

It was only the fact that he would have to lay in his mess for the rest of the night, (Or get Scott and tell him he wet the bed, either way, he would still need to get up...) that made him slowly sit up and swing his legs off the edge of the bed. 

He pushed himself off the bed, and instantly regretted it, having stood up too fast. He latched onto the bedside table swallowing deeply as he suddenly felt dreadfully dizzy and nauseous. 

He swallowed deeply, almost having an accident there and then, but he was able to catch himself with only a little bit escaping, wetting his undies slightly. But unfortunately, it was wet enough to make the need to go even more intense. 

He whimpered, making his way out of his room the quickest he could, stepping out into the dark, empty hallway. His bare feet touched the cold wood floor, causing shivers to run down his spine. 

He didn't like the dark, and he was suddenly freezing, shivering where he stood. 

(which did not make holding his bladder any easier, his wet undies were freezing cold against his skin.) 

He clenched his door handle, scared to wander into the dark, but his need to go to the toilet overpowered his fear. 

He leaned heavily against the wall for support as he made his way to the toilet room, navigating the hallway the best he could in the state he was in. It was like every step he made seemed to drain his energy more and more, he thought with a little groan, turning left of Gordon’s bedroom and into a little mini hallway. 

The bathroom door was to his right, adjacent Gordon’s bedroom and the toilet room was right in front of him, at the end of the hallway. The momentary relief was almost instantly replaced with horror as his control over his bladder started to slip away at an alarmingly fast speed.

And what followed was a mad dash to turn the toilet room light on, close the door, lift the toilet lid, get his pants and undies down and do all that before he fully and thoroughly wet himself. 

After he finished doing his business, somehow just making it in time with his pyjama pants and undies only getting slightly wet. He stepped out of the toilet room feeling drained of all of his energy, the adrenaline-filled run having used all of it up.

His head was throbbing from the sudden light change, and now that his bladder wasn’t screaming at him anymore, all the other things that had been ailing him all night started to speak up, he thought with a congested sniffle, entering the bathroom. 

He turned the bathroom light on, whimpering slightly at the brightness of the room. The itch in his nose, which he had started to dread feeling, came back full force and left him sneezing multiple times into his elbow, the world spinning around him.  

He grabbed the door frame to steady him, for a second feeling like he was going to throw up. He sniffled damply, his nose dripping immensely, but he didn’t have any tissues on him, so he wiped his nose with his palm.

And almost started crying as his swollen red nose screamed at him, stinging so much that his eyes began to water even more. He sniffled, he just wanted to sleep….

He slowly made his way to the sink, pushing the little stool that normally stood to the side, in front of the sink. He needed the stool to reach the sink, as he was still too small to reach it on his own. 

He stepped onto the stool and turned the tap on, washing his hands with soap like his brothers’ taught him, the cold water feeling nice against his hot, feverish skin. He glanced up at the mirror in front of him and felt his shoulders drop; he looked just as sick and exhausted as he felt...

His eyes were red-rimmed and watery, with dark purple shallows developing under them. His skin was blotchy and covered in sweat, really pale in places but also flushed red from fever in other places, like his cheeks. And the thing that stood out the most, the thing that had been causing him the most misery, was his nose. 

It was rubbed raw, a bright irritated red that stood out against his otherwise pale skin; thick oozing snot hanging out of his inflamed nostrils.  

He stepped down from the stool and walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn the lights off as he made his way back to his bedroom in a daze, feeling too sick and exhausted for his brain to function correctly. 

He collapsed belly first onto his bed with a groan, crawling up to his pillow and crawling up into a ball of misery, catching a glimpse of the time.

3:38 am

---

The sun was taunting him! Because with every inch it crawled higher into the sky, lighting his room up, was another minute of possible sleep slipping from his fingers like sand. 

The sun rising was concrete proof of how little sleep he has gotten, and his sick body was struggling to function on so little sleep. His symptoms had steadily worsened as his body gave way to the cold virus that was wracking his system, unable to fight properly in its exhausted state. 

He coughed weakly, staring blankly up at his ceiling, his eyes glazed over with fever and fatigue. His nose decided it wanted in on the ‘fun’ and started to itch, his red nostrils getting damper by the minute. 

He brought his hand up as he hitched and gasped, the itch in his nose getting unbearable until-

He launched forward and sneezed into his hand, some of the stray missing his hand and floating in the air above him. He sniffled and instantly regretted it as that triggered another sneeze, this one bigger and more out of control than the last. 

Which was followed by another one, and another. By the time he was done sneezing, his nose was streaming relentlessly, and his hand and lower face was covered in snot. 

He groaned in agony, coughing slightly as he reached for a tissue. He gently wiped his nose and upper lip, whimpering as the tissue tore across his swollen nose like sandpaper. He threw the used tissue away and grabbed another one with a stuffy sniffle, being it up to his nose and blowing into it.

His ears popped and his head screamed, his headache worsening. He blinked wetly up at the ceiling, tissue still held over his nose, a couple of tears leaking out of the side of his barely opened eyes. He was so tired...

He sniffled into the tissue, his nose starting to feel irradiated and itchy again. His stomach churned at the sensation, dread filling his entire being as he began to hitch and gasp again, before launching forward and sneezing into the already soaked tissue.

Five more powerful and moist sneezes followed, each getting messier and more out of control. By the time he was finally finished sneezing, he was shaking, and tissue in his hand had almost pulp, completely soaked through.

He moaned as he dropped it off the bed, reaching for another tissue but his hand met thin air. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sat up slightly and reached for the tissue box, spotting the time on his clock briefly.

4:25 am 

His tissue box was empty; he had no more fresh tissues, he realised as he stared down at the empty box, his nose starting to twitch and flare again as another sneeze built. He sneezed all over himself and all over the bedside table, unable to cover in time.

He swayed where he sat, feeling so awfully sick and light-headed, in desperate need of sleep but unable to get any. He collapsed back down onto his pillow with a groan, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to keep the tears away. 

His nose was running, and no amount of sniffling was going to stop it. And to make things even worse, he sneezed again, causing the snot to run even more. He rolled onto his side and spotted a scrunched up tissue lying near the edge of his bed; he grimaced as he reached for it, bringing it up to his nose.

Using the dirty tissue wasn’t pleasant; it was damp and soaked already, the moisture irritating his nose as it was rubbed across his nose. But It was better than using his hand, even if it still left his nose somewhat wet. 

---

He heard Scott get up for his morning run a while ago, which told him it was around five in the morning. And his clock confirmed that fact.

5:24 am 

He would have called out to Scott, (oh he so wanted to) but he just didn’t have the energy, and his throat felt like someone took a razor blade to it, and then poured molten tar down it, so he really couldn’t...

Everything hurt so much, he thought with a whimper, crawled into a ball facing his window. His nose was one hundred times worse now ever since he had to start using the dirty used tissues, his nose glistening with moisture as it glowed bright irritated red. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, and he was flashing in and out of sleep, never able to stay asleep for more than a couple of minutes at most. He could barely move, his limbs feeling boneless and immensely heavy, not wanting to work for him.

The whole act of reaching for a tissue and blowing/wiping his nose, was so exhausting, leaving him so drained. He felt so hot and bothered, his pyjamas soaked with sweat. But he was also getting cold chills, which left him shivering and shaking where he laid. 

One minute he was overwhelmingly hot, and then the other, he was freezing cold, wishing for his blanket which he had kicked off the bed.

He didn’t have the energy to sit up and get it; he barely had the strength to blow his nose, let alone do that, he thought as he broke into a coughing fit, his chest heaving and rattling with each cough. 

He just wanted to get some sleep, any sleep, he thought with a damp sniffle, a used tissue clenched in his hand. He sniffled again, before sneezing into his pillow. 

He brought the tissue up and dabbed at his nose, feeling too weak to do much else. The dirty tissue didn’t really work; it just spread the snot around instead of wiping it up. 

It felt like he was wiping wet sandpaper back and forth his sore nose. His upper lip was feeling the pain as well, seeing as his runny nose dripped onto it.

And he was breathing through his mouth, which was starting to chap and dry his lips out and in turn made them sore. 

He heard voices in the hallway, which sound like Scott and Virgil. Scott must have gotten back from his run, he thought, coughing as he glanced over at his clock. 

5:47 am 

Usually, six or six-thirty was the time Scott and Virgil would get them up for school, Scott getting up an hour earlier to fit in his morning run. John and Virgil woke up earlier than him or Gordon as well, but he knew for Virgil it was out of necessity, not a choice. 

He didn’t know if John was a morning person or not, he was normally gone by the time he woke up, as John had to catch a train into the city and be at his collage by eight at the latest. 

He sniffled, before starting to hitch, breaking into a loud and messy sneezing fit, which was followed by an equally violent coughing fit. 

The hallway went silent.

His bedroom door cracked open, causing him to look over with a sickly groan. Scott was standing in the doorway, his hair wet from his morning shower, with a concerned expression on his face.

“Allie, are you okay?” Scott asked softly, opening the door a little more. “You don’t need to be up yet sweetie..”

He blinked, his exhausted brain taking a while to realise that Scott, his big brother, was standing right there, but once it did? His face scrunched up, all of the night’s frustrations and sorrows rising to the surface. 

And he burst into tears, wailing loudly.

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 2 - Facades, Family and Forgery

Chapter 2 already, wow! We are now 10k words in and there is no fucking way this story will be told in under 10 chapters. I guess more fun for you readers? This chapter is mostly me figuring out the different plot threads out. And to do the Jaskier has ADHD tag justice. The executive dysfunction is strong in that one. Also, I am still looking for a beta reader for this fic, if you’re interested.

Summary: Jaskier wakes up with two new additions to his household. Time to get the plan on tracks. 

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

Read on AO3

When Jaskier woke up the next morning he couldn't quite force himself to get out of bed. There were days like that, he knew. When the world outside of his pillows and blankets just wasn't interesting enough to lure him out of his heavy cocoon of warmth and bliss. Not that the world inside was any more interesting, but at least he didn't have to move to get there.

It wasn't as if there weren't enough things to do. Melitele have mercy, there was a whole fucking lot to do. There had been some complaints about taxes lately what with the war and a cow had died on the far end of Lettenhove and then there was the matter with Cirilla and Geralt and- ughhh.

He flopped over on his stomach. "It's too much," he complained into his pillow.

He supposed he really should get up, though. The matter of the lost princess half the continent was looking for in his house was somewhat time sensitive, after all.

Ah, there was the other problem. Not only had he woken up already bored, he had also woken up feeling guilty. He wasn't a cruel man; he didn't want anyone to suffer. Anyone but Geralt, and even him just a little bit. He was just angry and he didn't think he'd be able to trust him again for a long time and- great, his mind was getting side-tracked again.

What had he been thinking about before? He groaned again, trying to force his body to get up while he attempted to sort his thoughts that were hidden behind some mysterious fog in his mind. Not a muscle moved. He hated the fog days. He much preferred the days when his mind moved too fast for anyone to follow instead. Well, anyone but Geralt, that was. He had always been rather good at that and now that he was back it could be like that again, maybe. 'No!' he told himself determinately. 'I am still cross with him. I can't allow him to get under my skin that easily again.'

He started tapping out a rapid rhythm on his blanket. 'Oh good,' he thought. 'So, I can move. You know what would be great now? Getting out of bed.' He continued tapping his rhythm, the rest of his body still not moving.

Jaskier sighed heavily. What had he been thinking about? Cirilla, right. Truth be told he was glad, that she was here now. And that she was with Geralt. He didn't want any harm to come to her and there were... approximately two people and a dead horse on the entire continent he would trust her life with.

'Pity that Roach died before making it here,' he caught himself thinking. 'I think she would have liked it. Maybe I should get him a replacement? And the princess, too, they can't very well ride double all the time and I won't allow Geralt to make the poor girl walk the whole way. I know what that's like, I had to suffer through it long enough. I wonder if she likes flowers? She deserves a nice saddle. And nice clothes, too! Oh, maybe I can call a tailor. That would be a great opportunity to get Geralt into something resembling fashion, too. Maybe even a bit of colour? Oh, bad memories, that went totally sideways the last time we tried-'

"Fuck!" he cursed quietly. One moment he had been thinking about Roach and the next about Pavetta's betrothal - how had he even gotten there? And what had he been thinking about before that?

Right, two people and a dead horse. One of them had nearly died on Sodden Hill according to his intelligence and the other one was somewhere in Lettenhove Hall - preferably in his room next to Cirilla (of course he hadn't separated them, he was no complete monster). He should probably go talk to her soon. Welcome her, apologise for his harsh treatment of the day before, that sort of thing.

Ah, yes, like that he could put the cranky villagers off for a while. Slowly, he sat up. 'Finally.'

He still needed a plan. Jaskier groaned and dropped back down.

"Why did I do this?" he whined into the empty room. "It's always easier when I'm already sitting."

Well, now he wasn't sitting anymore. Great. And the idea of meeting the princess was not enticing enough to move him again. Great.

"I really need to get better at this..." He just laid there for a while, staring at the canopy above, following the same colourful threads with his eyes he had stared at a thousand times, bored out of his mind. Yet, every time he tried to pull a thought close it either vanished or actively tried to get away, to be replaced with the insufferable chorus of The Fishmonger's Daughter. 'Why on earth did I write such a despicable song?' he asked himself not for the first time.

His salvation came in form of a firm knock. "My lord?" the voice of Jakub, his manservant sounded muffled through the wood. "Are you up yet?"

"Almost!" Suddenly, it was very easy to jump out of bed and scurry over to the clothes laid out for him. "You, Jakub" he exclaimed excitedly when he entered with a tray of food, "are god-sent. You see, I just couldn't bring myself to get up and go about my day and the you appeared and now it is all very easy- Oh, are those raspberry tarts? I love those-"

"They are, my lord," he answered calmly and moved to lace up Jaskier's shirt, while the latter shoved little raspberry cakes into his mouth.

He could see his exasperation plain on his face when that didn't keep him from talking: "I couldn't even think right, I was thinking about Roach and the witcher and do you think the girl would like an embroidered saddle? I was thinking buttercups, though, no, that would be better for my next one. Can saddles be embroidered posthumously? No, that's not the right word, I seem to have forgotten it- Jakub, you are very silent today, is everything alright?"

"Quite, my lord. You are very talkative today. I wouldn't want to interrupt you."

"Right," his mind seemed to slow for just a moment. "I am sorry about that. It seems I am having one of those days."

The servant shook out the doublet and held it for him to slip into the sleeves. "Shall I inform the staff, my lord?"

"I think that would be reasonable. How are my dear sisters?"

"Very vocal about their displeasure to share a roof with a witcher, my lord." He buttoned up the last of Jaskier's doublet.

Jaskier frowned and popped the last two buttons open again. "Only Janina, I hope?"

"Indeed, my lord. She has also pronounced her plans to leave for Goldfurt immediately. They are already packing. Lady Józefa, on the other hand, appears quite smitten with... both of your guests."

He wrinkled his nose and ate the last of the raspberry tarts. "As I have feared. Stop the packing at once, no one is to leave Lettenhove unless I tell them to. Until further notice. Make time in my schedule for both of them." He halted and sat down to let Jakub put on his boots. "Actually, clear my whole schedule for the day." He sucked the last of the sour berry juice from his fingers. "But be sure to put the names of my sisters and my two guests on it. And think of solutions."

"Think of solutions, my lord?"

He shot him a confused look. "Did I say something else?"

"Not at all, my lord," Jaskier admired him for keeping a straight face. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Good." He looked around. It was obviously light in his rooms, so it couldn't be that early anymore. He only hoped he hadn't wasted half of his day. Again. "What time is it?"

"The sun has risen an hour ago and your witcher with it. He is stalking the halls in the guest wing and frightening the servants."

Jaskier frowned. "Send someone to tell him to stop. I won't have that."

"If I may be so frank, my lord?"

He waved his hand as a sign for him to continue.

"I fear you may be pressed to find some kind of occupation for him lest you want this to be a frequent occurrence. As long as he is meant to be in your service, I mean."

"I know. I am already thinking about it." He flashed him a bright smile. "That is exactly why you will put 'think of solutions' on the schedule. If he gets too restless before I find one, send him to the stables. He's good with horses."

"Shall I write down the issues you need to find them for, too?"

He smiled even brighter. "See? That is why you are in my service. You are very clever."

For a moment he thought, Jakub smiled, too. "Thank you, my lord." He surely had to be mistaken.

"Just do not put the names of my guests on it, if you please. Such a document would be very dangerous indeed."

He blinked. "I do not know the names of the witcher and the girl yet, my lord."

"Even better." He leaned back and folded his hands across his stomach. "Now go. I believe you've got a witcher to chastise."

Jakub looked very uneasy all of a sudden. "And the girl, my lord?"

Jaskier stood and straightened his doublet. "And the girl, indeed, Jakub. And the girl, indeed."

He made his way towards the door and was only stopped when Jakub said: "Your sword, my lord."

"Right!" He whirled around and took the offered weapon, tightening the belt. "I'm bad with new things, I'm sorry..."

"Always the same routine, Lord Julian," he said quietly and Jaskier half suspected that he wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Right," he answered cheerfully, "and I always forget." He was already out the door when he peeked his head back inside. "Don't forget the schedule," he reminded his manservant with a quick smile. "And the pacing witcher."

For the first time in a long while there was an odd little spring in his step when Jaskier walked. He even smiled at some of the servants, startling poor Marta that she dropped the pitcher of water she was carrying. When he apologised and bent to pick up the shards, she dropped the mop, too.

It was just his luck that that was the moment Józefa rushed along. "My darling sister," he jumped into her way, "how are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, Julek," she kissed him on the cheek lightly. "It seems you are, too."

"It seems, doesn't it?" He smiled at her. "Where are you going?"

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Jaskier gasped and clutched at his chest in mock hurt. "Why, can't a man not crave a simple conversation with his sister to wish her a good morning?"

"A different man, most certainly. You are not that kind of man. So?"

He smirked and batted his eyelashes at her. "Will you do me a favour?"

"Depends," she crossed her arms. "What's in it for me?"

"You get to spend more time with our lovely young guest, uh-"

"Fiona?" she supplied.

"Fiona! That's good! Show her around the castle, will you? The stables, the gardens, the library. Find out what she likes."

"I will. Will you tell me who she is in turn?"

Jaskier laughed. "Most certainly. A hundred different stories. Will you spread them for me?"

"I have already written Nadia and Irena about it; the word will be out in no time. You know they cannot keep their mouths shut. Will any of these stories be true?"

"Perhaps. Not a word about who she arrived with, I trust?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about? She arrived alone. The witcher isn't due to arrive until tomorrow."

"I do love you, Józia." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek, too. "Why have you never come to Oxenfurt? I am sure Dijkstra would be delighted to have you in his faculty."

"I would have. Alas, I think one runaway is enough for the family." She winked. "Off you go, brother, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do."

He groaned loudly. "Don't remind me..." Still he walked away, quickly bending out of the way of a servant. "See you at dinner," he called after her, "and keep Janina out of my hair for a few hours, will you?"

She laughed loudly. "I'll do my worst. Good day, my lord." And with that she had twirled around a corner and vanished.

Jaskier took his time to check upon the kitchens and the stables and his new horse, Pegasus. He was still small, hardly large enough to be ridden yet, but in a year or two he would make a very fine steed, he hoped. Not that he knew anything about horses but he trusted that he would be in good hands with his stablemaster Wiktor. He also informed the man that he could expect a very grumpy witcher to join him in the course of the day who he was advised to treat kindly.

"Why?" Wiktor asked distrustful. "Is he dangerous?"

Jaskier smiled brightly at that. "Not in the slightest. It is I who do not take kindly to insults made about my guests."

The old equerry shrugged. "As long as he's kind to the horses he won't find any trouble here."

"Good." He turned to leave. "Should there be trouble regardless, call for me if you will."

He grunted in reply. 'The two of them will get along very well,' he thought. He passed Cirilla and Józefa on his way inside and smiled and waved at them. When his sister signalled for him that Janina was nearby, he slipped away quickly.

When he shouldered the door to his study open, laden with an array of heavy tomes there was his schedule on his desk already. "Good man, Jakub," he muttered and began sorting through the books and sheets of parchments. Once satisfied he plopped down on his seat.

"Now, father," he murmured and pulled open the drawer of the desk, closely examining the writing utensils, "let's see what kind of semi-legal activities you were prepared for."

A fully developed plan had settled in his mind during the course of the morning. All that was needed now, was a tiny bit of forgery and they would be on their merry way. It should be done in no more than four hours - with some kind of allowance, he was a bit rusty after all.

He was just correcting the last few strokes on the fake latter he had written, when there were furious steps in the corridor. "Julian Alfred Pankratz!" The door flew open with a bang and nearly knocked an unspeakably ugly vase off its pedestal.

"Not the vase," Jaskier said emotionless, "Father loved it oh so much."

Janina ignored him completely as she stormed inside with swirling skirts. "What," she demanded and slammed her hands on his desk with just enough time for him to save his handiwork, "were you thinking?"

"Good day to you, too, dear sister," he said and blew the ink dry. "What has gotten into you?"

"You can't just order me to stay!"

He tapped the tip of his quill against his lip as if he were contemplating the issue. "In fact, I can." He pointed her quill at her. "I already have."

"I will not tolerate this! I refuse to live under the same roof as a mutant-"

He rolled his eyes as he tried to secure as many breakable objects on his desk as possible. "Here we go..."

"- who steals and eats children!" She grabbed a bar of seal wax and chucked it across the room. "I knew you were eccentric; I knew you travelled with one of them for two decades though I cannot fathom why, but bringing on here? Forcing me to share my home with him? A home you haven't even deigned to visit in the last quarter century? You are going too far, Julian!"

"Are you finished?"

"Finished?" she shouted. "I haven't even started yet!" Jaskier sighed and leaned his chin on his palm. That could take a while. He suffered through her tirade dispassionately, trying to flesh out the last details of his plan while she raged on and on and on. He had long learned to stop listening to her rants. Until- "And the child!"

He sighed. "What about her?"

"Who is she even-"

"None of your business."

"-one of your bastards? Did you bed a monster to need a witcher to bring her here?"

He stood abruptly. "Janina, you go too far."

"No, Julian, you went too far! Twenty years ago, when you just vanished! And then you just show up again and get the title."

"I didn't want it!" he shouted back. "I still don't want it! It was what father wanted, not me. Do not confuse your anger at him with your anger at me!"

"You still took it!"

"Take it back once I am a dead, for all I care. But as long as I am breathing, I am the Lord of Lettenhove, whether we like it or not. When I tell you, you do not leave, you do not leave. Get it together, Janina. I will not have you insult my guests any longer."

She narrowed her eyes to slits and leaned in close. "I hate you," she hissed in his ear. Then, she whirled around and stalked from the room.

"Well, you're not my favourite sister at the moment either!" he called after her, though his voice was drowned out by the bang the door shut with.

With a sigh he sat back down and pulled his letters out again. It was not his best work, he had to admit, though anything he forged these days could hardly compare to what he had done during his time in Oxenfurt. He had memorised the handwriting of all of his classmates perfectly and of quite a few professors and nobles, too. That had been one of the reasons why Dijkstra had recruited him in the first place. Well, that and that there were not many people who were as reliable as him when it came to spreading as well as listening to rumours.

He was just dispassionately drawing a scrawly sketch by young 'Fiona' - always a nice touch - when the door flew open again. "You frighten Ciri with your shouting," Geralt growled.

Jaskier was very glad that an angry witcher had long lost its effect on him. "You frighten my people with your pacing," he shot back.

Geralt snarled. "I have stopped."

"Good," he answered and turned back to his sketch, purposefully smudging the lines. No child ever drew without smudging the lines. When the witcher was still in the door a few moments later he looked up again. "I have stopped shouting, too."

"Just... don't do it again!"

"I'm sorry," he said slowly and put his pencil down. "What did you just say?"

That gave him the opportunity to see something truly marvellous happen: for a moment he saw a witcher - oh no, not just any witcher, but Geralt of Rivia - pale. "Nothing."

"Interesting sounds you make when you say nothing."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" Geralt's eyes darted around like a doe's before being shot. "Fuck, Jaskier, I can't read you anymore."

He allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. 'Good.' "I want another tone, witcher. You're forgetting who you're talking to. And I want you to never utter that name within these walls again."

"Jaskier?" He sounded confused. 'Poor man.' "It's your name, what else should I call you?"

"Oh? I thought I'd told you already. You may call me "my lord", here."

Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Jaskier could see how he was fighting with himself. "Forgive me, my lord," he said finally, "I did not mean to." He didn't clarify what he hadn't meant to but for the moment that was enough for Jaskier. "Is there anything else?"

"Come sit with me, witcher," Jaskier said and pointed to the chair opposite to him. "Time to tell you why you are here."

Begrudgingly he pushed away from the door and sat down across him. If he didn't know it any better, Jaskier could have sworn he was limping. "Why am I here then, my lord?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. "First things first: The girl you didn't arrive with is one my cousins."

"Cousin," Geralt deadpanned.

He waved his hand around. "Distant relative, I have a lot of them. You see, she normally lives with her family down in Verden but has recently been orphaned. And because I have such a soft heart, I have decided to take her in. I have visited my dear cousin Daniela not three years past and have become acquainted with the girl then. We have been in contact ever since I got here. Look, not three months ago Daniela even sent me a sketch Fiona had made!"

He held up the drawing he was working on and let Geralt scowl at it. "It's hideous."

He very nearly pouted. "Don't be mean, witcher. Cousin Fiona drew this!"

He sighed. "Fine. That's a good story but what if they discover you don't actually have a cousin named Fiona?"

"What do you mean? I actually do have a cousin Daniela in Verden! Well, did, she died in the cradle but that's the least of my problems." He turned the big tome he had been working on around. "Good thing Lettenhove uses the good parchment for the family records, eh? So easy to scratch one date off, replace it by another and add a new name. It's clear as day, witcher. The girl staying at my home is Fiona Nowak and no-one can doubt it. And we are all thrilled to have her here."

Geralt stared at the family tree and the letters in disbelief. "How did you..."

"I didn't attend Oxenfurt Academy for nothing, keep it up, witcher. Anyways, where was I?"

"You wanted to tell me what I am doing here."

"Why, you're just an old friend of mine, arriving tomorrow, by the way, enjoying my company and drowning your grief about your dead child surprise you never knew in my wine cellar while I comfort you with my ballads."

"Really?"

His expression grew serious once more. "No, witcher. My wine cellar is off limits. As are my ballads."

He nodded, looking over the letters again. "That is more than I hoped for, actually," Geralt confessed. "You do not have to keep us here. My lord."

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully. "I assume you had a destination with Cousin Fiona?"

He grunted.

"Words, witcher."

"Kaedwen."

He sighed. "And I assume it is not exactly near Montecalvo? Or Mirt? Or anywhere within a reasonable distance of here?"

"No, my lord."

"I didn't think so. So, your plan was to cross one mountain range travel through probably half of Kaedwen in what? One month before your wherever-you're-going becomes inaccessible due to the snow? The leaves start falling already. Normally you were nowhere to be seen by now."

Geralt blinked stupidly as if he was realising only now just how ridiculous that sounded.

"No, witcher, I think it is better for you to stay here for the winter and start out again come spring. So, you are not only staying a week. Which is why I need a good cover story to explain how my household has gained two new members."

He didn't reply to that for a while, just sat there and ducked his head. Then, very quietly: "Thank you, my lord."

"Do not thank me yet. Thank me once we have weathered this winter without being disturbed. I am a bit concerned about... some of the loyalties in my hose."

He snorted. "I noticed. It seems not all of your family are as inclined to my kind as you are."

"You'd do best to keep your ears to yourself here, witcher." Jaskier frowned. Of course, he should have thought of that before starting a screaming match with Janina. Well, he would have to remember for the future.

"I will. Though if you ever needed someone to talk to, my lord-"

"I will certainly not call upon you." That hurt. He could see it in Geralt's eyes. 'Not as much as the mountain, I bet.'

The witcher wrinkled his nose in disgust, grossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

Jaskier did his best to turn back to the letters, he still had to age them after all, but his skin prickled under the intense stare of his former friend. "What?" he snapped after a short while.

Geralt raised an eyebrow in answer.

"There's something bothering you, I can sense it. Out with it. Now."

He sighed and leaned forward. "Where are all the people, my lord?"

"What people?" He scoffed. "I'm just a viscount, witcher. And although I might be famous for my life before returning to my rightful place, we do not entertain big courts. The biggest thing that happens here is the annual fair. Then people from my other two villages and a few in the area come here to get drunk and leave again a week later."

"You're still rich, though. I expected-"

"What?"

"- a bard, maybe?"

"Why would I be in need of a bard?"

"Some friends from Oxenfurt, then?"

"I appear to have lost them when I took to the Path for a quarter century."

"You have two other sisters-"

"Married."

"Nieces and nephews-"

"Too young."

"Cousins-!"

"Stop it!"

"You're evading my questions, bard."

"And you're overstepping your boundaries," he hissed. "I am no bard anymore. Back off, witcher!"

Something changed in Geralt's expression. A tiny part that had been soft, hardened once more. "Right..." he said quietly. "In that case, my lord, forgive me."

"Leave," Jaskier ordered icily.

"Jas- my lord-" Geralt started but he didn't even let him finish: "I don't care, I tell you to leave, you leave."

He got up with a quiet sigh. "Sure. Whatever my lord commands." The door still shut behind him with a bang.

“If all of you,” he shouted after him, “could stop abusing my poor doorframes, it would be greatly appreciated!”

The door opened again and Jakub peered inside. “Is something the matter, my lord?”

“No,” he huffed as he collected the letters. “Everything is going just peachy. Why wouldn’t it be with my witcher-hating sister – who also hates me by the way – a witcher, his- charge and everyone else in my household who dislikes me for some reason or another!”

He blinked, obviously overwhelmed with the burst of words of his lord. “My lord?”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Just forget it. Find out if the witcher's injured. Once you have an answer, come to me at once."

He bowed quickly. “Of course, my lord.”

And with that he brushed past him out of the study, armed with letters and family tree alike, looking for his sisters. The viscount had news to deliver.

[mrneighbourlove]

Trip going Termina

Skull Kid was bored. Hyrule was boring. Everyone rebuilding Hyrule was boring. He was bored.

Looking around the rubble of a town, he was acquiring trinkets and valuables he could keep for his collection. "Hmmm? What's this?" Pulling a hand out of the rubble, he frowned. This was once a woman. Even with decay setting in, he could tell by the shape. On her finger was a nice ring though. Taking it, he studied its green texture. Reminded him of Rinku. Or Zizi. His green friends. He didn't know where Rinku was at the moment, but he knew where Zizi was. Taking the ring, he skipped and hopped, and teleported back to Hyrule. Was time to leave Hyrule for a bit.

Zizi had been given one of the largest tasks to handle for the kingdom. Her job was now to create a growing plantation of crops for the people. She and many other Zemlja were helping farmers start fresh with a new plot of land. Yet, the plantation would not only feed the people but later help provide money by sending exports to other countries. For once, Zizi was happy to have a job that did not deal with fighting. The war with Vul'kar was a horrid experience and one she would care not to recall.

Skull Kid hopped onto her shoulders from above, messing up her hair. "Piggy Back time!"

"Hey!!!" Zizi lost her balance and over the two of them toppled. "... where were you earlier when I needed help sorting the seeds?"

"I found a ring on a body. They didn't need it. You want to ditch work?"

"Now, now, Skull Kid, looting the dead is very much frowned upon." Zizi chided him. "You should put it back." Then she sat on the earth, concentrating. "I'll make you a deal. Help me finish work and then we'll hang out."

"Deal! But we have to go where I want to."

"And where is that?"

"Surprise. Now, let's get to work!"

~

Once the work was complete, Zizi managed to clean her hands in the stream before Skull Kid splashed her. "... do I need an overnight bag for this? You know I can't stay away long. Zarazu will need me."

“Zarazu has others. She has the flaming party pooper and her ‘lovey wovey Covvy pie’.” Skull Kid gagged at that pet name he heard. “I’d pack a bag and grab rupees. That’s the currency for where we are going.”

"Rupees?" Zizi never had much money to spend. Though, she did have a little cash stored away for a day like this. Perhaps it was time to use it for a much-deserved day off. "... all right. Let me inform my sister and we'll be off."

“Do you have to? You’re not a baby she has to look after.” Skull Kid shifted towards her, his limbs rattling like maracas.

"I don't want to just disappear." Zizi reminded him. "Remember how I spent a couple of days with you in the woods exploring when I first came to Hyrule? Zarazu sent out a search party."

“Zarazu’s a worry wuss. But fine. Tell her we’ll be gone for a few days at most.”

"Zarazu has a right to worry. Look at what all we've been through." Zizi tipped Skull Kid's hat down in a playful manner. "I'll meet you at your tree. Let me pack my things and tell my sister."

Skull Kid suppose he couldn’t move things along faster even if he wanted to. Leaning on his tree, he took out the ring he found and examined it some more. Finally, with all the strength he could muster, he threw it far. It landed in front of a village girl and he gave no more mind to it.

Once everything was done, Zizi met Skull Kid at his tree. She had packed a couple of pairs of clothes, what little money she had, and some snacks for the road. Maybe soon, her plantation would be bringing in money for the kingdom and she would have a steady paycheck. "So, where are we going?"

Skull Kid pointed to the small oak log that had an open crawl space. “Go down there after me!” Skull Kid was quick to led by example, disappearing into the log.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Zizi approached the log and had to wiggle through it. "Skully, I'm a little bigger than you, do you think you could find a bigger log next time?"

“Don’t grow up, how’s that?” On the other side, Zizi found herself right in the heart of the Lost Woods suddenly.

"... wait, what?" Zizi looked back through the log and then around her. Skull Kid was using his magic again for teleportation maybe. Either that, or the log had magical properties that could suddenly spit one out in another dimension. "How did... you know what? I don't want to know. I'm good with not knowing." She stood and took in the beautiful view of the greenery with a sigh. "This is so lovely. Look at all the trees and the plants... oh, and the flowers are gorgeous! They glow!" What the Zemlja did not realize was she had plucked a fairy from a bush, thinking it was a flower. "What species is this?"

The fairy glew incredibly bright, enough to hide its shape as it bit Zizi hard on the finger with the force of a wasp’s stinger.

Surprised, Zizi yelped as the fairy bit her and instantly dropped the creature, yanking her hand away. The fairy bit hard enough to draw blood and the Zemlja hissed at the stinging. Putting her finger in her mouth to staunch the bleeding, she then looked at an amused Skull Kid. "What was that?! I didn't do anything!"

Skull Kid watched as the fairy flew away into the deep foliage of a tree. “That was a Forest fairy you pluck by wings Zizi~ There are different kinds of fairies all around the world. Too bad you didn’t pluck a healing fairy. Hehehe.”

"You could have warned me." Zizi shook her hand to try to make the stinging disappear. "And I didn't mean to hurt it if I did."

“I wanted you to learn yourself. Stay close. The Lost Woods are a magnificent but dangerous place to explore. Many marvellous sights and magical gateways to around the world, but treacherous monsters and curses as well.”

At the relay of potentially dangerous magic and ill-tempered creatures, Zizi almost wanted to shake Skull Kid, yet, she feared his head might pop off. "And pray tell, what made you choose this path if it's not the safest route?"

“It’s the most fun Zizi.” Skull Kid walked around various fallen logs, laughing as he kept ahead of Zizi. “If you get lost in the woods, you’ll become a Stalfos.”

"I most certainly will not!" Zizi huffed at his taunting. "I will simply let the earth swallow me and escort me back to my sisters. If you call this fun, I would hate to see what you call relaxing."

“Well, do you know where to go?”

"The earth is connected, Skully." Zizi walked across a long, making sure to balance, holding her arms out. "That's why I walk barefoot all the time. I can feel it talking to me. I can use the roots in that tree to tell you a family of rabbits burrow underneath it. The leaves in the canopy tell me little birds are chirping in a nest. It talks, you know."

“Yeah?” Skull Kid knocked on an old oak. “You know which way is north?”

"Easy." Zizi then stopped and pointed, oddly enough, in the correct direction. "That way."

“Tricky woods. Tricky trees.”

"Not really." Zizi admitted to Skully. "They're talking to me. It's like... one giant voice almost. Telling me I'm..." She paused for a moment to repeat the words. "The voice says that I am lucky that I'm special or else, it would gladly turn me in all directions." She shrugged. "Whatever that means."

“Hmmm interesting.” Immediately, his attention was drawn to a giant pit inside a tree. “Jump down.”

Zizi glanced at the deep pit and arched an eyebrow at Skully. "Another pathway? ... fine." Zizi carefully manipulated a vine to ease herself into the bottom of the pit. "Come on, then."

“Not like that. Like this!” Skull Kid jumped feet first into the pit, grabbing Zizi with him. As they fell into the deep darkness, he let out a gleeful cheer.

Zizi, having no idea what was going on, shrieked at first, but then as the tunnel proved to be like a slide, found herself laughing.

They slid and slided, and as Skull Kid turned them certain directions. Finally, a blinding light hit them and they tumbled right out a waterfall! “WOOOOO!!!”

Zizi barely had time to react. She did not want to get her clothes wet in her backpack. It would take a long while to dry. That, and she had no idea what was in the water. Not that she thought it was dirty, but if there was anything that could take a bigger bite out of her than that fairy, the Zemlja had a right to be cautious. A few vines caught her before she hit the water, and Zizi watched Skully give a 'boo' in her general direction.

“Hehehe. Like the swamp?”

"I don't mind the swamp, I just don't want to get wet." Zizi pointed to her backpack and then her hair. "Not that I mind swimming, but we don't want to delay our trip by my clothes having to dry, do we? Or my hair for that matter, it takes forever." She looked around the swamp, taking in the trees and the water. There were several lilipads with frogs croaking and fishes swimming along the bottom, looking for food. "You still haven't told me where we are going."

“We’re here!” Skull Kid gestured to the swamp.

"...? This swamp is our final destination?" Zizi peered around. "Well, if you were taking me to a landmark, why did you tell me to bring rupees?"

Skull Kid looked to an abandoned tower, and started making his way to the top, all the while silently urging Zizi to join him.

Following Skully, Zizi could have sworn she heard... whisperings. Was it the swamp? Was she imagining things? She could usually hear the forest speaking to her through plants, but this was not numerous voices, it was one. Snapped out of her thoughts by Skully tugging on her hand, the Zemlja wondered what his object was this time.

In the far distance was the light of a town. “Look over there Zizi. That’s Clock Town. We’re in Termina!”

"Termina?" Zizi asked him. "Like where you and Link met all those years ago? I'm surprised it's still here!" She was eager to take in the sights. "I thought it only existed in stories."

“Oh. It’s very, very real. The city has risen, fallen, and come back more vibrant then ever!” Just as the excitement filled Zizi, Skull Kid turned her head to a green gas coming out of the mountains to her left. “But we aren’t here for that.”

"Then what are we here for?" Zizi had a slight pout. "Aren't you going to take me to see the city?" When he turned her attention to the gas, she then inquired, "... if you brought me all the way out here to show me how you make a stink bomb..."

“No! ...Though...” Skull Kid shook his head. “Come on! We got a swamp to traverse. Mind the bugs Zizi~”

Zizi could deal with bugs. Spiders, on the other hand, she had no love for, due to the incident with Ganondorf battling that giant one from the temple. When she saw a rather large arachnid, the Zemlja squealed and almost jumped on top of Skully. "I don't do spiders!"

“How about Dragonflies?” From above came a massive man-sized Dragonfly. With an electric tail, it stabbed the arachnid, eating it alive as it buried its legs and fangs into it.

"... let's just get away from the bugs and I think I'll feel a little better." Zizi said with a pale face at the size of the insect.

“Hmmm. You ever go Snapper riding before?”

"What's a Snapper?"

Snap-ap. Down near the shore line was a large looking snapping turtle, digging into some fish it had caught. “That is.”

"As long as I'm not on the menu, that looks fun!"

“Ok. Sneak up on it, jump on its shell, and hold on.”

"How about you go first and show me how it's done?"

“Awww. That’d spoil the surprise.” Skull Kid had an evil, mischievous hint in his voice he couldn’t hide. “Life’s about taking risks.”

"Oh? It is? All about risks and fun?" Zizi played dumb, thinking for a moment. "Nah, you first." And with that, she gave him a shove.

Skull Kid jumped with a backwards cartwheel onto the Snapper. It let out a yelp, pulled its head and limbs back into its shell, then started spinning like a top towards Zizi with a spiky shell. Skull Kid laughed as he had perfect balance going forward and able to keep the contents of his stomach inside. “Hehehehehe! Weeeee, this is fun!”

"Whoa!" Zizi climbed higher in the tree and watched the Snapper spin around like one of those rides at a traveling circus. It made her dizzy just to watch the spinning. It was then she noticed the Snapper was headed directly for a rock. "Skully! Look out!!!"

Skull Kid jumped off one Snapper and onto another to continue the thrill. The first poor turtle broke the rock and wouldn’t come out of its shell. “Come on! Try it!”

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this later." Zizi carefully jumped onto a Snapper and held on for dear life.

SNAP-AP! The Snapper spun around at alarming speeds, dragging her down the swamps river bed. It was rather furious it and its companions were being used for sport.

Feeling that the creature was growing agitated, Zizi apologized to the turtle before jumping onto a tree, climbing up into the branches.

It seemed that in the excitement, Zizi and Skull Kid had becoming heavily separated.

"This isn't good." Zizi looked around for her friend but he was nowhere to be seen. She decided the best thing to do was to head back in the direction of the abandoned tower. It was a key point he had shown her and would likely come back to the place. As she was walking, Zizi came across the oddest-looking creature she had ever seen. It was... a plant? An animal? "Um... excuse me!" She waved at the being called a Deku, trying her best to be polite. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm a bit lost. Could you help me?"

“Ah!!!” The Young Deku panicked, running over to a flower and hiding under ground. He sounded like a kid.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" Zizi fretted, feeling horribly guilty about frightening the poor thing. She had to figure out a way to appear non-threatening. Using her magic, she had a flower bloom from her palm. The Zemlja offered it to the Deku. "Here. You can have it if you like it."

The Deku peeked out from its flower peddle, very close to shooting a seed at Zizi until it saw the flower. Suddenly, he looked amazed. “You’re the one! You’re the one!”

"I'm the what?" Zizi looked puzzle, but dismissed the thought. "I apologize for scaring you. Are you all right?"

The Deku plopped out of the flower, his leafy mane jiggling about. “Oh! Can you come see the King with me?”

"The King?" Zizi recalled Skully telling her stories about the King of the Dekus trying to kill a certain monkey. She certainly hoped this Deku was not mistaking her for an unruly primate. Yet, she did not want to seem rude. This place was full of plants. She could fight if necessary. Maybe the King could point her in the direction of her mischievous friend or at least a place to find food. She was starting to get hungry. "Very well. You'll have to show me the way. This is my first time here."

“Follow me pretty lady!”

The Deku waddled through the jungle with Zizi until they reached a large wooden palace. It was a magnificent palace from top to bottom. Cleaning some windows were little Koroks flying on leaves. Approaching some Deku guards, they pointed spears at the two approaching. “Halt. Only the green may enter.”

“She’s green! Show them your special power!”

Skully's stories were elaborate but nothing could compare to the actual sight of the wooden palace. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. The water around it was as clear as the sky and the greenery was so healthy and vibrant. This was a paradise locked away from the world of humans. As the guards held up their spears, Zizi was a little surprised when the tiny Deku referred to her as 'green'. Maybe it meant earth magic? Bending down so the Deku guards could observe, Zizi once again, sprouted a lovely lily from her palm.

The Deku once again freaked out over this revelation. "It's her! It's her!"

"I told you it was her."

"Fool! Let her in to see the King at once!!!" The Deku guards retreated into their flower bed, giving room for Zizi to enter.

Zizi really had no clue what was going on at this point. She was wondering if these Deku were mistaking her for another guest that was supposed to arrive. Either way, as the small Deku led her into the throne room, she noted the fire. That was odd, in her opinion, to have fire around species of sentient plants. It seemed hazardous. Gently, she tapped the tiny Deku's shoulder. "Would you mind telling me why your friends reacted so back there?" Zizi whispered. "I'm a little confused."

The Deku took her hand, leading her to a massive Deku sitting on a throne made of a beautiful blooming flower. "Halt! Why is there a fleshy amidst our Green Covenant?"

"... hi." Zizi waved at the large Deku and politely introduced herself. "I am Zizi Slatki, a Lorleidian. I was a little lost in the woods out there and your friend here was kind enough to help me."

"Why were you past the guards, Lore-Lu-Di-An?"

The young deku once again urged Zizi to show off her magic.

"Because they saw me grow a flower and let me?" Zizi presented the king with a different bloom this time, growing a long strand of ivy vines from her hand. Once finished, she offered the plant to the king. "I can do more than just flowers, you know, but they seemed very excited for some reason."

Every Deku working around the room stopped what they were doing. A loud ring was heard as a pan was dropped to the floor.

Zizi noticed the deafening silence and glanced around the throne room. She then whispered to the smaller Deku, "Did I do something to offend?"

"You!!!!" The Deku King pointed his scepter at Zizi. "You are the one!!!"

Zizi jolted slightly at the scepter suddenly thrusted in her face. "I'm the what?!"

"You are the Sage of the Forest reborn! Guards! Seize her!" A dramatic pause was taken for effect. "-A fantastic feast!"

Zizi stood there, stunned beyond belief. A sage? Her?! She was only a teenager, how could she be a wise old sage?! Yet, the Zemlja was almost ready to summon her man-eating plant at the notion of her to be seized. But breathed easy when the king mentioned a feast.

The Deku scrambled about, quickly picking Zizi up in a chair and carrying her about the palace plaza.

"WHOA!" Zizi held tightly to the sides of the chair, having no clue what was happening. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?!"

Skull Kid had looked up and down for Zizi. As high as the old temple, to the tourist shop near the river trail. Finally exploring the castle, he looked down through a window to see Zizi getting flower crowns put on her head and carried about. When she was set down for a second, he whispered angrily to her through the bars. “Hey! What’s the big idea having all the fun to yourself?”

Zizi jumped when she heard Skull Kid's voice, but was relieved. "Oh, thank the spirits! You're here!" Zizi exclaimed. "I tried being nice to this one little Deku I scared by giving him a flower and then the whole castle went crazy and put me in this chair!!!"

“Oh yeah? Where’s my chair?” Skull Kid huffed.

"Do one of your magic tricks and maybe they'll get you a chair?" Zizi scowled at him. "I didn't ask for this, they just keep telling me I'm 'the one' and I don't know what that means!"

“Huh. Well, maybe I’ll just watch then.” The Deku grabbed Zizi, plopping psychedelic herbs into her mouth and marking her with tribal paint. “The one! The one! The one!”

Zizi immediately coughed and spat out the herbs. The last thing she wanted was a trip to the plane of her mind like she was in a sweat hut. The tribal paint, she did not mind, but she finally had lost her patience. "Everyone! Everyone please!" Zizi's shouting at least obtained their attention. "I'm... very grateful for all the attention, but will one of your please explain why I am this 'one' you keep speaking of? What exactly am I? I'm just a visitor from Lorleidi."

“You are a sage of the Forest. Like Saria, Monomoka, Mufflebufflesnufflepuffle, Gfreeda, and Elron before you! You posses magic of the sages, able to create life at will!” The King pointed his sceptre to a caldron of water they brought out. “We shall see if we cannot free you of your fleshy prison first.”

"...?!?!?! WHAT?!" Zizi was now rather... angry. The little Deku she had been nice to brought her here for this?! This would not stand! Stomping her foot, the ground moved, knocking over the caldron of water. "I am just fine the way I am! You aren't going to try to scald me with that, because if you do, you'll regret the day that you busted out of whatever seed you came from!" She pointed her finger at the King. "I am a human and if you don't like that, than too bad! If I am this... this Forest person, this sage, that you claim I am, then why the hell are you trying to hurt me?!"

“Because no Sage can be a fleshy in MY kingdom! This is a kingdom of the green! Any who don’t agree can have their heads lopped off! This will done to help you achieve enlightenment! I mean, you are the sage, aren’t you?”

Skull Kid snickered. This was turning out more fun then he assumed.

"... I am enlightened to the fact that maybe I should lop your head off if you try to hurt me or any of your innocent subjects." Zizi was not usually one that was quick to anger, but right now, she was furious. "Earth Sage or not, I'm not going to let you hurt me or anyone else."

“UGH! Earth?! That’s disgusting! On second look, you are rather a gross little thing.” He poked her in the ribs with his sceptre. “Your skin is too close to charcoal, you stink with a musk of a mammal, and you have a birds nest for hair! Speaking of hair, it’s the wrong colour for a sage. Won’t do. Won’t do at all.”

Skull Kid looked around for something to help Zizi out and cause a scene. Looking around, he saw a patch of fruits being grown. That could do the trick.

"Zemlja is the spirit of the earth and has graciously bestowed upon me these abilities to do good in his name." Zizi then caught the Deku King with her vines and roughly jostled him onto his throne, making it to where he could not move. From the ground emerged Ve'nusa with a mighty, shrill screech that would make any ears rings. "I don't care if you think I'm ugly, from where I'm standing, I'm not the one with something to lose. Now, you're going to apologize, you're going to let your people enjoy the feast, and I'm going to leave."

The Deku guards tilted their heads at the king.

“Well you fools?”

The Deku nodded to each other, then fired a torrent of saliva bombs at Zizi and Ve’Nusa. The saliva that bombed Zizi was thick and sticky, every ball pressing her into the ground with a suppressive cold webbing of snot. For Ve’nusa, it was acidic, burning the vines off the King and harming the poor creature with intense chemicals.

Ve'nusa shrieked loudly from the acidic contents, but that did not stop the sentient plant. The platforms were forfeit when the large vines thrashed back and forth, knocking out the supports. Zizi, on the other hand, was furious. She swallowed herself into the ground, the mud absorbing the sticky mixture. She then used her power to pull the Deku's into the ground.

The remaining kept spitting at Zizi and her plant. Even the king stared to dance. “Yes! Take her down my loyal soldiers! Show this sack flesh the power of- SPLAT!!!”

A very large pumpkin fell on the Kings head, smashing it apart in a gooey green mess. Skull Kid didn’t expect the pumpkin to just crush his skull like that. There was supposed to be a plop, not a splat. “Whoops.”

Zizi heard the commotion suddenly stop and unearthed herself. Skull Kid... had gotten them into a very fine mess if the King was dead. She did not want anyone to get hurt, but the Zemlja had to remind herself that the Deku started this skirmish. Yet, she would gladly be the one to finish it. Covered in mud from head to toe, the newly arisen Earth Sage glared at the Deku.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn you all into fertilizer." Zizi snapped at the crowd and then the to Deku who brought her here with a pointed finger. "I was trying to be nice to you and you all wanted me boiled to death! If I really am this sage you speak of, then you all should be ashamed of yourselves. Don't come crying to me if you ever find yourselves at the mercy of a wild fire!" She then looked at her companion. "Skully. We're leaving. Now."

“Oh come on Zizi! We just overthrew a monarchy. That’s pretty cool stuff.”

"I don't care if we conquered the world, I'm going." Zizi tromped out of the palace, furious.

“What? Zizi!” Skull Kid tore a piece of pumpkin and followed her as the Deku cowered before them. “What’s not to like?”

"That." Zizi gestured to the shaking Deku. "I don't like that. I don't want to be seen as a bad person. I'm going to leave before I do something I really regret."

“Come on! We beat a bad guy! Just like your sister did! Doesn’t that make you happy?”

"Was he really bad or just racist against 'fleshies'?" Zizi asked Skully, wiping some mud from her face. "And while I do aspire to be a good leader to others like my sister, I don't always agree with some of her ways."

“What’s the difference between some mad king and a monster like Vul’kar. Both baddies. Now you have a fun glory story to tell your sisters.” Skull Kid felt very confident and laid back about the situation.

"The difference is, if it's true what they're saying, then I don't want them to be afraid of the new Earth Sage." Zizi stopped at the edge of the wooden bridge and sighed heavily. "How do we get away from here?"

“We go when I want us to go. Come on, I set this whole thing up to make you a hero. Maybe at least a thank you before we go?”

"... you set this up?!" Zizi whirled around to face Skull Kid. "On purpose?!"

“Yeah. Did some sight seeing around the world to find some conflict you could solve. All my friends are big shot heroes, so I wanted to turn you into one.” Skull Kid innocently waved his hand at her. “Took me forever to find something that wouldn’t put you in any real danger. There was some big shot monsters, a Gerudo pirate crew, and even a huge rampaging Spider. So when I found a relatively mad king with a submissive society to liberate I knew that’d be perfect for you. Aren’t I great? How about we go to Clock City to get a celebratory drink?”

"I can't believe you!!!" Zizi nearly shouted. "I'm no hero! I don't want to be a hero!" She gestured back toward the palace. "The Deku are scared of me now! I never wanted that! I never wanted to fight some biased king who hates humans! I don't like to fight, Skully! I was terrified when I had to fight with my sisters against Vul'kar!"

“Well, didn’t that help with that fear?”

"NO!" Zizi yelled so loudly his ears rang. She had never been this mad at Skull Kid before. "You've never had to fight in a real battle before so don't assume that you know what might help me overcome any 'silly' fear you deem needs fixing!" Huffing under her breath, Zizi started to walk on the giant lily pads which lined up for her. "Go off on your own crusade."

“Never fought? Zizi. I have history to account for that.” He skipped along the lily pads with her. “Come on. You can’t be mad at me. Being mad is being like a frog who can’t hop. Why bother?”

"I am mad at you. You assumed something about me and made an ass of yourself." Zizi sank a lily pad on purpose, causing Skull Kid to narrowly miss the water. "Leave me alone."

“Zizi. I can’t leave you out here alone. You’ll get hurt.”

"A little too late for that, Skully. You hurt my feelings." Zizi was going to retrace her steps and go back home to Hyrule. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Go away."

Skull Kid pouted, jumping onto her lily pad so they’d both sink. “Well, now you’re stinky. Now what.”

Zizi said nothing and simply dunked Skull Kid in the water before having the giant lily pad rise underneath her feet to set her in a tree.

“Hey! That’s cheating!!!”

Zizi continued to maneuver through the branches, listening to the earth to tell her which way to go. All she had to do was find that log, go through it, take a bath in the river, and go home.

“Zizi! You’re a party pooper!” Skull Kid shouted as he ran through the swamp water. “I just wanted to give you fun adventure. I-!!!”

There was a plop in the water, and Skull Kid went missing.

Zizi was in no mood for games. A vine fished Skull Kid out of the swamp water and plopped him on the safety of a lily pad. She did not put him in the trees with her. Then she continued about her way.

When she got a good look at him, he was missing his head.

"... great." Zizi growled under her breath. What stupid game was he trying to play with her now. "Just great. You drag me into this sorry mess you created, and now, I got to play babysitter." The algae growing on the bottom of the swamp called to her. His head was rolling around in the current. With perfect timing, a vine snatched Skull Kid's head.

“Zizi!!! Look out!!!” From behind her, a giant masked titan just little taller than Ganondorf swung a machete the size of a small tree at her.

Zizi was barely able to react in time. She jumped out of the tree and into the water below.

The masked Jungle warrior was a step right behind her. With a sword and shield of equal size, the jungle warrior was screaming a war cry as it cut down a tree next to Zizi.

"What is that thing?!" Zizi used all the availible vines to wrap around the giant's legs to prevent it from coming closer. She caught the falling tree with some floating algae in the water. The vines on Skull Kid launched him into the trees and Zizi quickly put his head back between his shoulders. "Run!"

“Jungle... Warrior...” Skull Kid could barely run. With another slice, Odolwa cut Skull Kid in half by the waist. “God-“, was all Skull Kid could muster before he fell into the water again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Zizi was nearly shrill. She was beginning to lose her temper. This time, she did not just try to trap the giant, she actually slapped it with a vine full of thorns. Over. And over. And over. "You stay down, you big bully! I may not like all that Skull Kid does, but he's my friend, and you're not," SMACK! "Going to," BAM, BAM! "Be mean to him!" WHACK!!!

It let out a cry to the jungle for a call of help. Awful arachnids ran out of the jungles under layers to snap at Zizi. Skull Kid’s head was bubbling the water.

"I SAID ENOUGH!!!" A powerful green blast emitted from Zizi, knocking away all the spiders, the giant off balance, and echoing throughout the swamp, causing birds to fly away and creatures to still in their steps. Thin, lime colored lines traced at the corners of her eyes and magic glowed in the palms of her hands.

A kind soft voice spoke to Zizi, comforting as a mother. “Zizi Slatki. You have potential for great kindness and using the Earth itself for hope and the protection of others... this is your trial. Save your friend young one.”

The Masked Warrior stood up, and opening its stomach up, a blast of flesh-eating moths flew out to swarm Zizi.

The young woman wasn’t going to humour this monster anymore. It was humanoid, made of flesh, and like the insects it controlled, would be squashed like one. With one fluid motion, Zizi's magical ability with the earth lopped the giant's head off and crushed the moths. The plates of earth made a gooey mess of the masked monster.

Odolwa body starting to burn apart, swinging wildly around Zizi. Skull Kid lifted a hand and shot a rock at Zizi’s chest to send her back. Had he not, she’d have been split down the middle.

Once again, Zizi was in the swamp water with a loud splash, knocking her out of her magic induced haze.

Skull Kid’s own magic slowly healed his torso back with his legs. He hated getting hurt. Was always a pain to put himself back together. “Zizi.... you ok?”

Coughing, Zizi crawled out of the swamp water with a dark scowl on her face. Flopping on her back on a giant lily pad, she was most displeased. And tired. That sudden blast of magic due to losing grip on her temper really drained her.

"I want... to go home." Zizi said in-between breaths. "This has been... a disaster."

“Yeah... me too. Sorry for dragging you out here.”

"I'm still mad at you." Zizi managed to shakily get to her feet, exhausted.

“I know. I got that effect on friends sometimes.... you want to get something to eat?”

"I just want a bath and some sleep. In my own bed." Zizi told Skully as she pulled a piece of algae from her hair.

Skull Kid looked around, kicking the water out of his foot. “Well, we can’t go back to Hyrule the way we came. I know another area that holds a location the lost woods. And...” He hoped she appreciate this. “I know a place for some food and a way to clean ourselves.”

"..." Zizi looked slightly skeptical. Skull Kid led her out here under false pretenses. She did not appreciate him tricking her. So, she gave him a fair warning. "If this is another trick... I'm ignoring you for a whole month."

“Well, I didn’t plan for a masked monster to cut me apart for you to play hero. So no more tricks.”

"Good." Zizi sighed heavily, "Lead the way so I can get this muck off of me."

It was a good trek out of the jungle swamp and into a forest trial. A few Wolfos were ready to attack some potentially easy prey until Skull Kid made himself feel like a void to be around, scaring the pack off. Opening up into a massive open area, he took Zizi and himself west down a bath until they reached a small water hole of clean water. Skull Kid jumped in, quickly cleaning himself off. “Where did that power of yours come from? Didn’t hear any stories about that from your family in the latest war.”

As Skull Kid sank into the water, Zizi almost was tempted to pray thanks to Zemlja for the warm water. She jumped in, clothes and all, and made sure to scrub her head. One by one, the clothes came off and she hung the fabric over a branch to dry. It was heaven, being in this spring. "It's hard to summon plants on a dead island." Zizi murmured as she sank to her bottom lip in the water. "I did what I could, moving earth and rocks to fight. Mostly, I was just terrified."

“Yeah, but what you did to that monster earlier was something else.”

"... do you think what the Deku said was true then?" Zizi knew Skull Kid had met sages before.

“Well, it is possible.” Skull Kid mused, a hand under his chin. “Known a number of them over the generations. Have you felt any sense of awakening?”

"What is a sense of awakening supposed to feel like?"

“Been told it’s a large burst of power. Or a holy connection made with the goddess. Only good willed people corresponding to a certain element with a plan in mind by the goddess are selected.”

Zizi thought back to the war against Vul'kar. She did not recall having a large burst of power then. It just naturally came to her, moving dirt and manipulating plants. The largest blast of power the Zemlja had in a while was just now, battling that awful giant. As far as a holy connection, Zizi could heard Zemlja himself. Maybe... that was it? "I'm not entirely sure, Skully. I don't suppose there's a way to make sure?"

“You try praying to any of Hyrule’s Goddess statues?”

"No, I don't pray to those goddesses." Zizi admitted to Skully. "I pray to Zemlja. He is the one who I hear whisper in my ear sometimes."

“Hmmm, well maybe the Goddess of Hyrule will pass on a message to Zemmy? Who knows how gods work?”

"I don't suppose there's a mark or a... I don't know, some kind of sign you're supposed to get?"

“Defiantly a sign. And a cool medallion!” Skull Kid jumped out of the water, tilting his head at Zizi. “Your body hasn’t changed in any way so no telling either.”

"I hope my body hasn't changed in any way, shape, or form, and quit staring." Zizi splashed some water at him. "I don't care about a cool medal or such."

“It’s not like I care about that sort of thing. It’s just a bunch of fat to me.”

"... you know calling a girl 'fat' is rude, right?"

“Just a bunch of balloons anyways. You done cleaning? I want some food before we leave.”

"I need to change and you're still looking."

Skull Kid shrugged and looked away.

As Zizi was ready to get out, the water shimmered, and she heard a voice from under the water.

“Zizi Slatki... do you accept the Earth as your source of power... if you do, go forward and claim your symbol.”

Just under the water in the sand, a circular object was glowing.

Zizi just about scuttled out of the water from fright, not expecting a glowing light from her bathing source. At first, she thought perhaps it was a glowing fish, but then there was the voice. Was she hearing things? What was the shining below the surface? Against her cautious judgement, Zizi reached into the water and plucked... a... circular rock?

The rock was round like a clock, with unique markings on it. It felt right to Zizi holding it. One last time, the motherly voice spoke to Zizi. “You are the first Zizi Slatki... a threat more dangerous than Vul’kar will arise to threaten the world... there will others that will join you in time... Earth Sage of Hyrule....”

"...!!!" Zizi actually looked... pale in the face. Skully was right. There was a medal, that strange voice, the sudden burst of power, all of his predictions were coming true. Was she really this sage?! The Zemlja almost seemed panicked.

"Hey. Do you like beef? I think there should be a small town still on the map here. Good forest gateway next to it." Turning, he finally noticed her panic. "Hey. You ok?"

"Skully..." Zizi held up the medallion to show him. "Please, please tell me you were joking about the shiny medals that sages get."

"Zizi. That's just a rock."

"Then why did I hear that voice from the water? Why was this thing shining?" Zizi shook her head and started denying it. "Nope. Nope, I'm not this Earth Sage. I can't be a sage. No, no, no, you can have this back." She put the medal at the base of the tree. "I'm not strong enough, not powerful enough, no, no, no..."

Skull Kid hopped down, not caring she wasn't changed. Placing two hands on her shoulders, he held firm. "Zizi, if you're being serious, and I think you are, there is nothing to be afraid about."

"What do you mean, there's nothing to be afraid about?!" Zizi sounded so unsure. "Look at what my elder sister has been through! She's a queen! She has many people who adore her and love her, and she's so strong, but look at what all happened to her!" The Zemlja sounded paranoid. "Targets on her back from that biased council, Vul'kar wanted her dead, and who knows what might happen next. What if someone tries to kill her because they want a Hylian woman on the throne? Power just creates more grief! I don't want power like that if all that will happen is more bad things!"

"Zizi. Being a sage isn't about power. It's about helping people and giving to the community. Some are public with their identities. Most aren't. Besides, the power you get is about being responsible with it. There's always going to be dangers." Skull Kid pointed in the direction of Clock City. "Link defeated Ganondorf, only for a month later to fight to stop me from... destroying the world..."

"...? You?" Zizi had not heard this story before. All she knew was Skully was an old time friend of Link's. She just assumed he had helped the hero in the past or in this lifetime with a burden.

"Yeah. See above the city? Long, long, long ago, I was a troubled soul, who came across a terrible power. That power was known as Majora's Mask." Skull Kid waddled away from Zizi, looking directly at the city now, as if in an unpleasant trance. "I wanted to destroy the world Zizi. By cursing the moon and having it go on a set path to crush the town and detonate the Earth. I hurt a lot of people Zizi. Some of it from control by the mask. Many because I wanted to hurt people. I thought it was fun."

"... why did you want to hurt people, Skully?" Zizi asked him very quietly. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yes. No. I thought it was fun. I didn't know better. I just felt angry all the time... sometimes I still don't know better I guess. I thought you'd have fun today. But all I did was hurt you." Skull Kid looked down, starting to shiver. Coming to Termina, looking at the center of his worst actions, and feeling terrible about himself. "You must think I'm not a good friend..."

Zizi felt horrible for Skully. What did he go through in the past to make him hate the world? There were plenty of reasons not to like people, but to want to destroy the earth by crashing the moon into it? That was... a huge stretch. The only reason she could think of warranting such an extreme measure was if he lost everything due to the actions of the world, but... was it really justifiable? She was not sure. But, Zizi did not want to be judge of his past atrocities.

Wrapping her arms around Skully's shoulders, she pulled him into a tight hug. "It's okay to be angry. It's not okay to want to take it out on innocents." Zizi stated softly. "We all get mad sometimes. You didn't mean for the giant to cause such trouble. But, I didn't like how you want me to be a hero too. That hurt my feelings." She admitted to him. "I don't have to be someone great like Rinku to hang out with you, do I? Are you content with me just being me?" Taking a breath, she stated. "I don't want to be this Earth Sage, really, but... if I could help people, I don't think it'd be so bad. I still want you to be my friend, and I want to be there for you. But, I'm only human, Skully." Zizi thought of the future. "I might get married one day, and have kids of my own. I'm going to get old. Sometimes, I might not have the energy to keep up with you anymore. You'll still be my friend when that day comes, right? Friends forgive each other. So, if you promise to stay my friend, I'll forget about this silly incident and we'll go have a little fun. True fun."

"Hmmmm ok." Skull Kid nodded, hugging Zizi back. "What kind of fun?"

"I could teach you how to play checkers if you like." Zizi offered, resting her chin on top of Skully's head. "Or we could play tag, but you'd totally lose. I'm faster than you. Hide and seek would be nice, but this area is way too big. I could always create a huge slide for you to ride into the water if you want to go swimming in a clean section of water. There's a lot we could do."

"Ok…. You going to put your clothes on first?"