#also wish i didn't have to wake up at sunrise and can only start sleeping at sunset becAUSE OF THE FUCKING SQUIRRELS

[snekdood]

wish i could take care of myself enough to hang out with ppl who care about me and want me to take care of myself

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 17/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: (Baby Mk trying to wake up macaque) Macaque: Wukong your son's awake Wukong: Before sunrise he's your son. Lol lion King reference

Aaaaaaahhh I love it! I was thinking the same!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK is experiencing any other Yaoguai urges? Besides his crush instincts and fun Monkey habits and behaviors.

mmmmm I think he mostly sometimes starts a tantrum in monkey style, where he starts to move a lot and jumps around

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like do macaque and wukong have rings or anything like now I think it would be cute if they renewed their vow.

I think I need to go study traditional chinese weddings traditions

l@ovingshadowpeaches ha chiesto: Ohhh my gosh i finally have the balls to send you this ask!! I adore your shadowpeach bio parents AU SO SO SO MUCH, your art style is so satisfying and mesmerising to look at, the plot is chefs kiss and I hope you know I LOVE all the soysauce duo content i am being fed and our Macaque introject adores it because the MK he knows is his son and your comic makes him feel a lot more valid and closer to his boy, your comic is so comforting to both him and me. I can't wait to see how it all plays out and I can't express enough how much we love love this comic!! All the love!!! GAH!!!

awww tysm for your ask!!!! :')

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think that is hilarious that macaque yoinked the great sage. Also other demons jealous Mac?!?! I need more jealous mac. I can only imagine it went like, Here is a basket of delicious peaches for your enjoyment. Excuse me while I go beat the shit out this demon for trying to take you away (Not that they could even if they got past Macaque).

hehe meanwhile Wukong's ego grows tenfold

Anonimo ha chiesto: SHADOWPEACH BIO PARENT AU The last question had me saying: what was Pigsy's and Tang's reaction to Mk's l̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ crush on Red Son? And also the court napping thing?

I think at first they didn't believe it, then they realized what happened, and didn't know wheter being shocked or not since they should have absolutely saw it coming.

@vex--lynn ha chiesto: Do you find it crazy how much you've affected the Fandom, like you've taken it by storm! It's kinda like when "Garden across our collarbone" took over the Fandom. In the end, we're left crying happy tears. I'm so happy to have found this comic while it was still being made cause I feel like I'm part of the adventure of these crazy monkies! I wish you nothing but the best for you!! <3

BRO u CAN'T JUST PULL OUT THAT NAME AND MINE IN THE SAME CONTEXT. That fic is like an atomic bomb I'm just a humble artist drawing gay monkies.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just want you to know that your LMK comic is getting me through a really hard time in my life right now. It really helps to have something to smile about and look forward to. Thank you so much for all the recent fluff. It brings me a lot of joy. 💕 Awwww tysm!!

Aww that's so nice to hear!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Okay since mac has 6 sensitive ears... wouldn't be sometimes hard for him...? l mean what if there was very strong noises like fireworks or smt around!? U know what is the best solution for this!! Mac lying down between wukong's arms and put his head on chest and listen to his heartbeat!!! This will absolutely will calm him down right? I WANNA SEE THIS IN YOUR COMICS PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAASS

askjcbaicbasc that's sooooo cute! Maybe, perhaps, in the future, who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is it slowly building back up to shadowpeach getting back together or? 🤔 idk their relationship status rn

situationship so bad these 2 are sleeping together and have a kid but still are allergic to flirt like normal people.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Got a question about Sun Wukong being trans. I know he probably uses glamour to hide his ✨✨boobies✨✨. But like, is he also using tape or are they kinda just... Out Cause now I'm thinking about the times we've seen him shirtless so like... ???

before he learned to shapeshift he mostly used bandages since that's all he could do at the time. Now MK is teaching him what binders are and he couldn't be more grateful.

@ayrza ha chiesto: I know you may not share it, or even read it, but I need to get it out of me. Do you realize that MK has only had father figures and no mother figures? Which means that the simple word "MAMA" carries too much sentimental weight and that's... 🥹 THIS COULD NOT BE MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN YOU ALREADY MADE IT!!! MY BABY SAID MAMA!!!! 😭✨💖

o my gAAAAHHD I THINK THAT WAS UNINTENTIONAL OF ME BUT THIS CHANGES EVERYTHINGGG

@s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e ha chiesto: question: what does MK call Pigsy and Tang? Anonimo ha chiesto: I love the new post i am crying 😢 😭 But I do have a question is mac mama and wukong Baba, or is wukong Mama and mac baba this is an important question I have for you???

Pigsy is "Dad" and Tang is "Papa". Mac is "Mama" and Wukong is "Baba"

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve seen many many drawings and intereptations of Mac being all piecered, especially on his ears cause if you have six, you gotta use em. Does macaque have any piercings in your au or is his ears too sensitive for that in your mind? Does he like to fidigit with them or any body else?

mmmm he can perfectly have it. I think he would have a few, but only rings and like each of them is far from the others in the lobe area because I can imagine someone with sensitive Hearing wouldn't like to hear the sounds of metal or earrings tingeling every time he moves around.

@alchemical-spill-on-aisle-three ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach comic, is Mei going to help MK with his crush? I just think it would be really funny if they got into hijinks while trying to get MK and Redson together lol

Mei is the one who organized their sparring meetings in the first place. She was Spicynoodle number 1 fan since the beginning.

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: Hmm... if Kai is gonna be MK and Red Son's son does that mean that Nya is gonna be Mei's daughter?

Omg yes. But guys don't tempt me or I might make a "Spicynoodle 50 years later/ninjago crossover" comic the size of the shadowpeach one if we go down this path

Anonimo ha chiesto: If mk is a trans does he still get period?

yes

Anonimo ha chiesto: what is MK’s favorite thing about red boy?

The fact that he tries to hide his emotions but his fire powers reflects them out of his control. MK thinks it's very cute.

Anonimo ha chiesto: So, are you ever going to make a sick episode for the bio dads? I am asking because I am sick, and it would be interesting to see what they are like when sick.

nope sorry. donesn't fit in the current schedule. But MK will go at the hospital at some point if that's of any reassuring.

@sokda-lal-ashes ha chiesto: Do you have why doodles that aren't exactly in the stories but that fits your bio parents au? I love your art so much!! Especially your redson design!!!

Yes but they are spoilers. Sorryyy

Anonimo ha chiesto: Wukong: hay don't forget to eat breakfast. Macaque: what are you talking about I just ate Wukong: you had espresso & anit depressants that is not a meal. Macaque (repeats mocking Wukong) I don't need your judgement I feel like the whole being revived thinks makes macaque sometimes not realize he's hungry or thirsty

ahah how much I relate (I don't take antidepressant but a lot of magnesium bc of mood swings)

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Wait… if macaque gets his power from a lunar eclipse, does that mean that wukong gets his power from a solar eclipse? Bye <3

Anonimo ha chiesto: Oh so I just had a thought! Since the light hair streaks are being caused by a lunar eclipse because Macaque draws his powers from the moon, is the opposite true for Wukong? Are any of his powers from the sun and would something happen if there was a solar eclipse? Love all the world building in your comics its all so good!!!

mmm I don't think that's how it works.

Anonimo ha chiesto: wait, so since the brotherhood knew about Macaque courtnapping Wukong, did they ever have to witness the monstrosity of cuddles and affection you describe Shadowpeach when they’re together? I could only imagine the awkwardness. Or many they’re totally cool with them being open with each other right in front of them. I know th3 brotherhood won’t show up in your comic as you’ve said before but a fan can only dream.

Oh yeah. O yeah they did.

@shamelesschopshopwasteland ha chiesto: How are Macaque and Wukong? Do they spend time with each other outside of sleeping? (Also I love you AU!!! <3)

Macaque still works from time to time to the Dojo in weekdays, and also likes his alone time, but has been spendind more time with Wukong to help the other monkeys and telling stories about what happened in all those years they missed when they were still enemies.

Anonimo ha chiesto: (I LOVE YOUR ART SM IFDJKEWVJHA, make sure to take breaks!!) Considering Macaque doesn't like the cold. (I love that HC so much, especially because I like to HC that he's freezing 24/7 can only warm up with hot springs and touch but not actual heat/the sun) How would Macaque react in a snowstorm/winter. Would he just bundle up a lot or lock himself in a room or something similar?

3 layers of jackets and self-heating socks when he's going around, otherwise Hot springs every evening.

Anonimo ha chiesto: what other nicknames/pet names does SWK and Macaque have for one another beside peaches and plum?

mmm I think Sun and Moon

@patienceandpokemon ha chiesto: Okay, rip my heart out with happiness in P7 of Monkie trio with the moonlight reveal why don't you?! THANK YOU! But in seriousness, in the latest bit . . Are Mac and MK recharging their shadow powers under the moonlight? Is that why Mac never really attacked in season 1-3 in your AU of LMK, unless there had been a full moon prior? Or am I snowballing into unrelated territory? Anywho, love the comic! He's so fucking fluffy and white like a pearl! And MK, baby fluff!!!!!

Wait he actually did it in the series?? I never noticed!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soooooo we know Macaque did the courtnapping for shadowpeach so who did the courtnapping for the demon bull family? PIF or DBK👀

I think PIF did?

@boonalina ha chiesto: Question: In your AU, when exactly did Mac and PIF become sworn siblings? Cuz we know Wuk and Mac were sworn bros with DBK, and then DBK "betrayed" them by getting together with PIF. So when exactly would Mac have become sworn siblings with her? Was it like during the time Wukong was under the mountain or smth? Cuz it does seem like Mac drifted apart from the Brotherhood when Wukong was imprisoned.

this is a fandom headcanon, but I believe it was a little after Wukong was imprisoned, and a little after Macaque was revived

[sweetstarart]

Ahoy neighbors!! Here's how Howdy's day went (sorry I'm so late!!)

Sunrise

Eddie and I are thick as theives! He's the only person who gets up at the same time as me (other than Sally). While we scrubbed the decks, I told him about my current interest. Ghosts. I got to tell him about auras and possession and he actually sounded interested! I'm so glad that I joined this crew, my home town just didn't view things the way they should've. Wally is up early too, is he opening his necklace? Wait a second, that's an apparitious pendant! Those things are only used to seal incredibly dangerous ghosts...

This can't be good.

Noon

I can't believe our ship is possessed! On any other occasion, I'd be over the moon about this but that whole pendant thing has me worried. Especially since Barn's suddenly come down with something. I spoke to him and he says he's really dizzy and can't sleep. I asked him when he started feeling these symptoms and he said it's when he was about to tell the ghost to leave. That can't be a coincidence. I had a theory, but I decided to investigate a bit more before jumping to conclusions. After gathering some information my suspicions were proven to be correct, Barnaby was under the weather due to a failed possession. Luckily, I have just the thing for that! While we were talking, a thought crossed my mind, if the spirit was in the pendant, then their power should be stripped to the point where they can only possess objects. The fact they even attempted to latch onto a sentiment host is strange...

What could they be after? Maybe I should've asked Barnaby before I put him to sleep, he mainly babbles and barks when he's tired. Its really sweet, but I don't have time to think about that now. I've gotta get to the bottom of this.

Sunset

I've spent the entire day buried in my books and I've come up with a theory. There's not much supporting it but its the best I've got for now. What if the ghost (who I've overheard Wally is named Home) is trying to control us? Think about it, everyone on this crew listens to the captain. If Home manages to get their hands on that vessel without us realizing, they could make us do whatever they want. That might be why they possessed our ship, they'd be able to watch us and hear us no matter what. They'd learn exactly what to do to manipulate everyone on deck.

I hope I'm wrong. That'd be seriously messed up. I gotta tell Barnaby about this at some point. I have an idea though! Possession takes a lot of energy, meaning as long as Home remains the boat, they'll have to sleep. When they go to sleep, that's when we'll discuss our plan.

Wait a second, are the mates trying to start a band? God i wish I brought my fiddle with me!

Night

Home went back into their pendant! Nows my time to strike. I knocked on the door, thank the stars he's awake. I told him about my theory, he told me that if they really were stripped of their power, there would be no possibility of them hurting us. But we both know that ghosts can get stronger though different means. For Barn, its food. For Home? We aren't sure.

We have to get more information on them, I said I'd spend tonight skimming through all my books to get as much info as possible, he told me not to. He says he's been asleep all day, so he'll make up for it by doing the work for me. I hate to admit it, but I actually am really tired right now.

I have an idea, I'll sleep in here tonight, that way he can wake me up whenever he needs help/ a break. He better not let me sleep through this. If we don't figure out what Home wants, they could doom us all. Also, he's been working much too hard lately and I can tell its stressing him out.

[ya9amicide]

The End of the World In a Woman’s Hands [Newsies]

chapter eight

♡ newsies masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Being a girl in the everyday world is difficult. Being the leader of the Manhattan Newsies and a girl? Even more so. Especially when nobody knows you're a girl and the truth is the closest kept secret you have ever had. For Jack Kelly, keeping the truth of her gender a secret is one she's found easy after doing so for many years. Unfortunately, having close encounters with the iron fist, Pulitzer, and a new Newsie who seems determined to get to know her, that secret might just become the opposite.

pairing: fem!jack kelly x david “davey” jacobs

warnings: none

The orange glow of a sunrise is reflected in the window. David appears inside, in a modest nightgown. He opens the window and breathes in the morning air. Then he sees Jack hunched against the wall on the fire escape, shivering.

“Did you sleep there?” He asks, waking Jack up. “Why didn't you wake us up?”

“Didn't wanna disturb nobody…anyway, it's like the Waldorf out here…great view, cool air.”

David glances back into his home, thinking. “Go up on the roof.” He pops back inside and she shrugs, climbing onto the roof. 

Jack stretches and something crackles in her pocket–the rally leaflet. She's looking at it thoughtfully as David climbs up behind her, spotting the leaflet. “It’s crazy, you know? It's all getting so big. The family's very worried about me and the boys. And you, too.”

Jack looks surprised. “Your mom and pop are worried about me?”

“The whole family…,” David murmurs. He unfolds a bundle of cloth to reveal a breakfast of bread and milk. He offers it to Jack and she digs in hungrily. “You always say you're moving away when the strike's over. To Santa Fe. I've never been out of the city. What’s it like?”

“You'd like it out there,” she says, talking around the food in her mouth. “They got this big yellow desert and the air's real blue, see, from the sky, and the sun, it's bigger out there.”

David smiles teasingly. “It's the same sun as here.”

Jack swallows the bite. “Yeah, well…it looks bigger.” She chuckles but then pauses. “Not that I been there or nothin'.”

“Guess your parents wrote you about it. Bet you can't wait to see them again.”

She looks away from him to hide what she’s really feeling. “Sure…big family reunion. Soon's I get the dough for the train fare.”

David’s gentle smile quickly turns into a frown. “But…you spent all your money to rent the theater.”

“Yeah, well. Some things is more important than Santa Fe. The strike can’t wait…the boys can’t wait.”

The night of the rally, the place is packed. The band plays and a thundering cheer goes up as Jack, David, and Spot leap on the stage. Jack raises her hand and the noise subsides, the band stops. Everybody looks at Jack in expectant silence. She lets it build for a moment, then– “Carryin' the banner!”

“Carryin' the banner!” The Newsies echo.

The noise subsides and Jack speaks. “We come a long way but we ain't there yet–and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on! That means we get tougher too.” The Newsies cheer. “It also means we get smarter! That's why we're gonna listen to my pal David and stop soakin' the scabs-.” They start yelling, cutting her off.

“Whatta we s'pose to do? Kiss 'em?” Racetrack asks.

“I personally wouldn't go that far, Race.”

Spot steps forward, punching his fist into an open palm. “Any scab I see, I soak 'em–period!”

“That's just what they want you to do,” Davis says. “So they can say we're just thugs.”

“I don't care what they say. Some of us ain't made to just take it! I say anybody hurts us, we hurts them worse! Who's with me?”

A large faction roars in agreement; arguments break out as Denton and Kloppman stand by the entrance doors. Behind them, the door creaks, and in slides Snyder. Kloppman sees him and whispers urgently to Denton, who starts moving after him.

Jack starts getting annoyed, wishing her boys would behave better but knowing it’s difficult with so many boroughs in one place. “That's right, start fightin' each other! Prove what the big shots say is true–we're street rats with no brains and no respect for nothin', includin' ourselves!” They start to quiet down. “Here's how it is: we don't stick together, we're nothin'. We don't trust each other, we're nothin'. We don't act together, we're nothin', and we might as well go back to the streets where we belong. What's it gonna be?” She turns her attention to Spot. “Whattaya say, Spot?”

“I say-,” he looks out at the crowd; the expectant faces, waiting, afraid it's all going to fall apart. Then back at Jack. “I say... that what you say... is what I say!” He spits in his palm and they shake. A huge roar goes up and the boys thrust their hands up in triumph. However, the applause isn't for them but for the curtain rising behind them revealing the dazzling vision of Medda, who walks smiling downstage and begins singing.

The song fills the hall as Jack, happy and proud, sees David smiling at her before she gets pulled away. David is watching her until Denton signals him, pointing his finger at Snyder who’s edging closer to Jack, checking the time on his pocket watch. He has a police whistle clutched in his hand. He puts it to his lips  and is about to blow it when Denton moves up behind him to distract him.

David tries to move to Jack to warn her but Race and the others have formed a chorus line and drag him into it. David shouts over the song. “ Jack! You've gotta get out of here! Snyder!” Jack cups her ear to hear him better. “Snyder!”

On the other side of the room, Snyder has had enough and blows the police whistle. Instantly police burst in from every door, all converging on Jack. Immediately she leaps off the stage into the arms of several boys below, then fights her way out the front door.

Jack rushes out and slides to a stop the mounted police form a half-circle cutting her off. From behind them, Weasel, the Delanceys, and a handful of thugs move through the horses towards her. Jack has no choice and she turns and races back into the theater. She darts past the cops back down the aisle where Snyder is waiting for her at the foot of the stage, crouched like a football player. As he starts to pounce on Jack David flies off the stage onto his back.

Snyder stumbles around as David hangs on in a wild piggyback ride. A cop pulls him off and hurls him to the floor. Weasel and his thugs burst in the doors, clubs swinging. The Newsies scatter, trying to escape, but at each exit door more cops are moving in.

Denton, horrified, shouts at the cops to stop when a thug cracks him on the head and he staggers, bloodied. Spot, Race, Boots dart into the wings and start working the pull ropes.

Cops converge on Jack at the foot of the stage, backing away, she leaps on stage desperately looking around when she hears Snyder behind her. “Show's over, Cowboy.”

She turns to see Weasel and the Delanceys grinning at her, clubs in their hands. They start toward her and suddenly disappear straight down the trap door that's suddenly opened beneath their feet. Jack sees Spot at a lever in the wings.

“Curtain goin' up, Jack!” Race yells. Race and Boots jerk the ropes of the fire curtain and Jack leaps for it as it starts to rise.

“Try to reach the skylight!” Boots tells her.

Cops leap for Jack's legs as she rises above them heading up into the flies. She hangs on, thrusts one fist into the air and shouts, “Carryin' the banner!”

In the theater, the battered Newsies cheer, heartened. Cops are trying to herd them out. David cheers for Jack as he watches her rise while Officer MacSwain maintains his grip on David’s arm.

Suddenly, Weasel climbs out of the trap and hurls his cudgel. It sails end over end and hits Jack in the side. Losing her grip, she plummets into the mass of cops and is engulfed in blue uniforms.

[smilemuse]

HE IS SOOTHED, A BALM ACROSS HIS FEELINGS HAS BEEN PLACATED TO ALEVIATE THE BURN. yoshida knows it's only temporary & they will have to talk about it in greater length but he can wait. he knows people wouldn't exactly pick denji, he's laugher, often overlooked & taken for granted until someone can't hear it anymore. it's the little things most people wouldn't know about denji, the way that he cares about someone yoshida knows he would do anything for them. he supposes it says a lot about denji being here despite that sorry situation of their friendship. he doesn't wish to continue that farce anymore of ignoring one of the most important people in his life. the only other person is buried deep into the earth's embrace. yoshida carries her wherever he goes, he always promised. it was always in his smile.

the quietness means that denji is thinking. it was something he has grown used to especially during their tutor sessions. yoshida had been around him far too long to know this about him. his question has caught him off guard, he was being shoulder checked to think about how much yoshida is to him. yoshida himself could write an essay with a completed thesis on what denji meant to him. he could spell it out simply with three words, but he knows this isn't the right time especially not when the heat of his body is telling him to shut down. ❛ that's nice to hear. ❜ instead he listens to denji & gives him a simple nod before willing himself one last bite. his appetite is not as big as denji's, but it's not small either.

when the blonde comes back, he reaches for the glass of water & his medicine. he takes it down with ease deciding to finish his water instead. yoshida knows the hydration will keep him at ease & hopefully start to help with the burn of his body. he sets the glass down before easing himself into bed & letting his heavy eyelids finally close shut.

YOSHIDA SILENTLY RISES FROM HIS SLUMBER & ADJUSTS TO THE WAY EVENING SKIES ARE OUT. there's a heaviness in his body, he's a heavy stone staying still against the current of water. he doesn't think he feels quite as hot as before, but the fever still runs rampant. he also registers he feels connected to something, wires plugged into the socket to power up it's function. the sight that he beholds is like watching a sunrise & there's a bit of a smile that props on quiet lips. it was denji who was right beside him, their hands interlocked together dozed off. the taller boy wonders how long he had been right next to him. his heart feels as warm as his body knowing that denji wants to make sure he's okay even in his sleep.

with his free hand he reaches out, his palm patting the top of his head. it was a habit he had gotten used to as a gesture to show that denji is doing a good thing. his hand trails down cupping his cheek. grey hues study the peacefulness set in denji's visage, studying the rest of his face. yoshida eyes his mouth wishing he could get away with kissing him, but knowing he doesn't want to risk denji getting sick. he takes the time to ease out of denji's hold since he wants to get him a blanket. he leaves his bed before heading back into his closet & reaching for a spare dark blue blanket with a soft teddy plush texture. he heads back before wrapping denji with the blanket since he didn't want him to get cold.

❛ denji, ❜ the timbre of his voice is the sound of rain. he wonders if he'll wake up. yoshida gives his shoulder a gentle shake. ❛ sorry to bug you, but i was wondering if you could check my temperature. ❜

denji knew himself to be a mostly thoughtless individual. using his brain like a normal person required too much work; to think of others and their feelings was too much, too complicated. up until now he'd been thinking of himself, his own selfish needs and wants. to get a girlfriend or multiple, to get laid, and then lead on with life as a tramp or something. he truly had no wants or goals for himself until he met yoshida; someone who honestly wanted the best for him. someone who always looked out for him, stood by his side and vouched for him when he's unable to speak up for himself. denji never really thought too deeply about his actions, until recently. whether he meant to or not, denji began thinking often of the boy and his long bangs, his pretty face, and his tall presence that seem to captivate a room and himself.

the measured looks of shock that yoshida displays says a lot to denji. was that single misunderstanding all it was that caused what happened in the first place? denji almost wants to get mad, insult yoshida and call him an idiot for straining their friendship to such a point; for getting jealous and not talking to him properly. however yoshida's question put denji in a bit of a conundrum.

what was yoshida to denji?

denji wasn't completely sure — yoshida is the first person he's come to care about to this extent. when he realizes this, and a myriad of other things, denji begins questioning so much about himself and about yoshida. the way he once craved the affection of anyone, soon dwindled down to a single person. not just any person but another boy. denji had never once connected these two possibilities together — weird when his older brother has a boyfriend himself. but denji? denji hadn't been attracted to guys; he never had been before, but his heart screams at him that this is the feeling he's been chasing after for so long. he needs a moment to settle things within himself before he could even possibly approach yoshida about this newfound revelation; but he needs to give yoshida an answer.

“no,” denji answers softly, “yer not just a friend; yer not just anything to me. you mean... you mean a lot more ta me than jus' bein' a friend, yoshida.” he hopes it serves as yoshida's way to interpret that he means a lot more to denji than what he may ever know at this point in time. as badly as he wishes to press on the topic, it's probably not a very good idea to do so while yoshida's body was quickly surrendering to fever. not while he's deliriously being soft and kind; not while he's blurting his heart out carrying emotions denji himself is in the middle of sorting out. so with a careful smile, denji nods, leaving him with his food and with instructions to where his medicine is. another moment of reprieve for denji to still his turbulent head and heart. he pilfers through a few cabinets which he knows he's never been in until he finds the fever reducer. he grabs a cup of water as well, waiting a moment to make sure he still wasn't an embarrassed mess, then walks into yoshida's rooms again.

“'ere ya go,” he trades the medicine for the tray and dishes. he feels a little awkward but he makes his way to the door again. “i'mma go wash these for ya. if ya wanna go ahead 'n sleep, feel free ta. i'll come back in here.” he could work on his homework or study in the meanwhile. he's been getting better at doing majority of his work on his own now, he could fend for a while.

[crying-fantasies]

Where Is Your Soul?

Synopsis: Everyone can live, everyone can have a future, a brighter one, if you give up your own.

Warnings: Character's death, suicide thought, self-sacrifice, angst, dismembered body, blood, mention of sexual assault, if you don't like this don't read, it's just me searching for some pain.

Jonathan Joestar

- When he declined your offer to keep searching for Dio's possible corpse he didn't believe that it would end like this, he wanted to spent time with Erina after so long, he could have told you, he really should have done it.

"Maybe later" He was trying to get to see her soon, so he left you there, in the street near your home, you only needed to turn around the corner and get safely to your house, "go straight home, it's dangerous at night"

In another reality you did as Jonathan told you

But now you decided to go along your own idea and turned around, entering the dark streets

- He never thought that you would go alone.

- When he heard of the shooting he didn't connect the dots right away, he thought that you would be still sleeping, your hair a mess and refusing to wake up earlier.

- Then, out of nowhere his father was calling for him, he was going downstairs when he noticed his master, Mister Zeppeli, with a gloomy expression that his father was starting to show too.

- His master appeared with something on his hands, when Jonathan saw it he didn't believed.

- He wished that it was a joke of yours, a weird one, a terrible one, a sick one.

"The body was found next to ashes and this..."

- He was holding your revolver, the one that your father gifted you so many years ago, one that your family didn't want back because of such a thing, such a tragedy, happening.

- It had blood over it, and anyone would know that it was yours.

- Jonathan didn't believed such a thing.

- George tried to stop his son but Jonathan was stronger, he was faster, he got to the place of the events in such a short amount of time.

Why wasn't I fast enough when you need him?

- When he arrived he found Speedwagon there, looking perplexed at the officers and a body in the floor, the blanket over it to spare the gruesome scene from the public didn't cover all the blood that was painting the floor or the walls.

"They really did it" he was trembling, crying, in his hand was your coat, the one that you used to carry all your guns around, it was empty, every gun and bullet on the floor, with blood, "They are both death, Dio is death and..."

- Speedwagon got wind of what was happening, but it was already late, when he got there he found you dragging your body on the floor, so much blood on your way, some kind of bloody pulp on your hands that then he realized was the remains of Dio.

- You left them fall in the sunrise light of the new day, smiling at him while it was turned to ashes that got carried away by the wind.

"Hey, Rob, I did it..." Your body on the floor, your hand full of ashes like some other parts of your body before you finally collapsed, he wanted to call for help but the police areived and at first they put the blame of such a crime on him.

- They just concluded that you committed suicide.

- Even if Jonathan asked Robert would never tell him that you used yourself to trap Dio in your embrace and started shooting, the bullets got to him but also your body, it weakened him and you could wait till the sunrise to finally kill him with the sun, the horrible escene would be forever on his mind.

- People would talk about you, about how your soul would haunt forever that street, how even in the future people would find the many bullets that you used in the walls near.

- Jonathan just thought, with tears on his eyes and your revolver in his hands, how reckless you were, just like always, even when he believed that Dio was already death you thought otherwise, not believing that everything ended, and you were right, even so, why didn't you ask him for help when you found Dio, why did you just go there all alone and without calling him for help, but what if you did, what if Dio caught you and you could only fight trying to survive? If you called for help but he was so far away to even know that you needed him there?

- Why did you choose to go there? All alone, almost ready to die for something that was supposed to be his responsibility.

- When his son is born, Jonathan would be overprotective, almost forbidding him to be near the place where the "Crazy ghost" would be roaming, that damned street where his nightmares would take place from time to time, punishing George when he, after a dare, put a foot in that place.

"Don't you dare to return there!" in all the years that he was a father, Jonathan have never shouted at his son.

- He used so much of his mental strength to even go after his son at that place.

"Dad, why do you have a revolver?" His son would ask but Jonathan would never answer, just taking the gun in it's glass box out of his son's reach.

"I'm..." He finally decided to tell his son when he was 15 years old and planning to enlist, the terror of having his son near weapons was real, and for a moment he would be terrified about the possibility that George would die like you, like a soldier, dying for others, "I'm just taking care of it for a dear friend"

- Years go and never return, now, after so long, he can be near that street again, it's early in the morning and with the help of his wife can finally put a feet there, say a prayer and left flowers for you, finally accepting that you died that day, that he can let go of your ghost.

- For a moment he believed that he saw you with the first sunrise's lights, smiling with mischief at him, snorting in disbelief and laugh at his tear stained face like the good ol' times.

- He hopes that if there is an afterlife then he can meet you again.

You die, all your descendants never existed, you defeated the great danger, everyone else survived

Are you happy with your choice?

Joseph Joestar

- Joseph would be the instigator of many problems but you were the one that would get the two out of trouble, he believed that it was a good dynamic, but then he would regret such beliefs.

"Why can't we just talk about it with them?" You asked that when everything started, like the peace lover that you were, Joseph only said that you didn't understood while giving you a hug, his hand on your hair and messing with it.

"Don't worry your little head" he would say while while smiling, Joseph had his usual mischievous grin, "everything is going to be fine, I will get that ring and we will live till we are old people"

- He knew of your worries and maybe he was a bit bitter about the fact that you liked Caesar, and that maybe you already did the do, it irks him to even think about it.

In another reality you would listen to Joseph and not worry, they were strong

But now you decided to use your imaginary friend, you had an idea, you could at least help a bit

- There is no one on your room when Joseph goes to say good night to you, maybe spend some quality time together after so long, and also to be sure that Caesar wasn't in your room again.

- He believed that maybe you got to eat something or to walk around the island, but then he thought that you may be with Caesar, he wants to puke at the idea and decided to let you be.

- The next morning you weren't in your room, with Caesar or even in the island.

- Joseph was worried, but he believed that you would be doing some tourism around bay because the boat wasn't in the shore.

- Lisa Lisa, Loggins and Messina thought otherwise because the boat was in reality there, bits of steel near it, also because the Red stone of Aja that she had was in reality a perfect copy made of steel.

- Who would do such a thing and keeping her in the shadows about if not you? The one with a strange ability to move things around without even touching them and to create different things out of steel, perfect copies of metal.

"You two will keep training while I'm away" Lisa Lisa didn't gave much explanation and just left.

- She was the one that found you, or at least what was left of you, your body impaled by giant metal bars.

- At first she believed that they got thrown to you, resulting in your death, but she then notices that those things got out of the soil around you, she notices the traces of a fight around but only your body is there, she finds what appears to be the sacred stone but it's broken and pieces of red steel and glass like pieces are everywhere, next to the pieces is the ring that Joseph needs.

"I'm not sure what was the idea but I found the real one secluded underground with many layers of steel around it" Lisa Lisa didn't have a soft touch, she knew that, and maybe she could have been a little more worried about the shattered expression in the faces of her son, her student and Suzi.

- Joseph just tried to figure out what happened with you while trying his hardest to be stronger after drinking the content inside the ring, he cried when he noticed little drops of dry blood on it but he stopped himself soon when the mask on his face didn't let him breath or cry like he wanted.

- When the time comes and they are ready to fight they only find Wammu, Esidisi and Kars, they didn't expected to see them there.

"We already accepted your victory, why are you even here?"

- Turns out that the day that you disappeared you took the real Red stone of Aja.

- For what the pillar men answer to their questions they now know that the stone that you left underground was a perfect copy, a second one, just to take the real one to the pillar men and destroy it in front of them.

- You were little, you were unarmed, so they didn't expected you to form some kind of hammer out of nothing, "this is the real one, the cause of so much problems"

- All pillar men jumped to stop you when you used steel to destroy the stone, summoning steel bars around you to stop them because you couldn't destroy it so easily, they got near you and that made you attack even more close to you, ending in your death and the stone being destroyed by the same bar of steel.

"That one" Wammu started to talk, "Was indeed a great warrior, so I let them the death ring"

- Caesar wanted to keep fighting, to avenge his father's death and your sacrifice with a broken heart and tears in his eyes.

- Joseph didn't know what to do.

"Don't worry your little head, I will take care of it!"

- And like he said, he would take care of it, accepting the plan that you almost did with the pillar men, a way of peace, it was everything but easy yet his achievement finally brought what you wanted.

- He needed to explain what happened to everyone back home, when he finally arrived to his grandmother's house he was welcomed in a warm home and her worried expression, he just wanted to get into his room but in his way he collided with a picture of the two of you hanging on the corridor.

- It was just too much for him.

- Erina had to help her grandson, hugging him back together when she found him crying in front of the picture, finally shattering his shield of normalcy and letting go all his pain even when he kept denying his tears, even when he tells his grandma that he will be okay soon and tries to believe it himself.

- She knows that he is lying, he also knows it, because he has lost someone that he held dear to him, someone that was with him since the very beginning, someone that he loved and he just realized it.

- He put a candle for you near the picture and a steel brooch with the form of your favorite flower next to it, in that way, a flower that would never wither.

You die, all your descendants never existed, the war between the Pillar men and the Hamon masters was over, everyone else survived

Are you happy with your choice?

Jotaro Kujo

- Love can make people do stupid things, that is something that Jotaro believed, but in a different way, for him love would make you a blind idiot.

- He saw it with the girls that chase him, it's not love, it's some kind of infatuation, but they want that belief that they like him, that they love him.

- His grandfather told you that you must go with the others after they returned.

In another reality you would listen, you would wait while the others go ahead.

But now you decided to go alone, you knew Hamon, just a little, but it will help you.

- No one noticed when or where did you go, Iggy was also nowhere to be found, but they had an idea faster than later after hearing a fight inside, a explosion that shattered many windows and the ominous roar of two creatures.

- You were still alive, almost in the verge of death, destruction around you after the attack of Vanilla Ice with Cream, you used Overdrive to finish him but it took your arm after touching it.

"Will you keep me company to the end?" Iggy lost a little piece of his ear but after looking at him you found relief that no further damage was done.

- Talking to the little dog wasn't common, maybe you were starting to lose your mind due to blood lost, even when you already closed it with Hamon.

- You continued till the moment that you noticed an ominous shadow behind you, Iggy barked but it was late, an unknown hand grabbed you from your neck and started to put pressure, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't use Hamon, you couldn't use your Stand.

- You recognized the man, that demon, that nightmare, with your last energy you tried to land a hit in vain, a kick that was blocked, a punch from your Stand was just too weak to inflict damage, The Fool was sent flying by a mere movement of his hand, then you give the command.

- Your Stand took Iggy and ran away, in the exact moment that Dio ripped apart your shirt and opened his mouth before finally biting you, but you smiled, pain cursing your whole body and a silent scream, puting your last breath to use.

- When the rest noticed your withered Stand approaching with an injured Iggy in their last arm they just needed to follow the pieces that kept falling from it, leaving a path of black pieces.

- The first one to found your body was Joseph, the one that raised you like one of his own flesh and blood, the one that teached you the ways of Hamon and the one that got you in all that mess.

- The rest just saw the old man trying to cover your exposed body with his own, sobbing and saying that it couldn't be, your ripped shirt and your face almost a distanced memory when now it had such a malicious wound in it that was still bleeding next to the one on your neck.

- Avdol with Iggy in his arms noticed that your Stand was fading, Polnareff remembered the attack to his sister and almost puked, Kakyoin would remember the day that Dio attacked him and almost had a panic attack, Jotaro was at a lost of words after seeing with his own eyes how your Stand just evaporated with a final and soft growl.

- You used your Stand running away to use ripple in your own body, affecting Dio in the way and making him lose part of his mouth and hand.

- You cleared the path and you gifted then a chance, it wasn't easy, at the end of all everyone was still fatally injured, one worst than the other, but they would survive.

- Joseph was the one to tell your family what happened, drifting apart the two families.

- Jotaro would return home, to his smiling mother, she was now safe and sound, and he tried to go with it, go on with his life even if it hurt.

- Every now and then he hears, in the middle of the night, the last growl of your Stand, one of pain, when he sleeps.

You die, your descendants never existed, Dio is finally death, all your friends return home and enjoy what life can offer.

Are you happy with your choice?

Josuke Higashikata

"(One) more time" you would say when he needed some extra energy in the middle of a fight.

- You did it often, even when they just needed the motivation to give their all in an exam, you would say the words, when they were in trouble and needed that shot of adrenaline you would be there to give some.

- Without the ability to cure you could at least improve power for a limited amount of time

"It's just a bit of my energy" you would say, giving little worry to it, "I only feel dizzy when I over use it"

- Everyone would laugh at your own description of your Stand, it could boost the homeostasis, improve one's health and pain resistance for a short or long period of time.

- You never overused it, so you never knew what would happen when you did it.

- Josuke was bleeding, everyone was like that, and you just found them with Shigechi in the middle of the street, your friend shouted in horror after he recognized the man in front of you, the man that tried to kill him.

In another reality you would take Shigechi with you and run away, make the killer follow you and give the others time to recuperate.

But now you decided to put your hand on his shoulder.

"We are going to fight..." You only whispered but now he felt stronger, Harvest was now even faster and numerous.

- While Shigechi was fighting you kept using your Stand on every one, once, twice and again, then to one nearest, once, twice and again.

- Then you were reached by a bomb.

- When Josuke opened his eyes he saw something on his hand, you were near him, your fingers touching his, and you started to talk in a low voice.

"One more..." He almost didn't heard you, "One more!" Now he could, he understood what you were doing, "ONE MORE TIME!"

- Josuke could feel his body awakening, his mind refreshing in an instant, fast enough to catch your body and heal your wounds, he left you there in order to finally end the biggest danger.

- When the ambulance arrived he felt remorse and hate, but he was just too exhausted to think anymore, then he noticed that Jotaro was next to you and he wanted to ask you why you were still on the floor, was it that using your Stand tired you to that point? Crazy Diamond should have done the work just fine and you should be on your own feet by now.

"You fool..." He heard Jotaro say, and when he was near enough he noticed that you looked fine, you were supposed to be fine, he healed all your wounds.

- So what was the reason that your heart stopped working?

"Hey, this... This isn't funny"

- He didn't know what to say.

- The ambulance ended up picking your body too even when Josuke tried to stop it, Jotaro was the one to put him back on his right mind with a punch.

- He just couldn't grasp the idea that you died so easily, even worse, that you died seconds before he healed your body, he didn't know that you were gone when he touched you, he didn't notice, he just thought that you were exhausted.

- You body, it was warm at that moment, there was blood at your side due to the bomb that got to you, that same blood, he didn't noticed it on his hand, he didn't noticed when it dried up, leaving the sensation that he almost couldn't move it, he tried to clean it at the spot with tears on his eyes and the dry blood fell on the street.

- He realized one day that where you died a little plant started to grown in the middle of the street, not even a year later it was a giant rainbow like wisteria tree, one that emitted melodies with the wind and every person that hugged it could feel energized again, the street is now a park for tourism.

- All the friends that you did in Morioh still go there to reunite.

You die, your descendants never existed, Yoshikage Kira is death, all your friends can live a peaceful life, the "Rainbow tree" is a new point landmark in Morioh.

Are you happy with your choice?

Giorno Giovanna

- Your destiny was already set in stone.

- Meeting Giorno was only a way to make it come to you faster.

- You weren't exactly, and legally speaking, related to all the group so you were the first choice when there was the necessity to bought things and to interact with the public in general.

- Now that Trish was with you all someone needed to buy more supplies.

In another reality you would deny this, preferring to stay with the others while Narancia did the shopping.

But now you take the shopping list and go, alone, trough a different direction and cross paths with the last person that you wanted.

- The explosion that results of your sonic attack is something that everyone is familiar with to that point, they recognize it quickly.

- They are near to the point where they will let Trish with her father, but a second and third explosions later they decide to at least see what is happening, who is attacking you and where exactly are you.

- Using Aerosmith was the first choice.

- Because the Stand returned with the red book that you always had in hands, Bruno is the first to open it, knowing how it works, and what he sees makes some take Trish to safety while the others go to help you.

- Giorno gets the book and also read it.

"You cross paths with DopiolovaiD, Trish's father, who is in his way to kill her and the group that comes with her"

"He realized your presence, your fear, he attack- he has you in a corner, something happened, the time isn't right"

- It was like a horror story, the pages in the book continue to move, to flip, now full of the same words.

"It hurts, it hurts you so much, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts" the same word keeps repeating, page after page of the same words.

"You are bleeding, it hurts- IT HURTS"

- Giorno is supposed to be in the group that protects Trish, but is her who tells him to go.

- When Giorno arrived it was already too late, two bodies on the floor, one is yours and the other is the one of a young man that he can't recognize, both bodies with blood on their ears, the book that he has on his hand starting to turn into ashes.

"If I can ask..." Days before you were eating ice cream together, he had extra cash because he stole a wallet, but he wasn't going to tell you that, you had some kind of heroic mind, "why the Mafia?"

"Why not?" He asked, to you and to himself, he remembers the man that helped him in his worst days and the changes that he wants to happen.

"I mean, what do you wanna do? How can the Mafia keep working without selling drugs or collecting protection money?" Your words held some truth, maybe the whole deal, and he didn't know how to answer you at that moment.

- Even years later he was struggling.

- All the group had to left both bodies on that place to avoid the police, but when Giorno got the power he ordered your body to be dragged back to Italy even when your family had already buried you.

- His people never touched or destroyed your first resting place, so your family would never notice.

- Giorno would use GE to keep flowers around your new resting place, he would visit you often and talk to you about how everything was going.

"I can create a cure for the addicted, I can protect everyone by just giving the order, I don't need their money, we can keep killing and obtain money only if the person is shit and the pay is good" his hand holds a bundle of rocks and these transforms into gold, then all the gold just rumble and turns to ashes, "but I can't take someone dear to me back from the death"

You die, your descendants never existed, Diavolo is death, all your group can achieve their dreams.

Are you happy with your choice?

[esthersarahhh]

characters; Levi Ackerman, gn!reader

summary; Levi disappears sometimes at night and reader confronts him about it

word count; 512

notes; HIII first time writing on tumblr yippiiee! I'd love to hear your thoughts and if you have any tips or anything i can improve let me know!

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Levi and I both know we can tell eachother anything, but there are certain things Levi keeps to himself. I know bits and pieces about his past, but not the full story. I never asked about it though, I didn't need to. But it's nights like tonight, where I'd wish I'd known what'd happened, so that I can help him, comfort him in some way.

Tonight is no different from any of the other nights. Sometimes I wake up because Levi keeps tossing and turning in his sleep, sometimes i wake up because he jolts wide awake in the middle of the night. Other times, he's just gone. Sometimes he's out on the balcony, just getting some air, but there are times where he's just...gone. I don't know where he goes but he always returns at sunrise.

Most of the time I don't mention it, so that he doesn't get yet another thing added to his pile of worry. But this time, when he doesn't return until evening, I know I have to ask. I hear the door to our shared room open. I don't look up from what im doing.

'' Where were you? '' I ask.

He doesn't answer. Instead he takes off his shoes and gear.

'' I know it's not easy dealing with everything you've been through Levi, but you can't just sneak off in the middle of the night like that. '' I say, turning around to face him.

'' I know. '' He simply says.

'' When are you going to tell me about it? '' I say, sitting next to him on the couch. '' I just want to help you, and understand you better. ''

I hear him release a big sigh. I immediately feel bad for saying that to him.

'' Im sorry, I shouldn't push you into saying anything. '' I apologize. If he doesn't want to tell me, he doesn't want to tell me. In the end, it's his choice. He knows this. He knows Im only trying to help, but he also knows he doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want to.

'' I'll tell you. '' he says. And he does. He tells me everything, from underground and Isabel and Furlan, to Kenny, to the scouts and all his comrades. I know he isn't going to say this out loud, but he's just scared of losing me. He's lost too much already. I don't think anything i'll say will make it better, I know no words can fix what he's gone through, so instead im scooting closer to him and placing my arms around him, aswell as my head his shoulder.

I whisper a quiet '' I'll never leave you. '' against his neck. After a few moments of sitting like this, I can hear his heart starts beating at a slower pace. He's fast asleep. God knows he deserves it. I grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around us. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and lay down. '' Goodnight love. ''

[yostresswritinggirl]

Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

[the-panmixxia]

A Family Album - Chapter 4: Sickly Snake (Dad Down!)

As Janus slowly woke up, he could already guess that he was ill. If the pounding tension headache or the fact he was awake before sunrise didn't give it away, the fact that he felt cold all over while Logan - who he'd coiled around to sleep - had wet sweat patches on his shirt consistent with where Janus had been holding him certainly did.

As per his usual odd ability to wake up whenever Janus did, Logan stirred awake with a few blinks and minimal half-asleep mumbles.

"Love? Why're we up?" the man asked, so Janus sighed and nuzzled the back of his neck.

"I'm awake because I've caught a bit of a cold, you're awake because you can't handle being the only sleeping person in a room."

Logan gasped suddenly and wriggled around, so Janus released his coil to allow him to turn easily. His love looked awfully concerned, cupping his face gently.

"You're ill?"

"A little under the weather, that's all." he responded, batting the hand from his face so he could hold them "Nothing concerning."

"I - wait, you've got a fever? I was under the assumption that you were cold blooded…"

Janus laughed and butted heads with the human, effectively shutting off his curious musings.

"You can research my anatomy all you wish at a later time, but for now, I'd really rather go back to sleep before the children wake up."

With the matter settled, going by Logan's single nod, Janus cuddled back up - muscles aching too deeply to justify coiling back around his love.

Logan also didn't bother moving around, face to face instead of their usual spooning. Instead he took his hands back and returned them to Janus' face, running the gentlest of fingers across his scales. Janus closed his eyes in contentment and was fast asleep rather soon.

…

The sun had risen and Janus was still dead to the word. Logan hadn't been able to go back to sleep, half concerned, half boiling alive from Janus' secondary heat. He was still curious as to how Janus had a fever, but for now he was adamant on helping his love.

Thankfully, Janus hadn't coiled around him like he usually would - it was comforting, sure, but incredibly hard to slide out of without poking Janus awake. He managed to roll out of bed as gently as possible, straightening up and finding his glasses on the side cabinet.

As he left the room, intent on pacifying the children from charging into their room to say good morning - which they both usually adored - and to begin some home remedies for sickness, he stopped for a moment to flip on the large overhead heat lamp, smiling as Janus relaxed ever so slightly.

"I love you" he whispered, before shutting the bedroom door.

The hallway was rather peaceful, no children awake just yet, aside from the little one currently curled up in the corner of the ceiling. Logan stood below him, smiling kindly and holding out his arms.

"Good morning, Virgil. Do you have cuddles for papa?"

The small spider trilled at him, pedipalps tapping together in a cute little applause scuttling down the wall for a hug. Logan gathered him up in a tight embrace, pressing a gentle kiss on his head.

"Sweet baby. Let's go wake your brothers up, yeah? Then I'll start some breakfast. How does that sound?"

Virgil blinked for a moment, processing, before wriggling and trying to crawl over Logan's shoulder with a single, sad whine. Logan figured it out rather quickly, crooning gently.

"Papa is having a sleep right now, little one, it's okay."

The little one whined softly and borrowed into Logan's collar bone, so he held strong and gave him a little shake the way Janus did. Virgil nuzzled against him somewhat somber, but stayed still, so Logan counted it as a win.

Making his way to the staircase, he noticed the twins' room (even though they really didn't need to share) was wide open, and glancing in showed the small, wooden bunk bed to be completely empty. Mildly concerning, though he continued downstairs nonetheless. Virgil noticed the lack of brothers in that room and whined high and sad - everything was wrong about today. Logan gently shushed him and focused on finding the two before anything serious was broken. He hoped the two of them, or at least Roman, had the sense to not leave the house, but any chaos within the house was free game.

It was unusual to not hear any rambunctious giggling or crashes, only faint music in the living room. Virgil scratched at his collar bone, restless, so he peppered the little one in kisses until he was making the deep, throaty sound that meant laughter.

Logan was completely expecting carnage, so it was a little confusing to see the spacious room completely void of any ruin. In fact, both Roman and Remus were fast asleep, curled up on the couch with Remy. Roman was tucked into his side, head resting on his chest and fast asleep. Remus was sprawled across the rest of the couch, head on the teens lap, snoring up a ruckus and drooling on his Starbucks-themed pyjama pants.

Remy himself was absent carting fingers through Remus' hair, using the arm that was wrapped around Roman to scroll through his phone - all of the lights were turned off, and his phone as dim as possible, which likely the only reason he was lacking his usual sunglasses. After a moment of Logan somewhat-eerily staring at the trio in stunned silence, the bundle in his arms squeezed a little baby noise, pedipalps up cheerfully at finding his brothers. Remy glanced behind himself, only mildly startled, as spending more than a week in this house tended to accustom one to jumpscares.

Logan shuffled in front of the couch, taking in the endearing sight, wishing he'd brought his phone down to capture the precious moment.

"Take a picture, girl, it'll last longer" Remy grumbled, sending Logan a frown that he would forever deny was really a pout.

"I was planning to, though I doubt you'd sit long enough for me to go and retrieve my phone."

Remy simply rolled his eyes, something about Logan being 'typical' before stopping still as Roman stirred. Once the movement had stopped, Logan sat on the couch next to them, asking quietly.

"Why are you all down here?"

Remy locked his phone, glancing down at the children.

"The both of them ran down here at twenty-to-five convinced they were gonna go fight 'The Dragon Witch'"

"A…dragon…witch?"

"Yeah, Logan, a dragon witch" Remy responded in a clear 'don't question it please' sort of tone.

"Ah, I see, so then what happened?"

"Well it was waaay too early to watch these little turds destroy the house, so I made em both warm milk, put it in one of my travel cups, added cinnamon and a splash of almond milk…" he trailed off, glancing at Logan, smiling at the man's wholehearted attention "...told them it's coffee since they always wanna try mine. Little shits drank it up."

Logan gasped, rather impressed at Remy's evil genius. "You tricked them into drinking warm milk so you could get them sleepy?"

"Damn right. Then I challenged them to make the couch as comfy as possible, cause kids, they'll do anything if it's a challenge. Then we sat down with the drinks and I put Sleeping Beauty on, cause I figured 'Hey, there's a dragon and a witch in this' so it'd probably satiate them." he gestured vaguely at the two "And it did. So like, yay for me, I outsmarted two five year olds."

Logan sent him a smile, side eyeing the clock. It was nearly nine am, the boys were normally awake at half eight with breakfast at nine. He should get on that.

"Why were you awake at four am?"

Remy sank back slightly, as though hiding behind the children, which probably meant he'd stayed up all night.

"Just couldn't sleep, babes. Simple as."

Logan sighed and stood up, intent on making breakfast. Remy gave him a longing glance, pulling his reusable cup out and wiggling it meaningfully. Logan really shouldn't enable Remy's caffeine addiction, but still, he took the cup with a look that hopefully conveyed 'I disapprove of your coffee intake even if I'm supplying it'

Remy just stuck his tongue out.

After that little diversion, Logan had almost forgotten Janus was still in bed, expecting his love to come stand beside him as they quietly deliberate what to make the children. Instead, he glanced down at Virgil, who seemed rather bored as he racked his brain.

'Oatmeal sprinkled with bugs and topped with banana' was a safe bet for little Virgil, though it was getting increasingly difficult to make it for Remus and Roman, as they both seemed to think that because Virgil eats it, it must be for babies.

Pancakes were always a favourite, and a good opportunity to sneak in a lot of fruit. He checked the fridge for ingredients and decided that some added protein with sausage on the side couldn't hurt.

"Shall we make your oatmeal first, little one? Or would you like to eat with your brothers?"

Virgil merely clicked along, not really processing the question at all. Logan squeezed him tenderly, deciding he'd be much more content with a small snack now and eating at the table with the rest of them.

"A snack it is, baby. What would you like?"

The little spider whirred slightly before wiggling his backend towards a wrapped tray. Logan sighed and tugged the wrap back slightly, no doubt Patton's cooking from last night. As predicted, twelve heart-shaped cookies with a crofters-filled center sat all neat in a row.

Without considering it, Logan grabbed a cookie and munched it down with two big bites. He then grabbed a second, half way in he realised that Virgil was watching him with rapt attention, and he really couldn't deny the baby a cookie now. It would be inhumane.

"Alright, Virgil, you can have a cookie. Shall we sit in your chair?"

The 'chair' was really a crate attached to a stand, pulled up to sit at the table with the rest of them. A traditional highchair is ineffective with Virgil, for obvious reasons, and so he was sat inside a wooden box with bars, though plenty of gaps for feeding and pats. Logan had first thought of it as strange, but over time he saw clearly that Virgil did not mind, and sometimes even asked to go in it. Plus, neither dad wanted the little one crawling around the kitchen unattended, amongst the hot and sharp equipment hanging around.

First, Logan began a coffee pot, then after a moment of thought also began boiling some of Janus' fancy tea in an extremely old kettle. Then, Logan began the oatmeal, using the large bag of oats in the pantry to scoop a cup out before measuring half water, half cream. Set it to simmer on a low heat, stir every ten or so seconds and add the dried bugs slowly.

Next was the pancakes, a simple enough venture, sifting the wholemeal flour and weighing his other ingredients out. It was a soothing task, though slightly lonely, as he was used to Janus' presence throughout.

"Daddy!" two little voices cheered, as he was busy spraying the frying pan down. Both his legs were tackled, and Logan stayed standing by pure luck.

"Hello, boys" he smiled, placing the pan down to ruffle both their hair. "Good morning. How did fighting the Dragon Witch go?"

Roman pouted at being told on, huffing slightly before trying to get revenge. "Remy gave us both coffee!"

"Oh did he?" Logan faked sternness as Remy walked in, completely unashamed and likely seeking his coffee. "I'll have to tell him off later for being so naughty."

"Oooohhhh Remy is in trouble~" Roman teased, skipping off to go taunt the teen. Remus stayed put, staring into Logan's soul from his pant leg.

"Are you alright, Remus?"

"Why's papa not here?"

Ah. He was hoping he'd have time to at least give Janus his tea before the twins figured out what was happening.

"Well, papa is still in bed right now. What toppings would you like on your pancakes?"

"Is papa okay?" Remus asked, all wide eyes and vulnerable. Logan's heart ached, so he knelt to press a kiss on his forehead before Remus leapt up for a hug. He squeezed the boy tight for a moment before responding.

"Papa is a little poorly, but he's very much alright. You can see him after breakfast, okay?"

Remus nodded silently, and Logan watched his expression try and deduce how he felt about that piece of information before leaning back eagerly.

"Can I have pickles and mayonnaise?"

Logan laughed softly, knowing that the boy had a very strange pallet. "Alright, but can you manage having some fruit on it too?"

"Okay. I'll have an orange, please."

"Such nice manners, Remus, I'll sit you here next to Roman."

He sat the little horror on his stool, between Roman and Virgil. Next to Roman sat an exhausted Remy nibbling on a cookie, with Roman eating his own cookie unabashedly - despite not usually being allowed treats before breakfast. Clearly Remy had passed him one.

"Are you assisting Roman in his mischief, Remy?"

Completely enthralled by his phone, Remy barely looked up as he chewed his biscuit and mumbled, "Kid doesn't need my help to be a little shit."

Logan scowled slightly with a sharp exhale, going by Remy's widened eyes he'd also sensed the error. Remus giggled softly, so Logan turned to his three youngest.

"Remy shouldn't have used that word, and I certainly won't allow any of you to be using it either, okay?"

Remus simply giggled mischievously, while Virgil didn't seem at all bothered. Roman sat up straighter and nodded, determined.

"It's okay, daddy, I already promised Remy that I won't say naughty words cause you'll whine about it!"

Remy choked on his coffee, thoroughly snitched on, smiling sheepishly at Logan.

"Uh…your tea is ready?"

Rather good timing for Remy as the tea was finished, so with a slight grumble he turned to set up the teapot and mug the way Janus preferred. He allowed the childish chit-chat to wash over him as he made the pancakes, chopping fruit and setting out the confectionery for the four of them to pick from.

After all was set up, and he'd filled two plastic cups with juice for the boys, he'd given them both a kiss on the head before scratching Virgil for a long moment. He asked Remy to watch over the three as he went to Janus, smiling as he went with the tea-pot and a variety of biscuits.

Up the stairs and back to his room, he gently pushed the door open to reveal his love still sleeping, though rather rosy. He idly wondered if it was the heat lamp causing the healthier complexion.

"Janus. Janus, dear, it's time to wake up."

The snake grumbled endearingly, tail moving around as the man stirred. Logan placed the tea tray on the side and patiently waited for his eyes to open.

Brown and yellow eyes peered up at him, so he leant down to peck his cheek lovingly.

"Good morning, Janus. I have some tea ready for you."

He fussed over the pillows for a moment, helping Janus sit up before handing the tray over. Janus took a long sip of tea before asking, "Where are the boys?"

"Downstairs having breakfast, I left Remy in charge. Though I suspect they'll want to see you soon."

"Good," Janus agreed easily. "I'd like to see them. Cuteness is the best cure."

"In that case, you should be better by the evening"

"Yeah, cause I got a cutie playing nurse-maid for me" he chuckled, holding Logan's hand in one of his less sweaty palms.

Logan blushed at being caught out like that, shaking his head in denial. "No, I meant the children being cute, dear. Not me."

"Well, you're very cute, dear, thank you for bringing my tea up."

Janus shifted slightly to allow Logan to perch on the bed, until an arm snaked around to pull the human close for a snuggle. Logan accepted it easily, though he couldn't resist trying to examine him for any more illness symptoms.

"Not the time to be feeling me up, dear"

Logan flushed once more and withdrew his hands, looking away. "I-Uh, no, I wasn't I was just-"

"Oh, hush, I know."

The two sat comfortably as Janus drank, before Logan spotted the scales of Janus' tail looking rather different - dull grey and flaking instead of the usual, gorgeous black shade.

"Your tail, it's-"

"It's the beginning of a shed, dear, that's all. That would've happened if I was sick or not. Please, try not to be so nervous, you'll transfer it to the kids."

"I know, I know," Logan whined into Janus' shoulder "I'm just nervous that somehow the illness will take a turn and leave you incredibly ill."

"Aww, please Logan, you're being silly"

"I know, but let me be illogical in my worries just for a moment." Logan pressed a kiss to his snake-side face, watching Janus smile fondly at the contact. It was quite endearing.

Instead of continuing the chatter, Janus focused on his tea, and tried to will his throat into being less rough. He mused about how he missed his boys, even if the extra time with his love was pleasant. Just as Logan had moved his empty tea tray, Janus heard a small commotion and smiled.

The door was pushed open with a blur of red and green. Janus spread his arms to accommodate, as two sets of small arms grabbed at him. Seconds later, little Virgil scaled the side of the bed, scuttling forward with a small whine until Janus pulled him close for a squeeze.

"Papa! You're okay." Remus cheered, his expression - and the way his arms and legs spawned eyeballs to stare at him - showing the underlying nervousness he had. Janus held them all a little tighter.

"I'm perfectly fine, you little horror. None of you need to worry, though I certainly appreciate the cuddles."

"Is it helping?" Roman asked, big doe eyes blinking up at him. Janus melted a little and played with the little prince's hair.

"Very much. Thank you."

///

The three children stayed rather still throughout the morning, seemingly intent on snuggling their papa back to health. Incredibly, it seemed to actually be working, the way Janus perked up and seemed much less lethargic - though he could've been masking the symptoms in front of them.

At quarter to twelve, Logan realised rather belatedly that he hadn't provided any snacks, too focused on a sick partner and adorable children. He patted Janus' tail gently, drawing his attention.

"I'm going to begin making lunch, is there anything you'd prefer?"

Janus swallowed, wincing despite himself

"Something that won't be rough on my throat, please"

Logan smiled at him with a nod, leaving quickly before the children could fuss at his absence. As he entered the kitchen, he saw Patton was already there, a basket full of root vegetables beside him as he washed each one carefully in the sink.

"Logan! Good morning."

"Good morning, Patton."

Before Logan could even figure out what he was planning to make, he noticed a large cooking pot on top of the aga. When he removed the lid to peer in, he was hit with a heavenly smell.

"Are you cooking soup, Patton?"

"Oh, yeah, I think it's technically a broth but it's a Janus favourite for when he's a little sickly snake. And I made enough for everyone, cause it's nice even if you don't feel icky, you know?"

Logan nodded along, replacing the lid to leave the simmering pot. "How did you know Janus was feeling unwell?"

"Well, he'd normally be up by now, helping in the garden and playing with the kids, so I knew something was off. I asked Remy a while ago and he confirmed that Janny wasn't feeling the best right now"

"Well, Patton, that's incredibly kind of you. Suppose I'll put some more tea on for him, would you like anything?"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm okay. I've got snacks and such outside."

Logan nodded at that, settling the kettle on the stove. "Well, I'll cover dinner later on, and hopefully Janus will feel better and able to join us."

"Sounds good!" Patton agreed with a thumbs up, petting some strange feathered creature that had crawled out his pocket. The creature made an odd growling noise before biting onto the green fingers, jaw locked like a ferret. Patton made no indication of being bothered by the treatment, simply cooing that the 'little guy must be hungry!' before rushing out the back door.

While he waited, Logan cleaned the rest of the vegetables for Patton, placing them back in the basket. Once the tea was finished, he tediously arranged the bowls of broth and tea pot on a much larger tray before returning upstairs.

In their shared bedroom, the sight was rather endearing, all four fast asleep on the bed together, though Roman looked rather sweaty under the heat lamp. Logan placed the tray down and for the second time today found himself completely enamored by his adorable sons.

"Please, continue to stare, my stomach isn't at all aching at that disgusting smell" Janus didn't even have his eyes open, seemingly content to bask in the affection.

"Oh, sorry, love. Here, you should eat up."

Janus gently shook the children awake as Logan brought the tray closer, smiling at the tender way Janus spoke, urging them all to sit up for some food.

"Roman, Remus, make sure you've got a pillow on your lap, the bowls are rather warm."

"Is the Tangled one mine?" Roman asked with an excited bounce, pulling a throw pillow onto his lap.

"It's the exact same broth in each, Roman, but you can have that bowl if you wish. Remus, are you okay with the Brave one?"

"Yeah yeah yeah! Does it have the big scary bear on it?"

"Oh, um" Logan checked the bowl with a hum of consideration. "It has three young bears on it?"

"That'll do!" Remus beamed, so Logan smiled and placed the bowl on his lap.

Lastly was Virgil, who had a small portion in a baby bowl. The little spider creeped close to Logan, settling on his thigh to be fed. While Logan began scooping up broth on a small plastic spoon, he leant over to grab Janus' portion.

"Try not to spill it, boys. Here you go, love, for you."

Janus accepted the food and smiled, examining the broth. "Patton made this, didn't he?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"He always carves little cats into the carrots." Janus smiled, rather fond. He tilted the bowl to show Logan, and yes, the carrot pieces had been cut to have little cat ears on them.

"That seems rather tedious, but I admit it's rather endearing."

"Well, if it makes someone smile when they see it, then it's worth the effort. At least, that's what Patton believes."

"Not an absurd philosophy, I suppose."

"Well, I think that tonight, once the kids are asleep we should have a…philosophical debate."

Logan pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling. "You're still unwell, focus on recovering first. Speaking of, how are you feeling? In truth."

Janus blinked, before glancing around to gesture at the scene. Enjoying a meal and a rest with his family.

"In truth, my love, I am feeling so much better."

"That is extremely promising, dear. I'll start you a bath for afterwards, and add some lavender."

"Careful, dear, if you continue to pamper me I'll decide to stay sick forever."

Logan sent him a warm smile at the teasing, making his way to the bathroom.

"And I'd continue to pamper you, my love."

Well, Janus couldn't argue with that, sinking into his pillows to hide the blush. Thankfully the children didn't seem to be paying much attention to the adults.

"I love you too," Janus mumbled once Logan had left.

"Wait, Remus, tell me you haven't just swallowed your spoon -"

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part seven)

Part one. Masterlist!

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(Next week)

A week had passed by in a rather slow pace. Yuri's recovery seemed to never end when it had just been a few days. But those days were spent sleeping and eating, using his phone and sleeping some more. Mostly he had no one to talk to since everyone were busy with their own lives. Especially (Y/n) who had to keep her inner performer alive at all times. Her coach came with the idea of hosting a smaller gig where (Y/n) would perform about two or three numbers for the people of Japan. It was planned out as a small nightclub gig at first but the numbers of interested in Japan rose over the charts and well... (Y/n) said that she didn't want to let anyone down. Though her coach was apparently hesitant into taking more than a hundred people. 'Three numbers are too little for a concert.' They said but the people of Japan insisted on paying for the price a concert ticket anyway.

(Y/n) had told him this two days after his fever started. He remembered it made him scoff at how she decided the ticket would only cost a quarter of what a normal concert ticket would then. He had told her it was a ridiculous way of thinking.

He barely saw her after the first day of his fever. The way Yuri had taken a hold of her hand and fallen asleep... She waited until he woke up. Well, not exactly waited. She fell asleep at the edge of his bed.

And since that, the two of you barely talked during the days. They barely even met before she went to bed because she spent every waking hour to practice her numbers with her backup dancers. She still made you breakfast when she head the time though.

Yuri's glad it would soon be over and he could go back to normal. Everyone had been attending to him like he was some child and he felt like a huge burden. He had told Victor that he wished (Y/n) especially wouldn't just dismiss his attempts at doing things on his own just because he couldn't get out of bed with single effort. 'Right, she told me about that! You fell on your face right after while trying, didn't you?' He had replied.

So... yeah... Yuri wanted things to return to normal real fast. Yakov had promised him that he would get to start his session with (Y/n) as soon as the music for the program was set. And that was what Victor had been helping him with a couple times. It was hard to find something he wanted to use. Everything felt overused and boring. Just another performance. Yuri didn't want it to pass as that. He wanted to stand out and earn his gold medal for real just as last year. Now was also really the year of improvement so the music had to be well thought through. He was certainly going to take advantage of having a coach for emotional performances with him this season as well. Meaning, his free skate program was already set to be something hurtful and strong. Not love, he already did that. Something far more serious. He wanted the audience to cry after his performance. Everyone should be bawling. Yakov, piglet, Victor and even (Y/n).

Most important of all, no one would be expecting him to do a program with such deep meaning. Because he was one to avoid it in the past.

His short program should be something upbeat and flashy. He wanted the choreography so intense that he'd be coughing up blood at the end of the performance, if that was possible. So the music had to make the pulse of the audience rise when hearing it. Meaning, the music would be in the rock genre. And he already had just the song for it.

This performance would show off his skills and flexibility as well as the importance of his stamina since the entire program would be non-stop step sequences and jumps throughout almost the entire music. Since he intended to be in better shape than ever before before the competition started, he felt no point in holding back on anything. If he played it safe, then what was the point?

"Ah! Good morning Yuri! I come bearing gifts!" Victor busted the door open with his foot and stumbled inside the room, balancing a tray in his hand. The tray was set down in front of him and Victor sat down at the end of Yuri's bed.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Yuri was truly surprised to see Victor being the one to bring you the breakfast today. It had been her until now. And he hadn't even seen as much as her face today since she left so early.

"Ouch. I'm replaced already? I can't go on knowing I'm not your favorite anymore, you know." Victor put a dramatic hand to his forehead and fell backwards onto Yuri's legs. The tray with the breakfast threatened to tumble and Yuri made an effort to stabilize it. It was bacon and eggs with apple slices. A part of him felt a little sad that the slices weren't in the shape of stars...

"You were never my favorite, old man. And you didn't answer my question." Yuri picked up the fork and pointed it towards the man slopped unto the bed end. He ignored the sad pout he received and took a bite of the apple cut into pieces. Each slice were to large and it didn't even taste the same even though they were of the same apples like yesterday. The eggs were decent and the bacon slightly undercooked. Victor's efforts to cook for the household during the day were appreciated of course. But there was no wonder why (Y/n) stood for the head of the dinner at days when her schedule wasn't as crazy.

"She's practicing like mad. Called her dancers to say that she would be starting a few hours ahead of time because she got an energy boost. She wants the show to be at her best efforts possible."

"I haven't even seen her today. How can she practice like a maniac when she's probably already learned her numbers flawlessly?"

Victor was watching Yuri with a funny look. Probably wondering where all those questions came from.

"I think the show is a way for her to relax."

Say what? Going out of bed before sunrise and coming back from practice just mere hours before midnight could never be considered relaxation. Yuri would never be able to pull that off. That was an insane view of the word relaxing, definitely.

"The steam and demands from her competition in We are voice are currently lifted off her shoulders like heavy weights, you know. This is probably just fun to her. She doesn't have to compete with anyone. I think it gives her a sense of relief."

Yuri stopped eating and thought a little extra on what Victor said.

Yes. She was always stressed in every video where a fan or a nosy reporter came out of nowhere and started recording. Yuri had seen those videos. Especially the one where the random person happened to record the exact moment her mind broke down and she had a breakdown in front of a large crowd. Now there was no denying that Yuri sees (Y/n) as the most weirdest and ridiculous being alive. The way she is so determined to get her way and how much she cares for strangers she's never met. Yuri kind of still consider the two of them to be strangers, even after two weeks being with each other on a daily basis. Her eyes are also too intense for anyone to be up close with to her face and as if that wasn't enough, she's also a morning person and that's already a big warning sign to stay away from a person.

But even though he had had this mental conversation with him many times. Even though he agreed that he disliked her; he couldn't help but being captivated by her performances.

It felt so weird seeing her cry like that just minutes before her performance and then watching her going on stage having the time of her life. There was no doubt she loved her fans and performing on stage but that was one of those moments where Yuri really got to see the mind behind the happy smile. It was the first time he had seen her crying or feeling a negative emotion. It's still the first but he got a taste of her irritated self not so long ago.

It made Yuri think about her performance that day. It was a remarkable song filled with sheerness and excitement and her eyes were still wet with tears as she got up on stage.

"Remember (Y/n) performing 'Animal' during the acappella collaboration sequence?"

"Yes! One of my favorites. She was so happy on stage that day." While it had been true that she found happiness, it's not to ignore how broken she felt right before. 'Animal' by Neon Trees (A/N: listen to the Glee version of the song for the best acapella dynamic!) Was one of (Y/n)'s best performances, according to Yuri. He had watched it on repeat just this morning. There's really nothing special to the song in itself. It was the way she delivered every word and tune with such bravery after her internal battle like that. Her emotional response has always been on point but this particular song was something completely real and touching with her tears glistening in the corner of her eyes the entire performance. The tears of sadness had been replaced with joy and she had genuinely just been having a great time with the acapella group at her side, cheering and jumping around on stage with stars in her eyes.

'Oh, oh

I want some more

Oh, oh

What are you waiting for?

Say goodbye to my heart tonight'

The chorus were always his favorite part. Maybe it was the interpretation of the love-hate relationship the words of the lyrics intended. (Y/n) was belting out 'what are you waiting for' with such passion even though it was hardly a difficult song to perform.

'Here we are again

I feel the chemicals kickin' in

It's gettin' heavier and

I wanna run and hide

I wanna run and hide'

The short verse got him every time. The way her eyes watered at the end and then were immediately blown away by the chorus once again. The way she let go of her sadness and let her happy thoughts consume her. No, she let the song consume her and gave the song a completely different touch never done before.

Yuri had lost count of the time he'd watched it and he knew the choreography and song in and out by now. It was mainly intended for the purpose of studying her expression and getting some kind of inspiration for his music choice. He wanted his theme of his music choice for the free skate program to be 'to let go'. If there's any theme harder than love, then it's letting go of the thing you love. And not just what you love. Letting go to be able to love as well. Whether it's love for yourself or another person. There are countless interpretations and that's what (Y/n) had performed that day, with no intention whatever of doing it in such a way.

"I have... I have chosen the music for my program. At the inspiration of t-that performance."

Now don't get Yuri wrong. He'd never admit it to anyone that (Y/n) had been an inspiration to his free skate. He would probably had figured out the idea anyway, it would just had taken a little longer. And her performance was his own way to interpret it so he'd been the one to come up with the decision anyway. So in a way, she didn't have anything to do with it. And his choice of song would be far more intense and heartbreaking than anything Neon Trees could produce. And so Yuri told Victor about his music choices even though he had no clue why he put that kind of trust into the man.

"Those are some really clever choices when combined with your own vision. I'm almost a little jealous. Maybe I should just hire (Y/n) as my coach myself. It seems like it did wonders for you already!" The man laughed and patted Yuri on the shoulder.

"Nonsense. She hasn't began coaching me yet. She had no part in this." Yuri pushed away the empty tray to make room for sitting up and crossing his legs.

"Oh, but it seems like you learned a lot by ogling her all day long though." The smirk Yuri received made his teeth grit and his ears flush.

"I-i wasn't ogling her!"

"Then what were you doing exactly? I heard 'Animal' playing for a good 30 minutes from the wall connected to the room beside yours." Victor laughed at the startled freeze of The Russian Punk.

Okay fine. Maybe he went overboard with the video. But a new problem had seemed to appear now as he admitted defeat.

Yuri now had a witness that would have to be taken care of somehow. He leaned forwards and gripped the collar of Victor's shirt in a tight fist. The glare of daggers shot forwards onto the smiling man.

"Tell anyone about it and you're gonna have to reconstruct that pretty nose of yours. That's a promise,not a threat."

"Trust me! You won't hear a peep!"

[thefantasygirl3]

Negaverse stories: Ripples on the surface

Genre/warnings: Drama, angst, Hurt/Comfort, body insecurity, nightmares, truama.

Word count: 3 135

Summary: Bushroot wakes up during the night to the sound of something moving outside his room. He goes to investigate and when he finds Liquidator's room empty, he realizes that he's probably had another one of his nightmares. He goes to find the dog crying on the roof and attempts to comfort him as best he can.

Notes: Guess who just got an AO3 account! Currently empty but oh well. Also sorry for the gap, but I guess that's just how life be some times. Anyways, enjoy! Link to my fanfiction.net and Last story.

It was about 5 pm, darkness covering the city right before the hours of the sunrise. It was pretty early for anyone to be awake. Yet someone was. Bushroot felt himself slowly being pulled out of his rest by some noise coming from the room besides his. Stirring lightly, his eyes fluttered open and he let out a small groan. "Nng… what was…?" He muttered tiredly as he rubbed his eyes with his leafy hands and sat up in bed. He turned his head towards the door, listening closely to see if he could tell what had woken him up.

The sound was very faint, but he could definitely hear movement from somewhere outside his room, followed by the sound of something sliding open. Bushroot figured that maybe Gosalyn woke up from a bad dream or something. That made him worried enough to get out of bed to check on her.

He quietly opened the door to her room and peeked in. But the little duckling was sound asleep and snuggled up in bed. The father let out a sigh of relief and gently closed the door again. He still could have sworn he heard something, he definitely wasn't imagining that. Which meant it was probably…

Bushroot walked straight to the door besides his and opened it. The room was empty, the waterproofed bed in a mess and the window beside it open, with a small trail of water leading up to it. He let out yet another sigh, this time not from relief, but concern. He turned and headed over towards the stairs while whispering "This again… poor Bud" to himself. He continued through the living room and slid open the back door while still feeling a tiny ball of worry vibrating in his chest. That only amplified when he could hear the slightly distant sounds of sobbing coming from above him.

The plant man took a few steps backwards and looked up towards the roof. He finally saw Liquidator sitting on the roof with his face in his lap crying, his back facing the backyard. Bushroot grimaced sadly at the depressing sight. He was used to it but it still made his heart ache whenever it happened. It just made him want to do anything he could to make him feel better. It was so frustrating that Bud would go and hide away whenever he'd have a breakdown like that. He just wished he'd feel comfortable enough to come to his friends about it.

But that didn't matter. Bushroot had to go and check on him. He walked over to the plot of flowers beside the house and gently tapped one of the sleeping flowers. "Excuse me, sweetie. Could you give me a boost, please?" He whispered calmly while pointing up towards the rooftop. The little flower let out a tired yawn and gave a small nod before starting to extend upwards, with Bushroot hanging onto them. He then climbed up onto the roof with a quiet "Thank you" before it sank back down to go back to sleep.

He carefully moved along the roof to where Liquidator was, still not being noticed by him. The plant duck approached him slowly. He didn't really want to scare him, so he figured he should say something to get his attention. "Hey. Bud" he spoke softly, waiting for him to turn around. The crying dog stiffened up slightly and turned his head to look at his friend, crouching behind him. He frowned and quickly reached up to clear his tears away before he made Bushroot too worried.

"H-hey Reginald…" he stuttered while continuing to wipe away the salty liquids out of his non salty liquids. The other man just smiled lightly and looked down at the spot beside him.

"This spot taken?" He asked as he moved a bit closer so he could sit down.

"You know the answer to that" Liquidator simply muttered as he pulled his knees back up to his chest.

Bushroot got comfortable beside him and gave him a look of concern.

"Another nightmare, huh?" He asked with a kind tone, reaching out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. But the water man just pulled back slightly from the touch, saying "not exactly."

He decided to respect his personal space and pulled his hand back. "Hm? Then do you want to talk about it?" He asked curiously, leaning back on the roof.

"Actually… yeah. I just can't understand what that dream was supposed

to mean and I'm so confused. It's making me feel… helpless" bud explained as he looked down at the street in front of their house, tears already starting to shed. But judging by his expression, he wasn't aware of it quite yet. So the plant decided to not acknowledge it and continue the conversation.

"Well… I have been called smart before, so maybe I can help decipher it" he decided to add in a bit of humor to maybe lighten the mood a bit, just so it wasn't completely bleak. Liquidator smiled, but only slightly, at the attempt his friend made to cheer him up. It didn't help his crying, but it made him more comfortable to talk about it. He thought it was best to skip right to it and not waste any time.

"Ok… so nothing relevant happened until later into the dream. I was in a building with a big hole in the ground. The hole was full of water and I approached it to look at it. My reflection wasn't me now, but me before… before… my mutation. I fell into the water after that and, when I emerged again and pulled myself up, I had turned into my old self. I was shocked, completely stunned. I just couldn't believe it. I was myself again! I was normal! A regular ol' dog! I couldn't even move or speak, I just felt this… this pure, hot burst of joy in my body! I just kept touching my face, my chest, my arms and my legs. It was so wonderful" at the last sentence, he let out a quiet sigh. Bushroot was happy, hearing him describe the joy he felt in his dream. But he was a little worried at the sigh he let out. It wasn't an amused or dreamy sigh, but one of disappointment.

"Anything else?" He asked and pulled his knees up to his chest, leaning against them.

"Yes. There is. After I left the room, I was immediately confronted by my old boss. He just started yelling at me about skipping out on work and leaving the office a mess. To be fair, it was REALLY dirty. Like, covered top to bottom in some orange slime. But he kept chewing me out while shoving cleaning supplies into my arms. So, I started cleaning. It took so long, was so gross and it smelled so bad. But finally I finished and went home. But the house… it wasn't my house. There was a "for sale" sign in front of it and looked like no one had lived there for years. It made me really scared that something had happened to all of you. So I went running through town, trying to find you guys. I was running for a while before I found you all. But… but… you…" Liquidator's voice trailed off as he started to shiver and curl up into a small sobbing ball of water. The other man felt his worry spread like a fire in his chest and he moved over to him, trying both to comfort him and respect his personal space at the same time, ending up just hovering his hands around him.

"Sorry… sorry" he sniffed and sat up again, no longer trying to hide his crying face from his dear friend. He also leaned in towards Bushroot, showing that he was ok with being hugged. The plant duck accepted the invitation immediately and wrapped his arms around him a couple of times, just to make sure he gave him the utmost care and comfort.

"No. Don't apologize. It's ok if you don't want to continue. But if you do, you can take all the time you need. Just breathe and let it all out" he murmured gently while patting his head, trying everything he could to make his friend and co-parent feel better.

"Th-thank you, r-re-reggie!" He sniffled quietly and tried his very best to calm down and relax in the other's vines. He took a few deep breaths before he felt like he could continue again.

"You guys… you didn't remember me. You didn't even know me! You were all confused and asking me if I needed help or if I was causing trouble. You even seemed to think I was crazy at one point. Then when I asked about Gosalyn, you had no idea what I was talking about. That's when my entire reality broke. Because I never got pushed into that water tank… I never met any of you… I never helped stop Negaduck and we… We never became a family. That realization made the whole dream spiral out of control until I woke up" he managed to get his emotions

under control and finish his story, leaning more into the other hero while trying to keep his breath stable.

Bushroot looked down at him, finally understanding what the issue was and why it had upset him so much. Yeah, the situation itself was upsetting enough. But the fact that something that was supposed to be happy was ruined by something like that was awful. He unwrapped Liquidator, but kept an arm around his shoulders still as he didn't want to let him go just yet.

"That… sounds horrible. I can't imagine what that would feel like" he sighed and looked over at him, giving him a sympathetic gaze.

The water man just sniffed and rubbed his eyes, still laying against the other while avoiding making any eye contact.

"I… I don't know what to do. The one thing I've wanted all my life, just being able to turn back the clock and get my body back, would be the same as wishing I never got a family. I've basically been saying that I want all of you to disappear!" He whimpered and shrank together again, squeezing his eyes shut and balling up his fists angrily.

"H-hey! That's not true! You know that's not even remotely accurate!" Bushroot suddenly spoke up and put his leaves on the dog's shoulders.

"Listen. I know this all seems like some sort of ultimatum, like you have to pick between family and your body. But you're wrong! I-I understand that y-" before he could finish his explanation, Liquidator let out an angry growl and shoved him back, almost making him lose balance and slide down the roof.

"Wrong?! Oh, so you know the answer to this great mystery of myself?! Don't act like you understand me better than I do! You don't! You don't understand this struggle at all! You don't know what it's like to be a disgusting, horrifying, absolute freak of nature that shouldn't even exist!!" He yelled at Bushroot as soon as he had managed to regain his balance, tears flying in all directions while he started to bubble up from the frustration of being told he doesn't understand his own emotions. But Bushroot didn't say anything in response. He couldn't do anything aside from stare at him in stunned shock. After a few seconds, he lowered his head in shame and hurt, rubbing his arm while doing what the other man had done and avoided looking him in the eyes.

Liquidator stared at him for just a quick moment before the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, the implications of what he had just told his mutant teammate. He covered his mouth and stuttered in panic before he managed to form words.

"R-R-R-REGINALD!!! I-I DIDN'T MEAN- I WASN'T TRYING TO- I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT I PROMISE!!!" He rambled and stumbled over his words, moving to put an apologetic hand on the other's leg. He was practically begging for forgiveness already with every word and action, looking like a sad puppy.

Bushroot didn't feel offended by the jab. Hurt, yes. But he knew it wasn't meant to be personal. He would have said that to anyone, it was just very bad timing that it was aimed at the only other mutant he knew. Besides, he kind of deserved it after so carelessly making such a bold statement.

"It's fine, Bud. I know you didn't. It's not like you to say things like that. But… you're not completely wrong… yet it's far from true" he said with a soft, somber voice. The dog was still looking at him with remorseful eyes and fiddled nervously with his fingers while holding them close to his chest.

"Listen. Our circumstances were completely different. My mutation was 100% my fault. I conducted the experiment, I made the machine, I decided that I was the only fitting test subject. It was all my fault. But that just means that I was prepared for the consequences. Well… ok, maybe not completely. But I was expecting I'd die, so being mutated wasn't as bad, in my opinion. Sure, it hurts knowing I can't enjoy simple things like… campfires. And I'm very sad about losing my greenhouse, probably the most heartbreaking part of that event. But I'm a scientist. I've experienced lots of weird things! But… for you it's different" he began speaking while reaching out

to take his hands into his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah… I guess you're right. I just wanted to help, but everyone thought I was a monster because of it…" the sad hero calmed down a bit once he got the confirmation that Bushroot wasn't hurt by his insensitive comment.

"Right. You were hurt, betrayed, sacrificed and abused. It's about a lot more than JUST the mutation. It's the biggest part, but everything surrounding it didn't help. You were just a janitor who deserved better" the duck calmly explained while rubbing his hand for further comfort.

"Of course I can't understand everything. I'm sorry for claiming that I did, or that you were wrong in what you felt. But I just need you to understand that you are not being selfish for wanting your body back. You're not prioritizing your wants over us. It's all ok" he then continued and gave Liquidator a big smile, trying to assure him that it was fine, that no one else thinks he's being selfish.

"But… but if I… if I become myself again… my old self… I wouldn't be able to be a hero anymore. All my useful powers will be gone. I'm giving up on saving people just so I can have skin!" He then whined and turned his head away, pulling his hands out of the other's grip shamefully. He looked so guilty, as if he was a criminal himself by acknowledging his own desires. But Bushroot wouldn't have it! He reached back out and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for yet another hug.

"Nonsense! Having powers doesn't make you a hero! Quackerjack doesn't have powers. But he's incredible at making useful toys! Having powers helps a lot, but being able to use the talents you have for good is what makes you a hero. And even IF you wouldn't be able to continue being a hero, which you definitely would, that's ok. We still love you and would never ever ever abandon you. Gosalyn needs you, Megavolt needs you, Quackerjack needs you, and yes, I need you. It wouldn't be the same without you… no matter what you're made of" he explained while tightening the hug around his friend, an unreasonable worry of losing Bud if he let go taking over his body. He wanted to cry, he wanted to beg for him to not leave. He just wanted to do anything to assure that Bud would never disappear from him. But he had to keep it together. He had to be the rock that the poor poor man in his arms always had to be.

Finally, he realized that he was also being hugged. Not only that, now HE was the one to be held and pat on the back. But he also heard gentle sobbing coming from the one holding him.

"That… means so much to hear from you, Reginald. I know I should already know all of this, but when I lose my composure like this, it's so comforting to know that you'll be there to remind me. Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you all too" Liquidator said in a clearly happy tone, despite the sobbing. It made that ball of worry and hurt in his chest fade away and he could allow himself a few shed tears. The two just sat there on the roof and let the tears of joy and pain run down their faces as the sun was slowly starting to rise.

They turned to look at it, smiling at one another, Bushroot saying a quiet "Shall we?" Liquidator laughed at his offer, but gave him a nod before the both of them laid down on the roof and watched the sunrise.

It was nice, calm, comforting. It was hard to understand exactly what Bud was thinking at all times. Even impossible. All he really could do was try his best to understand and be there for him. And in turn, Bud was there for him.

Yes, even the "best father in the world" had his low points. Which was fine. He really didn't mind reaching out in those times for a hand to rub his back and tell him it's ok. It really just made life so much easier to deal with when he had someone to listen to him and someone to care for.

Looking over at Bud, he could tell that he was already feeling better after getting to vent out his anxiety and fears. It didn't solve the issue, nothing would. It would always be there, till their last days. But dealing with it and working on it

together made it a lot easier to live with. Which was all Bushroot wanted to do, help his life get a little bit easier, day by day.

He smiled and nudged his buddy lightly, gaining his attention. He looked over with a curious look. When all he got in response was a slight jerk of the duck's beak, he just huffed amused and gave him a smile back, soon returning his gaze to the glowing orange ball. They both wanted to admire it before it would start to burn their eyes up.

[hermannsthumb]

I love your writing so so much!! Prompt: middle-aged husbands! Newt gets back from a work trip with some salt and pepper scruff he didn't have time to shave and Hermann goes a little weak in the knees

oh ho ho....also everything im writing this month and next must necessarily be set a snowy setting sry. as always thank u to k-sci-janitor for bouncing ideas w me over discord mild sexy stuff below cut!

--------

When Newton stumbles through the front door in a flurry of snow and clatter of suitcases two weeks after he left for a research trip, Hermann notices two things; the first, that the cliche about absence making the heart grow fonder really is true, the second, that Newton’s cheeks (when Hermann rushes to meet him in a rather embarrassingly fast fashion and allows himself to be scooped up into Newton’s arms, of all things) are distinctly...rougher than usual. Rougher, and pricklier. “How’s the hottest scientist in the world?” Newton says, after an entirely inappropriate amount of kissing. The neighbors could see, for goodness’ sake. “God, dude, I missed you so fucking much.”

“Close the door,” Hermann laughs. “You’re letting all the heat out, and the bloody snow in.”

But Newton merely kisses him again and again, cornering him against the wall and settling his hands low on Hermann’s hips. His cheeks scratch Hermann’s skin; Hermann shivers, not knowing whether from it or the chill of the air. “How much did you miss me?” Newton murmurs.

“Not enough to put on a show for the neighbors,” Hermann chides, though he shivers again when Newton nuzzles against him. He taps the end of his cane against the sodden laces of Newton’s boots. “Mm, ah, come on, I’ve lit a fire, and, and made us tea, take your—wet things off, and—”

Newton steps back with a grin. “You gonna warm me up, Hermann?”

“With a fire and tea,” Hermann says. He shuts the door before more snow can drift in to melt on the hardwood. “Er. For now, anyway. And do hang your jacket this time.”

Newton stumbles out of his winter things in record time, and then stumbles after Hermann the moment they’re tossed haphazardly onto the coat rack. “It’s so…neat in here,” he says, marveling as they pass through the tidy kitchen to get to the equally tidy sitting room, where the fireplace blazes away. “Did you do anything besides clean while I was gone?”

The truth of the matter is that Hermann (lost to mathematical abstraction, and lacking a partner to snap him out of it) let his clutter—half-finished tea, discarded notebook pages, broken pencils and chalk—pile up on every available surface throughout the two weeks of Newton’s absence, and only remembered the previous evening that this was not the usual state of their flat and he ought to see to it very quickly before Newton arrived home. He hopes Newton doesn’t take a peek inside their study any time soon. “Er, something like that,” Hermann says. “Clean, and miss you horrendously. How was the trip?”

“Long,” Newton says. He sits on the couch and drags Hermann down with him. There’s something different in his face Hermann can’t quite put his finger on—he’s changed somehow, Hermann is sure of it, but the question is how? Has he resorted to his spare pair of glasses? No—these are the ones he usually wears; Hermann can see the miniscule crack at the bottom of the left lens, sustained after a particularly energic round of lovemaking in which Hermann rolled right over on top of them. Not that any of that is at all relevant, of course. “Lonely. Fascinating, though, I wish you’d come with me.”

Newton was excited about his trip for weeks. Even the extinction of his object of study couldn’t make him any less one of the top k-biologists, and he was brought in to oversee the salvaging of some of the very last kaiju remains in existence—preserved all these years since the closure of the Breach by the ice of Alaska. Newton sent picture after picture of it, the snow, him bumbling around in the snow in Hermann’s borrowed winter parka, the team he led bundled up in parkas of their own. Hermann knows he ought to ask about it and ask how the salvage efforts went; he knows he ought to ask about the cold, and the snow, and whether or not the other remaining k-scientists were anyone they’d worked with before. Instead, he can’t seem to stop squinting at Newton. “Have you cut your hair?” Hermann says. “Or styled it differently, perhaps? Only there’s something so different about you, I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Different?” Newton says, frowning. “What do you—?" Then he laughs. “Oh! Yeah, I was wayyyy too busy to shave. You’re looking at, like, about as close as I ever get to a full-on beard.” He drags his hand over his jaw, and it rasps audibly. Of course—how did Hermann not realize that from Newton’s scratchy kisses? His stubble, usually so carefully maintained (even in the midst of the war), is overgrown enough to verge on thick, and for the first time Hermann notices the decent smattering of grey across it. It’s—well—it’s hardly a bad look on him. Rather, Hermann might say it’s the opposite. It makes him look older, a bit more…er, distinguished. “You like it?”

Hermann remembers the marvelous way it scratched across his skin. “Hmm,” he says.

Newton laughs again, and tugs at the front of Hermann’s sweater. “C’mon, take this off already. It’s been two weeks, dude.”

Hermann can’t argue with that logic.

Later, in bed, as Newton—having volunteered selflessly for the duty of big spoon—snores away happily at Hermann’s back, Hermann considers recent developments. He’s never been dissatisfied with Newton’s appearance before; he’s never looked at his husband and thought oh, I wish his hair was a bit different, or I could do without those glasses. Certainly never I want him to have a big, magnificent face of grey stubble that tickles my neck and my chest and my thighs and… Hermann presses his face into his pillow and groans in mortification. Oh, but God, it is an improvement. It’s an improvement Hermann never knew Newton needed. Not that he did need it—it’s just—Oh.

Newton mumbles something in his sleep and rolls away from Hermann. His stubble catches and drags on the back of Hermann’s neck, and Hermann stifles a moan into the pillow this time. Newton intends to shave it off, Hermann knows. Hermann watched him unpack his suitcase in the bedroom, watched him carefully tuck his shaving kit back into the medicine cabinet with a laugh and a reassurance of that very fact (take a picture while you can, it’s coming off tomorrow), all while he felt the tingle of irritated skin between his thighs that Newton had left behind on the couch. He snuck a glimpse at it when he changed into pyjamas—a faded red that matches that on his neck.

To explain to Newton why it is imperative he not proceed with his planned shave would be far too mortifying an experience for Hermann to undergo. And Newton would certainly never let him hear the end of it. No; it would be better to take matters into his own hands. Hermann swings two socked feet to the floor and reaches for his cane as quietly as he can manage.

Newton’s back-up disposable razors are snapped in two and buried in the bottom of the trashcan, beneath two weeks’ worth of dental floss and paper Dixie cups. His nice shaving kit proves a bit more of a challenge, not in the least because Hermann bought it for him as a birthday gift not long ago, and the thought of intentionally damaging it makes him cringe. He settles on simply stealing all the razor attachments and hiding them at the bottom of the spare hand towel basket. Hopefully, by the time they turn up, Newton will have long-since decided to grow out his stubble even further.

Newton stirs very lightly when Hermann tucks himself back beneath the bedspread and Newton’s arm. “’S the matter?” he mumbles.

“Had to use the loo,” Hermann whispers back.

“Mm,” Newton says, and presses his lips Hermann’s shoulder once before his breathing slowly evens out.

Hermann lazes in bed late the next morning. Late for them, anyway; pseudo-retirement hasn’t managed to knock a decade of strict routine out of him and Newton yet, and they still wake and dress before the sunrise like the war never ended. However, a soft, warm, and jetlagged Newton in his arms is hard to pull himself away from, especially with nothing but a foot of snow outside to look forward to, so he lets himself drift happily in and out of dreams for a good hour or so. Until Newton’s cell phone alarm startles them both up, that is. “Ugh,” Newton groans, smacking around on the bedside table for it. “Stupid thing. Where—”

He left it on Hermann’s bedside table. Hermann switches it off.

“Thanks, dude,” Newton says. He yawns. “Got a meeting this afternoon about the, uh, samples. Never get a break.”

Hermann hears him walk to the bathroom. He hears him open the medicine cabinet. He hears the zip of his shaving kit bag. “Uh,” Newton says. He pokes his head into the bedroom. “Hermann, do you know what happened to my razor?”

Hermann sits up and feigns a frown. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Like, all the parts are gone,” Newton says. He rifles through the kit again, as if to be sure, and shakes his head. “Yeah. They’re all gone. Shit, did I leave them at the base?”

“Oh, no,” Hermann says. “Your nice razor? The one I got you?”

Newton ducks back into the bathroom; Hermann hears him rattle around in the medicine cabinet again. “All my razors are missing. What the hell? I have a meeting in a few hours, I can’t show up looking like—” There’s a loud clatter, as if Newton knocked all their medication bottles over into the sink, and he swears. “Oh, well that’s fucking peachy.” He slams the cabinet door shut.

“Newton, come back to bed,” Hermann calls. He and Newton have limited time before they’re meant to start their responsibilities for the day, and he would like very much to enjoy that time to the fullest. “You’re making a mess of things. I’m sure you’ve just misplaced your razor—perhaps it’s in your suitcase.” When Newton doesn’t immediately bend to his command, Hermann rolls his eyes and lowers his voice. “Newton, darling,” he says, though this time in more of a purr. “Come back to bed.”

Newton is back and on Hermann in a flash. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he says between kisses. His fingers creep up Hermann’s pajama shirt and graze over Hermann’s ribs before tugging the shirt off entirely. “Hermann, I missed having sex with you so bad. You have no idea. Ugh.” He grinds his prick, already hard, into Hermann’s clothed thigh, and nips at his ear. “I kept thinking about your stupid sexy face, and your stupid sexy dick, and your stupid hair—” He burrows himself into the crook of Hermann’s newly bared neck and shoulder and kisses his collarbone, and Hermann moans at the scratchy sensation of his stubble shadow before he can help himself.

“Newton,” he gasps, “oh, bugger—”

“Ha, yeah, you like when I talk about your sexy dick, babe?” Newton says. “It’s so awesome and sexy, I can’t wait to—"

“Not that,” Hermann says. “Kiss me there again.” Newton obliges; Hermann whimpers and shivers, and (before he can help himself) confesses aloud “Oh, that damn beard of yours… I want it all over me…”

Newton pulls away with a frown. “You do?” he says. “Wait. Hermann—did you do something to my razor?”

“No,” Hermann lies. He wiggles around in a desperate attempt to get Newton’s stubble back on his skin, but Newton only pulls back further. He sighs. “Er. Perhaps. They’re just hidden, is all.”

Newton’s frown flicks up into a grin, and he laughs. “Dude, you could’ve just told me. You’re so dumb. So you like when I do this, then?” He dips back down to kisses a trail along Hermann’s sternum, making sure to graze his cheeks over his skin at every inch. “Or this?” He ducks beneath the covers and nuzzles at Hermann’s abdomen.

“Yes,” Hermann moans to the Newton-shaped lump under the blanket. Newton’s fingers work open his drawstring and slowly inch his pajama trousers down. “Yes, Newton, ah—”

“Or—”

Suffice to say, Newton keeps the beard.

[penisman420-69]

A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—

"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."

"Oh," Dream says.

"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"

Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.

"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."

"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."

George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.

"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."

GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.

"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.

"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.

"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.

The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.

So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.

"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.

"Alright, seeya."

After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.

He sighs and wishes for rain.

He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.

A text from George.

I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.

"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.

He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.

Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.

Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.

Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.

He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.

He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.

A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—

"Dream?"

He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—

"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.

He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"

"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.

"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.

Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.

He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?

"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"

Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."

"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."

Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."

George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"

Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.

"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.

George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.

The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.

Beautiful.

He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.

"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?

Was it you?

In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.

"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."

"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"

Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.

"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.

Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."

George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."

Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.

The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.

George grins. "I told you it's pretty."

"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.

George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.

Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.

The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.

"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.

"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.

Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.

Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.

Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.

I have heatwaves saved on my computer it doesn't phase me anymore I've read this several times you can't hurt me with this

[rikuphobic]

A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—

"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."

"Oh," Dream says.

"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"

Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.

"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."

"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."

George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.

"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."

GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.

"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.

"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.

"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.

The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.

So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.

"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.

"Alright, seeya."

After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.

He sighs and wishes for rain.

He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.

A text from George.

I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.

"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.

He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.

Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.

Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.

Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.

He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.

He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.

A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—

"Dream?"

He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—

"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.

He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"

"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.

"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.

Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.

He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?

"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"

Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."

"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."

Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."

George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"

Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.

"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.

George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.

The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.

Beautiful.

He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.

"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?

Was it you?

In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.

"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."

"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"

Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.

"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.

Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."

George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."

Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.

The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.

George grins. "I told you it's pretty."

"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.

George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.

Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.

The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.

"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.

"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.

Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.

Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.

Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.

oop there’s the entire first chapter of heatwaves

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Part two to this request (—here—)

“Can you write a story where the reader had a one night stand with Merle and got pregnant at the Atlanta camp, she didn't tell anyone because even though Merle wasn't a dick when it came to her, she was scared of the others' reactions. When you're at the farm with the group Shane notices your stomach showing and he calls you out on your secret. Daryl takes you under his wing and treats you like a sister. And Merle's reaction at prison b4 he dies. Maybe Y/n falls in love with Tara later on? Love u”

This is part two for this request. Link here

👉______👈 For the first part.

Request: anom.

Tags: @thanossexual

Y/an heart broke seeing the love of her life as one of those monsters. The little baby she had with Merle was in her arms when she and Dayrl found Merle eating someone it broke both of their hearts. Y/n was sobbing catching the attention of walker Merle. Dayrl was sobbing too, watching as his undead brother started limping towards them.

Dayrl pushed Merle backwards away from Y/n and her baby. Merle kept coming back until Dayrl stabbed Merle making him fall onto the grass. Dayrl continuously stabbed Merle over and over and over again. Sobbing he fell backwards. Y/n ran over to Dayrl pulling him into his arms. Her baby still on her side, sleeping soundly as she hugged the man she thought as a brother.

“He’s gone.” Dayrl sobbed into her shoulder. Y/n nodded, kissing his forehead.

“I know,” she whispered. Looking over Dayrls shaking body to where the love of her life laid dead.

“I know.” She shakily spoke as tears silently slid down her Y/s/t face.

—Months later—

The morning after the storm , all is peaceful. Maggie wakes up to see Daryl still awake. She sits by his side and talks with him, telling him he should get some sleep, and that it's okay to rest now.

Y/n sat with her back against a bail of hay, she rocking her Y/e/c eyed son, trying to keep him asleep. She softly hummed rocking Mason in one arm. Her other arm was draped over Carl protectively like a mother. Judith was asleep soundly in a blanket filled box. Just beside Y/n so she could take care of the small child, while Carl could get some sleep.

Maggie and Dayrl looked over at Sasha across the room asleep. "He was tough," Daryl remarks, referring to Tyreese. Maggie nodded in agreement, looking over at the sleeping woman. "So was she," Daryl adds, talking about Beth. "She didn't know it... but she was." Daryl hands Maggie the music box Carl gave to her. “I fixed it.” He spoke gruffly. Maggie smile as she took it. “Thank you.”

She then wakes Sasha and the two leave the barn. Looking around the barn they see the storm had killed most of the walkers or decapitated them, impaled or crushed by the trees

“I’m surprise the barn hadn’t fell down. It looks like a tornado has been through here.” Sasha says as she and Maggie made their way through the fallen trees to an open field.

Maggie and Sasha then sit down on a downed tree and watch the sunrise together. As they sit, Sasha tells Maggie what Noah said about himself, that he doesn't know if he can make it. Sasha admits that she feels the same way too. Maggie reassures her that she will survive. Maggie tries to play the music box, but finds that the box is still broken.

The two laugh, but their conversation was cut short by a young man, cautiously walking up to the two.

“My names Aaron, I came to speak to your leader Rick.” The man

The women are confused as they draw their guns and ask how he knows about Rick.

“I have good news!” He starts holding his hands up, showing the two women they could trust him.

Maggie and Sasha brought Aaron to the barn where the rest of the group was resting. Rick and the others appear to be wary over Aaron's arrival.

Maggie gives Rick Aaron's gun, which Rick keeps as he asks Aaron what his intentions are.

“How did you know we were here?” Rick looks at the young man. “I’ve been watching you all for a while. I needed to make sure you guys weren’t gonna kill me as soon as you saw me. But I was the one to give you guys the supplies yesterday.” Aaron informs the group.

Rick chooses not to believe him, and convinces the group that Aaron has another agenda. Aaron, knowing that he would believe so, asks Sasha to give Rick his backpack, directing him to a small set of photographs of his community which he had taken as evidence of its existence. As Aaron explains what his community is about and emphasizes on its security, Rick punches him in the face, knocking him out. Y/n shook her head looking at the unconscious man.

“He could be dangerous.” Rick said looking at Y/n with kind eyes. Y/n nodded as she hugged her young son close to her chest. “I trust you.” She whispered giving him an nod. He nodded pulling her into a brotherly hug, careful not to hurt the baby in her arms.

Tara look over at Y/n giving her a soft smile. Y/n smiled back as she pulled away from Rick. “You should get to know Tara, I see it in y’alls eyes. You have some type of connection.” Rick whispered into her ear. Y/n shook her head as she looked at Rick.

Before she could say anything Rick stopped her. “I know it’s been only a few months since Merle passed, but you should be happy. And before you say anything. I know your happy with little mason here, but still you should have someone there for you.” Y/n huffed knowing Rick was correct.

“I hate it when your right.” She said looking down at her Y/e/c baby. “I know, that’s why you don’t like me. ‘Cause I’m always right.” Y/n snorted a laugh looking up at Rick. “That’s funny.”

“Alright, you three,” Rick starts pointing at a few of people of the group. “Go out keep watch. Make sure nobody’s watching us.” A few of them nodded but Michonne shook her head.

“I don’t think Aaron’s a threat. I mean look at him.” Michonne tries to convince Rick.

“I don’t care, we still aren’t trusting him. Rick insisted.

“There aren’t many places for anyone to hide.” Glenn informs Rick, causing more panic within the group. As Aaron regains consciousness, he maintains a positive attitude, jokingly complimenting Rick's strength. Rick shoots back saying that they cannot trust someone who is still laughing after being beaten.

“How many people are in you group?” Rock asked bearing his flare gun as evidence of company.

“It don’t matter how many, it won’t affect whether or not you’ll trust me.”

Rick insists he confesses anyway, and Aaron informs him that there is only one. Aaron also reveals that he and his accomplice have vehicles that they had attempted to bring closer to the barn, but had been blocked by the surrounding trees.

Michonne tells Rick that she wants to know the truth by checking it out. Rick turns down the task saying that it is a bad idea, but after Maggie and Glenn speak up in favor, Rick decides to let everyone except him, baby Judith Y/n and her baby to go scout ahead, ordering Abraham and Rosita to go with Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne and the rest of the group to search the surrounding area.

As the groups leave, Aaron tells Rick that he used to be pointed at with guns before the apocalypse, due to his job as an NGO worker, and that he believes he and his people are good. Rick instead warns Aaron that if his people do not return in one hour, he would put a knife in the base of his skull.

Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Rosita and Abraham are still walking towards their destination. Glenn warns the others to shoot whoever comes out from the woods, should the time come.

Michonne, horrified by Glenn's orders, voices her opinion. Glenn replies saying that people should not come to the people who have guns like them. Disagreeing, Michonne says that Aaron's community are not bad people, reminding him of how they rescued Gabriel, of how they saved Tara after her involvement with The Governor, and of how they saved a crazy woman with a sword, implying herself.

Glenn reluctantly agrees. They reach the specified location, finding a car and an RV, and realize that Aaron was telling the truth. A pair of walkers come out from the woods, one almost biting Abraham before Rosita intervenes. Abraham thanks her but is ignored.

In the barn, baby Judith starts crying, while Rick crushes acorns for her to eat.

“Why don’t you just let me feed her?” Y/n asks, talking about breast feeding Judith as she helps crush the acorns.

“You need that for Mason, it’s okay.” Rick says quietly.

“Her crying’s going to attract walkers.” Aaron reminds the two from his spot. tied to the barn's support.

“Look, just take the applesauce from my bag. I promise it’s safe to eat.” . Aaron insists.

Still cautious of Aaron's intentions, Rick extracts a spoonful of the apple sauce from the supplied jar and offers it to Aaron, telling him to eat it first as a precaution.

Aaron, realizing what he is doing and taking offense from it, refuses, saying that poisoning his baby would be the last thing he would have ever done.

Rick, however, insists, even after Aaron informs him that he dislikes apple sauce. Against his wishes, he consumes it. After realizing it is safe, Rick rushes back and shares the sauce with Judith. Rick reminds Aaron that he has 43 minutes left.

“Thank you.” Y/n mouthed to the man tied to the barn support. He nodded softly with a smile while Y/n walked over to the corner of the room. A soft little whine caught his attention. Looking over he seen Y/n picking up a baby, who seemed to be around 5 maybe six months old. He noticed Y/n was about to feed her baby and redirected his eyes elsewhere.

“How did you know he needed to be fed before he cried?” Aaron asked Y/n as she covered herself so she wasn’t exposed.

“A mother’s instinct I guess.” She answered honestly. “Are you the mom to them both?” Aaron asked, looking at the Y/h/c haired woman.

“No, just him.” She answered nodding down to her son she was breast feeding.

Aaron nodded noticing Rick wasn’t looking very happy at the mention of his daughter not having a mom.

“But I like to think I’m a momma to the both of them.” Y/n says softly. “I may not be biologically, but I take care of these kids like they are mine.” She says talking about Carl and Judith not just her and merles son, Mason.

Months after being in Alexandria:

Y/n stood in front of the gray crib. Watching as her son slept soundly. It had became such a habit of watching her son sleep. She could barely leave him in the crib for five minutes. She always had to be near him, no matter what.

Y/n heard a knock on the door and hummed softly as she left her sleeping sons room and went to answer the door.

Opening the door she seen Tara who seemed to be a little nervous.

“Tara, why are you knocking? You leave here too.” Tara nodded nervously as she looked into Y/ns beautiful y/e/c eyes.

“I know, but I was just trying to see if you were home, and I didn’t want to rush in their and wake the baby.” She answered, almost too quickly.

“Oh, well, did you need anything?” Y/n asked opening the door wider for Tara to come in. Tara smile walking into the door and to the kitchen where she had smelt the warm black coffee.

“I never would’ve thought I would have coffee ever again.” Tara rambled, not getting to the point of her being in the house instead of being on a run like Y/n had thought.

“Well, Thank God for the people here. If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have the hot running water, clean clothes, shelter and food.”

Tara nodded as she took a sip of the coffee.

“I didn’t come in here for coffee though. I Umm... I came in here to tell you something.” She started, grabbing Y/ns hands into her own.

“I like you Y/n. Like, like you, like you. I think I’m in love with you. Seeing you with Mason, makes me feel like I want that, but with you. I see you and I see the person I want a future with. The woman I have grown to love. The woman who is strong and powerful. The woman who protects her children.” Tara confessed her love for Y/n.

Y/n smiled looking at Tara. “I love you too. I have for a whole now, but I just thought it was too soon from Merles death. But I talk to Dayrl and Rick about it. I think I’m ready. I want to be with you.” Y/n said looking into Taras soft brown eyes and then to her soft plump pink lips.

Tara leaned in slowly placing a soft kiss on Y/ns lips. And that was the beginning of their story.

[booklovingturtle]

Jude Tells Cardan About Locke

Hiya! This is a kinda like a part two to this fic and once again, dedicated to @duarteegreenbriar for the idea! I also reference this one at the end.

In this fic, Cardan notices Jude has a nasty new scar and Jude tells him about what Locke did to her the night before Taryn’s wedding. Buuuutt...some Jude mildly-nsfw (fluff) before he sees it because I had time so why not make it long-ish.

Cardan flopped into his bed, feeling drawn out after an intense day full of arguing with the lower courts. It’s only been two weeks since the High King split his throne in two; he was already wishing that he could go back to the carefree life he lived as a serpent. 

“You should get out of your court clothes before you call asleep.” Jude was already in her closet so her words came out muffled.

As much as he loved sharing his room with her, Cardan didn’t love her completely valid ideas that required him to get back up from bed.

“I was hoping you could help me out of them, Your Majesty,” he called out to her.

She laughed from the other side of the room. “I could hear you snore during Lord Roiban’s proposal. I don’t think you have the energy for that tonight.”

Cardan didn’t bothering hiding the coy smile on his face. He felt a blush on his cheeks but his eyes were still sealed shut. The warm caress of sleep was already pulling him under. He heard her door open and close. She stepped towards him, still laughing at the High King of Elfhame falling asleep on their bed.

“Come,” she whispered, tugging at his arms.

Cardan felt her fingers curl around his. She gently pulled his upper body up. He sat up while still kept his eyes closed. He faked a loud snore and she kicked him but giggled at the sound. God, Cardan loved the sound of her laugh. For so long he thought he would never get to hear it and now he couldn't go an hour without trying to get her to smile at him.

“Hurry up. If you don’t change then you’ll ruin your ugly coat and be upset with yourself tomorrow.”

That did make him open his eyes. “You think my coat is ugly?” His question was already forgotten as he took one look at Jude.

The High Queen of Elfhame looked sinfully beautiful in her sleeping clothes. Mortal day clothes, or “pjs” as Jude had called them, were very different from Faerie ones. Jude wore different clothes to bed, some times Faerie day gowns, sometimes these black pants that she called “leggings”, and other times nothing at all. The latter was his favorite outfit of hers.

Tonight she wore a simple, over-sized white shirt that was clearly mortal in fit. It went down to her the middle of her thighs, allowing Cardan to admire her beautiful legs. Her hair was twisted into a messy knot at the base of her neck.

“No.” Jude swatted his hands away. “Go change.”

He groaned, extending his arms again to pull her waist closer to him. To his luck she let him draw her in this time. “Jude dear...”

“Yes?” Her hands were on top of his and she made eye contact with him without any hint of malice. Months as husband and wife and weeks of a true relationship yet Cardan still couldn’t believe that she was really his. And he was hers.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled gently. Jude and gentle almost never belonged in a sentence together but he was her exception. 

“I know,” she played with his fingers.

He chuckled. He knew that the smile on his face was probably too wide to be kingly but he didn’t care. “You love me, too. You said so yourself.”

“Really? I don’t remember saying that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Come here,” he begged, loving the way her mouth teased him with every word.

She obliged his request. Cardan tasted mint and the sweetness of happiness on her lips. His whole body started to wake up as her hands moved up his arms and buried themselves in his hair. Cardan’s own fingers danced under the hem of her shirt. She tugged on his curls and his fingers curled agains the material of shirt. He gasped when she surprised him by bitting his lower lip.

“Jude.”

“Somebody seems awake all of a sudden.” She played with his tail that twisted around her leg.

That drove him to the edge. He closed the little space between them by twisting their bodies so she was pressed against the plush mattress. He was in between her legs, feeling the slope of her stomach and the curves of her body under the shirt. She gasped under hime, her body arching at his touch.

“And somebody seems to be wearing far too many clothes,” he smirked and continued to push up her shirt to reveal all of her body to him.

“Not so fast, High King,” Jude shook her head. “You first.”

Cardan didn't even hesitant to yank off his coat and shirt, then his bottoms. She laughed at his rushed actions. He cut her laughter short with another heat-filled kiss. His lips ran down the length of her body until he reached her naval. She moaned once his mouth moved lower down. Then huffed as he skipped to the soft skin of her thighs. His hands brace the back of her knees, lifting them to position her better until his fingers feel the ragged skin of a scar.

Cardan froze at the feeling of an old puncture wound, one he didn’t remember from the first time he touched her. Cardan tried to remember if it was there the last few times they were together. It was possible that in the heat of the moment he’d never noticed it before but now that he had, he couldn’t ignore it.

“Jude?” his breathing was ragged and his voice deep but his head had cleared just enough for him to talk.

“What’s wrong?” she looked down at him, clearly confused.

“What is this?” He traced the edges of the scar again.

She paled, curling her legs into herself. “It’s nothing. An old scar.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t break eye contact with her as he sat on his knees. “No, it’s not. I don’t remember it being there before. Where did that come from?”

She gave him a frustrated sigh. “I have lots of scars, Cardan. Some old, some new. It’s really nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. If it was really nothing then you would have answered me the first time.”

Jude rolled her eyes. “Cardan-”

He took her hands from where they’d been resting at her lap. He brought her left hand up and kissed her ring finger. “You can tell me. Part of being husband and wife is sharing each other’s burdens.” 

She watched him, not resisting his action. Finally she spoke, “It happened the night before Taryn’s wedding.”

The night before she was taken. Before Balekin and Orlagh got their hands on her. Before Balekin-

Cardan blocked the thoughts from his mind, trying to focus on Jude’s words instead of the ones he’d read in his brother’s handwriting. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask her about what he’d read.

“I was on my way to see Taryn when seven riders attacked me in the woods. It was dark and they caught me by surprise. Don’t worry, I left most of them with worse than a little scar,” she tried to brush off the attack.

“Seven riders? Faerie riders?”

“No, seven teletubby riders.”

“What?” Cardan had never heard of any faerie creatures by the name. After a beat he realized the deadpan nature of her words meant she was being sarcastic. “Oh, never mind.”

A small smile played at the edges of her cheeks. “Yes, faerie riders. I don’t know for sure if they were trying to kill me but they definitely wanted to make sure that I was scared.”

“Did Orlagh send them after you?” Cardan had never forgiven the Undersea Queen but if he knew that she’d somehow managed to hurt Jude in his own territory, he’d find a way to repay her for that crime as well.

“No...it was Locke.”

Cardan shook his head in disappointment. He wished he could say that it was a surprise. That he’d never suspected Locke to be capable of leaving such a nasty scar on his fierce wife. But he knew better than that. He knew that Locke was a cruel Master of Revel who relished in sadistic games. Of course he'd gone after Jude that night. She would have been too preoccupied with trying to keep Oak safe and Taryn happy for the wedding to truly protect herself. If Locke was still alive, he’d have had him strung to a tree by the points of his ears.

“Locke did this to you?”

“I’m not sure if it was his arrow but it was him and his rider friends. They chased me through the woods until I scared them away. Not before I could chop a few down with an axe.”

His jaw ticked in anger. “Who were the other riders?”

“I don’t know. It was dark so I couldn’t really see anything. The only reason I know for sure that it was Locke is because he took my wedding present for Taryn and gave it to her himself.”

“I don't understand,” the High King shook his head. “Why would he do that?”

Jude gave him a sad look. “There’s nothing to understand, Cardan. Locke was a bad man who enjoyed causing others pain. He hated me and probably you for loving me. I should have seen it coming.”

Cardan looked at her in disbelief. “No, this is my fault. I entertained his games far too long. I made him Master of Revel for God’s sake. I should have paid better attention. I should have drawn a line for him to stay behind. Instead I was too afraid of my own feelings to ever protect you.”

That sounded ridiculous even to himself. Jude was an unstoppable force. She was the rock that sharpened the sword, and the hand that wielded it, and the tip that pierced skin. She had protected him time and time again even after he'd failed her. But never again. There would never be another Locke or Valerian or Orlagh or Balekin. Not as long as he was alive.

“That was in the past. It’s over now. Besides, Taryn handled him well enough for the both of us.” Jude caressed his face.

“I know I can’t protect you the way that you’ve been there for me. But Jude I swear to you as long as I live no will ever leave another scar on your body and last through the night.”

Her smile was a bright as the morning sunrise. “How about you wait to make those kinds of threats until we’re able to pick up our training sessions again.”

Cardan groaned, throwing himself back on his back. “Please no more training. You’re High Queen now. I can’t handle your wrath anymore.” 

He knew she was changing the subject on purpose but he didn’t mind. She’d opened up to him and that was enough. Tonight was just another reminder of how far they’d come together and how much Cardan and Jude still had to look forward to.