#and i decided to write this instead of sleeping

[misshoneyimhome]

What’s up, buttercups! 🎄✨

Merry (steamy) Christmas, my loves! I’m so excited to share this next festive chapter for Sexy Christmas featuring none other than Captain Auston Matthews himself on this Christmas morning ❤️ This one is all about cosy holiday mornings, unwrapped surprises, and a whole lot of passion.

This chapter was such a joy to write— I had my g @lcandothisallday in mind ❤️ I hope it warms your holiday spirit (and maybe heats things up a little too).

Wishing you all the happiest of holidays filled with love, laughter, and a little extra spice.

Happy reading, my darlings! xo 🎁✨

➼｡ﾟ

Christmas Morning, Barely Wrapped - Auston Matthews

OC and the hockey player wake up together on Christmas morning, but instead of opening presents, they decide to unwrap each other first, making the holiday morning unforgettable.

Tropes & Warnings: 18+ smut, Auston Matthews x reader, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 2.6K

The soft glow of morning light seeped through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden hue. Outside, the world was hushed under a blanket of freshly fallen snow, a serene Christmas morning tableau. Inside, however, the warmth was anything but serene.

You stirred first, the faint hum of forgotten holiday music drifting from the speaker left on the night before. Your eyes opened to find Auston Matthews beside you, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks, his tousled hair a tempting mess. His broad chest rose and fell steadily, the intricate tattoos on his arm stretched lazily across the pillow.

The sight stirred memories of the night before, heat blooming in your cheeks as the events replayed in your mind.

“Mmm, morning,” Auston’s voice, low and still laced with sleep, broke through your thoughts. His dark eyes blinked open, meeting yours with a slow, lazy grin that was both boyish and utterly captivating. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you murmured, your voice husky from sleep as your fingers reached out to trace the stubble along his jaw.

He caught your hand, his lips brushing over your palm in a kiss that sent a shiver racing down your spine. His gaze, heavy with mischief and intent, held yours as he rolled onto his side, the covers slipping to reveal the expanse of his bare chest.

“Thought I’d wake up to presents,” he teased, his grin widening. “Instead, I get this view. Guess I’ve been really good this year.”

You laughed softly, but the sound faltered as his hand found your waist, tugging you closer beneath the covers. “You’re impossible,” you replied, though your breath hitched as his lips ghosted over yours.

“Impossible to resist,” he murmured, his words melting into the kiss he pressed against your lips. It started slow, tender, but quickly deepened, his hand sliding under the hem of the oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt—that you’d worn to bed, knowing full well you weren’t wearing panties beneath it, just as Auston had requested.

The warmth of his palm against your bare skin sent sparks coursing through you. “Didn’t realise you were unwrapping your first gift already,” you teased, your voice breathless as his lips found the sensitive spot below your ear.

“Best gift in this house,” he rasped, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “And I’m not sharing.”

Your laughter dissolved into a soft moan as his hands grew bolder, sliding the t-shirt up and over your head. His eyes raked over you; appreciation written in every line of his expression as he took in the sight of you in the soft morning light.

“Mmm yes, the perfect gift for me,” he said, his voice low and rough, his hands settling on your waist as though grounding himself. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his touch reverent yet insistent.

And instinctively, your hands found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants, your grin turning playful as you tugged at the fabric. “Maybe I should unwrap you too.”

His laughter rumbled low in his chest as he shifted, helping you slide the fabric down his hips, leaving him gloriously bare beneath the golden light. The sight of him stole your breath, the intimacy of the moment heightened as he drew you closer, his hands steady on your hips.

“You’re all I want for Christmas, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he effortlessly guided you to straddle him, the heat of his body against yours driving every coherent thought from your mind.

You grinned down at him, your hands roaming over the expanse of his toned chest, feeling the defined muscles shift under your touch. The air between you was thick with tension, nearly tangible, the kind that made your pulse race.

“And you are…” you began, your voice dripping with seduction as you let your fingers trail lower, never breaking contact with his heated skin. Slowly moving yourself down his body, you stopped just above his growing length, your lips hovering tantalisingly close as your hand wrapped around him, stroking his length with deliberate care. “…all I want, Aus.”

Your voice was low and filled with unrestrained desire, each word laced with intent. As he hardened fully in your hand, you leaned forward, your breath warm against him. With slow, deliberate movements, you took him into your mouth, your touch gentle but purposeful as you savoured every reaction your actions drew from him.

Auston groaned softly, his head falling back against the pillows as your lips wrapped around him, the warmth of your mouth sending a shudder through his body. His hand instinctively found its way to your hair, his fingers tangling gently in the strands as he murmured, “Fuck… you’re incredible.”

You maintained a slow, teasing rhythm, your tongue tracing along his cock as you glanced up at him through your lashes. The sight of him—his chest rising and falling heavily, his dark eyes hazy with desire—sent a surge of confidence through you, spurring you on as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly, not to guide you but as if to ground himself, his breath hitching with every deliberate movement of your lips. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough and low, his words laced with both awe and urgency.

You pulled back just enough to respond, your lips brushing over him as you whispered, “I’m just getting started.” Your hand replaced your mouth momentarily, stroking him with a firm but gentle grip as your other hand slid up his chest, your nails grazing his skin.

The way his hips bucked slightly into your touch, the way his head tilted back as he groaned your name, made you feel powerful, completely in control as you explored every reaction you could draw from him. You leaned back down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip before taking him into your mouth again, deeper this time, the sensation earning a sharp gasp from him.

“Baby…” he rasped; his voice strained as his fingers flexed in your hair. “You’re so fucking good, but… I’m not going to last if you keep going like that.”

You pulled back, a smirk playing on your lips as you kissed your way back up his body, your movements slow and deliberate, making him feel every inch of your touch. When you reached his lips, you captured them in a kiss that was deep and consuming, your bodies pressing flush against each other as his hands found your waist.

“Then maybe we should move on to the next present,” you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with teasing intent as you rolled your hips against his, the friction sending a spark of pleasure through you both.

Auston growled softly, flipping you onto your back with a controlled urgency, his hands bracketing your head as he hovered over you. “You’re naughty,” he said, his lips curving into a grin that was both playful and full of promise. “But I think I like it when you’re naughty”

Auston’s grin widened, his dark eyes heavy with desire as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all-consuming. His body pressed against yours, the warmth of his bare skin leaving no space between you. His lips moved with deliberate precision, each kiss growing deeper, more urgent, as his hands roamed your body, memorising every curve.

“You make it impossible to think about anything else,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. His hands slipped down to your thighs, his fingers expertly finding your core to explore. 

You gasped as he found your sensitive clit, his thumb circling while his index pressed passed your entrance. 

Auston’s grin turned wicked as he felt the way your body reacted to his touch, his fingers moving with deliberate intent. “Mmm, so wet for me already,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with satisfaction. His thumb continued its relentless circles over your sensitive clit, while his fingers pressed deeper inside you, curling slightly to hit just the right spot.

Your back arched off the bed, a soft moan escaping your lips as your hands gripped his shoulders for stability. The intensity of his touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body, each movement coaxing more from you.

“Aus…” you breathed, your voice trembling as your hips moved instinctively against his hand, seeking more.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, the fire of desire unmistakable as he leaned down, brushing his lips over your jawline and down your neck. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Every flick of his thumb, every press and curl of his fingers sent you higher, your breaths turning into soft, broken gasps. The way he watched you, his gaze fixed on your every reaction, only added to the heat pooling in your core.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his lips finding the sensitive spot below your ear. “So beautiful like this.”

The tension built quickly, your body coiling tighter with every calculated stroke of his hand. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your moans growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“Auston, I…” you managed to gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the wave of release loomed closer.

He grinned against your skin, his free hand gripping your hip to hold you steady. “Mmm yes, baby,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with encouragement. “Come for me.”

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, sent you tumbling over the edge. Your body arched against his, a cry of ecstasy spilling from your lips as the pleasure consumed you. Auston didn’t stop, his movements slowing but never ceasing, drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling beneath him.

As you came down from your high, Auston’s lips pressed soft kisses along your collarbone and up to your jawline. His hand slid out from between your thighs, only to rest gently on your hip, grounding you as you caught your breath.

“I love it when I make you cum like that,” he murmured, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and adoration as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

With a fluid motion, Auston turned you onto your stomach, his strong hands guiding you as you settled against the mattress. He straddled you, his knees framing your hips as his hands slid down your sides, spreading your cheeks gently to align himself with your entrance.

Leaning down, his lips brushed softly against the nape of your neck, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. One hand gripped your waist firmly, steadying you as he positioned himself, while the other grabbed the sheets next to your head. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, his voice a husky rasp laced with anticipation, sending shivers racing down your spine.

The moment he pressed into you, your body tensed, the stretch sending a mix of pleasure and intensity coursing through you. Your fingers clenched the pillow on either side of your head. For a moment he stilled, giving you time to adjust as he pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blade, his hand massaging your hips to keep you grounded.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he began to move slowly, his hips rolling in deliberate, measured thrusts that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. His chest stayed pressed against your back, his warmth and weight a comforting contrast to the intensity of his movements.

Each thrust grew deeper, more deliberate, as Auston adjusted his angle, seeking out and finding that spot inside you that made you cry out in pure bliss. The room filled with the symphony of your moans, harmonising with his laboured breaths and the faint creak of the bed beneath you. The pace quickened, each movement driving you both closer to the edge, the connection between you electric.

His hand explored your body with unrestrained devotion, one gripping your hips firmly to hold you in place, the other tightening in the sheets. His touch was both possessive and tender, as though he wanted to claim every inch of you while cherishing it all at once.

The position felt like the perfect juxtaposition—intimately close yet tantalisingly daring. His chest pressed to your back, his lips leaving soft, lingering kisses along your shoulder and neck, adding a layer of romantic heat to the raw intensity of the moment. You felt entirely consumed by him, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, every movement sending you both spiralling further into pleasure.

Auston’s rhythm grew steadier, each deliberate thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer into him with every movement, as if he couldn’t bear to let even a breath of space exist between you. The sheer intensity of the connection left you trembling, your moans spilling freely, blending with the low groans escaping from deep in his throat.

His hand then slid down the curve of your back, his fingertips tracing your spine with a reverence that sent shivers through you. The position of his featherlight caress along your back heightened every sensation, making you ache for him even more.

“Aus…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with raw need. The sound of his name on your lips seemed to ignite something in him, his movements growing deeper, more purposeful as he adjusted his angle. The shift had you gasping, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo as he found the perfect spot inside you. “Just like that.” 

“Oh shi-,”” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fuck I’m getting close, baby.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as your body arched into him. His chest pressed flush against your back, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear before trailing down to your shoulder. Each kiss was a mix of tenderness and unrestrained hunger, as if he was determined to leave no part of you untouched, unclaimed.

His hand slipped from your hip, sliding around to your front, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core. The dual sensations of his touch and the way he moved within you had you spiralling closer to the edge, the tension coiling tighter with every moment.

“Auston, I’m gonna—” you gasped, your words catching as the pleasure overtook you, the waves crashing over you in a crescendo that left you trembling in his arms. And the way your body clenched around him pushed him to his own release, a deep groan vibrating against your skin as he buried himself fully, his movements faltering as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your laboured breaths and the soft hum of the world outside. Auston’s weight pressed comfortingly against you as he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, his lips lingering there before he pulled out and shifted to lie beside you.

Turning you gently, he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close as his hands glided through your hair. His voice was a tender murmur against your ear, warm and content. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, the satisfaction in his tone matching the soft glow still radiating between you. “Best morning I could ever wish for.”

You smiled, your lips brushing against his chest as you rested your head there, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding you in the moment. “Merry Christmas, Aus,” you replied softly, your voice laced with warmth and contentment.

Entwined in each other’s embrace, with the morning light filtering in and the world outside covered in snow, everything felt perfect. It was the kind of Christmas morning you’d remember forever—the kind where love, warmth, and joy made everything else fade into the background.

[2000sangel]

⋆⁺₊❅. GuitarSpear x GN!Reader - This year, I give you my heart again ⋆⁺₊❅.

Self indulgent Adam x Lute x Reader fic I cooked up - Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy <3 (Sorry for OOC Lute, first time writing her !!)

Divider credit : cafekitsune

Your eyelids flutter open, eyes easily adjusting to the soft light shining through the curtains of your shared bedroom’s French window. You stare at the ceiling for a bit, wondering what time it is, before being interrupted by a particularly loud snore coming from your left.

You make a face, looking at still asleep Adam, lying on his back with Lute on his left and you on his right, his wings sprawled out on the king sized bed and only his legs being covered by the blanket, but your expression softens when he mumbles something in his sleep that you can’t quite catch and nuzzles his face into your hair.

Rather than his usual tank top and boxers, he’s wearing a pretty thick black sweatshirt and a pair of matching sweatpants; he claims to not feel the cold, but you can see him visibly shivering every time he opts to wear his usual attire around this time of the year, so you and Lute force him into cosier clothes.

His brown hair is a mess, and his mouth is slightly open and- ew, is that saliva on the corner? With a sneer you decide not to dwell on your messy sleeper of a boyfriend, and focus on your girlfriend Lute instead, who on the contrary still looks like an angel, even if you now reside in the depths of Hell.

She’s lying on her right side, her head gently resting on Adam’s bicep. Not exactly a fan of physical affection, she’s not properly cuddling up to him, rather she’s curled up on herself. One of her wings is tucked under her arm, while the other is stretched out on the mattress much like Adam’s. The fact that she’s wearing one of your sweatshirts makes you smile, she had forgotten that her warmer one was in the washing machine last night so she opted to rummage through your wardrobe and pick out something from there instead. Her leggings match with the colour, she likes going for combinations even around the house.

Cute, you think. They’re really cute. You almost forget your drowsiness, and that you struggled to fall asleep last night because today is finally Sinsmas.

...

...wait.

You sit up, and you’re sure that if music accompanied your every action, a jolly tune would be playing in the background right now.

With an excited grin, you ponder on whether to sneak into the living room and put the gifts you’ve gotten for your loves under the tree or to wake them up so you can all just exchange them together. Hardest decision of your life, clearly.

Another idea pops into your head...what if you put the presents under the tree and made them a tasty breakfast? Spoiling your two favourite people in the world and on Hell, that sounds like a wonderful plan, yes. This is what you settle on.

You do your absolute best to avoid waking them up; you were half laying on Adam’s wing while you slept, so you have to basically do acrobatics to get out of bed without at least him noticing. You eventually manage, though, and quietly dig into your own closet in search of the various packages you’ve prepared for them.

Once you get a hold of everything, you finally sneak out of the room and into the living room, placing everything under the Sinsmas tree like you intended to, thinking up some good ideas for a fun breakfast that you could prepare in the meantime.

Doing that is way easier once you’re in the kitchen, with a large recipe book in your hands; it was technically a gift for Adam, since he can’t cook or bake shit, but all three of you use it regularly because the stuff that you can make out of it is just that good.

Chocolate chip cookies...too long to prepare, you’re not even sure you have the chocolate chip. Blueberry pancakes...you could try, you’ve got all the ingredients after all, Lute loves blueberries so you always have a few bowls of those in the fridge. Hm...maybe some scrambled eggs could work too...no, you’ve settled on the pancakes by now and you also had the genius idea to make smoothies to accompany them too.

You quickly close the book and get to work after glancing at the clock hanging above the entrance door; 10:05 AM, they could wake up soon!

Flour, baking powder, sugar, eggs and everything else are set on the counter, along with the blueberries that need to stay out of the fridge for a bit or else they’ll be practically frozen...wait, you have other fruit too! Adam loves banana, so you grab one of those from the basket in the centre of the table.

You multitask with a big goofy smile on your face; you make a good amount of pancakes for you three while preparing smoothies with a mix of fruits that you have around the kitchen, and some milk. You assign different tall cups to each one of you, as Adam likes his smoothies with bits of fruit in them while Lute prefers them smooth and liquid.

You hear them shuffle in the bedroom after a bit, just about when you’re done with the last plate of pancakes- yours.

Adam comments on the gifts under the tree before smelling the air and following an imaginary scent trail leading to the kitchen, where you’re already sitting down at the table, grinning up at him and at Lute following right behind.

“Good morning!” you greet them in an almost sing-songy tone.

“Holy shit, good morning babe, what’s this?” Adam asks you, gesturing to the sweet treats laying on the already set kitchen table.

You shrug and look away, with a smile on your face still.

“Oh, nothing...just sit down and tell me how these taste!”

Because of your averted gaze you don’t notice Adam walking up to you, until he’s close enough to plant a big kiss on your temple. Lute simply fluffs up her wings at the sight, and stretches a bit before sitting across you where she recognizes that you’ve placed her plate and drink. Adam follows her example and sits at the head of the table, immediately digging in.

Your girlfriend hums pleasantly as soon as she starts chewing on the pancakes, sleek eyebrows rising.

“I don’t remember you ever making pancakes. They’re so good, dear, especially if it’s the first time,”

You fake sob at her sweet compliment, and mutter a thank you before taste-testing your own creation. Adam is too busy choking on a banana slice to agree with Lute, which makes you giggle and your girlfriend roll her eyes.

---

Putting the dirty dishes and cups in the sink, you all agree that you can take care of those later- right after opening the presents, which you are all super excited about.

Lute claims the couch right after she and Adam go get their presents for you and each other, she lies on her stomach and rests her arms on the armrest while she waits for the unwrapping to begin. Adam chooses to sit on the floor near the tree, he’s known to be lazy and everything is easier to reach that way, while you sit at the foot of the couch with your back resting against it- Lute’s wing gently grazes your shoulder.

“Alright! Who’s starting?” you ask, randomly grabbing a small flat package all wrapped up in golden gift-wrap. Adam smirks;

“That one’s for you, nice packaging, ay?” he brags, and you snort while second glancing at it. It’s a bit messy, but you appreciate the effort.

After a bit of a struggle to open it –he’s put an excessive amount of tape on it- you eventually manage, and if your smile could grow bigger you bet it would. It’s a videogame that released very recently, and that you haven’t had the chance to buy for yourself yet...Lute is not a big gamer, so of course Adam is the one who knows all about what genres you’re interested in, since all the consoles you own he’s bought.

“Oh, videogame?” Lute tilts her head to see better, “Nice, I didn’t know about this one actually.”

“Yes! I’ve been avoiding spoilers for a while because I was waiting to get paid to buy it...” holding it close to your chest, you thank your boyfriend, who nearly melts at how cute you look.

The next gift that gets unwrapped is for Lute, from you; as she carefully removes the paper around it as if to avoid ripping it apart, you turn towards her;

“Premise: I’m not creepy for remembering about this, okay...” she makes a face, “You just never really talk about what you’d like so when you mentioned this months ago I had to write it down on the spot...”

Lute seems to realize what you’re talking about, and suddenly her efforts to not rip the paper are no more. She skilfully tears at it, revealing another see-through package with a PJ set in it.

You and Adam know about your girlfriend’s love for the paranormal that she’s developed in the past few months, so when she brought up how her favourite clothing brand had released a line related to it you immediately knew what you had to do.

Both the deep purple blouse and pants are made of silk, and look extremely comfortable even though they’re a size small. The pattern is gorgeous, colourless drawings of moths and skulls intertwine with each other in a manner that makes the design look busy yet tidy at the same time.

Lute doesn’t show excitement very often, but as she feels the soft fabric against her fingers and admires the patterns she indulges in a thrilled flap of her wings and a pretty smile.

“Fuck, I finally have this! You remembered huh?” because your forehead is easily reachable for her, she holds your face with one hand and kisses you right there, you can feel her smile against your skin, “Thank you, I love it...if you couldn’t tell.”

Despite her trying to play it cool, you know she’s genuine, and it makes your heart slightly flutter.

Then, Lute reaches for something a bit hidden behind the tree; it’s the biggest gift yet between the ones you’ve unwrapped, and you recognize the thunder pattern on the paper that you both have been using for a while to wrap stuff up for Adam. That roll never ends, you both swear.

“Fucking finally! Was starting to get worried there was nothing for me here.” He’s obviously playing, but you both sigh at him.

He rips through it with not a single care in the world, cursing under his breath when some pieces of tape don’t come off right away. Lute reminds him about your package from Hell, which was more tape than wrapping paper, and he waves her off with a ‘yeah, yeah’.

Once the gift is fully out, he holds it up in the air with a whistle.

“Fuuuuck! This bangs, what the Hell!”

It’s a backpack, which you fucking wish will replace the one he’s currently using since it’s basically falling apart. He brings it everywhere, to concerts, trips, just to go out for a walk down the street or do groceries...the old one is black and plain, with no design on it at all, while the new one that Lute has gotten for him has a personalized print with his name and a guitar underneath, all in bright yellow, which contrasts nicely against the black fabric.

He starts rambling about how he finally has enough space to put his guitar pick holder inside, since the backpack does look bigger as well, and about how he wants to know where Lute has gotten the design printed since he loves putting his name on things.

“Thank you so much babe, I love it,” he finally says, which alright, it was clear enough...but it is nice that he’s finally got some manners, in both your and Lute’s opinion.

It’s midday when you three finally finish unwrapping everything, and the amount of stuff just lying around on the floor is astounding. Gift-wrap, tape, various tags and even boxes make it hard to walk around in your living room.

But you three look extremely content, each of you with a different loot;

Adam holds his backpack, a plethora of guitar picks, those fuzzy socks that you either love or hate (he’s a lover, Lute’s a hater), hair gel because he claims his natural hair isn’t voluminous enough, a pair of alt shoes that he’s been eyeing for a while and a cool holder for one of his various consoles. He’s the most open about what he wants, so getting him presents isn’t that hard, really.

Lute has got her PJ set, some gym tools that she was missing, some makeup since she’s been experimenting more with that instead of sticking to her usual simple eyeliner, a specific lotion for her wings since she likes keeping them neat and a couple pieces of jewellery- you’ve figured out that she really likes minimalist silver necklaces by observing what she wears on dates.

And you’ve got your new videogame which you’re super excited about, a shirt with the print of a show you’ve been obsessed with for weeks on end, some food actually? (Adam’s idea, he knows your favourite sweets and snacks by heart), a portable phone charger in the shape of your favourite animal and two tote bags, each matching with one of your fave outfits that you wear the most.

Adam kicks a box aside, making you and Lute frown; this is your cue to tidy everything up before getting to cook lunch...together, you’ve decided.

You chat and laugh the cleaning session away, wondering what some friends back in Heaven have gotten for, well, Christmas, and pondering how to spend the afternoon and evening. You notice in the corner of your eye that the window has slightly fogged up;

“Mh? What’s the matter?” Lute asks while folding her PJ;

You step closer to the window and wipe some of the condensation away from the glass, your face lighting up at the sight of what’s happening outside. Your partners curiously approach you, Adam engulfing you both from behind with his large wings.

They both understand your excitement upon noticing that it’s snowing.

Leaning against your boyfriend’s broad chest a bit and pulling Lute closer to you –she doesn’t really mind either of you doing that-, you perk up;

“Alright, let’s hurry with lunch, this literally calls for a movie marathon while wrapped up in blankets...!”

[strwbrychffoncake]

"christmas dreaming,, word count: 3.3k synopsis: you both dreamed of a christmas together, and this winter, it seems that it may just come true contains: lads caleb x f!reader (but the only indication is reader wears a nightgown lol) ,fluff -> kinda suggestive ,angst if you squint ,bickering ,use of "gege" (caleb refers to himself like this a couple times lol) ,reader is called "pipsqueak" ,cute hug moment ,mutual pining ,kind of oblivious!reader ,light jealousy ,lots of teasing (caleb likes to see u suffer lol) ,kissing -> soft makeout ,suggestive ending if you squint ,i think thats it.... note: (mostly edited! if theres any errors pls standby) i opened instagram to the official lads acc post ab an update w that fucking apple a couple days ago n suddenly this fic flew up on the prio list. this one is for the caleb girlies u mean sm to me

-

busy.

you had been busy (the exact opposite of what others this season should be) going on back-to-back missions, scouting and clearing out no-hunt zones instead of taking time off and spending it with loved ones, and spending the other half of your time writing up reports instead of window shopping and checking off gifts for everyone on your long-forgotten list.

on top of trying to get through as much work as possible, you weren't even sure if you were going to have anyone to spend christmas with this year, aside from your grandma.

caleb usually kept you updated on when he was supposed to have a break, but it seemed this time around was different as you fished your phone from your pocket, checking your messages for the upteenth time today only to see your messages still left on delivered.

you sighed.

at least there's gram you thought, putting your phone away and focusing all your attention back on the various bags that filled your arms.

after the miracle that was getting off from work early, you were out doing some last-minute christmas shopping.

not your finest moment, and most definitely not your favorite, but your second miracle of the day came in the form of snagging everything you had in mind for everyone on your list.

your mind drifted to caleb's gift and you couldn't help but second guess yourself, wondering if he would even like it.

not that it was something you had to worry too much about right now, considering you weren't even sure when he would end up opening it.

you sigh again, watching the puffed out air float through the air, courtesy of the cold.

passing by the couples on the street seemed to dampen your mood further.

how you wished caleb were here to accompany you like that.

you hurried your steps. all you wanted to do now was to get home and sleep the rest of the day away (only after setting up the rest of the decorations around the place).

your wish drifts away on the chilly evening air as you continue down the street, the ideas for decor placement and wrapping gifts filling your head.

-

when you decided to walk to do your errands today, you didn't expect to regret it when you realized just how much shopping you did, bags seeming to weigh you down with each step growing a little heavier as you approached your home.

you breathe a sigh of relief when the house comes into view, fishing out the key from your coat pocket as you finally reach the doorstep to your childhood home. you quickly insert the key and unlock the door with a click.

in your tired state, you don't fully register the pleasant smell wafting through the door as you nudge your way in, swiftly shutting it behind you with your foot and locking it out of habit before you begin the trek to your room.

you don't take notice of the humming in the kitchen floating through the living space as you push open the door to your bedroom and drop all the bags on the floor.

you don't notice the footsteps that make their way towards your bed shortly after you plop down on top of it, nuzzling into the soft blanket telling yourself just for a moment.

"no proper greeting for gege, pipsqueak? frankly, i'm hurt."

"..."

you think you must be dreaming.

you think you must miss caleb so badly without even realizing it that your thoughts are not only consumed by him, but now you're hearing his voice in the grips of your fatigue.

"are you going to keep pretending to be asleep? after gege cooked for you too...."

"..."

theres no way you're dreaming.

your eyes shoot open.

when they do, you're met with the sight of none other than caleb standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, head slightly tilted, expression somewhere between mock-pensive and teasing as he stares down at you.

"caleb?!"

his eyes glimmer with mischief.

"oh, so you are awake."

you bolt upright in bed, eyes wide.

"what ar- how- when did you get here???"

an airy chuckle leaves him at your stammering before he leans forward slightly.

"hmm.. a couple hours ago, give or take?"

you gape at him, still processing him standing right before you. he takes advantage of your shock and reaches a hand out, playfully ruffling your hair.

"but a certain hunter was too tired to notice until now..." he shakes his head in mock disdain. "how disappointing. do i mean so little to you?"

the hand that was reached out clutches over his heart when he says this, faux hurt expression taking over his features.

momentarily ignoring his jesting, you answer with another question.

"why didn't you tell me you were coming???" you mean to sound harsh, but it comes out whiny instead.

he wants to laugh at your tone, almost feeling bad for ignoring your messages to keep his arrival a secret.

"maybe," his hand moves towards his chin, a single index finger pointed up as it hovers over his lips.

"gege wanted to surprise you," he winks.

despite his teasing (that inwardly infuriates you to no end) you're so pleased to see him that, given the proximity, your arms reach forward, wrapping around his waist as your face falls into his chest before squeezing tight.

"h-hey, pipsqueak-"

caleb startles at the sudden action, peering down at you and hoping you can't hear how his heart has begun racing because of you.

but the affection is in no way unwelcome, something he makes sure to reciprocate as he slings one arm around your back, other hand reaching up to pat your head softly.

he sighs.

"did you really miss me that much?"

your voice is muffled, comfortably nuzzled into his chest.

"shut up, caleb."

he laughs again, holding you closer.

"i missed you, too."

his voice is a murmur against your hair, and you think you feel his lips graze the side of your head.

but you make no effort to move, and neither does he.

-

after your long drawn out hug is interrupted by your stomach rumbling, caleb teases you before grabbing one of your hands and leading you to the dining room to an array of prettily displayed dishes.

your mouth practically waters at the sight, taking a seat as your eyes slowly drag over everything, eager to get your hands on everything all at once.

"don't wait on my account, pipsqueak. dig in."

your gaze shifts from him, to the food, and then back, pausing for a moment.

"i'll just grab a-"

"ive got it, don't get up and eat already," he cuts you off, already next to the fridge grabbing two drinks and making his way back to the table, taking the seat in front of you.

you thank him before filling your plate with a little of everything, having missed his cooking after so long.

after spending some time catching up over the food (and your countless praises for caleb's cooking, all of which he laughed at, responding with "how do you manage without me for so long?") a certain question lingers in caleb's mind before finding the time to ask it.

"so, pipsqueak," he begins.

you grab your drink, glancing up at him to show you're listening.

"any of the hunters grab your attention?"

you tilt your head, bringing the cup closer to you.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean," a certain look takes over his eyes, but you're not sure what exactly it is.

"do you like anyone?"

you're so startled by the question that you sputter your drink before breaking into a small fit of coughs.

caleb scoots his chair back, ready to help you before you quickly calm down, gesturing that you're fine.

"woah, didn't mean for that to happen," he grins.

"why the hell would you ask me something like that???"

he shrugs.

"dunno. you're a cutie, so who knows, maybe someone took note of that and made a move?"

your heart flutters.

he thinks you're cute? or was he just teasing you again?

"so?"

you scoff.

"if you must know... the answer is no."

relief floods caleb's system, and he doesn't realize it overtakes his features as well before you add:

"why do you seem so pleased? do you want me to stay by myself forever or something?" you roll your eyes.

because i want you all to myself, he thinks.

"because id wanna make sure they're perfect for you," he lies, lazy grin spreading across his face.

you're the one who's perfect for me, you think.

but you don't say this, only playfully scoffing at his words before responding.

"yeah, right, you'd just scare them away."

damn right, he thinks, but only laughs in response.

"well, if they have a problem with me, then that's already a red flag, isn't it?"

"i guess so..."

you begin to pick at your food again when a thought crosses your mind.

if he's being nosy about my love life, does that mean i don't have a chance at all?

your heart sinks at the thought of losing him to someone else.

"well, what about you?"

"hm?"

you look up at him, gaze holding something like fiery determination- it throws him off.

"are you seeing anyone?"

he looks back at you, heart almost bursting at what seems like a jealous pout overtaking your face.

he smiles.

as if i could think of anyone but you.

"nope, nothing going on in my love life," he speaks plainly, and watches as you breathe a small sigh of relief, your eyes relaxing and lips morphing into a little grin as you look back down at your plate.

"oh," you say simply.

he thinks about teasing you, but lets you be for now as you happily continue chowing down on your homemade dinner.

a sight caleb wishes to witness every day, if given the chance.

-

after you help with washing the dishes (insistent in your begging, making caleb finally give in after countless minutes of trying to get you to rest and repeating how he could handle it), you both settle on the idea of watching a movie together in the living room.

after a quick well-needed rinse off and dressed in comfortable nightwear, you make your way to the living room.

somewhere in the midst of dinner, it had begun snowing outside, and despite being shielded from it indoors, a chill still somehow surrounded the living area, pulling a shiver from you.

"cold, pipsqueak?"

caleb is already sat on the sofa, one arm draped over the back of it grasping the remote, head propped up on his other fist as he browses through the selection of festive movies on the tv.

you nod quickly as you make your way towards him, noting the fluffy blanket draped over his lap.

you sit down, reaching for it before he stops you.

"hey, you're not the only one who's cold!"

"you're wearing sweatpants, how cold could you possibly be?"

"no one forced you to wear that cute little nightgown~"

"that's my blanket in the first place!"

"and who gifted it to you, huh?"

"you-!"

"just sit next to me so we can share it."

you blink.

"oh-"

"or... would you rather sit on my lap?"

you feel your face erupt into flames.

"wha- whe- why would you say that?!?"

he laughs at your embarrassment.

"what? its just like when we were kids, remember?"

while the offer is tempting, you're sure he's just teasing you again.

you settle for lifting the blanket on your side and scooting closer to him before draping it over yourself.

"yeah well... ill be just fine right here."

he shrugs, still smiling at you.

"suit yourself."

he clicks on a movie, the opening beginning to play when he pipes up again.

"but if you happen to change your mind-"

"like hell!" you whisper-shout in pure embarrassment, bringing the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.

he laughs again when the actual movie begins, a comfortable silence enveloping the space as you both watch the starting scene.

-

about fifteen minutes into the movie, you're only acutely aware of what's taking place onscreen.

while his eyes have been glued to the screen, yours have had trouble doing the same, drifting over to seemingly study caleb's side profile before catching yourself and redirecting your attention.

over and over and over again.

he knows you think he doesn't notice, but he's fighting a smirk and teasing comment, reveling in the attention you're giving him, wanting to bask in it for a little longer while simultaneously hoping you'll make some kind of move.

. . .

thirty minutes into the movie, youre not sure you can take it anymore.

after inwardly fighting with yourself for the past ten minutes, you decide to inch closer to him, having the cold as an excuse ready to use (should he say anything) and hoping the dim lighting of the living area (courtesy of caleb, insisting that movies are always better in the dark) will hide your movement enough so he doesn't notice in the first place.

you clench the blanket closer to you as you make your move.

his eyes are still glued to the screen.

he doesn't notice.

five minutes pass.

you shuffle a little bit closer.

"..."

he still doesn't seem to notice.

with the way you're sitting, your knees will knock together if you move any closer.

so you shift your sitting position.

five more minutes pass, and you inch closer once more.

your eyes locked on the screen, you don't quite catch his side glance before he refocuses.

he holds in a laugh.

he's noticed each movement, but finds it cute that you think he hasn't, but can't tell if you want him to or not.

so he shifts his own position, now leaning a little closer your way, and waits.

five more minutes pass.

you glance to the side.

he smirks.

when you go to close the rest of the distance, he turns to you, causing you to freeze. he uses the opportunity to grab your cheeks with one hand and force your gaze to meet his.

"getting a little close there, pipsqueak."

his voice is a low murmur, a pleasant disturbance in the quiet that surrounded you both, but given your proximity you hear it that much clearer, heart rate picking up at being caught.

"i was-"

"what? you were cold?"

you jolt at his ability to see right through you.

"i told you," he leans closer to your ear before whispering.

"if you changed your mind, to let me know."

he pulls back enough to look at you again, and feels his face go warm.

here you are, so close to him, eyes open and honest as emotion swirls within them, cheeks squished cutely with his soft yet firm grip on them, lips slightly puckered because of it-

he tries to steady his breathing.

and it seems like, for once today, you could read his mind this time.

"caleb..." the way his name sounds from your lips right now- so breathy and sweet- does something to him.

he releases your cheeks, hand slipping to one side to cup one instead.

"what would happen if i just..." he trails off, his eyes trained on your lips.

his voice is just barely audible, but you hear it with the closeness.

you think you might die right here.

"try it," you urge, voice a pleading whisper.

he meets your eyes again and his look suddenly hardens.

"dodge if you don't want this."

those are the last words he utters before slowly moving in, tilting his head and shutting his eyes.

your eyes widen when his lips meet yours, eyes slowly slipping shut before you reciprocate, lips melding together perfectly, longingly, as if you'd both waited an eternity for this moment.

you slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer- and invitation to devour your lips whole.

the kiss gets more intense with each passing second, so caught in your lips moving in sync that you barely register being lightly pushed down against the soft cushions of the sofa, caleb following as he now hovers above you, chasing after your lips the entire way.

you're not sure how much time has passed before he finally pulls away from you, breaths heavy as he marvels down at you.

your gown is in slight disarray, chest rising up and down as you catch your own breath, eyes slightly glazed over and lips shiny and slightly swollen from him.

but youre staring up at him as that cute little smile curls on your lips, making him want to dive right back in.

"wow," you breathe out, no other words to describe the moment coming to your hazy mind.

"wow," caleb mimics. "you all warmed up now?" he pants.

you pout, hitting his arm lightly.

"so cruel..." he jokes, hand moving to pet your head.

he stares, admiring you for a minute before breathing out a laugh.

"man, am i glad you didn't dodge."

you look up at him, confusion swimming in your irises as a small frown makes its way to your lips.

"why would i?"

his heart stutters.

"well, even if you liked me that much, i didn't think you'd actually make a move."

your eyes widen, and despite the initial urge to bite back at his words, you decide to be honest since everything is out on the table, despite your rapidly racing heart.

"its all i've ever wanted."

god, he thinks he could die right now and be a happy man as his soul flies free.

"s' that why you were so jealous earlier at the mention of love lives?"

you huff, looking to the side.

"well, since you asked first, i figured it meant there was no hope for me."

you're just too cute, he thinks.

"in my case, i needed to check if there was anyone i needed to beat up."

your eyes fly back to him.

"caleb!"

"what? you think im joking, but i mean it."

he leans down close again, noses almost touching.

"if someone else had caught your interest, im not sure what i'd do with myself..."

a smile graces your face once more as you look up at him through your lashes.

"well," you whisper, "good thing i'm all yours."

an hour and fifteen minutes into the movie and it plays forgotten, background noise to a new love that blooms right before it. and in the midst of it all, despite the agonizing amount of time it took to get here, you both could spend christmas together in the way you'd always wanted: as devoted lovers.

-

epilogue:

"actually, i got you something!"

"oh? you didn't have to.."

"you say that every year, but you know i do anyways."

"well, what is it this time?"

"you'll just have to wait to open it~"

your expression turns worried suddenly.

"i just hope that you'll like it..."

noting this, he grips your chin, turning your head towards him before placing a chaste kiss onto your lips.

"pipsqueak, you're already the greatest christmas gift i could have gotten. whatever it is you bought for me, i'll love it for sure."

you feel relief and tingles flood your system all at once.

"okay," you breathe, giving him a kiss back.

come christmas, he's pleased at the silly 'kiss the cook' apron (that he knows will now be put to good use), a new cutlery set, and a pretty iron ring that adorns his middle finger.

you yourself are pleased with the anklet with an apple charm, as well as a cute apple phone charm that you waste no time in strapping onto your phone.

but despite the gifts, you both agree that the greatest gift was each other.

-

a/n: wanted to release this earlier but jumped between two other drafts n procrastinated on this one oops... caleb kissers this one is for you in honor of him (seemingly) being added as a LI soon :x i absolutely did not mean to make this as long as i did LOL the music i listen to while writing really gets me in the zone...... its christmas when i post this ,so merry christmas to those who celebrate <3 im going to try my absolute hardest to at least get the sylus fic out later today if nothing else ,i have sm ideas..... -

[crappy-writings]

Christmas Present

Kate Bishopxfem!reader // Fluff

*Images are not mine, credit to their sources and creators

Summary: It’s Christmas morning and Kate has a surprise for you.

Content Warning: None?

Word Count: 1,394

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays for all who don’t! This is a stupid little idea that I loved and decided to write. It was originally supposed to be longer, but the idea came to me way too late and had no time (and motivation tbh) to write it. Still, hope you enjoy!

This is not proofread, so I apologize for any misspellings, repeated words and ideas.

Main Masterlist | MCU Fics | Recced Fics

The first thing you noticed when waking up was the coolness of the opposite side of the bed. The pillow empty and undented, the soft, plush blanket having been made, despite you still being under it.

The second thing you noticed was the soft streaks of daylight peeking from behind the industrial windows of Kate’s apartment.

The third and final thing you noticed was the smell of a pine tree candle wafting in from the open door to your room. Faint sounds of popping and crackling reached your ears, as well as the soft ticking of paws on the floor and metal clicking against metal.

Something cold and wet pressed against your hand, before quickly transitioning to a fluffy fur coat.

A soft moan escaped your throat as you struggled to remain awake, your eyes fluttering open and closed while trying to focus on the golden retriever that was trying to get your attention.

“Hey, Lucky,” your voice came out a decibel lower and croaky, sleep still doing its best to pull you back under, “Merry Christmas, bud.”

The golden retriever lifted his head off the bed, his mouth hanging open in a doggy smile while his tail swished happily from side to side.

You couldn’t help the affectionate smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. You reached out to pet the soft, golden fur of the retriever, but you were instead met with an overexcited, wet tongue licking at your fingers.

“No, stop,” you laugh, guiding your hand away quickly to avoid getting any more slobber on you.

Instead, Lucky jumped onto your stomach, completely knocking the wind out of you. You let out a groan as the large retriever makes himself comfortable, slotting himself next to your side and laying his head on your chest with a little huff.

“You’re heavy,” you comment with a soft giggle. Lucky must have taken offense, because he lets out a grumble and nudges you with his nose.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” You run your fingers through the bridge of his nose all the way to the top of his head. He huffs in content, settling his head back on your chest.

“Hey, where’d your mama go, huh?” You asked Lucky after about ten minutes of petting his soft fur.

The retriever replied with a soft whine, lifting his head off of your chest. He stands from beside you and jumps to the floor, stretching forwards for a few seconds before standing upright. The loft is then filled with the sound of soft clicking of his nails hitting against the floor as he climbs down the stairs. Your brows furrow slightly as you stare after him, curiosity nipping at the back of your mind.

“Where’re you going?”

Miss-matched socks hit the floor, padding quietly after Lucky, your blanket wrapped around your shoulders and dragging along behind you.

You stared at the Christmas light wrapped railing of the stairs up at the loft as you walked down, the twinkling Christmas lights served as a nice complement to the lit up tree near the kitchenette. The TV had been left on with a video of a fireplace playing, adding to the already cozy atmosphere of Kate’s apartment.

The living room was empty when you walked down, save for Lucky, who had jumped onto the couch and stretched himself across the length of it. He lets out a satisfied huff, his eyes opening and closing a few times before he dozes off to sleep. Your legs hit the back of the couch as you stared down at hum, laughing quietly at the dog’s disposition.

“You look cozy.”

Your head whipped towards where the voice came from and you don’t know how you had managed to miss her until now.

Kate was sitting right beside the Christmas tree, wearing a giant box, decorated with Christmas-themed wrapping paper and a giant bow on top of her head. She wore a goofy grin, her eyes shining with joy and mischief. Her arms hung out the holes she had cut out at either side of the box and she sent you a cute, static wave, her movements limited by her confines of the cardboard.

“What–” you interrupted your own question as a wave of laughter took over. “What are you wearing?”

“What, you don’t like it?” Kate giggles, her smile widening.

“No, that's—” you laugh again,“it’s amazing.”

You close the distance between the both of you, reaching your hands out to grab onto hers. “How did you even get in there?”

“The good ol’ crawl and shimmy,” she answered, grabbing onto your hands, swinging them lightly from side to side.

“And how do you plan on standing up?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You, of course,” she lets go of your hands and puts them up above her head. “Help me up?”

You rolled your eyes at her, but the smile on your face was impossible to wipe away.

“Where would you be without me, Bishop?” You tease, pulling her up to her feet. You now noticed that she had cut out the bottom of the box, the bottoms of her white and red polka dot pajama pants rolling down to rest at her ankles.

“Probably laying in a ditch somewhere.” Kate stumbles slightly, unaccustomed to the box that hugged her, “Hey, baby.”

“Hi,” you match her sweet tone, resisting the urge to lean over and plant a kiss on her lips, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you saw her eyes flicker downward for a second before settling on your eyes one more.

You fight off the grin curling at the edges of your mouth by biting the inside of your lip.

“So, are you my Christmas present?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, pulling her as close as possible. You run a finger along her neck and up to her chin, gently stroking the corner of her mouth with your thumb.

“Yes, I am.” Kate’s cheeks had turned to a light shade of pink and it was her turn to bite her bottom lip.

“Well, I absolutely adore it.” You stand up on your tippy toes and lean forwards, your lips hovering over hers. Ever the impulsive and impatient girl, Kate leans forwards, capturing your lips in a soft and gentle kiss.

“Since when have you been planning this?” you asked shortly after pulling away from her.

“Yesterday. I ordered your present online and it got delayed ‘til the twenty-ninth,” she informed, hiding her arms away inside the box, lifting it up and over her head. The cardboard thudded softly onto the floor as she discarded it off to the side, revealing her Grinch-themed pajama shirt.

“I don’t care, I have you here,” you wrap your arms, and the blanket that is still hanging on your shoulders, around her and pull her close to you. You send her a sweet smile her way, your eyes holding an unsurmounted amount of love.

In turn, Kate’s gaze made it seem like there was nothing else in the world but you.

A bark and a grumble interrupted the moment and both your heads swivelled towards Lucky, who was now sitting up on the couch and staring up at the both of you. “And Lucky, of course,” you chuckle softly, breaking away from Kate’s embrace to pet Lucky’s golden fur.

“Plus, I may have accidentally left your present at my apartment,” you add sheepishly, looking up from the retriever to the raven-haired girl.

Your eyes trailed up to the top of her head where the decorative gift wrap bows still clung to her hair. A laugh threatens to escape you as you pad towards her. You push a few strands of hair from her face, before pulling the bow off from the top of her head.

“You look silly without the box.” You walk towards Lucky and place the bow on top of his head instead.

“I take offense to that,” Kate touts, but the way the corners of her mouth quirk upwards prove she isn’t actually upset about it. You cup the side of her face with your hand and run your thumb over her cheek in a soothing motion.

“Aw, I’m sure you do, baby,” you coo softly with a giggle, before giving her a quick peck on her lips.

“You want some hot cocoa?”

“Hell yeah.”

[lykegenia]

2024 Writing Roundup

tagged by @juneiper-art - thank you!

words posted: 73,510

additional words written: between all the buffer chapters in my longfics plus a few sundry bits it's at least 30k

grand total of words: just over 100k altogether, I think

fandoms: Dragon Age, The Wayhaven Chronicles, and a backstory short story for one of my DnD characters

highest kudos: Rosemary and Citrus, a Rookanis slow burn retelling of Veilguard that's already grown far past its original scope

highest hit oneshot: He Makes Her Cry (He Doesn't Like It), my first foray into MasonxF!Detective from TWC, set during Book Three

new things I tried: I mostly stick to my habits, though with Rosemary and Citrus I've been posting as I go and trying to stick to a proper schedule, which is unusual for me.

fic I spent the most time on: As The World Falls Down, my AU retelling of Dragon Age Origins in which Alistair was raised by the Couslands instead of going to the templars

fic I spent the least time on: He Makes Her Cry, but only because it's so short compared to the others

favorite thing I wrote: This whole upcoming chapter for As The World Falls Down, really, but here's a sneak preview:

Cautiously, he wended his way through the shadows to Eamon’s office, girded by his imagination and the knowledge that getting caught couldn’t be worse than whatever fate was being decided for him just beyond the door. Even before he rounded the final corner, he caught the timbre of angry male voices spilling out into the hallway, and as he edged closer along the wall so that the squeak of floorboards would not betray him he strained his ears to make out the words. “– told her he sleeps in the kennels, that he gets only scraps from the cook! There is no answer for it.” The voice held a note of familiarity, but one that Alistair could not place over the shock of hearing himself so vehemently defended. “Regardless of where you get your information, this is not a matter within your purview,” came a terse reply – Eamon, in a tone low and deep with disapproval. “That is your concern here?” demanded the first voice. “I made enquiries after what I saw that day. I must say, you kept him well hidden, but that does not excuse you. Had I entrusted one of my children to the care of another, only to find them so poorly mistreated, the person responsible would find themselves very sorry indeed.” “You told me the boy was cared for.” This was a third voice, the second stranger who had ridden into the yard. “You assured me it would be so.” “I have done more for him than any would rightfully expect me to, given the circumstances,” Eamon retorted. “I have even secured him a future in a role worthy of respect –” “You wanted to make a problem disappear and thought the templars would be the easiest way to explain it.” “How dare –” “Enough!” The third voice sounded angry, and weary. “Eamon, I should have been consulted before you spoke with Knight-Captain Renwick.” “Consulted?” the second voice scoffed. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but –” All three went silent. Too late, Alistair clapped his hand over his mouth. He backed away from the door, the imaginary echo of his gasp ringing in his ears. Whichever way he tried to run, the hallway was too long, he wouldn’t be fast enough to get out of sight before –

favorite thing(s) I read: I've done a lot more reading this year, but I'm limiting it to three:

Kiss Me Moonstruck by @theluckywizard - I'm in love with this Garrett Hawke, who manages to be a famed mercenary at the same time as a complete sap and a passable wit, and the premise of the story happens to tick all of my favourite romance tropes

Attachment Theory by @thee-morrigan - Everything about this Natex F!Detective AU is rich and delicious and the imagery is gorgeous

Sanguine by @effelants - If you want an Alistair whose characterisation is on point, then this is the fic for you. The Changes to the plot of the game keep the story fresh, and the mystery around Moira is a very compelling dive into the lore around magic and spirits

writing goals for 2025: be more consistent with actually writing, try to get my word count up, and actually go back to the longfics I've been neglecting and start posting again

new works:

Patience, And Words, And Waterfalls - TWC, musing on Leah's inability to tell Nate how she feels

Mercies - The battle for Haven, with the feelings starting to show between Cullen and Maighread Trevelyan

He Makes Her Cry

Rosemary and Citrus

Tagging forward to everyone already mentioned, plus @vela-ad-astra @athenasdragon @serenpedac @naiatabris and @lalizah - no pressure!

[pfhwrittes]

the aftermath.

rating: mature audiences.

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x simon "ghost" riley.

word count: 1.8k

notable tags / warnings: transgender john "soap" mactavish, fluff, humour, very light angst, references to offscreen sex, egregious use of scots, banter, swearing.

A/N: i wrote this instead of sleeping, it was meant to be the set up for another part of my trans!soap drabbles but it took a wild left turn into feelsville and so no actual smut occurs in this fic. however, it is funny and fluffy (in my opinion). as always this can be considered to be very lightly edited so typos and weird grammatical goofs are likely to remain so for that i apologise.

–––

unsurprisingly, it’s kyle that catches on and confronts him the following afternoon as johnny pushes some truly god awful looking peas around his tray in the mess. 

“so, who’d you fuck last night then mate?” 

kyle plunks himself into the seat opposite johnny, dropping his tray with a clatter. the shepherd’s pie on his tray sags slightly and johnny feels a disarming bolt of empathy for the oozing mince and potato blob. sue him, he’s still feeling a little tender in places, alright? not that he’ll be admitting that to garrick of all people. 

“dunno what you’re oan about pal.” johnny sniffs and pokes a particularly dehydrated pea with his fork. there we go, nice and breezy. no need to give the game away son. 

kyle scoffs and aims a kick at johnny’s shin under the table. 

“oi! ya fuckin’ roaster, the fuck wis that for!” 

“i know you fucked someone last night. price was complaining about the stink in his office this morning.” kyle points his fork at johnny’s chest accusingly.

well, shit. johnny knew he should’ve got simon to crack the window before he got fucked seven ways from sunday. again, not that garrick needed to know that particular practical tid-bit of organising a secret rendez-vouz with your superior officer. 

johnny clears his throat nonchalantly and picks the spot over kyle’s left ear to address. 

“who’s to say it wasnae the captain gettin’ some last night?” 

the look kyle directs at johnny could probably be used to store clean cut finnish ice directly from fucking lapland with how freezing it is. 

“because he was with me, you tosspot.” 

johnny can’t help the way his face slips from carefully blank neutrality into something a wee bit more salacious. 

“oh aye, is that right?” johnny abandons looking at kyle’s ear to shoot him the dirtiest smirk he can muster. 

“fuck off mactavish.” kyle scowls, “you know what i meant. he was watching the bloody footie with me.”

“is that what you kids are callin’ it these days, eh?” johnny waggles his eyebrows knowingly just to watch kyle glare even harder as he leans forwards to stab johnny in the chest with his fork. 

“hey! mind the nipples, they’re fuckin’ custom! i spent money on these things!” johnny pouts and rubs gingerly at his top, pulling a face as he smears mashed potato into the fabric. gross garrick. 

“shut up, you got ‘em on the NHS like everyone else, you dickhead.” kyle shoots back.

what was sure to be a brilliantly witty retort gets silenced as price appears from nowhere, glowering down at his two sergeants like he’s just found two of his wayward puppies rolling in something long dead and incredibly pungent. 

“mactavish. a word.” 

johnny gulps and shoots kyle a betrayed look as soon as price’s back is turned. 

“oh sorry mate. must’ve slipped my mind. captain’s looking for you.” kyle grins, looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt in that clever wee mouth of his. 

bastard. 

––

johnny does not fidget. not even once. he’s cool, he’s calm, he’s co-

“it was reported that you were seen leaving this office - my office - at 0300 hours this morning, sergeant.” price rumbles from behind the - his - desk. 

-mpletely and utterly fucked. 

and not in the way he was only twelve hours previous. in this very room. over that very same desk. steamin’ jesus. 

johnny pointedly does not meet price’s gaze, instead he continues staring at the cinderblock behind his captain’s shoulder like it contains the secrets of the universe. or perhaps a false brick that when nudged just right would open a portal to hell under his feet. 

the chair under price’s bulk creaks as he settles back, watching for any sign of guilt or admission. the cigar propped on the edge of the cut glass ashtray sends a smoky tendril into the air as it drifts lazily to the window that johnny can see is cracked open a fraction in his peripheral vision. 

“nothing to say, sergeant?” price’s voice is deceptively soft and a shudder runs up johnny’s spine unbidden. fuuuuuuck. the way he sees it, he’s either fucked once if he admits to being somewhere he very much shouldn’t have been with company he definitely shouldn’t have been fraternising with, or fucked twice if he tries to deny it without knowing all the facts. he is, as the big bastard himself would say, in a spot tighter than a nun’s cunt. 

johnny swallows drily, preparing to take possibly the stupidest risk of his career and possibly his life so far, when a solid knock on the closed door saves him. thank christ. his heart soars - 

“enter.” price commands. 

almost immediately the hulking figure and current cause of johnny’s predicament steps through the door near silently to stand shoulder to shoulder with johnny. just a hair too close to be considered professional.

“lieutenant riley, good of you to join us.” 

- and promptly falls out his arse. 

good to know that there was a third and far worse option available to him. 

––

centuries or possibly even aeons later, a knock rouses johnny from the light doze he’d slipped into immediately after clambering into the tiny twin bed provided in his room. sent away from price’s office in disgrace, the sounds of his shouting still ringing in his ears. but even worse, the way that simon - ghost - simon had refused to even look at johnny before he turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor. away from him.

“nngh.” johnny grunts intelligently and swipes a slightly tacky palm over his face before letting it drop to brush against the worn carpet tiles. fuck getting up to let price in here to yell at him some more, or to deal with gaz’s kicked puppy look. he’ll stay exactly where he is ta very much, despite the way a spring in the lumpy mattress is poking into his right kidney something fierce. and the fact that now he’s awake he could do with a drink to rinse away the gummy feeling in his mouth. eurgh. 

the knock sounds again. 

“fer fucks sake, come in then ya -” johnny calls out grumpily, lifting his head from the pillow and his eyes flying open so he can glare at the door from his supine position.

and once again, simon “here to make shit worse for him specifically” riley steps through the door.

“- prick.” johnny finishes weakly. oh. well this is awkward. 

simon hums quietly in agreement and quietly shuts the door with his foot. johnny blinks, not entirely sure if he’s agreeing with being called a prick or if the situation is awkward. 

“bit o’ both really.” simon rumbles. ah, right yeah. johnny’s always had a habit of saying the first few thoughts that pop into his head immediately after being woken up. always makes one night stands a bit awkward in the mornings. 

“hm. is that the reason you’ve never let me stay the night then?” simon asks as he drops heavily into the tactically acquired chair in the corner of the room paying no mind to the fact he’s sitting on johnny’s freshly laundered skivvies. 

“somethin’ like that, aye.” johnny swallows awkwardly, christ he needs a drink of water, “that an’ i thought we’d get -” 

“caught.” simon finishes tiredly. 

johnny huffs out a sound that if he was being charitable could be considered a laugh under the right circumstances. this isn’t the right circumstances. obviously.  

“aye. yeah. that an’ all.” 

a silence stretches between the two of them then. it’s uncomfortable to say the least, aching in a similar way to johnny’s neck as he continues to peer at simon, who is sagging like a half-empty rucksack. johnny lets his head drop back onto the flat pillow underneath him so he can gaze sightlessly up at the water stained ceiling tile. what a fuckin’ mess. 

“‘m sorry.” 

it’s said so quietly johnny could half believe he imagined it. 

“‘s not yer fault, don’t worry about it.” johnny says flatly to the water mark on the ceiling. he closes one eye and squints, hm. looks a bit like a pair of knickers like that. johnny hears simon take a steadying breath from across the space. oh. johnny opens both eyes and lifts his head, his expression carefully blank. 

simon is hunched over now, his elbows resting on his thick thighs and he’s staring fixedly at the carpet just in front of his boots, purposefully avoiding johnny’s eyes. 

“simon?” it’s a gentle nudge but johnny watches as simon’s broad shoulders tense up, his biceps flexing as he fidgets with his clasped hands. oh. that’s more of an admission of guilt or responsibility than anything simon could say. johnny knows this man, inside and out at this point. he’s economical with movement in a way that can only ever be learned through being completely aware of your size and surroundings. never a fidgeter. always still. always controlled. 

“‘m sorry.” simon repeats quietly, allowing his head to hang down and exposing the soft nape of his neck where his balaclava gapes away from his shirt. in better circumstances johnny would get up and chance a kiss on his exposed skin just to hear him make a soft pleased noise that always reminds johnny of a cat purring out a raspy mrrr of contentment.

“did ye go to price an’ tell him then?” johnny asks levelly despite the way his heart has suddenly decided to reside in his large intestine again for the second time today.

simon’s head jerks up and he frowns. 

“no - i - no.” simon states firmly and johnny takes a shuddering breath. good. 

“good.” he says out loud. “i didnae think ye would.” johnny tacks on just to watch some of the tension in simon’s shoulders leak away. the urge to comfort simon wells up behind johnny’s ribs, it’s a tender thing and it makes johnny’s breath hitch a little unsteadily. he sighs dramatically to cover it and flops his head back onto the pillow again. 

“c’mon then, get over here ya big bastard.” johnny orders faux-peevishly. 

“what.” 

johnny groans and rolls his eyes. simon can be unbelievably dense when it comes to intimacy that doesn’t involve being bent over the nearest suitable surface sometimes. 

“‘mon then, i want a cuddle before price decides to split us up for the rest of our careers.” johnny raises his arms and makes a grabbing motion much like a wee toddler would to demand being picked up. johnny tries not to be insulted when that seems to be the reason that simon hefts himself to his feet to stand awkwardly at the side of the bed. 

“‘m not gonna fit.” he states and johnny rolls his eyes again. 

“sure ye will, just don’t squash my tits, alright?”

there’s a pause before simon states in his usual blunt manner - 

“how th’ fuck am i meant to do that, you ‘ad ‘em chopped off at eighteen.” 

and for some reason that makes johnny burst into relieved laughter. 

aye, they’ll be alright.

[tearsonmarz]

Scarian Flirting and Fishing pt. 1

“Are you alright?” Raising his head Grian looked up to see a guy with brown hair and muddy green eyes examining at him.

“I’m fine.” He brushed off, going through the items he had acquired in the past hour. “Where did a put that flint and— ah!” Muttering to himself- trying to not pay any mind to the weird guy watching over him- he lit a fire and began to prepare his lunch.

“You don’t exactly seem fine.” Grian shot a look at him before rolling his eyes and going back to his cooking. The brunette cleared his throat before walking towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“Your logs seemed a little out of place. Wouldn’t want to burn yourself now, would you?”

“It’s fine, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you just mind your own business.” He scoffed, fixing the logs himself and shooing away the stranger.

“I’d love to, but sadly I’m cursed with wanting to help people. Especially wanderers who can take care of themselves.” The stranger shot Grian a wink to his disgust.

Deciding to ignore the man, he put is food to cook before going back to looking through his haul. Name tags, saddles, boots, bottles, fish, junk, junk and more junk. Nothing of interest and certainly not what he was hoping to find. After roaming the stream for an hour you’d think he’d find something of note, but nope! Just more trash he’d have to toss out once it had accumulated enough to be dragged instead of carried.

“So... what are you hoping to find.” A yelp came out of Grian, he stared daggers into the man hovering over him.

“What is wrong with you? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Sorry, you just seemed so lost in thought, you didn’t even realize your food was finished.” The stranger chuckled to himself as red painted Grian’s ears.

“You could’ve just said so.” He pouted, earning a grin from the man.

“Does this mean I can stick around?”

“I’d like it if you didn’t, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you won’t listen.”

“Ah, you already know me so well. I can already tell we’re going to get along.” Without another word, he went to sit down next to Grian. “I’m Scar by the way. What’s your name?”

“Grian” He spoke in between bites.

“That’s a bit of an odd name. It’s suits you.”

There was something about this guy that Grian couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t know him, but every fiber of his being was telling him this man was going to cause him quite a bit of trouble. Then again, anyone who tried to openly flirt with the first person they see, is bound to bring trouble wherever they go.

“Now that we’re acquainted, do you mind telling me what you’re looking for?” Grian slowed his chewing, pausing to think about whether or not to tell him. They had just met afterall, there was really no point in telling him. It’s not like this guy was going to stick around for very long.

“Uhm… It’s a little personal—”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. But I guess that’s what I get for being a little nosy.” Scar laughed it off. Even though it felt like he had messed up, Grian did appreciate him backing off.

“Well, I will say, it’s just a book. Nothing too special. Just something that I need.” This much should be fine right?

“A bit odd, but I guess it’s fitting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just... You seem a bit unusual? Not in a bad way! Just out of the ordinary. I don’t know what I’m saying half of the time, so don’t mind me.” Shaking his head, he drew himself forward. “I didn’t mean anything of it. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Without another word, Grian packed away his things and grabbed his fishing rod. Returning to the river, he sighed hoping for something different to be caught on his line.

“Was that sigh for me or for you?”

“Me. Do you just never make any noise when you move?”

“I’m quick, and fast like a cat. Of course, I’m not going to make any noise—” He stumbled as Grian turned to him.

“Obviously not as graceful.” Grian smirked, “You might do with a couple of dancing lessons.”

“Oh, I don’t dance. That is unless you want to teach me?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” He reeled in his line after feeling a bite, already knowing it was just another fish.

“I’d think I’m better company than all these fish you’re catching.”

“At least they’re quieter than you are.”

“Ouch, sick of me already? It’s hardly been any time at all.”

“Feels like forever.” Grian whispered underneath his breath before casting his line again.

“Already talking about our future? You must be a man after my heart.”

Part Two

[to-indeed-be-a-godd]

La Vie en rose

Neil sighed his head beginning to hurt from studying the words against the script, he had practically all his lines memorized except for the few spoken in french, specifically when his character was meant to hold an entire conversation in the language.

“je…sais..que-que je-“

he groaned unable to pronounce the words taking a deep breath and repeating them.

“je sais …que je t'aime..” He said the words finally able to pronounce them as the familiar blond walked into their room raising an eyebrow surprised.

“You speak french?” Todd asked shyly setting his things down on the bed as Neil sighed toss the script back on his bed.

“I wish, i have to say things in french for this play i’m doing” the blond made a small o shape with his mouth before taking the book from his desk and playing his walkman as he read, his face focused as a stray piece of hair dangled over his eyes, Neil’s fingers burned to tuck the stray strand of hair behind the others ear but held back still reciting the words over and over.

“je sais que je t'aime”

Eventually it began rolling off his tongue a bit however his accent was anything but believable as he sighed his headache getting worse each time he repeated his he phrase till finally his roommate set down his book and stood up.

“You aren’t saying it correctly.” He said bluntly looking at Neil before holding his hand out for Neil to give him the script which he handed over.

Todd read it carefully, “je sais que je t'aime, n'est-ce pas suffisant?” the words rolled off his tongue leaving Neil in a state of shock and completely flustered, as if this boy couldn’t get anymore perfect.

“i’m sorry…you speak french?!” He stumbled over his words looking at Todd a mix of excitement and shock.

“I learned a bit growing up…” He replied sheepishly handing Neil back the script.

“wait wait so how do you say it?” Neil asked because he needed to know how to pronounce the words and not because his roommate speaking french was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

“je sais..” he said waiting for Neil to repeat after him the two following along with the other through each word.

“je sais que je t'aime, n'est-ce pas suffisant” Todd said again and Neil repeated in a good enough way that Todd gave him a proud smile.

“What does it mean anyways?” Neil asked curiously noticing the slight blush against the others features, god this boy had Neil’s heart doing backflips every second.

“Oh..I know i love you…isn’t that enough?” He mumbled sitting back down against his bed as Neil thought for a second.

“so i love you is?” he asked knowing how dangerous this game he was playing was but so desperate to hear the words come from the others mouth.

“Je vous aime” Todd said softly his eyes meeting Neil’s and oh god Neil’s heart might have stopped.

“je vos-“ he tried to say it knowing he was butchering the pronunciation.

“Je vous aime” The blond repeated slower as Neil stepped closer as they both fell into a rhythm of Todd repeating the words as Neil stepped closer trying to mimic it until Neil was practically standing between Todd’s legs neither breaking eye contact.

“Je vous aime” Todd’s voice was so small practically a whisper that made Neil’s heart sing, there was little Neil loved more then acting but for Todd, Neil would give the world for Todd, he’d give anything to hear him utter those words once more.

“puis-je t'embrasser?” Neil had no clue what he had said all he knew it sounded like a question and all he could do was silently nod before he felt soft lips press against his.

It was sweet and soft but desperate and affectionate, like both of them had been wishing for this for an eternity.

Neil was kissing the most beautiful boy he had ever met, and who apparently spoke french.

[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[aeligsido]

practice date

(so I got his idea and had to like, write it a bit. I may end up reworking it a bit and posting it on ao3 later if I feel like it. No particular two — just Remus being oblivious and Sirius, for once, missing the writing on the wall lmao.)

-

It all started because of fucking Frank Longbottom. He didn't know how or why, but Frank took Remus out on a date once during their fourth year — right before Frank and Alice started dating, too — and after that, Remus somehow became the most eligible person in all of Hogwarts. Even Slytherins ended up victims of this pandemic.

It pissed Sirius off. Remus was a kind person, sure, and adorable and pretty and smart and gentle and with a humor to die for and so much more mischievous than at first glance and definitely more than date worthy; but for some reason, those people only ever took him out once and then broke it off immediately after. They even started dating other people after! Properly dating, even, not just a trip to Hogsmeade followed by a goodbye-see-you-never, like they did to Remus. It wasn't fair. Remus deserved better than that — he deserved to be taken care of, to have someone to hold his hand and go to the bookstore with him and buy him his favorite apple pie. Not... that.

(Sirius could be this person for Remus.)

Last time, he went with Mary — again, because she was the exception to the rule and often went out with him without deeming him worthy to give him the title of boyfriend. Well. Five times. Five times was a lot! But, last time — last time they went to Madam Puddifoot together once more, but were back laughing at the Three Broomsticks pretty soon in the day, joining them for the rest of the trip. When they separated in the common room, Mary had kissed his cheek and thanked him with a sweet smile, but yet again nothing came out of it.

Sirius was pretty angry at her — at all of them, really. Why did they all feel necessary to play with Remus' heart like that?

He was sitting on his bed, now, on the eve of a new Hogsmead's weekend, angrily wondering who was taking Moony out this time — and perhaps who will be the next target of his pranks. James was going in and out of the bathroom, apparently doing a skincare routine (or something of the like) that managed to take longer than his usual morning routine. Peter was sitting on his bed as well, books open before him, taking notes probably for some homework. Remus was putting on the good shirt he usually wears for his dates.

"So," he started, gripping his pillow tightly. "Going out again, Moony?"

"Hm?" Remus raised his head to address him with a smile. "Yeah, I think it'll be fun."

He was always saying that.

"Who you're going with?"

"Me!" cheered James from the bathroom door.

Sirius blinked. Because, he couldn't have heard that — right? James — his best friend, the other half of his soul — could not do that to him, to Remus?

Peter looked up, suddenly more interested.

Remus smiled indulgently. "Hence the it's going to be fun, you know?"

"But—" Sirius didn't have the time to formulate everything in him — the pit in his stomach and in his heart and the bubbling, ugly feelings taking a hold on his throat — that Moony was already interrupting him.

"Don't worry, Pads. I'll send him back to you at five o'clock sharp." He winked, then, as if it was Sirius' concern at the moment.

"I've been told Moony's the best at it," continued James, apparently ignoring the chaos choking Sirius up. "Our boy comes highly recommended!" He blew up a kiss in Remus' direction, who just shook his head fondly.

"Recommended?" Sirius finally croaked out, trying to make sense of the whole thing.

James properly got out of the bathroom, then, taking a look at him with concern on his face. "You know? For the practice date? Before my real date with Lily next week?" His expression turned dreamy for a moment. "I can't believe I have a date with her," he sighed happily.

Shuffling closer to them, Remus lowered his voice. "I have a practice date with Lily after James. She was pretty anxious when she asked me." He smiled, then, again, as if nothing could make him happier than being a practice date.

Was that what he had been doing this whole time? Giving people practice dates?

Sirius frowned. Remus having so many one-time dates didn't sit well with him, but having so many practice dates didn't seem really fair either.

"How many were real?"

"How many what were real?" asked Remus, confused.

"You know, the dates."

Remus let out a short, surprised laugh. Sirius pursued his lips, unamused, and Remus calmed down at his unusual gravity.

"None? It's not like anyone would want to really date me, anyway." He gestured to himself, as if it was explanation enough — which it wasn't, Sirius wanted to date this whole... Remusness, thank you very much. Remus was amazing, why wouldn't people want to date him?

Sirius couldn't answer — it didn't know if he could actually say anything to that. Remus got distracted by James, anyway, and soon they were leaving them behind for their practice date.

Sirius put his face into his pillow and let out an angry yell.

From his bed, Peter turned a page of his book, utterly unbothered but still a cheeky bastard. The clear amusement in his next words was proof enough of it.

"So, do you want me to be your practice date for when Moony'll realize you're trying to ask him out, or you'll take Prongs?"

Sirius threw the pillow at him.

[13reasonstoeatthatcake]

I really want to know how Lilith Sorrengail feels about trying her best to get her youngest daughter away from whatever it was that her dad supposedly found in the Archives after Brennan 'died', just to get said daughter even more involved with the tyrrish rebellion two: electric boogaloo.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Melatonin

A FluffyNight drabble to celebrate reaching 50 followers on this account. It's pretty short & not beta read, but I think it's alright for being written in one sitting. Happy reading!

Beep! Beep! Beep! The sound of Ccino's alarm forced him awake, pulling him out of the pleasant dreams he had been having. Even now, Ccino could feel them slipping from his skull, leaving him wondering what exactly he had been dreaming about.

The continued beeping of his alarm pulled him from his thoughts & Ccino groaned, pushing his face into his pillow. Blindly reaching for it, Ccino attempted to turn it off without looking, knocking his hand against the other things on the nightstand before finally managing to push the button to silence it.

Blissful quiet filled the room as Ccino felt Nightmare shift next to him. Arms wrapped around him & pulled him close, holding Ccino close to Nightmare. Ccino smiled sleepily, turning on his side so he faced towards the other. He hummed quietly as he observed Nightmare looking back at him with a lidded socket, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Whispering so as to not ruin the atmosphere, Ccino questioned worriedly. Nightmare shook his head & moved slowly, readjusting them both until they were situated comfortably against each other.

Ccino smiled wider & closed his sockets, holding the other in his arms. Together in each other's arms, they both quietly drifted back to sleep.

Bonus scene!

A shrill beeping jolted them both back awake, causing Ccino to jump in Nightmare's arms. Grumbling to himself, he slowly sat up & reached over to the alarm, shutting it off.

Sitting up properly, Ccino stretched his arms above his head & groaned as he heard his joints pop, rubbing the bottom of his sockets with one hand. Picking up his phone & turning it on, his sockets widened in shock as he let out a loud, "Shoot!"

Scrambling & throwing the blanket off of himself, Ccino barely noticed as Nightmare sat up in alarm. "Is everything alright?" Ccino stammered out a reply, mild panic in his voice as he began changing out of his pajamas.

"Everything's fine! We just overslept a bit!" Relaxing slightly, Nightmare observed as Ccino got ready for the day, rushing around quickly so he wouldn't be later than he already was. If he concentrated, he could swear that he heard the meows of hungry cats impatiently calling for their breakfast.

Hastily walking over to Nightmare, having gotten dressed quickly, Ccino leaned over & placed a chaste kiss against his lovers cheek, smiling. "Love you, see you later!" With that he exited the room, leaving Nightmare sitting alone on the bed with only a warm imprint of where Ccino laid as company.

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

I'm mad.

Home worked all night on his apology pancakes.

He was ready. He wanted to tell Peach, to apologise and ask for forgiveness. And he wanted to do it himself. Because he knew this was something he had to face himself, just like Peach had to face his ghost himself.

He says so explicitly.

And yet, Kid (and Kan) took that away from him. They took his chance to confess, apologise and ask for forgiveness. They took his chance to save what is most important to him. His family with Peach and Pangpang.

Kan told Home to confess the sooner the better from the beginning. Aside from Home himself, she's the only one who has the full picture so she warned him.

And then over the course of the episode she kept puttng pressure on Home.

And it worked! Home was steeling himself and preparing to confess. Hell, he even almost did it right there in the kitchen after overhearing Chai-Un making his own confession.

But he was interrupted. And after he saw Peach asking for forgiveness from the person he almost killed through his food, Home wanted to do the same. Because he knows how much food means to Peach and that Peach would know it to be a meaningful gesture from Home because he knows that Home has never cooked before. That he must have worked hard to make this for him. So he asked for a little more time. So he could prepare his apology properly.

(Now, of course, one could maybe argue that Home needs to find his own way to apologise instead of just copying Peach. And I can accept that argument though I stand by my opinion that it would have been meaningful for them in this manner. That Home saw Peach getting forgiven by Chai-Un and thought he could have the same, easy conclusion. This one I don't accept because Home did almost confess before Peach got forgiven.)

Kan heard this onversation. She knew Home asked for just a little more time.

And I guess she didn't believe him? Or she thought someone from the Vimarnsukman family would stop him. We don't yet know the full extent of her backstory but it probably involves Home's family harming someone she cared about. So I'm willing to give her that she probably has a reason to not believe the confession would happen. But she could have talked to Home about it again. One day. Not even, maybe half a day. That's all Home needed.

But instead she chose to take the oportunity from him. For revenge or whatever her goal is.

And she didn't even do her due dilligence.

Not that what really happened is so much better than drunk driving but this is just one more thing painting Home as an irresponsible rich brat when he didn't drink. In fact we learn that he just doesn't drink and drive in general to the point that his associates are annoyed by it.

Not that he deserves a medal for it but we learn that Home was a lot less immature three years ago than we were lead to believe, maybe even less than at the beginning of the series when he was hiding his demons behind a facade of rich-bratness. When he finds out that Baby#13 lied to him about her boyfriend he leaves. He doesn't cause a scene, he doesn't start shit with the boyfriend he just leaves. He removes himself from the situation (but the situation keeps calling until he forgets to pay attention to the road and thus begin our troubles.) All to say that Home was actually not as bad as Kan clearly thinks.

And Kid. After the last episode I thought that maybe he wasn't that bad after all. Just trying to protect his nephew with any method he had at his disposal. It wouldn't have made what he had done ok, but at least understandable. Many people would do whatever they can to protect their loved ones from any harm, and if you grew up with wealth, surrounded by people who can fix any mistake by throwing money at it, a "solution" like this isn't surprising. But from what we saw this episode it seems I was wrong. It seems what he truly cares about is not Home, certainly not Home's happiness but rather the family name and the money.

Three years ago we saw that Home wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to help Peach.

But he was scared and didn't know what to do so he made a mistake. He called his uncle whom he trusted. And his uncle told him not to help, told him to run, to let him "solve" the problem for him.

And now, three years later, Kid tries to "help" Home again, but Home tells him "No. Let me do this myself." And Kid proceeds to do no such thing. He just "fixes" everything for Home as before. Without even talking to Home first. Because he doesn't even consider that Home has something more important to him than money and reputation.

So he also takes away Home's choice and sends attorny Yai after Home's family. To intimidate the people Home loves into not suing them. Because that's what he thinks of them. Just two poor leeches who will take any opportunity to take their money. Nothing more.

But he's wrong. Peach and Pangpang weren't sticking around for the money. They didn't even take any of it in the end. They were sticking around for Home. And by making them think that Home thinks so little of them that he would send his lawyer to threaten them instead of facing them himself, he puts the final nail in the coffin of Home's family.

And attorny Yai was there for that. He saw that and it still didn't even occur to him that they might have done wrong by Home (let alone Peach but he wouldn't care about that anyway).

No, he has the gall to tell Home that there's NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. That loosing his family, having the people he loves think that he never cared about them, is THE BEST FUCKING SOLUTION.

This. This is his best solution. Home's hard work and best efforts to become a better person, to grow into someone whose family could maybe forgive his past wrong-doings, to be the version of himself that owns up to his mistakes and asks for forgiveness, on the floor, broken and trampled on.

No one outside of it takes their family seriously. Not Kan who was supposed to be one of them. Not Kid who thinks he's the only family Home needs. Not Yai, not Suradech who witnessed them get closer and still ended up following orders.

Not the smug-faced bastard Best who had to poke his nose where it didn't belong.

And btw, can we talk about how it was not only Home's agency that all of them took away. It was also Peach's. Did anyone ask him if he wanted his face and story plastered all over the internet? Did anyone stop to cosider how he might feel to have the truth revealed to him like this? To have the worst possible version of Home shoved in his face by everyone aside from Home himself? No, of course not.

The only one who tried to stop this, the only one who could see how much Home and Peach care about each other and thus knew that this could't be it, was Pangpang.

Because she's the only other real member of their little family. The only one willing and capable of feeling the home they had built for themselves.

And it really hurt to see the fall out. To see Home break, desperately trying to make the people around him see what they took from him, trying to understand how they could hurt him so bad in the name of helping him.

(damn Newwie that was some excellent scream-crying)

To see Peach turn on the shower in their old apartment so his sister wouldn't have to hear him cry.

(ouch)

To end the episode on that shot of Peach looking so small as he's crying in the corner of their old bathroom.

To give one final punch in the face with Home looking even smaller in the end credits. Sitting alone and eating fast-food like before he had them. At the table where Pangpang first called them a family. With all the reminders he has left of their time together on the table before him.

[wisteria-whump]

whumpee who hears the tiniest noises at night and convinces themself that whumper has found them and is going to kill them or recapture them 🫶

[scarlettcryptid]

made pro hero touya and pro hero tenko using this picrew.

🍩 touya just realized he got donut'd.

🍩 tenko's too busy trying to smile like a normal person to notice the donut on his head.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 6

Mask(s)

Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.

For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.

You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.

Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.

Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.

Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.

And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.

You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.

(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.

Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)

Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.

A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”

You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”

“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”

“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.

If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.

... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”

He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”

You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.

(Just in case, he lies to himself.)

You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.