#and i should do another one of these soon lest it gets this long again

[majinbangus]

more of big simon, little simon, and mama

He's drinking his morning tea when there's a knock on his door. Unlike last time, it's a simple rap of three knocks. A patient sound. He's not expecting anyone, but he has a feeling who it might be.

Simon finishes sipping his drink, the warmth of the tea spreading down his chest, sending a pleasant buzz throughout his body. He tilts his head back as he drinks the last of it, letting out a sated groan. It's been awhile since he's had tea this good.

Another three knocks sound off again, this time more enthusiastic. Simon quirks a brow. More than likely, those three thumps were from his little name twin, knowing the impatience of a child.

He places his mug in the sink and walks over to open the door, unsurprised when he sees you and your boy. Not an unwelcomed sight, but certainly a curious one. Last time he saw you was the morning after the night he watched over you, staying for a quick, slightly awkward breakfast when little Simon insisted, and when big Simon took one look at you, sickly and lightheaded, and thought it best he made something for your small family lest you faint and scare your boy again.

"Simon!" The lad greets with that toothy grin of his. Mostly toothy. Your boy is missing one of his top incisors. "Good morning!"

"Morning." Simon nods back and drawls, "What do I owe the pleasure?"

The rambunctious child practically bounces in place, tugging your hand cheerfully, addressing both you and Simon. "Me and Mama want you to come with us for breakfast."

"Brekkie?" Simon squints down at the lad, tilting his head. "Why?"

"Mama says it's a thank you for when she was sick, and I wanted to spend time with you!" Little Simon says with a gleeful smile.

"Is that so?" Simon murmurs under his breath. You got yourself a sweet lad. So free and honest, unafraid to share his emotions with the world. The childlike happiness being something he hasn't seen in a long time. A kind of innocence that needs to be protected and cultivated. Something Simon never really got for himself.

Maybe he could do that for you and your boy.

"Simon?"

He blinks and focuses on the lad. "Yeah, mate?"

His name twin gives a hopeful look. "Please say you're coming! Me and mama really want you to come!"

"You and your mum, huh?" Simon huffs a little, amused. "Is that what she said?"

He turns his gaze to you, and instantly, all thoughts of breakfast fade out of his mind, a smirk spreading across his lips. You look as if you haven't heard a word he and your boy exchanged. Probably his fault from the looks of things. He didn't bother changing out of his sleep clothes when he got up- a rare, indulgent, lazy day for him- and opened the door as is. Shirtless. Shameless. In nothing but a worn pair of fading plaid sweatpants.

You're staring. At his chest, at his abdomen. Over his arms and down his tattoo. Eyes brazen as they rove over all of his perfections and imperfections. His muscles... his scars... his happy trail.

You carefully avoid looking down any further.

Cute.

"Ahem." Simon casually leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. Perhaps flexing a smidge. There's no one here that would call him out on it, though. He cocks his head when you continue to stare. He clears his throat more clearly. "Ahem."

No response except for your mouth dropping slightly open when he flexed his arms. Hah. He swears you'll start drooling soon. When was the last time you saw a shirtless man? Was it when you were still with your ex? The man must have been something unremarkable if this is your reaction to seeing Simon scruffy and shirtless.

What would your reaction be if you saw more of him? In a different setting, if it were just you and him? What would you do? What would you say? What then?

Dangerous territory to be thinking about. He should probably stop. He doesn't want to.

"Mama!"

Little Simon notices the staring.

That gets you out of your daze. And big Simon out of his.

"Huh? What?" You blink and finally tear your gaze away, squeezing the smaller hand in yours. Unfortunate. He quite liked your ogling. "What is it, Simon?"

It's a hilarious sight. You, the mother, looking like a child who's hand got caught in the cookie jar (the cookie jar being big Simon), and your son looking like the reprimanding parent placing his hands on his hips.

"You were staring!" Fucking, hell. It even sounds like your son is scolding you. "You told me it was rude to stare!"

You sputter, "I- I wasn't!"

"You were," Simon cuts in, ruthless and smirking when you look back at him, an embarrassed tension puckering your lips. If he wasn't so chuffed, maybe he would take mercy on you. But he is, so he won't. Simon rolls his shoulders, stretching his muscles- maybe flexing a little more- watching your eyes dart from his face to his body and back to his face again before he turns to your boy. "Wasn't she, mate?"

"Yeah," Little Simon agrees, oblivious to your turmoil. "Now you have to say sorry, Mama!"

Big Simon, on the other hand, is a cruel bastard for taking pleasure from your floundering.

"But I didn't mean-"

"Try again. You heard your lad." Simon pushes off the doorframe and purposefully stands to his full height, making himself bigger as he leans toward you. "You wanna make a good example, yeah?"

It's adorable the way you struggle to maintain eye contact, biting your lip. "Y... yeah..."

Simon raises an expectant brow, and you gulp. "Uh. I... I'm sorry."

"What for?" Simon asks just to make things difficult for you and you squint at him. He smirks. Fine. He'll allow you some breathing space and back up.

You give an audible sigh of relief when he leans against the doorframe again. "I'm sorry for... for staring at you."

It's fun watching you squirm, eyes gleaming widely and silently pleading for mercy. Should take a picture so it would last longer. He holds in a chuckle. What an interesting thought.

But he's made you suffer enough. Simon looks at your boy. "What do you say, lad? Think that was an adequate apology?"

The boy puts a finger on his chin. "What does 'adequate' mean?"

"Means it's good enough, or acceptable."

"Then yes! Mama made an adequate apology." The lad proudly shows off his newly acquired vocabulary.

Simon huffs with amusement before turning back to you. "Suppose I can forgive you then."

You stare, as if you can't quite believe the interaction he had with your son, and Simon's almost tempted to make a comment ("we just went over this, love"), but then you bow your head and laugh lightly under your breath, mumbling, "Wow."

He cracks a little smirk.

"So will you go with us, Simon?" The kid asks when it's clear the adults aren't going to say anything else. He adds on a sweet, "Please?"

How could he say no to that?

"Alright." Simon stands up straight, preparing to walk back into his flat. "I'll come grab some brekkie with you."

"You will?" Your boy flashes an eager grin. "You'll come with us?"

Simon pats the lad's head, nodding. "Yeah, kid, just lemme change first."

"Alright!"

"I'll meet you on the first floor." He moves to close his door, but then pauses, eyes finding yours with a teasing glint. "Or you could wait in here-"

"We'll meet you on the first floor!" You blurt out, avoiding his gaze, and grab your boy's hand, quickly tugging him along. "See you, Simon!"

"See you, Simon!" The lad echoes and waves a hand, unconcerned by your rushing. You disappear with your child soon after, and Simon chuckles, shutting the door.

He looks towards the kitchen, debating. He can do the dishes when he gets back. They can wait. You and your boy are probably hungry. He won't keep you guys waiting, and even though Simon already ate breakfast, he doesn't mind going out. But he doesn't need to tell you that. Simon still has room to eat, and he won't mind spending a bit more time with you and little Simon.

-

Big Simon totally wears a compression shirt to make your brain short circuit. Meanwhile, little Simon is wondering why Mama is tripping every two seconds.

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 2

3.1k | fluff, suggestive Nights in London were warmer with you (part 1) (part 3)

“I’m going back home Thursday,” John said after you placed your orders at another quiet restaurant.

“That’s nice. I’m going home closer to the holidays. Need to keep the shop open.” You beamed. “Apparently a few weeks ago, a racer posted the cookies on Instagram and people started piling up.”

His heart skipped a beat. It must have been Kyle. The lad couldn’t stay away from social media, always posting something - a far cry from him who only had an account strictly for business, as part of most brand deals.

Including McLaren. John was to post at least a photo every week. Unlike his teammate, his page consisted mostly of professional photos, usually taken from races, or the skyline of the cities where his races took place in.

Did you know who he was? “Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I probably should have asked. Christy - one of my girls - found out from a customer, but I’m just so, so grateful. We got so many orders for Christmas gift this year.”

“That’s wonderful, love.” He squeezed your hand. “Let me get a box to take home. My parents would love them. Can you squeeze me in?”

“Always.”

John pulled up at your apartment and brought your hand to his lips. “Hope I’m not too forward, love, but how soon can I see you again?”

You smiled. “Tomorrow? Dinner’s on me. You pick the place.”

The Japanese near your shop caught his eye (he loved his salmon teriyaki), and when he dropped you off the next night, again, he asked who was picking dinner the night after.

“My groceries aren’t going to last much longer, I’m afraid. I need to cook tomorrow.”

“Right,” he muttered.

He had pushed his luck. His cheeks heated from his presumption. He was seeing you too often at such an early stage even that it would have been his last night before leaving for three weeks.

“You’re welcome to join me.”

“I’d love that.”

John didn’t remember the last time anyone cooked for or with him like this. He didn’t realise how much he craved spending a quiet night in enjoying your company without having to worry about being conspicuous in the privacy of your own home.

He didn’t get to date much, but it was pathetic how none of the women he was seeing, not even the one he was with for a year, wanted to stay home much at all.

When he met her at a bar, he was an F1 rookie, an up and coming driver still struggling to establish his footing on the grid. Things kept going wrong, and he was constantly on edge about his contract being terminated, beating himself up over any mistake lest it costed him his career that had barely taken off.

She was a breath of fresh air. While he had been uptight, all up in his head, forgetting to be grateful of how far he’d gone, she was untroubled. He had the money, and she knew how to spend it. Overnight, his life swirled around luxury and status. She taught him how to live good, and he did.

The stunt she pulled boosted his career. Sponsors and deals poured in and he worried less. The cruelty of his mind mellowed and it allowed him to breathe. He finished 6th that season.

On your couch, John fumbled with his long-empty beer bottle. Despite not wanting the night to end yet, it had to as your bedtime inched closer.

“Thank you for dinner, love. It was grand.” He placed the bottle on the side table.

“We can do that again next time.”

He swallowed and looked up at you. “May I kiss you?”

A sweet smile bloomed on your pretty face and you scooted closer to him. He let out a shaky breath when your soft lips pressed against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you cupped his face. Your fingertips slid down his neck before you pulled away, much to his chagrin.

You looked away, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, this is such an odd thing to say, but you’ve got a really muscular neck.”

“Do you like it?” he asked, slightly breathless, his heart beating out of his chest.

You leaned back in. He almost whimpered at the way your kisses seared the sensitive skin of his neck, his grip tightening on your hips as he guided you over his lap.

When you pulled away again for a breath, you bit back a grin while John and his hooded eyes weren’t all there.

“You’re falling asleep.”

“No, I’m not.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as the high coursed through his veins before chuckling to himself.

He needed a moment to recover from the heady fact that he’d just kissed you. That your hot, wet tongue swiped over his lower lip before brushing against his own as he held you flush to him with greedy hands.

You cradled his face. “Promise you’ll get home safe.”

John gave you another peck at the door. Despite the uncomfortable throb against his jeans, he left with a grin.

The next morning was freezing, but the comforting smell of coffee and cookies baking welcomed him into your warm shop as John wheeled his luggage behind him.

“Mornin’, love,” he greeted, making you look up from the register.

“Hi- Oh no, you’re early. The cookies are still cooling.” You glanced at the clock. “Have you got 15 minutes?”

“No worries. I’ve got time to kill.” He pulled out his phone. “Ring me up, love.”

“No, no. It’s on the house. My Christmas gift for the Sloanes.”

You were too beautiful smiling up at him with such bright eyes. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you sit? I’ll make you a drink.”

Moments later, you set a paper cup in front of him.

“What’s this?” He chuckled at the doodle on the side, picking up the cup to inspect it closer. It was a man in a cap, a cookie on the side. “S’that me?”

You nodded with a small smile.

He wanted to kiss you right then, but reached for your hand instead. “That’s real sweet, love.”

When you disappeared into the kitchen, he took a picture of the cup, heart fluttering at the gesture. He knew just what to post that week.

“You have a safe trip, John. Enjoy your holiday.” You gave him a squeeze in front of his ride.

He couldn’t help pulling his mask down and leaning in for a peck, your gift with the large bow in hand. You smiled against his lips.

On the way to the train station, just minutes after he posted the photo, Gaz sent him the eyes emoji. He snickered. Kyle Garrick was chronically online.

He replied with a quick snap of the box of cookies.

Shite, should have got some for Birmingham too. Get me some when I’m back!

John’s mum gave him a bear hug at the door of the house before announcing his arrival to his dad. He placed your gift on the coffee table and his mum poured them tea – she always had some ready whenever he visited.

He sat back on the couch, looking out the window at the backyard. It was bleak, barren from winter, but it made him fuzzy all the same. He’d missed home.

The next few days, you were busier than ever at work cranking out orders with your girls. You went home and slept straight away, and rinsed and repeated the next day. John, meanwhile, spent his time visiting cousins and relatives around the city.

That Sunday when you finally had some time off, he was out the whole day while the very thing he wanted to do was to talk to you. When he got back home and cleaned up, it was past your bedtime, but you’d insisted on waiting up for his call.

“John,” you muttered sleepily. It was the first time he heard you since he left.

The voice he’d missed so much send a shiver straight down his spine. “H- hi.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got baby photos to show me?”

He chuckled. “We’ve got some in the living room, but it’s so bloody cold right now and I don’t want to leave my bed.”

“It’s freezing here too, but it must be even colder up there.”

Cuddling with you sounds perfect right now. “I might have other photos on my phone if you want to see?”

“Of course,” you said, but it sounded more like purring in his ears.

He bit his lip, going through his gallery before sending you a photo of him grinning ear to ear in a go-kart next to his parents in front of their house.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You were so adorable.”

He smiled. “They got me my own kart for my 8th birthday. It was so early, I was still in my pyjamas.”

John Price didn’t come from money, nor did he have any speck of racing in his lineage, but when a friend of his celebrated his 7th birthday at a karting track, his life was forever changed. A lap in, and the adrenaline bug sank its fangs deep into his skin and never let go.

“Been into cars since a kid, huh?“

“Huge fan.”

For the next 5 years, his dad juggled multiple jobs, sometimes even 4 at a time, while his mum worked odd ones to get by between taking care of the house. Despite the efforts, they still needed to let go of the family house to support him.

Having to constantly move around from relative to relative, they had to drop most of their belongings, but never John’s hard-earned trophies even when it meant less living space.

“This was my first time in London.” He sent you another photo of his family, Big Ben in the background. “It was the best day ever.”

He didn’t understand why his parents sacrificed so much for him, put so much on the line. He didn’t know what they saw in him. But at 13, on that fateful day that altered the trajectory of his life, he was signed into the McLaren driver development programme. Sent to a boarding school, he called London home ever since.

“You had such chubby cheeks! I love it.”

“And this… I’m not there, but this is another one of my favourites.” It was his parents in front of their current home.

“The house got renovated?”

When John secured his F1 seat at 20, the first thing he did was buy the house back. Over the years, the previous owner had made many changes that left his childhood home barely recognisable, but his parents loved it all the same. It was where it all started after all.

“Yeah. The heater always works now.” He laughed. “Except tonight. Something is bloody wrong with the cold tonight. I’ve cranked the heat up but it’s still freezing.”

“When I was young, we had a dog called Rosie. She was my personal heater.”

“What was she like?”

“She was huge, an impossibly fluffy black Newfoundland. Loved to cuddle.”

He smiled. “That sounds wonderful. We never had a pet.”

“Would you want one?”

“A dog, yes, in the future.” His mind drifted to the family pets of his childhood friends. “I like knowing that as long as I love him, he’ll love me back. That I’ll always be enough.”

“That’s true. One of my favourite memories is coming home from school and having her accidentally smack me with her tail because she was so happy to see me.” You paused. “When she passed, I cried for days. My parents said she was from Canada, so I always said I wanted to go there and adopt one of her siblings.” You laughed. “Well, that never happened.”

“I’m sorry.” He could only imagine what it felt to lose your best friend and his heart ached for you. He wanted to wrap you in his arms.

“Have you been to Canada?”

“I have, for work. It’s beautiful there, gorgeous lakes. You’d love it.”

“Yeah? Maybe one day I’d get to see for myself.”

I’ll take you there, he almost promised out loud. He chewed on his lip. He’d love to take you to the next Canadian Grand Prix. In fact, he’d love it if you could come to each race, but it was something too distant in the future for him to even have the guts to picture.

You yawned. “I should sleep.”

No, no. He still missed you. “Can I stay a bit longer? I’ll hang up later.”

“Yeah, alright.”

There was rustling on your end, he imagined you tucked yourself under the covers and rolled over.

You let out a long, content sigh. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, love,” he muttered.

How was he going to survive the rest of his trip? His chest was going to explode.

It didn’t take long for your breathing to slow and eventually deepened. He swallowed, ashamed of the images your sleepy voice had roused that resulted in the situation in his sweats.

John never hung up because he fell asleep listening to you.

In the next three weeks, distance didn’t deter John from getting to know you. While you were busy at work during the day, you found the time to call every night, no matter how short. When you’ve gone back home, in turn, you showed him photos of your hometown and your family. But your selfies were his favourite. He loved looking at them throughout the day.

He counted down the days he’d be back in London. When initial connections were prone to fizzing out with space, it made each chance to see you even more precious to him. It was all he wanted to do.

That Saturday, once more, he headed straight to yours from the airport, always in a black mask and a cap.

“John!” You swung the door open in a cosy oversized shirt and pulled him for a hug.

He wrapped his arms tight around you, grinning into your hair. He didn’t realise he missed you this much, your warmth, your smell.

He followed you in, wheeling his luggage behind him. “I got you this,” he said, holding out a bag.

“What’s this?” You peeked into it.

“It’s my favourite blueberry loaf from the bakery we always went to, ever since I was a kid. Thought you’d like it too.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his forearm.

With your eyes bright and smile sweet, he couldn’t help himself anymore. He yanked his mask down and pulled you in by the waist. Against his lips, you giggled, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Didn’t realise you’ve got a beard now.” You pulled away, giving it a once over. “It tickles, but I like it.”

During the season, he never grew out more than a stubble because of how uncomfortable it was under the balaclava and helmet, so he always liked to grow it out each chance he had. Especially now that he didn’t want to be recognised in public with you.

“I’m making you dinner.” You helped him take his coat off and hung it behind the door.

He blinked. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

Constantly out to expensive spots wearing designer brands, jetting all over the world with champagne in hand, John’s previous relationship was beautiful. On the outside at least.

As exhilarating as it all was, to him, it grew old and tiring too fast. While she thrived in the buzz of the media, always picture-perfect as the pretty girlfriend of a rising star, he was barely alive from his work commitments and catering to her whims.

She had been more interested in picking trending outfits to wear to the swanky restaurants regardless how tired he was at the end of the day. Countless arguments inevitably stemmed from him not bothering to wear anything more than a plain t-shirt for a weekday dinner. Still, he plastered a smile on as he was dragged to these places, too bright and loud. It was the woman he loved.

It was a fleeting thought at first, but he started missing the quiet life he had, when he didn’t have to be hounded by what people thought of him. About why he wasn’t at the grand opening of some bar with the foreign name, why he was still rocking a 4 year-old phone, if John Price wore the same hoodie two days in a row.

She was too eager to smile at the cameras, basking in the limelight. She wasn’t unkind or ill-meaning, but the affection that once drew him to her was long gone leaving him feeling alone and unwanted in his own relationship. It took him too long to accept she was there for John Price the F1 driver, not the bloke from Liverpool anymore, if she even ever was.

When he finally ended it, it barely took a month before she was on some footballer’s arm. Betrayal scorched his stomach. It hurt more than words, but perhaps it was the price to pay for being where he was. He never knew who to trust.

“It’s salmon with broccoli and rice. I don’t cook a lot of fish, but I tried this marinate I thought you’d like,” you rambled. “I hope it tastes alright even if I mess it up the temperature.”

“No, it would be perfect. Thank you so much.”

You cooking for him, his favourite food at that, meant so much more than you could imagine. You brought warmth to his chest.

After dinner, you snuggled with him on the couch. The chatter of the TV melted away. He let his longing for you dissipate as he inhaled the comforting scent of your hair as you traced his long fingers.

You turned to him, holding his gaze for a moment before you mumbled, “Would you like to stay the night?”

Was it not evident in the way he couldn’t let you out of his sight that he didn’t want to part?

John climbed in your bed and pressed his chest against your back, curling up around you, an arm around your waist. He let out a long, content sigh as he basked in the sensation of your soft body on him.

“You said Liverpool was bloody cold, but you run so warm.” You laughed. “That means I won’t even survive.”

He smiled into your hair. “You won’t have to worry about that when I’m around.”

He had two months before the next season started. If he was lucky – and he really wished he was, it meant more nights like this with you, many nights, he hoped. Just like this.

Masterlist Ex bf John Price

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @kechiwrites @mikichko

@secretsynthetic @foo1ishs3renity @juicyjujuuu @ladydevilofhell @rowanyaboats

@hungrycrazy @readreblogfics @nocturnalreader106 @panda-b0s @stickerguts

@strong-bronze-or-regal-black @sadcowboyhours

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Fourteen

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen

A/N: I LOVED writing this chapter! That's it. That's all I'm gonna say! Enjoy my lovelies!!!! Eeeeeepppppppppp!!!!!!

"I was saving that peach for this morning."

"Then you should've told me last night. How was I supposed to know it was yours?"

"Because I didn't eat mine last night. You were right there when I put it away."

"For all I know, you didn't want to eat it."

"Who in their right minds wouldn't eat a peach?! Its the best fruit there is!"

"Which is why I ate it!"

And so the argument continued, words flying back and forth across the breakfast table. Iroh sipped his tea contentedly, enjoying the warmth of the beverage. The little argument didn't bother him, really it would bother him if Orora and Zuko weren't arguing first thing in the morning.

Thinking that perhaps he should step in, lest Orora freeze Zuko for the rest of the day, and she would do that, Iroh cleared his throat, catching both their attention. "I believe you owe Orora a peach Zuko." He stated calmly, prompting his pupil to shoot a smug smirk in the scowling Prince's direction.

"She can get one herself." He grumbled, standing up. Orora pursed her lips in annoyance, but chose to remain quiet. She wouldn't be letting it go that easily, but for now, they were already getting late for work.

Best to pick up on it later.

Iroh couldn't help but chuckle at the look of intense concentration on Orora's face. He knew exactly what she was planning, he just hoped her revenge, should she choose to seek it out, which she would, wouldn't make Zuko too annoyed.

Then again, it was rather nice to see Zuko display emotions other then anger, anguish and hopelessness. For too long he had watched his nephew despair over the loss of his home and his honor. But ever since Orora came into their lives, Iroh had seen significant change. One that made him realize that perhaps the boy Zuko had been before he was banished, was still somewhere inside him.

And as they stepped into the teashop to begin work for the day, he caught his nephew shoving a peach into Orora's hand before stalking off to look for his apron. His young pupil stood still for a few moments, eyes darting from the fruit to the door where Zuko had disappeared.

Finally, she rolled her eyes, a gentle smile playing about her lips. Slipping the peach into her pocket, she began her tasks for the day.

Iroh shook his head, smiling to himself. It was obvious how the both of them cared for one another, and yet neither were willing to take the next step. Perhaps because of their views, views that had been thrust upon them by the world.

A Fire Nation Royal, and a Water Tribe Noblewoman.

A love that was never meant to be.

Huffing to himself, Iroh began to go over the many many teas he had stored on the shelf behind the counter.

He had allowed them both the dignity of working everything out themselves, but if they were going to be too stubborn about their nonsensical views, he would have to step in.

They were far better together then they were apart, he had seen and experienced it firsthand.

Perhaps an opportunity would arrive soon, that would help push both teenagers together.

                                          ————————–

She stared at the peach in her hand.

It was rather strange how something as insignificant as a piece of fruit held so much meaning. And all because Zuko had given it to her.

Granted he had done so because his Uncle had told him he owed her one, but, lately, Orora had begun to realize that even though his Uncle was the one to advise Zuko on something, the act being carried out was something he did out of choice, and not necessity.

She was on her break at the moment, sitting in the back of the tea shop, looking over at the peach as if she were seeing it for the first time. Taking a bite of the fruit, she smiled at the sweet taste that burst across her tongue the moment she split the skin with her teeth.

Staring listlessly at the wall across from her, her mind wandered to the dinner they had a few nights ago. She still couldn't believe her and Zuko had managed to pull it off without any major mishap. They had actually been smiling at one another by the end of the night. And there was also the fact that she heard him laugh for the first time since they had met.

She had come to that realization late at night. It was shocking enough that she had laid there in silent surprise for a good few minutes before it sank in completely. It was sad how Zuko didn't allow himself to be happy. He didn't smile often either.

If eating spicy food and reacting to it got a sincere laugh out of him then she would probably do it again.

Orora shook her head as she took the last bite of her peach. The past couple of days, she had been seriously contemplating on Zuko being her soulmate. Here in Ba Sing Se, so far away from the horrors of war and the danger that had plagued them, she had to admit it was easy to dismiss all that was going on beyond the Walls and build a new life.

Maybe

.

.

.

.

.

.

Maybe having Zuko as a soulmate wasn't such a bad thing.

He did look out for her, she mused as she stood to wash her hands in the sink. Whenever she would go out in the city he would follow her. At first it had been a little annoying, but seeing him actually be sincere about the task had softened her heart. And though she knew she could take care of herself, should the need arise, it was comforting to know that there was someone watching out for her.

And then there were the little gestures he had been acting on every now and then. She usually slept late, wanting to get a bit of practice in before heading to bed. Besides, as a waterbender, her abilities were much stronger at night under the light of the moon. Sometimes she would practice for so long that she would barely have the strength to stumble to her bed roll, let alone pull the blanket over her. She would wake the next morning with the blanket covering her, and she knew it had been him.

How?

Because her string had tugged a little during the night and despite being asleep she had felt it.

He would always wait by the door before they left to ensure she walked between him and Iroh during their short trek to the tea shop. And when it was time to go home, he would be at the door once more, walking a pace behind her.

Zuko probably thought she didn't notice. But she did.

She noticed everything about him.

How, despite the cold exterior he tried to maintain, he actually had a kind heart. One that had hid from the rest of the world because he had had his face burned for showing that empathy for someone else.

Looking down at her hands, Orora suddenly realized she had actually washed the peach pit. Smiling softly, the girl couldn't help but shake her head as she recalled how Zuko had avoided her eye when handing her the fruit.

And for some unknown reason, one that certainly had nothing to do with sentimentality, she slipped the little peach pit in the pocket of her trouser.

The moment she did, her string flickered with color, and remained a deep red for a good few minutes.

All the while she stared at it, a warmth spreading through her entire body.

And if she blushed when Zuko walked in a few moments later, she simply walked past him, head held high, and eyes aglow with the realization that, perhaps, her feelings for him were beginning to grow stronger.

                                          ————————–

Warm amber gold eyes followed Orora as she walked back to the front of the shop. Once her break ended, his began, and Zuko was dying to eat something and get off his feet.

Honestly, serving tea all day, taking orders, washing dishes and stocking new product was as taxing as firebending. As someone who hadn't had a job his whole life, it was an eye-opener for him that people did all this and much more, just so they had a hot meal and a roof over their head.

Moving to where their daily lunch was, he picked up his bowl and settled onto his chair as he began to eat.

His eyes flickered to the two bowls that were still full of food, and he frowned. Orora hadn't eaten. She would likely be starving when they got back home. He needed a reminder to tell her off when it came to skipping her lunch. She did that often, he noticed, not eat because she didn't feel like it. If she kept doing that, she was surely going to get sick.

Letting out an annoyed huff he took a big bite of the stew he was eating, chewing almost aggressively. It was a little annoying at times, how much the thought of Orora occupied his mind. It was beginning to get rather tedious, if he were honest with himself, trying not to think of her.

But the surprising revelation about it? Was that he didn't actually mind thinking about her.

It was strange. For so long all that had occupied his mind was capturing the Avatar and getting back home. But now that was something that seemed as impossible to achieve as seeing a live dragon.

But what did seem possible? Was living a quiet life as a refugee. During the 100 year war, no Fire Nation army had been able to penetrate the walls of Ba Sing Se. So there was no chance of the city coming under the Fire Nation's control.

Maybe Uncle was right?

Maybe it was time to stop looking to the past and look towards the future.

A future with his Uncle at his side, someone who genuinely loved him.

And Orora. A future with Orora.

Would it ever happen, he wandered, playing with the last few pieces of meat that were at the very bottom of his bowl. He saw her as a friend now, and he was content with just that.

After all, he sighed in slight defeat, leaving the rest of his stew as he moved to the front of the tea shop again.

Soulmate or no, who could ever accept him?

A scarred, banished prince, with nothing but his title to remind him of who he had been.

Nothing more.

                                          ————————–

The new boxes of teas had arrived, and Iroh had eagerly opened them up to begin stacking them in the appropriate shelves. Climbing up the ladder, he lowered his hand down where Orora began to hand him the boxes one by one.

It had been a relatively slow day, so most of the chores they would normally do after the shop had closed were nearly completed now. Orora was honestly looking forward to going home early. It had been a busy few days, and she would also be going to Lake Laogai to practice a little of her bending soon.

A little lost in her daydream of practicing in a large body of water, she very nearly missed Zuko approaching the both of them.

"Uncle, we have a problem." His voice sounded urgent, prompting Orora to turn and look at him, while Iroh descended from the ladder.

"One of the customers is on to us." Zuko stated through slightly gritted teeth. Orora looked around the tea shop, and not finding anyone that would look remotely threatening rolled her eyes at Zuko. "You're being paranoid Zuko." She stated in a low voice, before moving to arrange a few more tea boxes in one of the lower shelves. Zuko threw a scowl in her direction before continuing to address his Uncle.

"Don't look now but there is a girl over there at the corner table. She knows we're Fire Nation." Iroh turned around to look at the girl, but was quickly pulled back by Zuko, who growled at him. "Didn't I say don't look?!"

"She's harmless Zuko. She's been coming in for days now. Always orders the Jasmine." Orora stated, not at all bothered by his accusations. Their main concern had been Jet, and he was already dealt with, so no reason to go around stirring up trouble. And she was aware how much Zuko loved to get in trouble for no reason.

Iroh had managed to see the girl, and having seen the girl before as well, he had also noticed how she would often watch his nephew as he worked around the shop. He tried his best not to let his glee show as he spoke. "You're right, Zuko. I've seen that girl in here quite a lot." He nudged his nephew in the stomach playfully. "Seems to me she has quite a little crush on you."

The reactions he had been hoping for were instant. Zuko blinked in astonishment at his suggestion, his brain unable to comprehend that anyone, let alone a pretty girl, would have a crush on him. Orora had dropped the box she had been setting, and turned to stare wide-eyed at her teacher and soulmate.

"What?" They both all but squawked out, prompting Iroh to let out a chuckle.

As if realizing what had just come out of her mouth, Orora quickly turned her attention back to her task, though not before she caught the look of surprise Zuko threw her way. Obviously he had seen her reaction. Though nothing could be said on the matter at present, since the girl came up to the counter. "Thank you for the tea." She said, a smile on her lips as she placed a few coins on the table, which Zuko picked up to put in the money box. "What's your name?" She continued, prompting Iroh to smile slightly.

Turning back around, Zuko spoke. "My name's Lee. We just moved here." He added, gesturing to both his Uncle and Orora, the latter of whom was still rather busy with stacking boxes, however she was more then aware of the conversation happening behind her.

"Hi Lee, my name's Jin." The girl introduced herself. "And......well, I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime." Zuko was stunned, for lack of a better word, staring at Jin as if she had suddenly grown an extra limb or something. Iroh, not wanting such a golden opportunity to go to waste quickly stepped forward.

"He'd love to!" He exclaimed loudly, behind him Orora glanced at Zuko out of the corner of her eyes, trying to see how he had reacted to being asked out by such a pretty girl.

"Great." Jin exclaimed, sounding delighted. "I'll meet you in front of the shop at sundown." And just as suddenly she had appeared, Jin walked away. A large smile on his lips Iroh threw an arm around Zuko's shoulders, who finally broke out of his bewildered state to glare at his Uncle.

                                          ————————–

"I'm not going."

The deceleration came as no surprise. As soon as Jin had walked out of earshot, Zuko had been quick to turn to his Uncle and state what was on his mind. Orora, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, moved to the back of the shop to finish doing whatever cups were left.

She knew Iroh wouldn't let Zuko back out, not when it meant making someone sad, so it was better to not be a part of that conversation.

Besides, she needed a little alone time to figure out why she had reacted the way she did just then a few minutes ago. Bending some clean water she splashed her face with it, allowing the coolness of it to calm and relax her a little. Maybe she should spend the evening on the roof. There was bound to be a moon out, and she just needed to bask in it's silvery glow. That always helped ground her.

But first, something to eat.

She moved to where her bowl of broth was still waiting for her. It was cold now, but she barely noticed as she caught snippets of conversations from beyond the open door.

Finally, Zuko appeared. He began pacing, grumbling under his breath, and she knew Iroh had won. "You know, you should be glad a pretty girl asked you on a date. Most guys aren't so lucky." She stated between a bite of her stew. He glared at her, to which she simply shrugged. "I'm just saying, why not go out and just have fun?" Setting her bowl down, she watched as his gaze flickered from his finger to her own.

The very finger the string that attached them to one another was tied.

She sighed, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth as she spoke. Zuko, just because we've decided to be friends doesn't mean we've promised anything more." Her voice was soft, and sounded a little detached, even to her own ears. And despite her heart telling her not to, her mind was pushing her to do the right thing.

"Go out with her. And like your Uncle said, be a normal boy for once. You deserve that more then anything. To be treated normally and not as the enemy." A smile pulled at her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. At least not completely.

Something that Zuko noticed, even as he finally relented. "Alright, I'll go."

                                          ————————–

Zuko was beginning to feel a little exhausted.

Mentally.

Jin spoke. A lot. And while that wasn't a bad thing, he had never been good for long conversations. He preferred silence and as minimal conversation as possible. Orora had understood that early on, and though she teased him about being broody, she would keep quiet when she knew he needed the silence to just......be.

Her conversations did help him forget his rather morbid thoughts, and whenever he would return to silently contemplating, he found his mind to be much lighter then it had been before.

And all because he spoke to her.

"So tell me, I know Mushi is your Uncle, but what about that girl that works with you?" Jin's question had him blinking out of his stupor and looking at her across the dinner table. "Oh, she's a student of my Uncle's. He helps her with her waterbending, even though he isn't a bender himself." He was quick to add with a shrug.

He watched, confused, as Jin let out a little sigh of relief, her shoulders drooping slightly. "Oh well thats good! From the way she looks at you sometimes, I thought you two were soulmates or something."

Zuko blinked.

"What?" That word was supposed to come out as a demand, but instead it came out hoarse and unbelieving. The girl shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean I've seen her look at you sometimes, and thats the exact way my mom looks at my dad when he isn't looking." She grinned. "They're soulmates." She added as a away of explanation.

The young prince simply gave a small nod, before returning to his silent contemplation, only half listening to Jin as she continued to talk.

                                          ————————–

The only good part of her evening had been when she had seen Zuko walk out after Iroh had helped him with his unruly hair. She had to physically hold herself back from laughing out loud, and had only let loose after he had gone, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"I see you are amused by my nephew's misery Orora." Iroh said, though there was no anger in his words, only slight reprimand. Orora pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "I'm sorry Master. Though I do hope Zuko has a good time. He deserves it." She added.

Iroh reached out to pat her arm in an affectionate manner. "I know you are a little hurt, but you possess a kind heart for saying so Orora." Seeing the slightly crestfallen look on her face, as she allowed her true feelings for the date to show, Iroh continued.

"And who knows, perhaps this date will act as the wake up call my nephew needs to not take you for granted."

She shook her head. "He doesn't do that Master." Moving to the window, she placed one leg over the ledge. "Although, it would be nice if he were to notice me as a girl rather then just his friend." So saying, she pulled herself up on the roof to loose herself to her thoughts.

                                          ————————–

Well this was a little awkward.

Zuko glanced at Jin, looking more then a little crestfallen about discovering that he lamps weren't lit. And looking at her sad expression, he was reminded of Orora, and how sad she would look whenever he spoke to her about his past. Though since that first night, when he had revealed everything, he did try to cheer her up. Mostly he just said something to annoy her, to distract her from thinking about his past.

Lately though, he had been working on actually making her smile.

"Close your eyes. And don't look." He said. Jin gave him a confused look, but did as he asked. She even covered her eyes to assure him that she wasn't looking.

Zuko walked forward, holding his hands together. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling as he allowed his inner fire to burn a little brighter. It had been so long since he had firebended. Using his pointer and middle fingers on each hand, he shot small bursts of flame in the directions of the candles to light them. It didn't take long for him to be done, and once finished, he stood straight and looked at Jin, who still stood with her palms over her eyes.

"Okay, now you can look."

Removing her hands, Jin gasped. "Oh, wow." Zuko had to admit, the lights did look rather beautiful as they reflected off the surface of the water of the fountain. Jin looked at Zuko, amazed. She walked up to him, looking at the candles. "What happened? How did they light? What did you do?" There was no accusation in her tone. Only surprise and happiness as her gaze flitted between him and the lights around them. Zuko didn't reply and Jin finally fell silent as well, looking around at the pretty view in awe.

And as he watched the light reflect in the fountain, he couldn't help but think of Orora and how she would probably create ice crystals to hang in midair. He was sure the sight would only become even more wondrous then it already was.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt Jin take his hand. Feeling a little lost and confused, since he had no other girl other then Orora actually take his hand voluntarily, he turned so he could look at Jin.

Who was beginning to lean in a little.

Prompting him to quickly hold up a piece of paper between them. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Surely she hadn't been about to..........

"I've brought you something." Jin looked at him surprised. "It's a coupon for a free cup of tea." He continued, prompting the girl to smile. "Lee, this is so sweet." She said taking the coupon and smiling at him. Zuko shrugged as he took a couple of steps back. "Don't thank me – it was my Uncle's idea. He thinks you're our most valuable customer."

Jin smiled. "Your uncle is a good teacher." The young prince's face softened slightly at the words. "Yeah, Orora can testify to that." He said, his eyes falling to the fountain once more where the water rippled slightly in the breeze. He felt Jin walk up next to him. A hand pressed to the side of his face. "I have something for you too. Now it's your turn to close your eyes."

With no hesitation he did. He felt Jin move even closer to him before a pair of soft lips pressed against his own. The contact was brief and she pulled back almost instantly. And though he did lean back in a little, almost instinctively he pulled back.

He opened his eyes, standing there and looking at her. Imagining someone else.

Someone with darker skin.

Ice blue eyes.

A patch of white in her hair.

And a smile that had begun to effect him more then he ever thought possible.

He turned his back on Jin, beginning to walk away.

"What's wrong?" Jin called out behind him. He could almost hear the disappointment in her voice. "It's complicated." He said, trying to shake away the image of Orora looking at him just as Jin had a few moments ago. "I have to go." He said starting to walk once more.

"Its that girl isn't it?"

He turned around startled, his eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at Jin. She had an almost sad smile on her lips as she looked at him. "You know you look at her the same way she looks at you sometimes. I've seen it." She said sighing in an almost melancholy way. "I would kill to have someone look at me like that. Like I'm their reason for getting up in the morning." She clarified, oversharing as usual, given how that was how she talked. Jin shrugged.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be as complicated like you say it is."

Zuko looked at her one last time, before sprinting back home.

                                          ————————–

Iroh looked out from the window down in the street, hoping to catch sight of Zuko as he returned. Of course he did not anticipate his nephew taking the back entrance of the apartment building. The door opened and Zuko walked in, silent and contemplative.

Trimming a bonsai tree to appear nonchalant, Iroh barely glanced at his nephew. "How was your night, Prince Zuko?" He asked. Zuko responded by walking to the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. Iroh looked after him for a second with a confused expression before he sighed and moved back to his task.

Though he immediately turned back around when he heard the door crack open and Zuko's voice to filter out.

"It was nice." He said, his voice soft and sounded as if he didn't believe the words himself. The door closed again, and Iroh smiled before resuming his task.

                                          ————————–

He found her lying on the roof. Her arms behind her head, her gaze trained towards the night sky, the light of the moon bright yet soothing. She didn't move her head, though she knew he was there as he mirrored her position.

A peaceful silence enveloped them both.

Where Zuko's mind had been a cacophony of words and voices echoing all around, barely finishing a thought, it was now silent. And where Orora had been overthinking even the most minutest of details, she found perfection in that moment as Zuko lay beside her.

"So, how was your date?" She finally spoke, her voice breaking the stillness of the moment, though not taking away from the tranquility of it.

"It was nice." Zuko repeated the same words he had told his Uncle, eyes tracing the many stars that littered the night sky. "I told her we traveled with a circus at one point. She seemed to believe it."

A soft laugh echoed across the rooftop. A sound that prompted Zuko to smile. He liked hearing her laugh.

"She also asked me to juggle, and I broke a couple of pots."

Another laugh. He was beginning to associate that sound with true happiness.

"Then she took me to see this fountain. You would've liked it. The lights made it look like the water was dancing." He never would've thought he would say words like that. Words of beauty and appreciation he always kept to himself. But here, with her, he had no problem saying them out loud.

Another silence.

This time it was broken by Orora. And the words she spoke next were so soft that Zuko almost missed them.

"Did you kiss?"

He stiffened beside her, and she had her answer. A pang of sadness had her almost wincing as she pursed her lips.

"She did." His voice finally came, soft and sincere. "I didn't."

Normally when the both of them spoke to each other concerning anything, words were their major means of communication. A way to get their point and message across.

But right then, they were barely speaking, and yet the amount of emotion, understanding and comprehension that passed between them was one neither had ever felt before.

Finally, finally, she turned her head, something she had been dying to do since he came up.

Why?

Because she wanted to look at his handsome face.

She wasn't at all surprised to see him looking back at her. The wind blew softly, a few strands of her hair escaping her comb and tickling her cheek.

"Why?"

Her heart was beating fast, though her breathing was calm and slow. She had never seen him look so gentle before. So soft.

Zuko allowed his eyes to roam over her face. From her expressive blue eyes, to that soft looking patch of white hair. And while in the past he had to stop himself from touching it, this time he didn't.

His hand lifted to gently brush the tips of his fingers against the strands. They were just as soft as he had imagined.

In his attempt to stroke her hair, his body had shifted even closer, and tilted slightly so that he was lying at his side. Loosing herself to the feeling of his fingers in her hair, Orora couldn't help but lean towards him, her upper body turning to the side as well.

Their gaze never wavered from one another.

He cleared his throat, wanting to give her an answer though unable to find the words. And somehow, she understood.

So she brought her fingers up, gently pressing them against his lips and giving him a smile, showing him that despite him not saying a word, she knew.

A look of gratitude flashed in his amber gaze, as his hand slowly dropped from her hair, to rest his palm against her cheek. The gesture surprised her, prompting her to remove her fingers from his lips. Though they didn't get very far.

Instead she pressed her fingers gently against the scar on his face. She allowed her fingers to trace along the rough skin, a touch so exquisite and tender, that Zuko was sure it was nothing but a dream.

But the reality of it was that Orora was lying next to him. And she was touching his scar. The ugliest part of him. And she was touching it as if it were the most softest of flowers.

"Close your eyes." He said, his voice a perfect replica of his expression.

Tender.

The girl stopped moving her fingers, though her hand stayed where it was.

She did as he asked.

He moved closer, his eyes closing as well.

She felt his nose brush against her own.

He felt her warm breath caress his mouth.

And in that moment, there was no war.

There was no Fire Nation or Water Tribe.

No Prince or Noblewoman.

It was a moment between a boy and a girl.

A moment under the stars as his lips found hers in a tender embrace.

And the string that connected them together burst in a flash of color.

Blue and Red.

Before it faded once more.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy

[azzys-secret-kink-blog]

Improper Use of Boba

CW: explicit sexual content, belly expansion, labor and birth(sort of), oviposition-adjacent but not really

Don't put tapioca pearls in places they should not go or they might do things they should not do

They barely made it in the door before Remy was pinned against the counter, and Finn’s mouth was on his. They’d gone out, and, while getting boba at a new spot that had opened nearby, ended up falling into a downright filthy conversation that had them rushing back to their apartment, lest they be arrested for public indecency. Finn had a leg between Remy’s, pressed against his dripping cunt, letting the shorter man grind on it while their mouths were occupied. Remy’s hands found his boyfriend’s belt and began fiddling with it, eventually getting it undone and opening his pants. He pushed Finn back, then turned him so he was pinned where Remy had been. He wrapped his hands around Finn’s half hard cock and stroked him to full stiffness before falling to his knees and licking a stripe along the underside of it. He kissed at the tip before taking it fully in his mouth and licking all around the head. Finn gasped and moaned, burying a hand in Remy’s hair to egg him on. Remy began to suck with fervor, taking as much of Finn as he could into his mouth, gagging as his dick hit the back of his throat. Remy kept pushing, and it wasn’t long before Finn was crying down and cumming down his throat.

Finn pulled him off his softening cock and kissed him, licking into his mouth and tasting himself. He pulled them both back up and toward the bedroom, where he promptly pulled Remy’s pants off and threw him down on the bed. Remy positioned himself against the headboard and let Finn spread his legs. Finn moved to bury his face in Remy’s cunt before pausing.

“What is it?” Remy asked. Finn furrowed his brow.

“I have an idea. I’ll be right back,” Finn got up off the bed and ran down the hall, leaving Remy half naked and dripping on the sheets. He pulled his shirt off and sat back on the bed. This wouldn’t be the first time Finn had come up with some spontaneous bedroom experiment. Once he’d decided to fill Remy’s cunt with whipped cream, eaten it out of him, and then eaten him out again in the shower afterwards, licking every bit of the sugar from his hole and leaving no trace. Finn’s ideas usually ended up pretty enjoyable, but sometimes they did end up a tad weird.

Finn came back with his half-drunk milk tea, still full of little black pearls. He took a few long sips before storing all the boba in one cheek and swallowing the tea. Remy cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you going to do with that?” He asked, a little apprehensive. He trusted Finn, but failed to see what he could do with boba of all things. Finn crawled back in between Remy’s legs before looking up to his face. He held his thumb up, then down, giving a questioning look. Ever the gentleman. Remy nodded.

Then his face was in Remy’s cunt, licking up his folds and circling his clit. He focused on the short shaft for a few moments, before moving down to his hole. He pressed a finger in, then two, stretching him out a little before diving in with his tongue. He pulled his tongue in and out a few times, then pressed his lips to Remy’s hole and began to push the boba into him. The pearls were warm from being in Finn’s mouth, and felt strange popping into him. Finn pushed them further in with his tongue, and emptied the stores in his cheeks before grabbing another mouthful from his cup and repeating the process.

Soon they filled his hole, and Finn went back in with his tongue, shifting them around inside of Remy. Finn had brought a hand up to gently rub at his clit while he worked, keeping Remy panting and squirming against his face. Every now and then a little whine would escape his throat, and Finn chased those sounds.

The pearls felt odd inside of Remy. They shifted and rolled inside him with every movement of Finn’s tongue. They pressed against every inch of his walls while the fingers stroked him, and he felt the stretch as even more pearls were deposited into him. He whined and moaned, grabbing at a pillow up to bury his face in to hide his noises. Finn noticed and batted his hands away from the pillow. He loved the noises Remy made during sex, even if Remy was embarrassed by them. Remy whined again before fisting his hands into the sheets instead and just letting the noises come.

He eventually began to feel a warmth building in his core, close to his peak. He held his thighs tight around Finn’s head and moaned. “Fuck, Finn- I’m so close, dont stop, please-” he cut off with a cry and Finn pressed hard against his clit. That drove him over the edge and his cunt clenched with his climax, forcing a few of the pearls out and back into Finn’s mouth. He looked down to see Finn grinning as he swallowed the boba, bringing his tongue back down to begin digging them out. He worked them out of Remy’s oversensitive hole, gently hooking his tongue to pull them out.

Once he’d gotten all he could with his mouth, leaving Remy panting against the sheets, he offered a hand and guided him to the bathroom. He got them both in the shower, where he used his fingers to dig more of the pearls out, and brought Remy over the edge a second time. Once he was sure he’d gotten them all out, he gently washed all the stickiness off of the both of them, and ten minutes later they were wrapped in a blanket on the couch, where Remy promptly fell asleep.

Remy woke up a couple of hours later with a bloated feeling in his gut. He groaned and cuddled closer to Finn, who had turned on some sort of documentary about shrimp. Finn kissed the top of his head and wrapped his arm around Remy’s shoulder, pulling the blanket off of them and tugging Remy sideways to lay across his lap, and wrapping him back up like a swaddled baby. He rested a hand over his stomach, thinking they’d probably just given him regular milk at the boba spot by accident, and went back to sleep.

He awoke again after a few more hours, Finn was now asleep and snoring and the sky was dark outside. The clock on the wall read five past 10. Remy felt even more bloated than before. He lifted the blanket to see a visible curve to his normally fairly flat stomach. He’d never reacted this severely to milk before, but he felt okay other than the slight ache. He stood, laying the blanket over the back of the couch and gently shaking Finn awake. He guided his still-half-asleep boyfriend to bed and went back to sleep pressed against his side. The bloating would probably pass by tomorrow, nothing to worry about.

~~~

Ok, now he was worried. Remy had woken up early the next morning, gone to use the bathroom, and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His stomach had swollen far past what could be considered bloating, with no other indicators that it was a reaction to something. His navel had even popped out. He lifted his shirt and pressed a hand against his swollen stomach, and felt something inside it shift inside him. He jerked his hand back with a gasp and rushed out of the bathroom.

He shook Finn, who groaned for a few more minutes of sleep. “Finn, something is wrong, seriously, get up!” Finn’s eyes flew open at that and he pushed himself up to sit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but look,” Remy lifted his shirt again to show his middle. He could pass for someone six months pregnant at this point. Finn extended a hand and poked Remy’s belly, making him yelp and yank his shirt back down. “I-I thought they gave me milk by accident or something yesterday, but it’s gotten worse, I dont know whats going on.”

Finn stood and began looking for his shirt. “I’ll go get the car started, there’s an emergency room on campus, I’ll-”

“Wait, no, please, I can’t go to the ER, one of the guys works there,” Remy said. He was starting to panic. One of the other members of his fraternity, who he would readily admit was on the weirder side, worked at the campus ER and would spread the word as soon as he found out Remy was trans. Finn knew he was trying to go stealth. He began to protest, but shut his mouth when he saw the look on Remy’s face.

“Okay, no emergency room. What do you want to do?” Finn asked, bringing a hand up to rest on Remy’s cheek to try and give him a little comfort.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. It aches a little, but it doesn’t actually hurt? It feels like . . . like there’s something in me,” Remy said, bringing a hand to press on his stomach again. He grimaced as he felt whatever was in him shift with the pressure. Finn moved both of his hands to either side of Remy’s belly and squeezed gently, making the things roll and press against his organs. Remy groaned at the sensation. Finn guided him to lay back down on the bed so he could continue inspecting the swell. After a few minutes of prodding and fondling, Finn’s hands found their way to Remy’s waistband and tugged it down to inspect between his legs.

“Finn, seriously, now is really not the time,” Remy whined. Despite his protests, he was already soaked. He refused to admit it to himself, but every touch of his belly sent waves of arousal coursing through him. He fought the feeling, embarrassed, but it persisted.

“I’m not trying to get in your pants, babe, I’m trying to make sure you’re not dying,” Finn said. That sent a fresh wave of fear hurtling through his thoughts. Oh god, what if he was dying? He seemed to still be swelling, slightly bigger than he was when he woke up. What if he just kept growing until he burst? What a waste of all the money he’d spent on student loans. His train of thought was cut off when Finn shoved a finger up his cunt.

“Finn!” Remy cried.

Finn’s mouth curled into a frown and his brow furrowed as he dug his finger around, hitting Remy’s cervix and making him yelp in surprise. “What the fuck?” Finn whispered.

“What, what did you find?” Remy asked, trying to lean over his now seven-month-equivalent belly to look down at himself. He couldn’t see, and Finn inserted another finger and kept prodding. Remy whined.

“Your cervix is really low, I think. . . whatever’s in you, it’s in your uterus, I think?” Finn said.

“Are you trying to say that I’m pregnant or something?” Remy asked. “Oh god, what if it’s ghosts? I can’t do that again, I still get nervous around hospitals!”

“I don’t think it’s ghosts, nothing’s moving in there, and I doubt you’re pregnant, you wouldn’t swell up this fast. This might be uncomfortable, but I’m going to try and feel what’s in there, okay?” Finn said.

“It’s already uncomfortable, just do it,” Remy said. He gasped as Finn’s fingers pressed into his cervix. He squirmed on the bed as Finn continued to inspect him. Eventually, he pulled his fingers out, wiped them off, and brought his hands back to Remy’s belly. He pressed against his skin, trying to get a feel for what was inside him, and after a few more minutes and another poke at his cervix, pulled his hands away.

“Ok, so I do not know what’s in there. I don’t think it’s alive, and it’s kind of . . . squishy? There are a bunch of squishy round things? I’m not sure how many, but there’s definitely at least a dozen of them,” Finn said. “I have a buddy who somehow got himself full of snake eggs that looked similar, but I don’t think that's what this is.”

Remy stared down at the mound and pressed his hand in to feel the squish, thinking about what could possibly have caused this whole situation, when it hit him. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“The fucking boba! It had to be cursed or something!” Remy said. He pressed both of his hands to his belly, now inching closer to an eight month size, and managed to isolate one of the things. It had a squish to it fairly consistent with that of a tapioca pearl.

Finn looked horrified. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have. . . fuck,” Finn said.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know,” Remy sighed. “So how are we gonna get these out? I think they might still be getting bigger.”

They both stared at Remy’s abdomen for a moment, contemplating. Finn pulled out his phone to see if he could find anything online, but came up empty handed. Remy got up, a bit of a struggle in his current situation, and started digging around in his things for something that might be useful. He even found the old boba cups, but there was nothing helpful about them.

“I’m gonna call them,” Finn finally said.

“Call who?”

“The shop. I think it’s mostly witches that work there, maybe they had a mix up or something.”

One phone call later confirmed that it was accidental. The shop was owned by some local witches who’d made the batch for someone else and ended up accidentally mixing it up with a regular batch of pearls. If eaten, there wouldn’t be any problems, but when put in places where one is not supposed to put tapioca pearls, odd things happen. They instructed Finn on how to perform a spell that would help get them out.

By the time Finn had finished drawing the sigil over Remy’s belly, he looked nearly due with twins. The pearls were the size of softballs inside of him. Finn completed the spell, and the sigil glowed and disappeared. They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen.

“What is it supposed to do?” Remy asked after a few minutes. “I don’t feel any different.”

“I think it’s derived from some sort of fertility spell, but I’m not sure,” Finn said. “I haven’t really studied these kinds of spells for. . . well, obvious reasons. I’m not trying to get anyone pregnant before I even finish college.”

“Maybe we should call them back, see if we did it wrong or-” Remy cut off with a gasp as his stomach clenched. Every inch of his abdomen was squeezing, forcing the pearls downward, and creating visible bulges against his skin. It sharpened the ache in his gut, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the worst pain he’d felt. He groaned and laid back on the bed, propping his legs up and cradling his belly in his hands. Finn gave him a worried look.

The contraction passed after a few moments, and Remy tried to reposition himself. Finn helped him up into a half-sit, propped up by pillows. He sat next to Remy as another contraction rolled through him a few minutes later, holding his hand and lightly stroking his hair. Finn held him gently, supporting him through the contraction.

“It’s. . .” Remy took a deep breath. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It hurts a little but I think I’ll be okay.” He buried his face in Finn’s chest as another contraction took hold, and with it, a nagging feeling that urged Remy to push.

He gave in to the urge, trying to force the pearls out with the pressure from the contraction, but felt no progress. A few more contractions, and more pushing, but the pearls refused to leave him. Finn moved down between his legs to inspect what was happening, pressing two fingers into him to see if the pearls were blocked or something. Remy continued to push, but still nothing.

Remy cradled his aching belly between his hands. He could feel the pearls inside him shift with his contractions, rubbing against his inner walls and making him slick with arousal. He whined as another contraction came and went with no progress. The pearls were still growing slowly inside him, and if he didn’t get them out soon they’d be too big, if they weren’t already.

Finn brought his hands up to the upper swell of Remy’s belly. “When the next contraction comes, take a deep breath and push for me, okay?” He said. Remy nodded, and was about to ask what he was going to do, but the next contraction was already gripping him. He breathed deep and bore down as Finn gripped his belly and pushed his hands into it. Remy cried out at the additional pressure, but soon he felt a pop inside of him. The first pearl had escaped his packed womb and was now stretching his canal wide. Remy moved one of his hands down to feel his folds bulging around the pearl, a coin-sized bit of it visible from his hole. He pushed again, feeling the pearl move and open his folds wider. The contractions were barely a minute apart now. He alternated between rubbing his swollen stomach, trying to count the pearls through his skin, and pushing with the contractions.

His cunt stung as the first pearl hit its widest point, squeezing through his entrance and falling with a wet plop onto the sheets. Finn held it up, glistening in the light, and placed it in a bin he’d set next to the bed. He brought his hands back to Remy’s middle and pushed in with the next contraction, forcing another pearl into his canal. The contractions were on top of each other now, only seconds between them. Sweat dripped down Remy’s forehead as he pushed the second pearl out. The third came quickly after without Finn’s assistance, Remy’s cervix having opened enough to pass them now.

The fourth and fifth came in quick succession, popping out one after the other and making Remy yelp. The stinging was fading with every pearl as his hole stretched to accommodate them. They were coming out faster now, the sixth only needing a few pushes before popping out. The seventh, eighth, and ninth all came quickly. Finn could barely keep up, and by the time he’d deposited one pearl in the bin another was ready to go. Remy groaned and grunted as he pushed them out. His hole burned, not with pain now, but arousal. Every pearl that passed through him pushed against his walls and put pressure on that sensitive bit of flesh as they approached their exit.

Remy reached a hand around his belly, now considerably smaller, to brush his fingers against his clit. He rubbed at his belly with one hand and used the other to stroke himself. He was achingly hard. Finn noticed and gently pushed his hand away, replacing it with his mouth. Remy cried out as Finn sucked him off, pushing three more pearls out. The pleasure egged him on, and both hands now kneaded at his belly. He basked in the feeling of them stretching his skin and pressing on his insides, shifting and rolling, and another popped out of him as he got close to his climax.

Two more pearls shot out of him as he came, squirting on the already ruined sheets. His belly was now the size it had been when he’d gone to sleep last night, still swollen but more akin to bloating than pregnancy. The pearls weren’t coming out as quickly anymore. Fourteen had been passed, and Remy’s abdomen was feeling significantly less crowded. Finn rubbed his swollen folds as the fifteenth came and went slowly, Remy only able to muster lighter pushes. The sixteenth and seventeenth made their way out almost lazily.

The final pearl sat heavy in Remy’s womb. His core was so tired and sore, he hardly had it in him to push it out. He brought a shaky hand to the bulge and pushed it down into his canal manually, mustering just enough energy to squeeze it out of his cunt. It landed in Finn’s hands, and was dropped into the bin with the rest.

Remy’s head flopped back onto the pillow, exhausted. Hours of pushing had sapped every bit of his strength. The ache in his belly was gone, replaced by a dull throb of soreness that extended from his stomach to his thighs. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over.

Finn gently ran a warm washcloth over all the wetness that had accumulated, both from slick and sweat. He threw the cloth into a hamper when he was done, then left the room. Remy almost fell asleep, but Finn came back with a cup of water and a sandwich and held them out for him with an apologetic look. Remy pulled himself up to chug the water and took a couple of bites of the sandwich before Finn spoke.

“I’m sorry about all this, it was my fault. I know some of the witches at the shop, I should’ve checked to make sure-”

“Babe, nobody would think to check if the boba they bought was cursed. It wasn’t your fault, and honestly it probably could’ve gone much worse. Nothing will be as bad as the ghosts, I think,” Remy said. “Maybe let’s be a little more hesitant on putting things in odd places though.”

“That’s probably a good idea with all the nonsense that goes on in this town,” Finn chuckled. “Maybe no more boba for a while.”

Remy nodded.

No more boba.

. . . for now.

[muffinsin]

What are your thoughts on man-spreading? Do you think the sisters would ever sit with their legs open? Whether they’re wearing trousers or possibly their dress. Literally anything I see on twitter, I imagine stuff, and this one, I imagine sitting on Cassandra’s lap, she’s wearing trousers and her legs are opened, her hand on her significant other’s waist.

-rambunctious anon

Oh absolutely!👀🙌 Now that’s a really good image🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Here’s my mini thoughts on this:

(Masterlists)

Bela

She does not manspread at any given time. Never

She sits very politely and “ladylike”, and usually even crosses her legs as she sits, lest you’re in her lap

Bela would not dream of manspreading! Her legs are always together, her thighs pushed up against another

This is mostly something to do with her status as Alcina’s eldest

She looks up to her mother, and wants to be viewed as just as regal and tidy as Alcina

She sees her mother sit in a typical ladylike fashion, and would not think of doing anything but copying her

Her thoughts on sitting with your legs apart?

She thinks of it as lazy looking and regularly scolds her sisters for it whenever she sees it

Should her s/o do it, they will also be scolded for it

Cassandra

She manspreads a lot, pretty much constantly when she’s sitting down

She barely crosses her legs, and even so, returns to sitting with her legs apart very soon

It’s just more comfortable this way

She doesn’t care what anybody thinks about this, either

When Bela scolds her for it, she only rolls her eyes

She doesn’t get why her older sister can’t be a little loose. Why she must always be so uptight and tidy with everything

Really, how far up does that stick go?

When she sits, Cassandra likes to keep her legs apart and even lean on one of her thighs at times

When she has a partner, she loves pulling them on her lap

They’ll sit on one of her thighs with her hand gripping their hip tightly

Her other hand rests on her thigh, fingertips tapping her clothed knee

Daniela

It depends on her mood, really

At times, Daniela sits perfectly ladylike, just like her oldest sister and mother

At other times, she slouches

And at other times, she sits with her legs apart like her older sister

Every option is comfortable to her depending on the situation

Either way, Daniela doesn’t sit all that much. She’s energetic, and is on her feet most of the time

She too rolls her eyes when Bela scolds her for not sitting “properly”, but is quick to sit upright and with her legs together again

Bela is, after all, one of her role models

Often it’s enough to see her sister sit properly for her to adjust her sitting position again

Though, Daniela has no qualms about how to sit “properly”

When her s/o manspreads, she doesn’t mind, so long as she still has space to sit too

Then again, if she doesn’t, it merely gives her an excuse to move on their lap

It all works out, really

[lazybutsmexy]

The sound of your voice

Konig x reader (GN)

Summary: König talks, you listen.

Warnings: brief description of violence and dangerous situation, mention of blood, light angst/comfort, pure fluff at the end.

Word count: 850

A/N: *whispers* I just love him so much...

On AO3

.................

There were no words that better explained your current state than absolutely exhausted. Or maybe you didn't have the mental energy to think of another word.

"...he's like, a chef, but of chocolates, and..."

The mission you've just come back from had lasted way longer than expected. And after three weeks of getting only a couple of hours of sleep per night - that is, if you were lucky of course -, all the mental gymnastics involved with going incognito and retrieving intel from the enemy had left you running on an empty tank.

"...it looks so creamy when he pours it on the table, too! And then he..."

You were nearly compromised, too. You didn't tell anyone until the danger had passed - you still didn't know how to tell König. It had all happened because of a mistake you had made nonetheless. All those restless hours could've costed you your life and the whole mission.

"...using different tools to carve the shapes, until the whole thing looks like it is covered in scales, but he also..."

You suppose you should feel hungrier. You did eat a couple of protein bars as soon as you got to the room. However, it seemed that your body was so tired that it was not even willing to ask for more nutrients. Should you be worried? Maybe, you weren't a doctor but you knew that it's not good to remain on an empty stomach or too long.

"..."

Although you knew that, you were also stubborn and wanted to lay here in bed, your back pressed to König's chest as he rambled about his latest obsession. You found it rather cute, how a topic could occupy his mind so intensely and yet be tossed away the moment he found something else to focus on.

"..."

A gentle hand strokes your side and you close your eyes with a sigh, but soon your brow furrows when the ringing in your ears reappears. Your mind drifts back to the mission, although you don't want it to.

"..."

The blood slipping through your fingers. The mangled body of a someone you couldn't save, lest it compromised your identity. The hands of the ringleader stroking your cheek, making the bile rise up to your throat.

"..."

It was too silent for your liking.

"... König?"

The man behind you stilled his movements, and you felt him tense a little against your back.

"...Ja, maus?"

"...why did you stop talking?"

His hand moved again, or rather his fingers did, fidgeting against the hem of your sleeping shirt, barely brushing the skin beneath and causing you to erupt in goosebumps.

"...I know you're tired after your mission," his voice was so soft you had to focus on every word to understand him.

"...And?" You pried, turning your head a bit to get him in your peripheral vision.

"...And," he exhaled, then a pause in which you could almost see him biting his lip, "I don't want to annoy you by talking a lot."

You blink once, twice, then fully turn to face him. Now you had a full view of his eyes anxiously searching for any hint of discomfort on your face. Your hand caressed the one still on your side and slowly slid it up his arm and onto his shoulder, something that never failed to make him shiver.

"...Why do you think that you could annoy me?" Your voice is quiet, but in the silence of the night rings like a drum kit in his ears. In contrast, his voice feels like a butterfly's whisper, his breath caressing your brow.

"I know that I can be annoying when I get too into a topic," he tries to appear nonchalant, but you know him better than that, you can see the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, "I'm used to it."

Your hand moves from his shoulder to his cheek, the tender touch causing him to close his eyes and lean into your palm.

"... Well, I find your rambling very soothing, König," his eyes open again, this time focusing on yours, "your voice keeps the dark thoughts away from my brain."

König stared at you in disbelief, but his arms pulled you a little tighter against him.

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes, big boy," you smiled at him and he all but melted inside, "I'm too tired to even think about how to interact in a conversation, but I do love the sound of your voice."

The cheek under your palm grew warmer, and König all but snuggled your face into his chest as he kissed the side of your head.

"Okay... Um..." You settled in, tangling your legs with his and reveling in the vibrations on his chest, which barely concealed his thundering heart, "...so, well, in the video I watched, once he finished with the dragon's shape, he..."

His voice acted like a balm on your overwhelmed senses, and his fingers tangled in your hair, stroking your scalp and massaging your nerves away.

You don't realize it when you shut your eyes, but his voice follows you all the way into the realm of dreams.

A/N 2: yes, I'm definitely talking about Amauri Guichon's chocolate art videos. I'm obsessed.

[korpuskat]

Unusual Preferences

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (Gender Neutral, has a vagina) Rating: Explicit WC: 2.1K Warnings: PWP, Urethral sounding, Nemesis form, under-negotiatied kink, if you read these and click through it's your own fault. If this isn't to your taste, I have another fic I'll post tomorrow that's more vanilla.

==

“A gift?” You repeat the phrase dubiously, eyeing up your partner. It should be exciting- and it is, given that he’s beckoning you closer, onto his so rarely used bed- but it’s even more suspicious.

“A gift.” Ramattra says again, guiding you to sit in his lap, your back to his chest. It’s always a touch uncomfortable in that base, physical way- his hard ridges cutting into the softness of muscle and fat of your form. Not that you’d change a thing- but the fact he doesn’t layer on a blanket between your bodies is all the suggestion you need to understand the nature of his gift, long before his hands settle on your hips.

Immediately, his hands begin to wander, not bothering with feigning innocence any longer. It’s a soothing touch to start with, smoothing the broad planes of his palms across your belly, your chest, your thighs. The attention makes you squirm, makes you lean further back against him, basking in his affections. “Mmhmm, well, is it a gift I’ll like?” You ask coyly.

For him to be teasing you like this, it has to be a new dick that he’s made for himself. Maybe one that vibrates- or one that cums. You’d floated that idea to him a while ago, and he’d seemed receptive. It was, after all, built entirely for your pleasure to begin with.

But the question instead makes his hands stop, his head shifts down to look over you more closely. “I hope so.”

That piques your interest- but Ramattra’s hand purposefully stroking between your legs has you sighing, resigning yourself to whatever plan he has. The excitement, however, nips at you. Normally you expect him to chide you for pulling your own clothes off, for being impatient, but it seems it must be driving him too, because while you pull your shirt over your head, Ramattra’s hands pull at your pants, leaving you bare against his cool metal.

He slows again, taking his time to linger across your chest, to stroke at the skin of your thighs. It’s as frustrating as it is thrilling. Enough of both to have you spreading your legs, urging him towards your center. The soft humming noise from Ramattra’s synth lets you know he enjoys it too. He doesn’t resist the temptation, bringing his hands in closer- and sliding one cool, firm fingertip up your slit. His teasing has done its job: your own slickness makes his finger glide effortlessly between your lips and up to circle your clit.

The touch leaves you sighing, rolling your hips languidly into his touch. “Ramattra…” You sigh and again, his voice box rumbles, the noise almost like purring. “Let me see,” You plead, working one hand between your bodies to grasp at that last section of plating on his torso where he hides his cock.

Instead, Ramattra’s free hand catches your arm and draws it away, folds both of your arms in to press to your sternum. “Not today.” He says- and this has you twisting in his arms to look at his faceplate, as though any explanation would be found there. His addition doesn’t help: “Maybe after.”

“What? Ramattra, what did you do?”

That little purring sound comes again- more intentional as he moves into a hum of contemplation. “You’ve been quite patient… considering.” Whatever barb he implies is soothed immediately with the finger that still circles your clit, and you don’t mention it, lest he decide to drag out his slow touches more. “Here,” He says, then keeps you held in place as he leans forward.

You start to question why- but a flash of violet light gives you your answer. You close your eyes against the brightness- and soon feel a new, cold pressure that encircles your legs, just above your knees. Blinking to get rid of the shadows in your vision- you’re met with the sight of his Nemesis hands curled around your legs. You flush hotly; usually this was only for when he needed the extra hands to hold you while fucking you. If he didn’t intend on revealing his dick then…?

You don’t even realize his fingers have left your clit until he’s retrieving a little gray case he’d stashed beside the bed. You don’t know what to think of it- storage for whatever toy he’s bought or made? It’s small and discrete- and when he retrieves the first one, your heart drops through your stomach. You suddenly feel so exposed- and instinctively you try to close your legs, only for Ramattra’s extra hands to keep them firmly open. Exposed and restrained and the sight of it alone has a new kind of tingling anticipation building in your belly.

“You left your private browser open.” His voice rumbles as he holds up the offending tool. It’s innocuous. A long, thin metal rod- so tiny it seems harmless. And Ramattra knows. He knows-

“Shouldn’t.” It’s the only word that comes to mind.

“I’ve read about it thoroughly. I got the smallest set with the slowest incline. I even considered how to keep you still.” He flexes the fingers on his Nemesis hands, squeezes his normal hand around your still-caught wrists. “...I even have a biotic field if needed.”

It should still be a no. Should be something kept quietly tucked away in the recesses of your mind- a dark little impulse you listen to only when you’re alone. “Fuck.” You hiss, watch as the metal rod shines tauntingly, “Yes, okay-”

It’s all the permission he needs. Ramattra brings the rod down- down between your legs, past the cleft of your body so you can no longer see where exactly the tip of it is. It’s long enough, however, for you to see the far end, where Ramattra holds it.

“Shouldn’t you… be looking?” You prompt, as you feel unfamiliar metal slide between your lower lips. In turn, the closest finger on each of his Nemesis hands draws those lips open, exposing your pussy to the cool room air.

“I have your body memorized.”

He says it as though it’s nothing. He’s memorized you; he knows where exactly it should go- and it makes you shiver on top of him, muttering “That shouldn’t be hot.”

But your excitement of Ramattra’s recorded knowledge of your body abruptly derails as the rod catches something. You take a breath- and it slides in.

“How is it?” His voice rumbles in your ear, and you struggle to exhale.

It’s hardly an inch, but every muscle tenses at the strange sensation. It’s… uncomfortable, an unusual fullness that almost just barely burns. But as you breathe, the sensation eases into just… pressure. A very, very weird pressure- almost like…

You scrunch your brow, peer down between your legs where the rod still extends from your body. If it wasn’t so small, it would almost feel like it wasn’t actually… where it was supposed to be. Almost like it’s…

“Are you… sure it’s in…?”

“Yes.” There’s no question about it. And he’s probably right, can probably visualize exactly where and how far in it is just based on his hand’s movement… but still.

You resist the urge to squirm, still so painfully aware of the metal rod protruding from your body. “It feels like…” Your cheeks heat- and in the face of not only having your little kink discovered but actually having to talk about it- you bury your face against his cloth-covered upper arms. Your voice falls to a whisper, and thank everything that his audials are as sensitive as they are. “It just feels like it’s in my pussy.”

His throat vibrates in a low hum, then carefully, he squeezes the hand around your wrists. “Don’t move.” He instructs you- and you nod carefully, but as soon as he frees your wrists, you grab at the same canvas you had just hid your face in. Easier to keep your hands out of the way if you’re holding onto him, anyway.

He moves his free hand slowly, lets you watch as he slides down the length of your body and, it too, disappears between your legs. One finger circles your entrance- and your mind just refuses to understand. You can see it- his hand is behind the rod, can feel that he circles the hole without obstruction- but it still just feels like-

Ramattra pushes that finger in.

And suddenly you understand. You gasp sharply and Ramattra freezes, locks every joint- “Did I hurt you?”- but with hardly the first joint of his finger you can finally understand the sensation. It felt like it was poking your pussy because it was your only point of reference, the only even vaguely familiar sensation you could recall, but now…

Now, Ramattra’s finger squishes that front wall up against the sounding rod which is definitely not in your pussy. No, it really is there- in that other, tinier hole just above.

“M’fine,” You gasp and every pulse you can feel where it is inside you. “Keep going,”

He obliges you, albeit slowly. The single finger in your pussy eases in and out in a carefulness that could almost pass as casual if you were not so very aware of the minimalness in his movements. It’s hardly any sensation at all, yet the rod lodged above heightens every second; that sensitive patch on your front wall is no longer just being rubbed from one side. With the sounding rod in place, it’s squeezed from both sides, making every stroke tighter, hotter.

He’s barely touched you and your skin feels like it’s on fire, the urge to squirm, to rut against the new sensation is strong. It takes everything to twist your fingers tighter into the canvas and ask for what you need, “Rama-” You gasp- “More, I- I need-”

He obliges, pushing a second finger into you. Such a little rod shouldn’t make your pussy feel so tight, but it does- and you can feel exactly how it lays so close to his fingers, how every notch in his digits rubs against your walls so sweetly.

And for the first time, Ramattra curls his fingers. He pushes purposefully against that spot, against the metal rod- and it’s electricity in your veins, a pleasure so sharp, so intense it almost hurts. All you can do is gasp, “Please- please-”

Ramattra provides- and a new sensation makes your breath catch in your chest. The fingers that had held the rod in place begin to move, easing the steel in and out by fractions of an inch. It feels… strange, like it’s sliding against the inside of your clit, even weirder where you can feel it moving against Ramattra’s fingers inside you. You whimper, clutching at him tighter, legs straining against his huge extra hands.

“How does it feel?” His voice hums near your ear, low and quiet.

The question makes you face it head-on, to confront the peculiar sensation, the unnatural fullness, the rubbing that’s not quite where it should be. “Good,” You gasp, “Please, Rama, m’close,”

Ramattra all but purrs, a soft vibration that rumbles through his chest and into your back. He shifts his hold on the sound, keeping the slow thrusting in perfect time as he lays his thumb against your clit and strokes in counterpoint.

It’s like a circuit being completed. Your mouth opens to exclaim, to warn him, but he already knows. Your whole body tenses, pleasure spilling over all at once- and it’s different. Where your pussy clenches around your fingers you can still feel the rod in place, keeping pressure against your walls. His Nemesis hands keep your legs spread, keep you still as he circles your clit, eases you through the waves of pleasure that persist on and on.

Only when you can finally gasp again, does he slow his motions and eventually slide his hands onto your thighs where he rubs along the muscle fondly.

You close your eyes, let the weight of your orgasm push you towards drowsiness. Ramattra, however, nudges his jaw against your head, “Should take it out.” He murmurs. You grumble, but nod your assent. The removal is just as strange as its insertion, and when Ramattra sets the tool aside, you glance at it again, shocking to once again see how small it is compared to how it felt.

Finally, Ramattra releases your legs. You turn over on him- and his Nemesis arms dissolve away in violet light. With one hand he grabs your blankets, pulling them up around you as you snuggle into his cowl.

“Thank you,” You slur, the sleepiness taking over.

“Of course.” Ramattra hums, stroking his fingertips along your spine. “You know you can tell me about your… preferences.”

You laugh softly, rubbing the silky fabric against your cheek, pressing your nose up under his jaw. “I'll keep that in mind.”

[aliveinacoffin]

Hello. Can i please request a part 2 of Hating You As Well? It was so good! 😩 Can part 2 be Aizawa’s and readers relationship developing and getting better throughout the year or something? Maybe throw in some aizawa getting a little jealous over reader’s relationship/friendship with another hero (maybe midnight or snipe)? Thank you so much! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write a part 2! xx

AAAHH I LOVE YOU GUYS FR 😭😭😭 and but of course, i live and breath to serve yall munchkins.

Hating You As Well

(And Loving You Just As Much)

Part One, Part Two (you're here dummy), Part Three

Aizawa still isn't honest with his feelings, but you weren't exactly one to jump ship and demand a relationship. So now, in this grey area, you two are forced to co-exist, while other feelings grow and fester.

Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns

TW!: Slight descriptions of violence, nothing too crazy, suggestive language

You two didn't speak about what happened on the couch afterward. You not wanting to bring it up and him just avoiding you. You got most of your papers graded, and when Aizawa finished with his portion, he rushed out of the living room. Your heart dropped to your stomach, watching him leave without a word. Sighing, you went back to your papers, trying to just get them done.

___________________________________________

The next morning was silent, the night before Aizawa hadn't come out of his room at all, and you watched his door, trying to listen to what he was doing. The next morning, you hadn't slept in, getting up early to go on a run. You knew Aizawa wouldn't be awake at this hour, but he probably would soon. So you started a large pot of coffee and grabbed a sports drink and made your way out.

The wait in the elevator was tedious, but you took the time to adjust yourself. Thinking about your life, thinking about him. Did you really like Aizawa? Maybe (yes), but did he like you? Maybe? I mean, there would be no other reason for him to also lean into a kiss, the feeling of his strong and large hand haunted you, fingers reaching around your shoulder blades. Dammit Hizashi, you spitefully thought to yourself.

But what would've come from it? Would there have been an awkward moment of 'where do we go from here?' or would there be an admission of feelings, but what feelings? Would there have been an unspoken moment of understanding?

You shook your head, willing away unnecessary thoughts. The elevator doors dinged open, and you happily trotted out, all you needed was an early morning run to clear your head, and everything would be fine.

___________________________________________

Okay everything was not fine.

When you came back, very sweaty and gross from your jog, you should work out more damn, Aizawa was already up. The slut* was walking around with absolutely no shirt on, and only the tightest goddamn pair of black boxers ever. His defined and scarred body on full display, lean but built body, languidly lounging around in the light morning sun. His dark and long hair was up in a messy bun, with a few strands of hair falling out. The scar beneath his eye was on full display, only adding to that rugged and overtly masculine look.

Cheap shot you bitch.

He was sipping coffee while leaning on one of the kitchen counters. Oddly on the one that faced the front door. He watched you pant in, immediately going to the cupboards to fill yourself a glass of water. You felt his eyes watching you, felt them watch and analyze every curve and scar, every dip and bump, every beauty and imperfection. You downed your cup, not acknowledging him in the slightest, lest you show the effect he had on you. Neither of you said a word to the other, not even a head nod to show that you had seen the other. Just ignoring him for the time being, with no complaints on the other end.

At the staff meeting later that day, you happily sat by Hizashi, joining in his excited chatter.

"I know this sounds cheesy, but I can't wait to see the students come back again! I've missed them." Hizashi swooned, a sad puppy dog look on his face.

You laughed and opened your mouth to join into his lighthearted admission before another voice cut you off.

"I don't, the little bastards have already gotten in enough trouble. I can't imagine what it'll be like when they move in." Aizawa grumbled out, looking in front of him with a disgruntled look.

You and Hizashi froze, just staring at him for a moment. He usually sat on the other side of you 'loudmouths,' usually too tired to deal with the shenanigans that you, said blonde, and Nemuri got up into. (Usually just passing notes between all three of you with the smashabiltiy of your coworkers and other heroes (also dicks, but not from the person you'd think)) So it was shocking to see him willingly sitting next to you three while earning a death glare from Anan, whose spot he'd stolen.

"Don't act like you don't love them you Tsundere. You'd probably eat your arm if it meant they were happy." You teased, sighing while you poked at him.

He deadpanned you for using such an outdated term but just grumbled while hiding his face in his scarf. Hizashi elbowed you, wiggling his eyebrows at you while smirking. You were confused for a second before you realized what he was implying, hitting his arm to make him stop. He yelped, angrily muttering curses at you while he looked down. Principle Nedzu loudly cleared his throat, standing up straight while looking at all of you. He clapped his soft hands, signing the beginning of the meeting.

___________________________________________

Well that meeting was a waste of your time. All the meeting was about how we should pay a little more attention to the students now that we're all in dorms. Those who work at night, namely Hizashi, Aizawa, Nemuri, etc., were asked to make sure they don't sneak out and do room checks randomly. Heroes who work in the day, you, Anan, Ken, and others were asked to make sure students acted right during the day, and stayed inside school property. Simple enough but...

"That could've just been an email." Nemuri sighed, peeling off her mask and putting her hair up. Ken was doing the opposite, putting down his cement-like hair and flattening it against his head.

"Agreed. I understand communication is important, especially during such difficult times but..." He sighed, rubbing his flat face.

"It's super annoying. We should all get coffee cups that say 'this meeting could've been an email' on them and just use them every time we have one." You sighed, adjusting yourself to make yourself more comfortable as well.

"Well, now that that's over, and we don't really have anything else to do...wanna go out for drinks?" Hizashi perked up, green sunglasses perched on his head, hair still gelled up.

"It's one o'clock in the afternoon." Aizawa scowled, looking disapprovingly at the man.

"I think he just wants to hang out rather than drink." You slung your arm over Aizawa. He scowled at you but didn't move your arm.

"No, I'm totally gonna drink." Hizashi said while walking backwards, already calling a cab.

"Oh yeah me too." Nemuri agreed, nodding her head.

___________________________________________

"I don't know why I came." Aizawa was acting pissy, laying down his head on his crossed arms, glaring at the loudmouths around him.

"Because you loveee us, admit it!" You sang, stirring the drink in your hands. You weren't drunk per say but you were definitely looser and happier now. "Cmon, won't you drink a little?" You looked down at him, smirk on your face.

He scoffed and looked away, sitting up straight. "Someone needs to get you home, and we share a living space, so I'm forced to babysit."

"Dawww, it's okay to show your emotions." You tugged on his uniform sleeve, putting yourself in his personal space.

"Hey!" Hizashi called out to you, definition more drunk than you were. "Let's do karaoke!" He motioned you over, pointing to Anan, who was already singing. You happily jumped up, waiting behind Sekijiro to sing.

When it was your turn, your singing was horrid. It was off-key and loud. Most of your friends just laughed and egged you on, spurring you to sing louder and worse. Still, even in your fuzzy mind you recognize on pair of dark eyes just staring at you. Not in a negative way, no, there was something in his face and eyes that made you quiet down some. Just so he knew you were singing for him.

___________________________________________

You don't know how you got home, but you did. Looking at the time, it was seven PM at night. You groaned, rubbing your head while your other hand limply hung off the couch. An oversized jacket was forced on you, baggy, and so so warm.

"Drink this." You looked up to the dark presence above, squinting at the harsh contrast of the shadow to the bright apartment. You got up and groggy drank the water.

"Thanks." You sighed, looking up at Aizawa.

"Sure. Just try to be more responsible next time. You have an image to uphold." He snatched back the cup when you finished, which you realized had prints of black cats on it.

"Mehmehmehmeh." You made a face, mocking him in a high-pitched voice while making a puppet with your hand. The man you were making fun glared at you from the kitchen, activating his quirk while washing your dish.

"I'm being serious. Anyone could've walked in and seen a UA teacher acting a fool at a bar." He growled, now in the drying process.

"Ahh, it was one drink! And plus, none of our dear students are gonna walk into a bar." You got up stretching, scratching your leg while walking past him.

"It was more than one drink!" He called out to you.

"One, ten does it matter?" You replied, entering your bedroom and shutting your door behind you, ending the conversation.

The next morning, you found yourself with a jacket you'd never had before. It was baggy, many sizes too large for you, and something right out of a goth magazine. You don't know where you got it from, but it was warm and comfortable, plus it smelt nice, so you added it to your closet.

___________________________________________

The students finally arrived and settled in the dorms, now UA dorm life was in full swing. It was peaceful to see such vibrant characters and youth constantly surround you, it filled you with a new vigor. That was, until now.

Loud crashing woke you up in the dead of night, and you immediately jumped up into action. You didn't yell or scream. Instead, you grabbed a flashlight and a small knife. You slowly opened your bedroom door, crouching out and keeping close to the wall. There was a large imposing figure standing in the middle of the hall, leaning against the wall while fussing with their boot.

Taking the chance, you kicked off the wall and laughed yourself forward. Landing on the interlopers back, you wrapped your arm around their neck, using your free hand to press the switch blade on their face. Your legs immediately wrapped around their muscled frame, trapping yourself onto them.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home." You growled in their ear, putting pressure on the knife to start to dig into their cheek.

"Getting my dumbass kids." Aizawa growled out, hands trying to rip you off of him.

You froze for a second, eyes going wide and mouth going slack.

"Huh!?" You yelled out, toppling off of your roommate. Knife clattering somewhere into the kitchen.

Aizawa turned to you, pissed off and resuming his fussing with his shoes. He tilted his head in your direction but not looking at you. You sat on the ground, still processing everything.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Did I get you anywhere?" You finally came to your senses, scrambling up to check him. Grabbing his chin, you tilted his head back and forth, inspecting.

"I'm fine. I've got to go." He ripped his head back, leaning away from your touch. He finally got his boots of fully, walking into the kitchen and to the front door.

"No you're not, I cut you." You ran into the kitchen, pulling out the first aid kit from under the sink.

"It's fine." He was already at the door, but you ran to him and grabbed the back of his shirt.

"No, it's not, I could've really hurt you." You had grabbed an antiseptic wipe and a bandaid to clean up the cut you made on him. It was small, a nonconsequential wound. But you still took delicate care to cleaning it and covering it up. He didn't get the chance to see what kind of bandaid you put on him, but he felt that it was small.

"As if." He mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as he accepted your gentle touch. There was no bite in his tone, like he was just saying it to say it, to keep up an image. You pulled back, and gave him a once-over.

Aizawa opened his eyes again, and turned to the door to hide his face from you.

"Now you can get your dumbass kids, asshole." You smiled softly, and even if he couldn't see your face, he registered the softness in your tone. The fondness.

When Aizawa got done with yelling at his two problems children, he turned and stomped away, leaving them to be angry at him.

Midoriya remembered something for a moment and hesitantly turned to his rival/best friend.

"Hey Kacchan, was there a Hello Kitty bandaid on his face?" Midoriya seemed a little dumbfounded. It couldn't be true, Aizawa with a bandaid on his face, let alone a Hello Kitty one?

"Hah? The fuck are you talking about?" Bakugo was still clearly pissed, but he was more taken aback than angry.

"That little pink sticker on him, I could swear I saw Hello Kitty on it." Midoriya responded, adamant that he did see it.

Bakugo was silent for a moment, and the freckled boy thought he was ignoring him. So he just sighed and returned inside.

Bakugo smirked a little, now fully remembering. Yeah, he was.

___________________________________________

The next morning you decided to ask what happened.

"My two biggest problems decided to sneak out and fight. It hasn't even been a week, and they're already trying to kill each other." Aizawa angrily muttered into his cup of coffee.

You stared at him for a second, pursing your lips. "Did you expel them?" You tilted your head, eyeing him warily.

"I wish." He chuckled, drinking his coffee.

"Ah, so they're your favorites." You smiled, wiping your hands and heading to serve yourself a plate of food. You heard the stern teacher sputtering behind you, coughing as a result of his reaction.

"I have no favorites, and those two would never be them." He responded, setting down his cup heavily.

"But you didn't expel them. You just gave them house arrest and chores. Your favorites." You shrugged, turning around to smirk at him.

"Well, it..." Aizawa shook his head, face pulling into one of anger as he looked for an excuse. He gave up, flopping his hands down to look at you. "They'll learn. They just need more discipline. It's hardly a call for expulsion."

"Let's see," You set down your toast to count examples. "Sneaking out after curfew barely a few days into moving into dorms, destructive of school property, assault on another student, three students snuck out without permission to save another classmate, Midoriya being the ringleader, anddd..." You screwed up your face, and you tried to remember more. You snapped your fingers and pointed at the scowling Aizawa. "Oh! First day, you should've expelled Midoriya and transferred him to another class, but you didn't." You leaned on the counter and tilted your head. "Instead, you let him stay in the hero course because you believed in him. Plus, that whole unwritten speech about Bakugo when he was kidnapped? There was nothing in our notes that said anything of what you said. But you said it anyway, from your heart."

Aizawa had a carefully neutral face, just staring at you while you grilled him.

"So my only crime is believing in my students." His voice was monotone, any semblance of emotion wiped from his face. If it were anyone else, you would've thought they were pissed at you or angry. But you knew better, you recognized that face from last night. The 'I'm pissed because I expected better from you' face.

"No," You grabbed your plate and walked past Aizawa to lounge in the living room, patting his shoulder as you walked. "Your only crime is having a huge heart, but the inability to even show you even have one."

___________________________________________

There was no real reason for you to be here, you thought to yourself. You barely helped out when the kids picked out their ultimate moves, and you were definitely not one of the teachers who regularly trained with the kids, but you still found yourself being dragged to go to the hero licensing exams.

You adjusted your hero costume, pulling down and pulling up the outfit where need be.

"Why am I coming again?" You asked Aizawa, turning to him to see he was already staring at you.

He shrugged, "Principal Nedzu just said you were to come." He looked away, fiddling with his phone while he waited for you to get ready.

"Well, sure, I got that, but he didn't email me, and I don't exactly see why-" You were still pulling yourself together, grabbing an over-the-shoulder bag and checking whether or not you had your keys, your wallet, and extra makeup and other stuff you might need.

"Are you ready yet? At this rate, we'll hold up the whole class and make them late." He interrupted you, crossing his arms impatiently.

You deadpanned him and adjusted the strap. "Yes, I'm ready. Dick." You stuck your tongue out at him while he held the door open for you, trying to push you out.

"You need to watch your mouth more. Who knows who's listening." He scolded, pressing the elevator button. The elevator dinged open, and you two stepped inside. Aizawa went to press the floor button, but you beat him to it. He gave you a look.

You smiled. "I like pressing the buttons."

"What are you, a child?" He scoffed.

"Then you'd be a predator." You shot back without thinking. Both of you realized what you meant by that, but before you could spit out on explanation, the door opened again.

Hizashi strolled in, whistling a tune. "Hey guys!" He cheered, ignoring the tension behind him. "What's up?" He turned around, looking at your blushing face and Aizawa's blatant ignoring of you.

"Nothing, what are you up to?" You chuckled, rubbing your head.

"Gonna go out and be a radio host and communications guy." He smiled, but you heard the strain in his voice.

Your bashful attitude dropped, and you held out a hand. "Hey, don't spread yourself super thin." You advised, voice full of worry.

The elevator dinged to all of your last stops, and Hizashi strolled out before the two of you, walking backward to face you.

"Don't worry about me! I'll be fine." He waved you off, turning around to walk normally with his hands in his pockets.

"I worry about him sometimes." You admitted, stuck in place. Aizawa walked out before you, holding the elevator so it didn't close on you.

"He's fine, trust me. Hizashi doesn't think about much other than music and having fun." He shrugged, looking off.

"That's because he thinks through you. He speaks Aizawa and thinks Aizawa." You stepped out, walking out the bottom common room to the main grounds of UA.

Aizawa shrugged, not saying anything as he followed you. You looked out to all the excited students, the air buzzing with conversation.

Aizawa got his classes' attention, speaking to all his students.

"Now listen up. This is the most important test of your life, and only fifty percent of the whole student body will pass." That made the class tense up and freeze, dramatic whispers grew between them. "Even though some of you are in trouble." He made direct, unashamed eye contact with both Midoriya and Bakugo, "You will all take the test. Now let's go before we're late." He led the class in the bus, you two being the last ones in.

"They're your favorite." You sang, tapping your knees. You two were sitting in separate seats, but you two were as close to the edge as possible.

"Keep your voice down." He snapped but didn't deny it.

___________________________________________

Ms. Joke was awesome.

She shamelessly flirted with Aizawa, if not being a bit pushy with it, and teased him.

You knew of her, you had some run-ins with her when you first debuted. She was a light-hearted, strong woman who had a good sense of humor, she often used to make you double over in full-out belly laughter. But there was something different this time, she was funny, that didn't change, but you weren't laughing so hard you cried now.

"Eraser," Ms. Joke was barely holding back laughter now, "Your fly is down."

You and Aizawa sat next to each other while Ms. Joke was two seats away from you two. That... wasn't all that funny....huh. Maybe Aizawa's bitterness rubbed off of me? Aizawa just sat there like he hated the world, but especially her right now.

"I can't believe you have a full class! Usually, you would've expelled someone by now. You must actually like your class." She turned to him, and you leaned over.

"Right! I think he has a secret soft spot for all of them, but especially-" You exclaimed, excited that some outside of UA had noticed this.

Aizawa cut you off by putting his hand in front of your face, now angry at the world, Ms. Joke, and you.

She laughed, and you giggled. "You're so predictable! Date me." Ms. Joke immediately turned to him.

"Shut up." He scowled, and she just laughed in response.

You sat back up now, looking at him teasingly. "If I have a say-"

"You don't."

"I think you two would make a great couple!" You grabbed Aizawa's shoulders and leaned him to the loud woman, and she just laughed in response. Strangely, you could see her breath from this angle, but you could also see Aizawa's hair float up for a mere second before it dropped again. An action so small and unnoticeable that if you hadn't been so close, you wouldn't have seen it.

You let go, and she leaned to you two, a slightly angry look on her face.

"But c'mon, you both know what's going to happen in just a few seconds." Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a strained smile.

You looked at the dark man beside you, really he sticks out pretty bad here, and gave him a confused and slightly scared look.

You heard her say something earlier, but you had no idea what it meant, let alone now.

"And yet, you didn't say a thing to your class. Every year the test is always different." She rested her chin on her fist, looking determined out on the field. Aizawa was blankly doing the same, but there was a different look in his eye, one you recognized. One of a teacher who knows what his students can do.

You were shifting on your seat, watching class 1-A break up into factions, trying to understand what the other woman was saying.

"It's a tradition during the exam, most if not almost all of the students have equal footing. Except for one." She dropped her hand, sitting up straight. You were watching her, a feeling of foreboding coming over you as she delved more and more into her dramatic rant.

"UA has a serious disadvantage. Showing off the country's top schools sports program to the whole country, which showed off not just your students' quirks, but their weaknesses and their fighting styles too." Your eyes widened, and you turned back to the field. Watching the majority of the class you grew to care about deeply, be unknowingly followed. "It's a little funny, isn't it?"

That made your heart race, surprise written all over your face. Aizawa ignored her, eyebrows deepening.

"If you actually liked your class this year, you should've warned them about this. It happens every time your school takes the exam, UA is immediately crushed." She said, and to prove her right, a crowd of students all aimed for one group. Yours.

You looked at Aizawa, wondering why he kept quiet about all this. He glanced at you briefly before nodding his head back to the field with the tiniest of motions. That feeling of dread was replaced with pride as you watched Midoriya effortlessly kick away a storm of balls with one kick. From this angle, Ms. Joke assumed you turned away from Aizawa, feeling a little awkward that she had now seemingly made you upset. What she didn't see was your proud smile, your smirk of arrogance. Yeah, they'll be fine.

"I don't really see a reason why I should've warned them. Nothing would've changed if I did, either way, they would've had to deal with it." You and Aizawa watched as your students effortlessly dodged and moved, using their quirks to the best of their abilities to take back the advantage that was stripped away from them. It was taking everything in you not to just cheer out for them, not to scream, hell yeah!

"Real heroes turn around any situation. Besides, when they become pros in the spotlight, they'll have to face villains who already know their quirks." His voice was stern and sharp, with no room for argument. "Perhaps at UA, we look further ahead than other schools." Even though he still had that monotone voice, Aizawa had a passion for his students, one that he barely contained.

A dark shadow fell over the laughing woman's face, now at an angle where she could see the both of you. She watched with bated breath as you watched Aizawa. Smiling while she huffed out a nose laugh. She recognized that look, looking down at her ring finger, she fiddled with the gold ring. There were rings decorating all her other fingers, but the one on that ring was the first and most important one. She's made that face hundreds of times at her own wife, and only a fool would mistake it for anything else.

___________________________________________

“‘UA looks further ahead than other schools’, huh? That’s pretty condescending of you to say Eraser.” Ms. Joke piped up, the two had been going back and forth, but you decided to ignore their banter in favor of anxiously watching the students, afraid. “There are as many kids who want to be heroes as there are stars in the sky. The strength of that will has nothing to do with being famous.” Ms. Jokes face had gone back to being serious, and it made you a little unsettled. The woman, in even the short amount of time you’d known her, had taken everything with a grain of salt. Never the one to take offense to someone's words or actions. But here she was scolding Aizawa. They really were the same. They hide the same deep love and care for their students, and the moment someone says something slightly mean, they pop off.

“If you act like you’re the stars of the show and look down on everyone else, then you’re only showing off your true weakness.”

While her words were true, they seemed a little misplaced. Aizawa constantly humbled the students to remind them that no matter how far they got, they would always have room to grow and improve. Not just in their physical strength, but their mental capabilities as well. Maybe it was about the students themselves? Bakugo and Monoma were the students that popped up in your mind immediately.

“You’re right, we will take your advice and make sure our stars don’t think they’re the only ones who shine.” You nodded, sliding your eyes over to her. She nodded, a small smile on her face. Aizawa looked over at you in a questioning manner. 

“Our students are great and all, but sometimes they need to be reminded that they’re not the main character, even if they act like it.” You smiled slightly, easily finding Bakugos yelling from in the arena.

“...Agreed.”

___________________________________________

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the test ended. Rubbing sleep from your eyes you walked by Aizawa while he went through the paper work he now needed to fill out. 

“You know, I’m starting to see why you’re so tired all the time.” You laughed, tapping the stack of appears in his hands.

He gave an airy laugh, “Sometimes I think they do it on purpose.”

“Well, I can do some it for you. I don’t spend as much time with the kiddos like you do, but I’m sure I could get the hang of it.” You offered, slightly pouting your lips. 

“You’d probably mess it up, or mark them in that atrocious pen you have.” He shook his head, tilting the papers away from you.

“Huh?! Why do you have such little faith in me!? I’m trying to be nice, you-” Kaminari was with his usual group of friends, but he was side-eying the two of you, snickering while watching your interaction. “Jerk.” 

“Good save.”

“Shaddup.” You punched his arm, snatching some of the papers away from him. “I can do this, no sweat, and I promise to use a normal pen.” 

He glared at you, before sighing and shaking his head. “Fine.”

Ms. Joke trotted up to you two and offered to do joint training. Aizawa accepted the offer and walked away, loading all the students onto the bus. 

She turned to where you were still standing, trying to organize and smooth out the stolen reports. “My real name is Emi Fukukado, by the way.” She held out a business card in her gloved hand.

You took it appreciatively. 

“Thanks!” You introduced yourself in turn, shaking her hand.

“Hey, between us two, you and Eraser would make a pretty cute couple.” Fukukado said nonchalantly, smiling easily.

“Hah?!” You exclaimed, freezing on the spot. Your face grew hot, and you tightened your grip on the jokesters hand.

Fukukado pulled away, smile never going away. “I recognize that look in your eyes when you look at him, and Aizawa doesn’t put up with just anyone you know.” She laughed slightly, putting her hands on her hips. “Trust me, my wife looks at me like that all the time, and we’ve been married about ten years now!” 

“Hahhhh?! You’re married?!” 

___________________________________________

“You didn’t know? She always wears her wedding ring.” Aizawa sat down heavily beside you on the couch, grunting while he leaned forward. 

“She wears like, ten. How would I know?” You shrugged, pulling down the black pen behind your ear, unglittered unfortunately, to continue your journey of legal HPSC papers. 

“Didn’t you know her when you were younger?” He raised an eyebrow to you, his dark hair out of his face and into a bun.

“Yeah, but we weren’t friends. It was more like, you’re a young woman in the same male-dominated field as me, if anything goes down we’ll have each other's backs. Not friends friends. I literally just learned what her name is.” You turned your attention to the work, already halfway through your stack, while Aizawa was just starting his.

“Women are weird.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah? You’ve known Hizashi since high school and you still deny you two are literally best friends.” You rolled your eyes, remembering how vehemently Aizawa denied the two literally aren’t two peas in a pod.

“Because we’re not. We’re good friends.” You groaned and flicked a pen cap at him. He growled at you, but otherwise turned back to his work.

“Anyyyways, I still feel kinda bad that Todorki and Bakugo failed. That test was really important, and they’re the only two in 1-A who failed.” You sighed, eyes running over Bakugo’s paper.

“That’s their own fault, if they had seen above their own hubris, they would’ve acted better and passed. They will learn to do better at the retake.” The dark-haired man shook his head, sighing.

“True, it was their own pride that was their downfall.”

“Make sure to mark the date in your calendar, it's about three months from now.” He added nonchalantly, now fully focused on the papers.

You looked up and made a confused face. “Why would I need to, I’m not their homeroom teacher?” 

He didn’t respond for a moment, avoiding eye contact. You saw his ears go red slightly at the tips, perking up. “Because you went with me to the first exam, why not help me at the provisional?” 

“W-well, I guess. But I won’t be of much help.” You looked away, remembering the words Fukukado told you the other day making you go hot yourself. 

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds now were the ticking clock and the sounds of papers shuffling and pens scraping. 

It was nice.

___________________________________________

“Wait wait wait-” You were laughing now, holding a hand over your mouth. Hiazshi was smiling at you, and Midnight was shaking her head in disbelief. “He got naked?” 

“He didn’t get naked, his quirk made his clothes phase through him. So he ended up naked. There’s a difference.” Aizawa shook his head, sipping his coffee.

You laughed out loud now, leaning on Hizashi’s shoulder while he joined with you.

“I was shocked at first too! I mean, yeow! Everything was out.” That only spurred you on more, tears gathering in your eyes.

“Oh man,” You sighed, wiping away those tears. “I hope they helped him out with his costume, I mean, there’s no way that's safe.” You shook your head, sitting on Hizashi's armchair now.

“They did, they made it out of his hair, so it would phase with him.” He nodded, stuffing food in his mouth. You quirked an eyebrow but ignored it.

“That must’ve taken forever.” 

“Yes, it did.” Aizawa butt in, now fully paying attention to the both of you. You couldn’t see Hizashi smirk, but you were caught off guard by such aggressive behavior. 

“Oh,” You looked away, now feeling slightly awkward. “What was the point of them visiting, anyway? I mean, not that it’s bad to introduce the classes to the big three, but why now?” 

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “To have them talk about the work studies.” 

The air in the teacher lounge shifted, now to a tense one. There was a meeting the day before the new term started, an open discussion on whether or not UA students should be allowed to even let them participate in them. Just like the internships, it was a heavily debated argument. You, Aizawa, Snipe, and Anan were against it, saying it well it went last time would only embarrass/harm UA’s reputation further. Nemuri, Sekijiro, Ken, and Ectoplasmi were for it, their reasoning that the students would need the practice. Others fell in between and allowed themselves to be swayed by the opinions of others.

“Oh.” That was all you said.

“Yeah.” That was all he replied with.

When the school day ended, Aizawa met you at home. He angrily kicked off his boots and hung up his capture scarf by the door. You turned around from the sink, hands wet from washing the dishes.

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” He looked up at you, standing at the doorway. “I don’t agree.”

“I don’t either.” You turned back, immediately knowing what he was talking about.

When the HPSC had first sent the letter to UA stating they would like the school to participate in the work studies, the teachers erupted in conversation. When the staff didn’t agree, Aizawa stood up an brought all the attention to him.

“Did we forget what happened the first time we allowed our students into the hands of the HPSC? My own students had gone off and could’ve gotten killed. I had no idea, thanks to the lies administered by the commission. Do we need a repeat of that?” He sat back down, looking angrily out at his fellow staff. You stood up beside him.

“I agree, who knows what danger is out there, and we all know from the past that the Hero Commission will just lie to us.”

Snipe nodded in agreement beside you. Ectoplasim stood up. “I assume your classes will have their provisional licenses now? Our students have grown since then, and they now have the ability to make their own calls and decisions.” He rebuttled. This statement only made a fight break out.

In the end, your side lost.

Aizawa was leaning on the counter beside you, hands clutching the counter in a white-knuckled grip. “They lied to us, three students could’ve died.” His voice cracked at the end, face screwed up in anger. You whipped your head at him, looking at him wide-eyed.

You decided not to say anything about his emotions, instead, you dried your hands and turned to him fully. 

“Want to spar?” You offered, holding out his goggles. Aizawa stared at them, then stared at you for a long moment. He snatched them up and quickly put them on. Wordlessly, he got back dressed in his hero outfit, and you complied by getting your shared duffle bag and followed him out. You both had decided to share a bag, hey, it would be easier to carry one than two, since you spar so often anyways.

___________________________________________

The next few weeks became hell. Immediately something was brewing, you, Aizawa, and other UA students were invited to an important meeting hosted by Sir Night Eye. You’ve heard of him, mostly through what you know about All Might, but you have never really seen him in action. He was a pretty cool dude, if not a little too serious for your liking. You could only deal with one grumpy man in your life, you didn't need to. There were also friends you made through your line of work, like Toyomitsu/FatGum, Takagi/Rock Lock, and Mr. Brave, you never learned his name, interactions were always brief, but friendly.

You mostly just listened in, you didn’t really have any new or helpful information to hand out to aid in the meeting. You had become slightly boring ever since you became a hero at UA, hero work slightly slacking now that tests and assignments stood in your way of aiding your friends. That is why you had an uptick in your sparring matches with Aizawa, no excuse to fall behind.

Takagi spoke up, questioning why your students were here in the meeting. Toyomitsu, in a burst of passion, declared that the students had valuable information to share. He then introduced himself, and when his attention turned to your side of the table, you waved at him happily.

Aizawa looked at you through the corner of his eyes, a small smile on his face. You elbowed him in response, brushing him off. Aizawa was called to speak, and his leg started to bounce from under the table, only you noticed.

“The bullets effects seem to be different from my Eraser. When my quirk is activated, I don’t attack the quirk itself, instead, I temporarily affect the genes themselves, but no permanent or harmful damage is done.”

“Immediately after Takami was shot, we rushed him to the hospital to have him looked at. We found his quirk was deactivated, but thankful after his rest he was returned back to normal.” That was a relief, not only were the effects of the bullet temporary, like Takagi had said, but the effects weren’t harmful in the long run. When it was revealed that the contents of the bullets were filled with human blood, everyone froze. Disgust filled you, wondering what kind of person would do that. 

“A man named Kai Chisaki is the young Yakuza head of this group, and is turning his daughter's body and blood to make the bullets.” You had decided to tune back into the conversation at the worst possible moment, or maybe you tuned out during the worst conversations of your life, your body tensing up as horror filled you. Aizawa sat slacked beside you, his eyes widening in horror as well. Tears sprung into your eyes, and your hand immediately flew up to cover your trembling mouth. How..how could anyone do that to a little girl? Let alone their own daughter?

The meeting went on with the same tense and angry energy, people piping up with their own angry opinions. You watched with a feeling that you were floating outside of your body as Nighteye folded more and more into himself. The pressure everyone putting on him only added to the guilt you knew he carried. 

The meeting was over late into the afternoon, and packets and folders of information were handed out to all of you. Aizawa was to patrol more in the designated at night, and any possible chance you were to follow yours.

Now you were situated in Aizawa’s car, his hands gripping the steering wheel while you leafed through both folders.

“Lock Rock is right. There’s no need for them to be there.”

“I know.” Your voice was watery, sniffing while you tried not to cry onto the packets. “But we don’t have a choice.”

There was silence when he rolled up to a red. A large hand came into your peripheral, pulling the folders away from you. Aizawa threw them in the back of his car, and you heard them scatter. 

“Don’t worry about that now, we can go through them when we get home.” You looked up at him, and while his expression was still guarded and hard, there was something soft hidden in his face. Maybe it was the way his eyebrows were turned up ever so slightly, or his sad eyes, either way, you nodded.

“I just hope we can save that little girl. She’s so small, and she must be so scared.” The light turned green, and he resumed his journey.

“We will, I know we can.”

___________________________________________

The next few weeks were hellish, after school you barely saw Aizawa, and he in turn hardly saw you during breaks/lunches/and during the weekends. You worked from sun up to sunset, using as much time as you could. During the day he worked with the others to make sure everyone was updated on information, whereas during the night you caught up on both your school work and added your own information. You left coffee and easy lunches for him to take out, and he left you jelly packets and energy drinks. 

Finally, there was one day when both of you were home, lying exhausted on the couch together. You were lying on your back, hands covering your eyes while you rested your legs on his. Aizawa complained at first but made no move to stop you, too focused on his iPad sifting through and adding important information. 

“Apparently, Nighteye has picked out people he thinks are assisted with Kai Chisaki. He’ll try to find out more before we move further.” He said out loud, not doing anything to get your attention.

“Good.” Your voice was raspy and tired, flopping your hands down you could barely keep them open. “I’m so tired.” Your voice was filled with pure exhaustion, running on less than thirty hours of sleep for the whole week.

“Me too, I can feel this coming to an end.” You could still hear him clicking away.

“God I hope so, I just want to save her already, I’m starting to see Eri in my goddamn dreams.” You shook your head, tears hotly running down the corner of your eyes. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was because of how emotionally drained you were, but you just couldn’t hold back the floodgates.

You heard Aizawa stop tying, but you didn’t dare look over at him.

“Me too.” His voice was filled with utter grief.

___________________________________________

Finally, it was the day.

Nighteye had found one of Chisaki’s minions and tracked down the spot where they had been keeping Eri. Now everyone had gathered around in a large group, waiting anxiously in the bright early morning for their commands. You were following Aizawa tiredly, energy absolutely sapped out of you. Aizawa walked up to Midorya, who was surrounded by the only other UA students. 

“I am moving with the Night Eye agency.” You peeked out from behind the dark man, waving happily at your students, string to hide how tired you were. “Do you understand what that means?” 

Midoriya nodded, a hard look on his face. Aaizawa turned back to you, grabbing your shoulder to push you away. “What was that about?” You asked, confused as you turned and waved goodbye.

“He still hasn't earned my trust for running off last time, so I told him I expect him to do things right this time.” He looked down, still walking to get in position.

“You’re such a hardass.” You smiled, shoulders bouncing while you looked away.

“Good, then they stay on their feet and do their best.”

___________________________________________

Chaos quickly erupted outside, and you were stuck batting away villains with clubs of pure light. You swung around your makeshift weapons, filled with electricity and a feeling of burning pain. Police surrounded you, blocking your view of not only the entrance but of your allies. 

“This way!” A strong hand grabbed your arm, and you turned and growled. Your guard dropped when you saw Aizawa dragging you inside with him. Quickly, you put as much light as you could in your pockets, quickly closing them so they wouldn’t escape.

“I’m getting kind of worried, man.” Takagi admitted, looking around for any dangers.

“I wonder if anyone leaked information.” Amajiki admitted aloud, but the chief rebuttled him.

“If they had, one would think they’d be smarter to avoid us.”

“They all should be used to working together already, a bond formed through devotion to their boss. They might feel ashamed now, Chisaki and the top brass haven't even shown themselves yet. They’re probably underground getting ready to flee or hide right now.” Aizawa pipped in. All of you were still running down the impossibly long hallway, hearts racing as one.

“No, there’s no way. That villain busted out the doorway as soon as the chief rang the doorbell, no one just does that. Plus, with how big these guys sound, there's no way they’d just leave.” You shook your head, mind swarming with what was to happen. Kirishima looked over to you, conflicted on whether to agree with his homeroom teacher or his history teacher.

“Either way, we’ll take them down.” He decided to say, not favoring either theory.

Suddenly, Nighteye skidded to a halt, stopping in front of an indent in a wall. He seamlessly opened a secret door, and everyone was thankful for his foresight. 

Three henchmen popped out of the darkness, trying to take the group by surprise. However, they were unable to be successful with Bubble Girls and Centipeder's quick thinking. They stayed back with Nighteye’s order to make sure they didn’t come after your group, and you rushed down a concrete hallway, only to be halted by a dead end.

Takagi called out to Nighteye in anger, but Midorya and Kirishima quickly resolved the problem by kicking through the thick wall that had been placed up. The room suddenly became less solid and started shaking around in an ocean. Panic filled the room as it rolled and changed around you, shoving you all around. You, Aizawa, and Toyomitsu formed a triangle. 

“Eraser, can’t you get rid of it?” Takagi yelled out, but Aizawa just shook his head. 

“Not if I can’t see the main body.” He called out, voice strained as he fought off nausea. 

“We need to hurry!” Your voice wobbled as you tried to find steady ground, “If they’re changing the building, then they can escape before we can even get to the end of the hallway!” You tried to step forward, but the mere action of moving knocked you off kilter, so you stood, fighting off gravity as you tried to move. You have to try!

The room stopped moving as violently, and Lemillion took action to run ahead, moving through another hall. You wished you could follow him, try and at least be there for the kid. A scream ripped out of your throat as the ground under you disappeared. You landed on your stomach, the breath knocked out of you on the dirty floor. Aizawa heaved you up, looking around and assessing the situation. 

Three villains made themselves known, launching themselves at Amajiki. Eraser quickly stepped up, erasing the blonde quirk before he could do serious damage to the kid. 

“Suneater-!” You called out, trying to stop his stupidly brave act.

“Go! I’ve got it.” He turned to you all, nodding towards another hallway, the others ran ahead, but Midoirya, Aizawa, and you staggered for a moment.

“Make sure you tie them up, my quirk will wear off soon.” He jogged off, the green-haired boy behind his teacher.

You nodded at him. “I believe in you, do your best.” You nodded at him before following your companion. Quickly you lost Toyomitsu and Kirishma, as they were sucked into and trapped in another room. 

“We have to keep going, there's no time.” Aizawa pulled you forward, trying to get you to keep moving.

“I know, it just feels like we’re purposely being split apart.” You followed him, worry filling your entire being. 

Takagi locked the room in place as soon as it started to move again, even if it was a tight fit, it allowed you all to push forward.

“Stand back, he’s coming from the places I haven't locked down.” Takagi held out a hand to stop you all from moving forward, and you watched as the end of the hallway rushed towards you all.

Midorya rushed again, kicking away an entrance point. The path never cleared, so the young boy continued his assault. The wall immediately retracted, clearing away the path for you. 

“What the hell..?” You wondered but were quickly cut off by the room changing once more, separating the main group into smaller groups. You were stuck with Aizawa and Midorya.

The wall dropped again, revealing two Takagi’s, and you stood in confusion between the two of them. Aizawa was fast and quickly attacked the fake Takagi before it could attack Midoriya. Himiko Toga was forcefully revealed, squealing while she chased after the boy. As effortlessly as he could, he dragged the crazed girl away, but not without getting stabbed in the shoulder.

Once more the room shifted, and tunnels of dirt and concrete erupted from the walls, you all looked around widely, trying to see where the dirt was coming from. Midoriya took action almost immediately, shooting up to kick where he thought Mimic was. The boy revealed the villain, and in an instant he erased his quirk, watching him fall to his death. 

“The League betrayed them?” Aizawa questioned looking out to where the two voices had come from.

“Seems so, and they used us to aid in their scheming. Though, at least we're on solid ground now.” Nighteye adjusted his glasses, looking forward to the dark hallway, police officers scattered around.

You took a moment to recap and interrogate Irinaka, but that led him into an angry frenzy. 

“As officers of the law, we cannot let them escape.” The chief held up his gun, his underlings looking around as well.

“It sounded like they were escaping, we should focus on our top priority for now instead of going into a circle.” You said, looking around. Takagi agreed with you, deciding to split up the pros with the mission and the police with the League. He decided to stay, you pulled out a small knife, handing it to him.

“Just in case.” He nodded, face still screwed up in pain. 

His speech renewed the hope in your heart, you and Aizawa shared a glace and immediately ran ahead to save Eri, trying to catch up before it was too late.

Following in Midorya's shadow, he bounced ahead of the villain lying on the ground, smashing the wall in front of the group. There a sight for only the strong-hearted was seen, Chisaki and Togata were already engaged in battle, with the electric blonde already having a considerable amount of damage. Aizawa immediately yelled out commands, ordering you to round up the fallen villains. Already quickly rounding up the three villains, you were hit in Chisaki order to Chrono. Aizawa called out to Midoriya, but his body screwed back to look at you. You grunted in pain, feeling like your body was put under molasses. Chrono had gotten straight through your side, cutting a clean medium-sized hole in your midsection. And before anyone could stop him, or help him, Aizawa blinked.

The ground erupted in spikes, sending you flying through the air. Thankfully, you landed in a hole in the ground before you could get caught by the spikes. Aizawa and Chrono were already down there, the latter of the two setting atop Aizawa. Both of you were practically paralyzed, with Aizawa immediately incapacitated by his quirk. He spent the time monologuing about Chisaki, explaining the relationship that Eri had with the others in the Yakuza. Shut the hell up you scum. You couldn’t even growl out loud. Straining as you tried to get him, you were behind the two, and he must not have even realized you were down here. You heard Aizawa grunting as he slowly moved away, you watched as Chrono took out Aizawa’s own knife, opening and getting ready to stab the man with it.

You took out a small piece of light from earlier, the electric gold energy lighting up the dark room.

“Huh?” He looked around to see you, and in one fell swoop, you slashed along his Achilles heels. “You bitch.” He groaned out, dropping the knife to clutch at his heels. At the same time, Amajiki appeared, stabbing his arm with one of his food quirks. There you saw the teenage boy surrounded by police officers, guns ready. He just glared at them in defeat.

The officers helped you up, someone pulled down the bandages on Aizawa's face, and he quickly removed the effects of the quirk. You were taken in an ambulance and Aizawa was taken up to the ground floor. 

“Wait! I can still help!” You tried to squirm out of their grasp, but Aizawa shook his head ‘no.’ Tears sprung in your eyes, did you do bad? You did your best. Still, you were forced into an ambulance.

___________________________________________

You were in and out of consciousness the first day, one part of the injury, but mostly out of laziness. Lack of sleep finally caught up to you, forcing you to pay your debts. Still, it wasn’t like you were out of it, you could hear voices, smell the clean hospital air, feel the thin sheets below you, and taste your dry mouth. Different types of voices visited you, your friends, you recognized dimly. But there was one who stayed as long as they could, and whenever they spoke, you turned your head to them, smiling and appreciating the smooth bass. A large and warm hand felt your forehead, then checked your cheek. But their touch lingered on your cheek, gently cupping the part of your face.

“Hmm, s’warm.” You mumbled, not really awake as you squished your face further in the hand.

“So weird.” But they never pulled away.

___________________________________________

The next day, you were fully awake, still in a little bit of pain. Thanks to quirks and advanced medical technology, your wound was mostly closed. It was still tender to the touch, and still able to open, but as long as you were careful, you’d be fine.

Now you were hungrily inhaling the food the nurse had dropped off, Aizawa watching you in muted disgust.

“Wha’?” Your mouth was still full, flakes of rice and meat juice surrounded your mouth.

“You eat like you’re an animal and not a fully grown woman.” He shook his head, eyeing you like you were gonna eat him next.

“I’m hungry dick!” Still, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eating more delicately. Aizawa rolled his eyes but stopped to watch his hands.

“I have a favor to ask of you.” He didn’t look at you. 

You wanted to tease him, but there was something about his demeanor that made you hesitate. “Yeah, what do you need.” You set down your food, gently sitting up to stare at him.

“The little girl, Eri, her quirk is unstable and dangerous.” Aizawa looked up now, reaching behind him to grab a small packet of papers. He handed them to you, continuing to talk. “So is her emotional state, there’s no telling when she’ll get upset and activate her quirk.”

Multitasking, you opened the folder while listening to him Rewind. She can rewind the state of a person, down to nothing. You looked up with worried eyes.

“She’ll need someone who can stop it, and watch over her.” His words hung heavy in the air, and he was tense now, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Of course, what will you do with her?” He still hadn’t relaxed, hands clenching.

“I was thinking that she could live with us. We could watch over her.” Your eyes widened, mouth parting slightly.

“I-why me? I’m not exactly mother material.” You laughed nervously, looking at him confused. Why does he have to rope you into everything he does? Would you even be good enough to watch over the girl?

“She doesn’t need a mother, she needs someone to help her. And I..we live together, so it makes the most sense.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Yet he was still tense, but why?

You looked down at your own hands, looking over her patient file. She was a traumatized little girl who needed help.

“What i…-what if I mess something up, what if I’m not good enough?” You voiced your concern, voice wavering already. When did you get so emotional?

“You won’t be doing it alone, I’ll be there.” Aizawa's voice was soft, comforting you. You looked up at him, staring into his soft eyes.

“But why me?”

“Because it’s always you.”

___________________________________________

You, as well as the other students, were released from the hospital not too long after the raid. The drive home was silent, both of you sleepy for different reasons. You were getting used to not sleeping all day, and Aizawa was exhausted from watching over Eri all night. Even if Aizawa never put on the radio, even if you hit every red light, even if the late-night roads were quiet, neither of you spoke about what he said in the hospital. Not even when you were in the hospital. 

Tiredly you both made it back home, stumbling in the dark room. 

“Aizawa wait.” You held out a hand, getting his attention while he poured his cup of coffee. You turned to him, “Where is she gonna sleep? There’s only two rooms.” 

Aizawa gave you a blank face, overpouring his cup, hot coffee spilling out from his hand and to the floor.

“Aizawa.” You repeated, his face still blank.

___________________________________________

“I could sleep in the living room.” Aizawa offered, both of you had your hair up/out of your way as you looked around the shared living space.

“Well that’s not fair to you, I’ll just sleep in the living room. You can keep the big room, which I still haven’t gotten over, by the way, and she gets the smaller room. You’ll be right there for her and I can just hang out.” Your hands on your hips while you stared out into the living room, staring down at the beige couch.

“I shouldn’t let you take the living room.” He shook his head, shooting down the idea immediately.

“Why not?” 

“One, because you’re a slob.” Aizawa looked over to you, “Two you have far too much stuff, and three you’re a woman.”

“Okay one, kiss my ass.” You faced him as well, crossing your arms. “And what does me being a girl have to do with anything?” You gave him a dirty look.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, I mean, if anyone needs their own space it should be you.” He waved you off, turning around to head into the kitchen.

“Well, Eri above anyone needs her own room, sooo…” You shook your head at him, giving him a look while he rustled through the cabinets. You thought for a moment, and a terrible idea came up in your head. Aizawa looked over at you, jelly pouch hanging out of your mouth.

“What terrible idea do you have.” He looked at you warily, still hanging into the snack through his teeth.

You shook your head, making a disgusted face.

“What?” He prodded.

“You’re not gonna like it, I don’t even like it, but we could share your room. We could buy another bed and separate the room into two.” You slowly lifted your hands in a questioning manner, your voice high.

Aizawa stared at you, one of his eyes raising in an annoyed look. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Well, what other idea do you have?”

He looked around, thinking for a moment before he groaned very loudly. “You just want to have the bathroom in the room, don’t you?”

“I’m merely making the conscious decision for the both of us considering your situation.” You held your hands up in a non-accusing way, trying to fake some sort of innocence. 

“Fine.” He grunted, turning around to wash the dishes in the sink. You tried to ignore the implications of what sharing a room meant, far more intimate than sharing a home. Walking past, you willfully ignored his blushing ears.

___________________________________________

Aizawa’s time was spent between watching over Eri and working as a teacher. So you didn't see him often for a while, whereas you were suck with redecorating and adjusting your home. You started off slow, just buying kid shit for her, like books, stuffed animals, and cubbies. But when it came time to put together said cubbies and bookshelves you let them build up, and you very pointedly ignored moving the beds. Aizawa was too busy for you to ask, and you sure as hell couldn't, or was it wouldn't, who knows, do it all by yourself. So you called the one man who you knew would help you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No lift with your legs.” 

“I am lifting with my legs! Hurry up jackass, I’m gonna drop the bed on my foot!” You groaned with the effort, damning yourself for wanting such a heavy frame.

Snipe sighed, rolling his eyes at you while he backed up. He had one hand holding the bottom of the sideways bed, the other supporting the top. Ever so gently he led you out of your old room and into Aizawa’s room.

“Okay ready? I’m gonna set it down, and you have to do it with me.” He looked back at you, his sharp eyes piercing. 

“Yup.” Your voice was strained, trying not to drop the bed. Following his lead, you turned the bed slowly and dropped it. You sighed, leaning over on your knees while you caught your breath. “Fuck.” Looking up, the bed was in the middle of the room, and you needed to shove it to the other side of the room, opposite to Aizawa’s

“I got it.” Snipe waved you away, immediately going to drag the bed in place.

“Thanks.”

You knew Snipe would answer your call, often times you hung out outside of work, and on the rare times he hosted an outing, you went with him. He stood back up, the muscle shirt he was wearing doing wonders for his body, showing off his toned arms and flashing you his exposed sides. And for a man whose quirk was a gun, he sure as hell did have a slutty waist.

“Alright break time.” You walked out of the room, Snipe following you with laughter.

“We’ve barely started.” 

“And now it’s break time.” You filled up two cups of water, handing one to him. Your hands brushed briefly, his course fingertips quickly ghosting over yours. There was a beat of silence, he made direct eye contact while he took a sip from his cup.

It’s not like you haven't thought about it, even before Snipe showed his face you knew he’d be hot under there. It was sometime after the final exams in the first term, he had been retelling the embarrassing story of his run-in with Hagakure. You had laughed at him loudly in the warm night air, tears springing to your eyes. You could feel his eyes on you, even if you couldn’t see them.

“Why do you wear your mask all the time?” You asked out loud after calming down. He stared ahead, and instead of responding he just tugged it off.

He looked at you with brilliant grey eyes, little targets in them. He had dark and thick eyebrows, long pretty eyelashes, and his full lips pulled in a smirk. Across his face was a gnarly scar, it looked like he had been slashed at an angle across, leaving behind a slightly raised thick wound.

“You’re face is a little lighter than your body.” You said stupidly, brain short-circuiting.

He just laughed and looked back out into the courtyard. 

“I know.”

You cleared your throat, willing away all of the not-very-safe-for-work thoughts that filled your head.

“I have to wonder, why are you and Aizawa sharing a room?” Snipe sat on the table, leaning back to watch you. His thick thighs were highlighted when he sat down, shorts leaving nothing to the imagination, and you swore he widened them when he caught you looking. Damn these slutty men.

“It’s nothing like that,” You waved him away. “Have you heard about the little girl that's going to be living here?” He nodded.

“Her name is Eri, and her quirk is unstable, so Aizawa has guardianship over her so she doesn’t accidentally kill someone. Which means that she’s gonna live with him, which means she’s gonna live with us.” You sighed.

“But why does that equate to you and Aizawa sharing a room?” He waved an arm, looking at you curiously.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re jealous, Snipe.” You smirked, but it dropped. “Eri immediately gets a room, that’s a given, but I wanted Aizawa close by, but he thought it’d be inappropriate for me to sleep out here. So now we’re bunking together.” 

Snipe hummed, closing his eyes and looking away. But out of the corner of his eyes he peeked at you. “You could always spend the night at my place if you need, Sejikiro doesn’t mind guests over, since he’s usually out.” 

Before you could respond, a presence made themselves known.

“That’s completely inappropriate.” Aizawa snapped, holding a bag of groceries. 

“Hey, Aizawa.” Snipe turned in his direction, waving hello.

“Why are you here?” He greeted back.

“He helped me move my bed, and he’s helping me put together the bookcases and Eri’s bed.” You peeked over, looking at him. Aizawa was just angrily looking at Snipe, who was staring back.

“You couldn’t have asked me?” He was pissed at you now?

“You’ve been busy.” You shrugged, stepping out to try and cool the angry man.

“I would’ve helped, you just needed to ask.” Aizawa growled out. “Now I’m here, so you,” He looked over to Snipe, who was just lazily watching the whole conversation, “Can get out now.” Aizawa sidestepped the door, motioning for him to leave.

“I’m already here now, plus if we all three work together, I’m sure it’ll go by quickly.” He tried to soothe the stern teacher.

“I’m sure you’re very busy, get out.” Neither Aizawa nor Snipe moved, silently challenging one another.

Snipe got up without a word, and on his way out he turned to you. “Call me whenever you need help, you have my number.” He waved goodbye, Aizawa slamming the door in his face.

“What the hell was that?” You asked in disbelief, watching the man you lived with as he strutted across the room. He threw the bags on the groaned, angrily opening the edge door to shove the food in there. “Hello?” You got closer, standing right behind him.

“I didn’t know you were calling other men to come by our house alone. You can’t do this when Eri comes in.” He was basically throwing in the food now, the poor grapes and carrots chucked to the back.

“Like Snipe isn’t our friend, what was going to happen? He helped me move the bed.” You were leaning over him now, anger now filling you. It’s been a while since you fought, the song and dance you both created had shifted over time.

“He’s your friend, not mine.” Aizawa stood up. “Plus, anything he did I could’ve done easily, there was no reason to call him. I live here too.” Aizawa got in your face, glowering.

“You’ve been busy. I’m not going to bother you-” 

“It wouldn’t be a bother! All I’ve been doing is making sure Eri’s healing process goes as scheduled, nothing I couldn’t have left to help you.” 

Both of you just stood there, breathing angrily in each other's spaces, chest to chest.

“Why do you care so much? Aren’t you happier that I’m taking the work off your hands?” You asked, anger ebbing away.

Aizawa said nothing in response, looking away slightly ashamed. 

“Because I don’t like other people in my house.” Bull.

“What about Nemuri or Hizashi? You have no problem with them coming over? Or Anan and Sejikiro?” You asked, genuinely confused.

His shoulders slumped, eyebrows slightly going up. “It’s different.” 

“How? In what way?” 

Aizawa’s tired eyes looked at you, and you realized what Fukukado was talking about.

“I recognize that look in your eyes when you look at him..”

“It just is, if you need my help, you can just call me. I’ll be there.”

___________________________________________

The first thing you noticed was how small she was, and how stringy and thin her hair was.

You were sitting in the hallway of the front door, wearing a Hello Kitty jacket and baggy sweatpants. Eri was clutching onto Aizawa’s hand painfully, but he made no move to pull away.

“Hey, little one.” You made no movement, both you and Aizawa letting her decide what to do. He was just staring at her, gauging her reactions.

She said your name, asking whether or not you were you.

“Yes I am, did Mr. Aizawa tell you I was a hero?” You asked softly, smiling at her. She nodded, one hand on her face.

“And I’m going to be living with you too?”

“Yes ma’am.” You nodded dutifully.

“Why, uhm..” Her voice got quiet, and she mumbled into her hand. Aizawa crouched down, getting on her level. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded shyly. She turned back to you, big eyes filling with tears. “Why didn’t you see me in the hospital?” She asked, looking down while her voice wavered. In turn, your eyes filled with tears, guilt ripping you open. You swallowed away your tears and leaned forward. 

“I’ve been busy getting your room all ready for you. Remember when Mr. Aizawa asked what your favorite animals and colors were?” You asked.

She turned back, eyes widening as she nodded.

“Well, want to go see?” She nodded enthusiastically again. You slowly got up, holding a hand out for her to grab. She did gratefully, but she never let go of Aizawa’s forcing you to walk side by side as you walked to her room. 

You opened the door, and she gasped, running in and looking excitedly at everything. You and Aizawa watched in adoration as she squealed, never moving from the doorway. 

You looked over at him and saw he was already staring at you.

“What?” You asked, laughing while a bashful blush spread across your face.

“You’ll do great, I don’t understand why you were so worried.” He shook his head, a small smile on his own face, ears burning hot. 

You exhaled out of your nose, smiling as you turned back to Eri, who was watching you two. She just slowly crawled up to you two, slowly hugging both of your legs. Her grip became tight, and you and Aizawa shot each other’s worried looks. 

“What’s wrong honey?”

“Eri is something wrong?”

She looked up to you two, face red and eyes watery. “You guys are like mommy and daddies.” She sniffed, “I promise I won’t hurt you.” 

You frowned deeply, eyes filling up again with tears. Aizawa started to blink rapidly, inhaling deeply as he looked up.

“Oh Eri, you could never hurt us. I promise to protect you.” You hugged her tiny frame, soothing her shaking. Aizawa joined you, hugging her just as tight.

“We’ll always be here for you, alright?”

That was a promise neither of you would break, no matter what happened.

___________________________________________

they make me mentally unwell,,AND BEFORE YOU ASK YESS I'LL WRITE A PT 3 its just this was already 12k words, and i knew that it would jest get more unreasonable the more I wrote,,,soooo,,,they make me so ill I just,,,

Also I know eri doesn't come home till later, but lick my bawls,,,I'm forcing parenthood on them

[gentil-minou]

Lanuary 2024 - Day 12, Sizhui's Birthday

The gentians in his mother's garden grow late into the season, as if her spirit still tends to them. A-Yuan's laughter flutters on wings toward where Lan Wangji sits on the wooden deck and watches.

"He's doing well, Wangji," Xichen says.

Lan Wangji nods, the corners of his eyes softening despite himself.

He is. A-Yuan has come a long way in the long months that have passed since…since…

His fingers clench tight and he hides them in his sleeves.

"Soon he'll be of age to join the little ones' class. He'll be a bit behind in core formation, but with diligent study and practice I am certain he will catch up in no time."

Xichen smiles, as if he has no memory of why A-Yuan is so behind his peers. Why he will be starting late.

Lan Wangji's back itches. The bandages stick uncomfortably to his skin. He'd split the stitches open again the other night. He hadn't even done anything this time. His scars just tear open and blood spills from them afresh, uninterested in healing and moving on.

Lan Wangji cannot blame them.

Xichen continues speaking, unaware as always. Lan Wangji knows his brother has other responsibilities and his concerns about the Nie sect leader's growing sickness have recently taken precedence. But sometimes he wonders what sort of world Brother resides in. It cannot be the same world Lan Wangji inhabits.

"He will need a courtesy name soon," he says as his gaze drifts to the ribbon A-Yuan is still getting used to.

He'd marveled over the cloud pattern when Lan Wangji first presented it to him, delighted in being able to match his gege.

Again, his thoughts stray to another caregiver with a different colored ribbon. He wonders, not for the first time, what A-Yuan would have said if Wei Ying gifted him a red ribbon.

A-Yuan has not mentioned his Xian-gege once since he'd arrived. The masters say his memory has been altered forever. How mournful a life never knowing Wei Ying would be. Or would it be a mercy? Lan Wangji still does not know.

His brother gently tugs him away from his thoughts. "Have you thought of a courtesy name yet? If he is to be your heir then—"

"He is already my heir."

Rule number 24. Do not interrupt. Let them add another scar to his back, if they so choose.

Xichen sighs. "Yes. As a Lan heir, normally his name would be chosen by the elders, but I suspect you would disagree."

"Mn." He will, when the time comes.

The boy already has a name, though Lan Wangji will not share it with Xichen or Uncle or anyone.

The only one who's heard it are ghosts lingering at night by his bedside, when Lan Wangji is weak and whispering that name alongside another.

No one else will know the name until it's time. And they will have no say in it. Bitterness swells rotten and tired on his tongue, poison in his teeth. After all, why should they?

The person who should have given A-Yuan his name is no longer here. Why would anyone else ever deserve that privilege?

Eventually, Xichen stops his patient waiting, shaking his head and pretending Lan Wangji can't see. They spend a few more moments watch A-Yuan chase after a bunny, giggling as he trips over his ribbon. The garden is awash in color as red and golden leaves fall to join their brethren in the small pond. Curious carp swim to the surface for a nibble, dashing away once satisfied.

"What about a birthday?" Xichen asks. "You have not yet given one. Will you choose the day you brought him back?"

The day Lan Wangji found A-Yuan and brought him back? The day he learned of Wei Ying's death? The day he spent hours and hours scouring a barren wasteland for a ghost, for a body? The day he found only bones and misery, and one small sickly boy breath so sallow he'd been afraid to take a step lest he hurt him?

No. Nothing on that dark, horrible day. If he could, Lan Wangji would wipe that date off the calendar forever.

But his brother is right. A-Yuan deserves a day to celebrate.

"Mn. I will think of one," he tells Xichen, then says nothing as he waits for his brother to leave. Sometimes Xichen refuses to budge. Other times, he leaves Lan Wangji in peace, and Lan Wangji can let himself feel the fury that spikes in his veins at the sight of him.

This time, Xichen leaves quickly, blessedly. But simmering fury does not flow through his veins. How can it, when A-Yuan's laughter is music that lifts his spirits and fills this quiet space with life it hasn't had in decades.

A breeze scatters leaves into a whirlwind, spinning around A-Yuan as he yelps and holds his prized ribbon to his head. A red leaf gets caught in his hair, nestling unnoticed near his small ponytail.

This time of year…soon it will be Wei Ying's birthday. It would be fitting for A-Yuan to share that date with his Xian-gege.

It could also become a curse.

Lan Wangji swallows down the rising shame at his cowardice. How can he claim that day for A-Yuan when he cannot even speak Wei Ying's name to him? How can he pretend he has any right to that day, to anything belonging to Wei Ying.

No. That day will stay Wei Ying's. It will remain as Lan Wangji's day to repent.

But then, what else? Lan Wangji had so little time with A-Yuan and the Wens, he wouldn't know where to start. Should he seek out a fortune teller for an auspicious date. Another person assigning them their fate?

The idea sours low in his stomach and he casts it away. Whatever else, he wants A-Yuan to live a life freer than his predecessors. He wants him to have more than they ever had.

But he still needs a birthday.

A memory whispers along a winter's wind, carrying a chill from long ago.

"Zhanzhan, come, come. Let's eat cake."

In his memories, his mother's voice sounds like wind chimes and glass. Beautiful, yet breakable. So fragile, and so precious, something to handle with care and polish as needed.

"Mama. We have not yet eaten dinner," he'd said, already following rules that sought to bind.

"Mhm, but that's okay, little one. We can keep it a secret. Come, come. I want to celebrate your birthday early this year."

"But why? Won't I see you next month to celebrate?"

In his memories, his mother's smile is sweet and sad, but stubbornly sticks to her face.

He cannot remember what the cake tasted like, time becoming a chasm he cannot cross. But he remembers his mother's joy as she ate, how she dabbed frosting on his nose, how she laughed at the face he made, how she kissed it off with tenderness.

He remembers how a month later, long after her body had turned to ash, he refused to eat the cake set out for his birthday for years to come.

Eventually, he grew to love the taste anew, finding his mother in every sweet. Sugary syrups and fluffy dough, the same as her laughing cheeks. Honey eyes and candied laughter. Powdery warmth that cradled his back when she'd press him to her heart.

Now, he's grateful they were able to share one last cake between them, the memory better than any treat.

"Gege, look at this pretty flower!" A-Yuan's voice wraps warm around his thoughts, a hug that gently lifts him from his memory.

Lan Wangji blinks down at the purple-blue gentian sitting in his lap as A-Yuan's strokes gentle fingers over soft petals.

"There's so many. Can we keep them? I want to put them in my bed."

Lan Wangji's hand drifts to the stem, hesitant to touch the petals lest he break them.

"No, little one. We cannot."

A-Yuan pouts and whines, "But whyyyy? I want to make them my friends…" His bottom lip sticks out and trembles dangerously. He doesn't often throw tantrums, too well-behaved to try. But Lan Wangji has held him through silent tears after nightmares. It is not any better.

He swallows, wishing again for Wei Ying's guidance. The boy would never shed a tear if he were here. His eyes drift towards the flower bed where the buds drift in the wind.

"The flowers," he start haltingly, "need to rest in their bed. The way A-Yuan must rest in his."

A-Yuan tilts his head, "Really?"

Lan Wangji nods, anxiously on the lookout for any tears gathering in the corner's of big brown eyes.

A-Yuan's faces scrunches up as he thinks. "They have to stay in the soil… so they can grow big and strong? And make lots of friends?"

Lan Wangji nods in a hurry, not sure what else to say. Where did A-Yuan learn this?

But the rain does not pass, and churns into a storm.

"Then—then," A-Yuan quietly sniffles as he stares at the flower in his hand. "Then, then then when I— when I picked—picked the flower, did I—did I take it away from, from, from…its family?"

His tears slip like morning dew, with not a sound like there's no one there to notice. Lan Wangji helplessly cradles A-Yuan's face and tries to wipe them away before the can fall.

"I, I, I," A-Yuan whispers, "I did a bad."

"No, no little one." Lan Wangji repeats desperately. "You did not." He casts his glance around as he tries to think of something to salvage this.

There. An empty tea cup. He rises swiftly and fills with with water from the pond. Then, he holds A-Yuan's hand and guides him back to the flower bed.

He thinks of what Wei Ying would say. The story he'd tell.

"Your flower went on a little trip," he says. He digs a small hole in the ground and with gentle, slow movements shows A-Yuan how to plant the stem back in the ground.

"It went on a trip to see its friend, and now it's back home." He gestures for A-Yuan to pour water over the soil. "And now, it's been fed and it will be with its family."

A-Yuan sniffles and stares at the patch of disturbed ground. "It's having dinner with its family now?"

"Mn."

"Is it loud? Are they laughing? Are they eating soup?"

"…Mn." Water is technically soup.

"…I don't like soup…"

"…Plants enjoy soup. Water soup."

A-Yuan accepts his answer with a nod before smashing his face in Lan Wangji's robes. Lan Wangji gently brushes back his hair and straightens his ribbon, letting A-Yuan have a moment as long as he needs.

Eventually, A-Yuan lifts his head and pulls back, wearing a sheepish look. Lan Wangji crouches down to eye level and waits.

"Sorry gege, A-Yuan will get you another present…sorry…."

Lan Wangji shakes his head as he wipes away the remaining tear tracks. "No need."

"Gege doesn't like presents?"

"No, I like presents," he says, thinking of rabbits and fruit and pink flowers. "But I do not need one."

"Not right now?"

"Mn. Not right now." He tickles A-Yuan and his giggles sing across the garden.

Sugary syrup and fluffy dough cheeks, honey eyes and candied laughter. Powdery warmth that settles in his heart as he cradles the boy to his chest.

Gentians that bloom late into the season, petal soft and vibrant against red and yellow trees. Alive well after they should be, as if cared for by spirits unseen.

Gifts that have no end, that do not fade with time. That stay soft and sweet in his memories.

"A-Yuan, would you like a birthday?"

A-Yuan hiccups around a giggle. "What's a birthday?"

Lan Wangji's lips twitch, just a tiny bit.

"A day where we will celebrate A-Yuan."

"Hmm," A-Yuan ponders as he taps his nose in an achingly familiar gesture. "Does gege have a birthday?"

Lan Wangji blinks mist from his eyes and nods.

"Then A-Yuan wants a birthday too!" His cheers echo against the walls until stopping instantly. "How does A-Yuan get a birthday?"

Lan Wangji lifts A-Yuan into his arms, holding him close. He steps along the garden path winding through his mother's flowers and over the bridge that looks out into the small pond.

For a long time, after his mother's death, nothing seemed to grow in this garden. For a long time, Lan Wangji took satisfaction in it. Nothing should grow here where death festers.

But despite his past wishes, death begets life, and one year the gentians bloomed as if they had every year, and the next year again and the next year again. Year after year, stubbornly clinging to life.

His mother, he thinks, was probably the same.

The day she died, he vowed he'd never celebrate another birthday. They'd remain quiet days for reflection. After all, he never learned his mother's birthday. The elders never saw it fit and mother had never mentioned it.

But Lan Wangji has grown tired of choices being made for him. Perhaps he should make more choices of his own.

Although he won't ever learn his mother's birthday, he can celebrate her life over the memory of her death. He can give new meaning to the day, give new meaning to all the days.

"Your birthday," he tells A-Yuan, who resettles after attempted to grab the carp from so high up. " will be several days before mine, on a very important day."

"Yay!" A-Yuan cheers. "How will we celebrate? Do we celebrate together? Will we get presents?"

"Mn. A-Yuan will have many presents." He will make sure of that.

"What about gege?"

"No need."

He doesn't need them, he thinks. The gifts he'd wish for are impossible to receive.

But there are gifts he has, right in his arms. Gift that life in memories, close to his heart, polished to a shine.

(threadfic here)

(A/N My headcanon is that Sizhui's birthday is the day Mama Lan passed, but because he can't properly mourn her, this way he can celebrate her life alongside this boy who was his gift from another loved lost one.)

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Twelve: Points for Trying

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

Gordon woke to sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the curtains. Benrey was still snuggled up to him. Somehow all the remaining awkwardness had dissipated while they’d slept. Two lonely people cuddling, what had to be weird or awkward about that? It felt nice so why shouldn’t they? And it had worked. If he’d had another nightmare, it hadn’t been vivid enough to recall, let alone wake him.

Eventually Benrey stirred as if waking too. “Good morning,” Gordon whispered even though surely proper morning had passed by now. “Ready to get up?” He certainly wasn’t but he’d live if Benrey was.

Benrey shifted but made no move to get up or free himself from Gordon’s embrace. “Hmm… morning. Five more mins?”

“Sure, five more minutes.” Even if it would undoubtedly be more than that it didn’t matter. Gordon had stuff to do today but it could wait.

A purr rumbled in Benrey’s chest in response. Not as loud as the one last night but it still meant he was happy and content. This was nice for him too.

“Do you think uh… we could do this again?” Gordon kept his voice to a whisper lest he break the comfortable peace between them. He wouldn’t have said anything at all but while up and about, not half asleep in each other’s arms, the question would be awkward and weird. “I know you don’t need to sleep every night like I do but maybe you could…”

“Cuddle you to sleep anyway?” Benrey supplied for him as he trailed off.

“Uh… yeah. If you’re okay with that. You don’t have stay the whole night just ‘til I fall asleep.” Maybe that would be enough.

“Wow, can’t even fall asleep without help, huh? A helpless little uh… human, gotta be cuddled to sleep at night.” Any bite his teasing might have had was heavily dampened by the fact that he was whispering too and still purring lightly. “But sure, I’m a cool guy so I’ll help.”

“Thanks.”

~

‘Five more minutes’ was indeed far longer than five minutes in truth but it did eventually come to an end. It would’ve been nice for a bit longer even but Gordon needed to get up and move.

Upon exiting the room and heading off to meet up with the rest of the Science Team for lunch – they had indeed slept well past morning time – it almost felt like a dream. Nothing about his interactions with Benrey once they’d gotten out of bed were much different than they’d been yesterday. Though perhaps that was hard to judge considering how their interactions had gone from antagonistic to friendly to cuddling relatively quickly. Those phone conversations had gone a long way towards cementing the tentative friendship they’d formed playing games together for an evening. But they’d full on cuddled twice now, surely that should change something, right? … It didn’t though. Which was preferable so Gordon wasn’t going to think about it anymore.

After lunch, there was not much else to do but continue the search for a place to live. Even if he wanted to move in somewhere soon as possible, it was still a good idea to get the lay of the land before bothering to make appointments to look inside anywhere. Since the whole Science Team was in the same boat in that regard, driving around to look together made sense.

Despite deciding to take the Black Mesa car instead of Bubby’s, Bubby still claimed the driver’s seat which meant by unquestioned agreement, Dr. Coomer got shotgun. Leaving Benrey, Gordon, and Tommy to get into the back again. Such seemed to be how they were going to default to riding in a car together. It wouldn’t have been so bad except Benrey pointed out, “I sat middle last time. It sucked. Your turn, like you said.”

“I guess I did say, huh?” The means of their return trip meant he hadn’t had to live up to his promise to swap for the window seat with Benrey. He could perhaps ask Tommy to switch instead but he’d already got in so, with a sigh, Gordon slid in to the middle seat.

Benrey slid in next, closing the door behind him and sandwiching Gordon between him and Tommy. It wasn’t so bad though. Yeah, he didn’t have a good view of the outside and less leg room than he preferred but brushing shoulders with both Tommy and Benrey wasn’t much of a problem. He’d recently learned that he was apparently the type of guy who liked cuddling with his friends after all so the causal contact wasn’t an issue.

“Since we’re all uh… looking for places at the same time maybe we could try to be neighbors,” Tommy said as Bubby started the car and got them rolling. “It’s uh… it’s good to live near friends. We could… we could go on walks together with Sunkist and um… just hang out and stuff whenever we want.”

Gordon hadn’t given it much thought before but… “Great idea.” The fact that rooming with Benrey wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as he’d have once thought – would even be fairly nice instead – didn’t mean having the others nearby to help keep him sane wouldn’t be greatly appreciated. Both for the added easily accessed company but also because Benrey was still Benrey. Being friends with and sometimes cuddling him didn’t mean he wasn’t also still an annoying brat.

“With how small this damn town is, we’d likely end up living near each other anyway,” Bubby said. “So sure, I guess we can go out of our way to do it on purpose.”

“Having high friendship levels with one’s neighbors sounds like a grand idea,” was apparently Dr. Coomer’s way of voicing agreement.

***

Counter to how it had felt every time Benrey had made it to Tuefort before, it wasn’t particularly big or grand place. He’d already seen much of it on his solo walks and then his walks with Bubby had taken them out even further. So several of the areas they visited to look at he’d already seen. Stepping out of the car to look around with the idea of maybe living in the area gave it a different vibe but… what made an area a good place to live?

He’d have just stood by and listened to the others discuss it but like when just looking at pictures online yesterday, Gordon asked him his opinion. Where before he’d been passively excluded from conversations if he didn’t insert himself, he was now being dragged in. It wasn’t a bad thing but what was he supposed to say when he didn’t have much of an opinion on any of it?

They were here to look around through so he defaulted to observations. “There’s a crack in the sidewalk.” “That tree’s got a bird’s nest in it.” And other such notable things, some of which he pulled out his camera to take a picture of.

“Is that… a good thing or a bad thing?” Gordon started asking after the second such response. The answer to which was always the same: “I don’t know,” because Benrey truthfully didn’t know. He’d only ever lived in Black Mesa and now the hotel so living anywhere else would be new and thus exciting for a time at least.

Following the third time Gordon asked that, Bubby cut in before Benrey could reply. “Why do you keep asking for his opinion? I don’t think he cares.”

“Well… he’s gonna be living with me so I think he should have at least somewhat of a say on where we live. I mean, ideally we’re both happy with the house we chose and everyone as a group, are happy with the neighborhood too. So I gotta like ask his opinion… or try to anyway because he’s not helping much.”

“I really don’t care, man.” Everywhere seemed pretty much the same to Benrey. “‘Long as it’s got a place I can make my gamer pad, I’ll be happy.”

Gordon let out a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m not surprised. Give me points for trying though, huh?”

“You get five points for trying Gordon,” Coomer said patting him on the shoulder. “If you keep this pace up you’ll unlock his next heart event in no time.”

“What’s a heart event?”

Coomer didn’t answer as he started fast-walking back towards the car. “Come along now, Gordon. We have th- Come along now, Gordon. Daylight’s-” He was apparently too far away to finish that line.

Gordon fell in step with Benrey as they started following at a more sedate pace. “You know what a ‘heart event’ is?”

“An event with hearts, duh.” What else would it be? Though what it had to do with Benrey was a mystery.

Gordon chuckled. “Well, yeah, of course. But what are we supposed to do with the hearts?”

“Uh… eat them, maybe? I don’t know. Coomer’s kinda weird sometimes.”

“Well knowing even you think he’s kinda weird makes me feel a bit better, I guess.”

“’Heart event’ sounds like something from an um, uh… dating game,” Tommy supplied from behind them. “So maybe he thinks you guys are uh… dating or going to date.”

Gordon scoffed. “Nah, not fucking happening.”

“They make dating games?” From what Benrey understood about the concept of dating, it didn’t sound like something possible to make a game about.

“You wouldn’t like them. They’re visual novels, basically,” Tommy replied. “Some of them are uh… interesting in a very specific way with very specific kinds of art so maybe you might like those, assuming you’re into um… that kinda stuff. Which I don’t know if you are. I could give recommendations for some good ones if you want.”

“Nah, no thanks.” Benrey had tried visual novels before, they were only slightly more interesting than actual novels. But regardless, Coomer thought he and Gordon were dating? Why? … Well, to be fair, Benrey wasn’t sure what all dating entailed for the people doing it, maybe him and Gordon were doing dating like things. Gordon said they weren’t though so probably it was just Coomer being weird.

~

After that they only visited a couple more spots. There weren’t exactly many available neighborhoods to move into. Despite having established that Benrey didn’t care about the area they lived, Gordon still asked him to provide his opinion on both locations, though he didn’t press when given a noncommittal answer. Which did earn him some points as it was neat that he cared about what Benrey thought.

Once done it was time for dinner. Despite still having groceries, they went out for pizza again. Over it the four to them discussed what all they’d apparently learned during their outing. Benrey only half paid attention to most of it. The housing situation was mostly up to Gordon to figure out. … Unless he decided to get a job and his own place.

He liked having easy access to someone to play games with though. And he’d already promised to help Gordon sleep at night. So he was kind of stuck, right? … Both could be fixed by living near him though. Benrey could hang out at his place in the evenings and during the night and go home in the morning when Gordon went to work or something.

Regardless before deciding on that, he needed to figure out the whole making money thing first. He’d never got paid for his old job as security guard and all the money he had made to buy games when escaping to Tuefort’s Gamestop had come from playing poker with the paid guards. Could he do that and earn enough to pay rent or… what had Gordon called it? A mortgage? What even was that and what did it have to do with housing?

So much had changed that’d he never thought would and it had happened so quickly. Much faster than he was ready to jump right into dealing with. So… for now he was just going to keep following Gordon. He was due a PS3 from him eventually anyway.

***

Even in a small town and trying to find a place quickly because living out of a hotel sucked, it took much longer than Gordon would’ve liked before they settled on something and then a bit longer before they could finally move in. In addition to wanting space for a ‘gamer pad’ Benrey’s only other actionable point of preference was that he liked carpeted floors over tiled ones. Which, with Gordon not have much of a preference either way, did narrow down their options a little, making it a bit easier even if it wasn’t by much.

The place was small, only one story and a small basement, and a bit rundown but it was a proper house. With the bonus and raise from Black Mesa, Gordon could afford that now. Heck, he could afford to buy a house instead of rent if he wanted to but when that happened, he wanted to not feel like he was in a rush to move out, so he could have more time to look. Technically he’d been able to afford such before, though not nearly as comfortably and living at the facility had meant he hadn’t needed to.

Being bigger than his old living space made it better by default. The rest of the Science Team had all found places they were happy with that were all within comfortable walking distance too, fortune had favored them on that. Making moving in another big step towards everything being okay again.

With Benrey having nothing except for the clothes and Game Boy Gordon had given him and Gordon having not much more in the way of possessions, it didn’t take them long to finish moving in. The Game Cube and Xbox they put in the living room even though currently there was no TV present; that was the main thing missing.

“How often do you eat?” Gordon asked as he opened the ancient looking fridge in the kitchen, making sure he’d turned it on right. Seemingly he had.

“Whenever I’m hungry,” Benrey replied as he wandered into the kitchen behind Gordon. “Why? And when we gonna get a TV?” Of course that was the main thing he was thinking about.

“Soon. And I need to know how often you need to eat ‘cause we gotta go grocery shopping and I need to know how much to get. So… about how often do you get hungry?”

“Uh… don’t know, never paid attention to that kinda stuff. We gonna get a computer too?”

“I’m gonna get one for basic internet stuff first and then later we can take the time to buy the parts to build a proper one for gaming. We also still gotta get internet set up too.” There were just so many little things that needed attending to when moving into a new place. Not having to deal with all that had been a benefit to the living arrangements of Black Mesa. He had the essentials taken care of though so he could worry about internet and possibly cable later. “But uh… for now I guess I’ll just get a little more food than I normally would. Wanna go shopping with me so you can tell me what you like?”

Benrey opened his mouth to respond but Gordon interrupted, “We’ll get a TV while we’re out too,” because there was no way Benrey hadn’t been about to bring that up again; couldn’t play games without one.

“Let me guess, a cheap, used one?”

“Uh… actually no, we’ll get a new one. Not a super fancy one but a new one.” He had to follow through on that promise to get a PS3 sometime soon, an up to date TV would probably work best with it.

“Sweet, let’s go.”

~

They’d gone grocery shopping once more since their first trip. Benrey had gone with again that time but so had the rest of the Science Team. Now it was just the two of them. Gordon expected Benrey to wander off anyway like he had the first two times – not returning at all until the rest of them were on their way out during that second trip – but by some miracle he actually listened when told him to stay near. Which didn’t mean he stayed next to Gordon and the cart, just that he hovered nearby, only wandering slightly ahead or behind.

It made asking his opinions on what food Gordon should get for him a bit inconvenient but actually possible. Not that he had many opinions on food. Like where they lived, he didn’t seem to care. It was annoying and frustrating because Gordon was trying to accommodate him as was the polite thing to do for one’s roommate who had apparently lived their whole life locked in up a lab and was finally free but Benrey was making it really damn hard. But well… “What kind of stuff did you eat at Black Mesa?”

Benrey paused from his perusal of the various available cheeses, turning to look at him. “Stuff from the vending machines mostly or uh… they gave me things to eat sometimes to see if it’d do something to me. Sometimes I stole stuff from the break room fridges.”

As expected he’d likely never had access to much good food – and who knows what kind of non-food things they’d made him eat? – thus when asked stuff like if he had a preference for regular milk or oat milk because Gordon liked both, he responded with, “You can milk oats?” as a serious question. Given that, Gordon should pick out a handful of things for him to try to broaden his experience and maybe find something that he would like. And so…

“Just tell me one thing you like to eat and I’ll pick out a variety of stuff for the rest.” Even if it would likely be junk, that way if he proved to be picky, there’d still be something for him when he got hungry.

“Ivory soap.”

“Ivory soap as in like… the bars of soap under the brand Ivory?”

“Yep. You can uh… put it in the microwave and it puffs up so it’s like eating a cloud. They stopped buying it at Black Mesa a while ago ‘cause I kept eating it, started getting the dumb liquid soap for everything instead which doesn’t taste as good.”

Gordon took a breath, intending to ask if he really, truly, actually ate bar soap and liked it, but let it out in a sigh instead. Of course Benrey ate soap. He wasn’t human so why should he only eat human food? Honestly there were worse things he could’ve said, at least soap would make his breath smell nice. Not that him smelling bad was a problem, he didn’t seem to smell like much of anything other than at most the hotel soap and shampoo after a shower. So… “All right, I’ll get you a box of Ivory soap then.”

“Sweet.”

***

Upon returning from their shopping trip, it took longer to put everything away and set up their new TV than moving in had. But finally upon finishing they were set to go. Mostly anyway, there was still the computer and internet to deal with. But at last they could relax on their couch that had come with their new house and play video games again on their new TV. … Or well, all of it was all really Gordon’s and Benrey was just mooching off him. But going out and getting his own stuff was still just a thought he was toying with. And he wasn’t in the mood to dwell on it right now.

Instead he focused on the game. Both he and Gordon were getting pretty adept at playing with only one hand. Benrey could use either hand equally well which Gordon seemed to think was impressive for some reason so he always switched between rounds or sometimes mid-round just for fun.

They played late into the evening until it was time for dinner. Benrey wasn’t really hungry but it had been so long since he’d last had an Ivory soap, he popped one in the microwave and ate it anyway. The look Gordon gave him as he did so was funny but he didn’t say anything. Seems he was getting used to Benrey’s oddities and thus perhaps it was time for Benrey to step up his game a bit. Afterwards, they returned to gaming and played until bedtime.

As had become habit, despite not being the one that would die if he didn’t sleep enough, it was Benrey who had to call it once it was obvious that Gordon was starting to get tired. He was a good pet owner like that, took real good care of his fragile human. Gordon wasn’t going to be dying of sleep deprivation – the thing itself or any accidents that resulted from it – or anything else while on his watch. There wasn’t even much of an argument this time, Gordon merely sighed and stood as Benrey turned the console and TV off.

“So, uh, how do you like the house so far?” He asked as as they started down the hall together. “It nice to have a real place to live?”

“Hmm… yeah.” It was bigger than their hotel room and was a building for just the two of them. And one of the two bedrooms had been promised to converted into a gamer pad. For his old gamer pad, Benrey had had to hunt and search basically the whole facility before he’d found a room that was not only out of the way enough that no one would try too hard to get in once finding it locked and barricaded, but was also still a decent size and had working outlets to plug things into. And now he was just being given a room to rebuild in, no effort required on his part whatsoever. It was the bigger of the two rooms too since more stuff than just a bed would end up going into it. Once they got the bed frame out, it’d be even spacier.

“Good. Of course if you still want your own place, you’re free to get a job and move out once you can afford it. In between finishing setting up the lab, I could help you do that. I have no idea what kind of job you’d be good at but I’m sure we could figure something out. … Don’t say you were good at being security guard, you sucked at that.”

“Nah, I think I did pretty good. Stopped you from stealing stuff, didn’t I? We’ve uh… established you’re a life-long thief, you admitted to it and everything.”

Gordon sighed and rolled his eyes as he collected his pajamas from his closest before heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed. While waiting for him in the room, Benrey changed into pajamas too because they were comfy, especially when cuddling.

“Bubby says he’s thinking ‘bout getting a job at Aperture,” he said when Gordon finally stepped back in. “I could join him, maybe.”

“That’s probably not a good idea. I don’t know how many, if any, of the rumors about them are true but uh, they for sure take part in the whole experimenting to see how far they can push science stuff at least as much as Black Mesa does, if not more. It’s why they’re our rival. If you went to them and they found our you’re whatever the fuck you are, they’d want to study and experiment on you for sure. They’d want to even more if they knew you came from Black Mesa.”

“Oh, lame.” Benrey had liked Bubby’s point about switching sides to work for Aperture being like a middle finger to Black Mesa. Figures they’d be just as bad though, huh? “Science sucks.”

“I can’t blame you for feeling that way. Don’t worry though, you got plenty of time to figure stuff out. I ain’t planning on kicking you out any time soon. So come on, let’s uh… yeah.”

Benrey followed him to the bed and after turning off the lights, joined him on it. It was softer than the hotel bed but smaller. Not that that was an issue considering how closely they liked to press into each other.

After that first night and the agreement to do it more the next morning, they’d stopped talking about it. Talking about it made it weird apparently which they’d both said to not do. It was nice though because Gordon was warm, soft, and touching him so much continued to be a lot but a decidedly pleasant ‘a lot’. Fighting the instinct to not purr seemed almost easy now as Benrey snuggled into him.

Not needing sleep himself, Benrey often extracted himself after a while once he was sure Gordon was deep asleep – though he always stayed close so if Gordon tensed up with a bad dream, he could return and soothe him back to peace, sometimes without having to wake him. Occasionally he only extracted himself just enough to allow him reach for and hold the Game Boy up – its volume way down. He’d planned to do the latter tonight but it had been a while since he’d slept and now that he was here, it seemed rather appealing.

~

Next Chapter

[ghostkingart]

The Wrath of Sleep - Sleeptober 2024 Day 4 - Prompt "Wrath"

word count: 734

content warning: implied/referenced self harm

author's note: I tried something different in terms of perspective in this one because of its personal nature. I hope you enjoy.

I’ve been afraid to sleep. In the Dreamworld, She is always listening. I fear she might visit me if I allow myself to rest.

Days upon days without sleep have turned me into little more than a zombie. Stumbling about, fog in my mind, it feels as though my head is filled with cotton. I can’t think. But I also cannot sleep.

There’s a chill in the air, a cool breeze coming in through the open window and racing out the open door of my bedroom. Sitting at my desk, I battle fiercely my need for rest. I fear I cannot keep going like this, but… I fear Her more.

I shiver and glance out the window. The stars above twinkle eerily, the full moon shines brightly, casting long shadows across the floor. I think I see Her figure in the dark clouds. I wince, blink a few times, and She is gone.

Another shiver runs down my spine. I turn back towards my notebook. Only a few hours until dawn, for when the sun rises, I am safe.

The scribbling of my pen is a repetitive, soothing sound. I refuse to let it lull me to sleep. The scribbling grows erratic, my body moves against its own will, drawing out shapes I cannot see. When I finally drop the pen, I must catch a breath. I blink in the dim light, but I still cannot make out what I have drawn. I turn the page and start over. The scribbling is repetitive and soothing.

You have forsaken me.

I stand in the dark forest. The trees are so high and the foliage so thick they create a black dome overhead, concealing the moon and the stars. Thick mist rolls across the moss covered forest floor.

I cannot speak. The voice echoing in my head will soon gain a form. She wears a veil that conceals Her nonexistent features, a faceless apparition that dawns a long black cape, further obscuring any identifiable characteristics from view. She seems to glide forward, Her feet never touching the ground.

I want to step back but I am frozen.

You forget yourself, She says.

“I only thought…” I trail off, mortified to speak the truth. She tilts her head. Patience is not one of Her virtues. I swallow. The truth would do me no good at this time. I’d better apologize for my transgression. “I never meant to abandon you. I’m sorry.”

A deal with me is not easily broken. A chuckle echoes through my mind, though the figure before me remains motionless. Some might say such a thing is impossible.

“I know,” I say and my voice betrays me.

Then, why!?

Her disembodied voice raises in volume and my head feels like it might explode. I cover my ears but I know there is no escaping the sound.

Your duty, Vessel! You have forsaken it!

I fall to my knees before Her. Somehow, it always ends that way. “I’m sorry.”

Your apology is meaningless. Have I not given you all? Everything you wished for, in the palm of your hand? You disrespect me, Vessel. You will suffer for it.

I suffer for Her daily regardless. I couldn’t possibly raise this as an argument lest She get even more enraged. I fear Her wrath. I fear Her.

“I won’t disappoint you again,” I say, lifting my gaze towards the veil, behind which a face should be… or might be.

You won’t. Her words are no reassurance, rather a threat.

I begin to shake. I was a fool to think I could ever be free of Her. I was a fool to think I might escape her design.

She doesn’t move, but I feel it, an invisible hand caresses my cheek in an almost comforting manner.

My dearest Vessel. You know it is better off this way. You know what’s at stake, you have so much to lose. It doesn’t have to be that way. You need only do what I ask.

“Anything,” I say weakly.

Cold lips press a gentle kiss to my forehead. I love you.

“I love you too,” I push the words out, insincere. She can surely tell, but I know She does not truly care for my love.

When I wake, I am standing in front of my mirror. Crimson rivulets run down my cut up arms. Once again, I have succumbed to Her.

[alpydk]

Red on You (In a Heartbeat)

Part 2 - GalexRugan

Ao3 Link

“Now darling, don’t be annoyed at Rugan. He was merely suggesting that we get out of your hair, not that we go drinking.”

Gale tried not to be angry at what he was hearing, that another night would be spent sat up waiting for the door to be pushed aside and the protective spell to be inevitably tripped. Astarion had once again dropped by to the tower unexpectedly, not to see his long-time friend but to spend time cavorting the city most likely in search of a good brothel with Rugan. Gale knew he deserved better than this, and he glowered as the two of them laughed and traded their stories of crime and deceit.

Rugan lifted his glass, tilting it in Astarion’s direction. “You ever meet that sweet lass who worked in the Elfsong? Halfling bird, she could do that thing where she bent her leg up around her-”

“Gabby, Gabriella… Oh, what was it? I know who you mean. With the cherries.”

“Yes! That’s the chickadee. Gloria?”

Astarion concentrated, his pale brow furrowed. “No, it wasn’t Gloria…” Two hundred years of skulking Baldur’s Gate. He couldn’t be expected to remember the name of every barmaid.

“Isabella.” Gale interjected, wanting the topic to move on.

Rugan looked up with a grin on his weathered face. “Isabella. Gods, she was a pretty sight. Surprised you knew her name, though.”

“Oh, Gale here has always been quite the charmer. Isn’t that right, love?”

“Learning a person’s name is the least one can do,” Gale answered, scowling at them both as they smirked, their minds clearly trawling the gutters they would soon find themselves in.

Taking a sip from his drink, Astarion reminisced over the young barmaid. “I do wonder whatever happened to her. Not seen her in…well, an age.”

“Shacked up with someone, probably. You know how it goes, spread their legs, a couple of kids, no more cherries,” Rugan replied with a devilish look in his eyes.

“She died and became a mindflayer, like so many other tragic victims of the city, lest you forget.” With his response, Gale let the silence settle over them, watching as the uncouth banter of the evening became a quiet moment of guilt shared between them all.

Lifting his glass, Rugan spoke. “Well, to Isabella then and whatever bar she may be tending.”

Astarion mumbled in agreement, bringing his glass to his lips. He glanced over the rim, noting the uncomfortable silence that lay in the air, the tension between the two lovers growing with each second. Taking the break in the conversation as an opportunity to escape, he turned to Rugan. “Maybe it’s time we…”

“Yeah, we probably should.”

Gale sighed as they both placed their glasses down to leave him, the awkward shuffle as they acknowledged his gaze upon them, making everything more difficult to handle. Tonight would be the last night he would allow this to happen. He would leave the tower himself, clear his mind and come morning would face the harsh reality that his relationship was over. He took Rugan’s hand as it swept by him, a moment of unspoken contact as if to say, “Don’t do this.”

Rugan leant down, placing a gentle kiss on Gale’s brow. “Love you, poppet. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The hand was pulled away and Gale once again found himself alone in the dim light of his tower, his heart breaking and his anger rising.

---

The smell had only been the start of what the young priestess had discovered as the gnome had removed his clothes, his skin blistering and, in some places, literally rotten to the bone. To say he was alive would have been a matter of opinion and he spoke in a matter of grunts and groans, constantly reaching for her wrists as she examined his wounds. Her healing spells were met with no change, almost angering the flesh they met and causing him further pain, and she worried that maybe a powerful curse had befallen the poor victim.

She placed a gentle hand on Tibs’ shoulder, moving quickly away as his head twisted sharply towards it. “I’ll get the high priest; you just wait here.”

Scurrying through the temple, her white robes flowing behind her, she could feel her anxiety rising. There was something about this situation that set her on edge. She knew she was relatively new to her calling, but she’d had experience with the sick and dying before in her short twenty-year life, and so this one person shouldn't have shaken her as it seemed to have. Multiple rooms were checked in search of the high priest before she eventually came across him knelt deep in prayer under the moonlight within the temple’s courtyard.

“Andora, my dear. Sneaking up on an old man?”

He glanced over at her slight figure, admiring the way the robes had been pinched to her waist. Classically pretty were the words he would have chosen if he had to describe her to fellow priests. Blonde, fair skinned, large doe-like eyes that shone with innocence. Exactly his type.

His voice was calming and with it brought a relaxation to the young priestess’ shoulders. She took a moment to let her heart rate slow, not wanting to be seen as inept before her superior. Word around the church was that the Half-Elven leader had been in his position for many years, offering counsel to those in need, speaking for Ilmater himself, supporting the newer priestesses in their times of need, and that was exactly what she needed.

“Father. I’m so sorry to disturb your prayer, but there’s a matter I require your assistance with. A man has come in from the streets. He does not speak, but it is clear he is incredibly sick.”

The high priest stood, patting down his cream robes, and approached her, linking a withered arm around hers. “Calm, take a moment of silence to find your inner peace.”

Andora nodded; a deep breath pulled into her lungs at his command. She closed her eyes briefly, failing to notice the way his eyes drifted to the rise and fall of her breasts.

“Now, a sick follower, you say?”

“I’m unsure if he is a follower, father. But yes, sick. Incredibly sick. I have tried the basic healing spells and prayers at my command, but they have done little to lift his affliction.”

“Hm.” Stroking her arm in thought, his mind drifted between the matter at hand and the warmth of her skin that lay beneath her robes. “And what of potions and elixirs?”

“Nothing aside from what appeared to be a fire beneath his skin.”

“That is quite the conundrum, then. Take me to him, my dear.”

The stroking on her arm continued as they meandered through the corridors of the temple, her anxiety again rising, but this time not at what they would encounter but at the way the priest observed her and questioned her.

“Twenty? A fine age. Quite fine.” The words lingered on his tongue a little too long to be merely a passing comment. “I remember when I was but twenty. So young and naïve in the world. Do know that you can turn to me, Andora. For anything you might need.”

“Yes, father.” She couldn’t help but understand what the other priestesses had said now, when they spoke of his support.

He stopped his movements, holding her arm with a grip she had not been prepared for. “Anything.”

His eyes on her were piercing, as if she were a rabbit caught in the sights of a wolf. She felt her words stick in her throat; her legs frozen where they were, even though the only thought going through her mind was to run. It was the screams that broke the uncomfortable silence, desperate, terrified shrieks that burst through the walls with no relief. The grip on her arm tightened, and she felt herself being pulled towards the chaos of the main hall.

“What is the trouble-”

---

“What do you mean they’re not fucking dead!?” Shouted Friol as Darnys barricaded the sturdy door behinds them with crates and barrels she dragged behind her.

“As in undead… ghouls… zombies… fucking walking dead!” The sweat was meshing with her dark hair, causing it to stick to her forehead and she dragged her arm across it, sticky blood pulled with it and leaving a trail.

Friol shot her a scathing look. The bodies had been brought back as required and were ready to be burnt when the head of Dillie had unexpectedly exploded, throwing out viscera in all directions. Some had assumed it was the pressure of gasses as his corpse had been moved, others were more superstitious and blamed the gods for his involvement in the movement of a holy item. She’d put them all in their place, though, having them follow their orders: burn the two dead and get on with what they were supposed to do. As the hours had passed, more and more men grew sick. Rashes, blisters, nausea, and each had been confined to the basement of The Sleeping Snake tavern they’d been calling their base of operations.

Darnys panted against the wall of the back kitchen, her eyes glued to the door as the dull thudding could be heard against it from the other side. “Look, I’m just saying whatever they are, they’re not dead.”

“What about clerics? Surely, we have someone around here who can handle this type of shit.”

“Mads? Mads was the one with the eye hanging from his skull. Remember, part of his skull missing?”

“Fuck.” It was all Friol could respond with as she looked around the room for any weapons or escape. She noted the window above the countertops, large enough for her to fit through but possibly a squeeze if Darnys were to follow. It was considered whether the sacrifice would be worth it. “Right. Orders are to get that window open and get us out of here.”

Darnys rubbed her hands together, more trying to compose her senses than to provide herself with any warmth. She’d expected to be in trouble for not finding the artefact. What she had not expected was Bris to be outside the door, body parts and organs missing, pounding to get in to tear her limb from limb with other, now undead, Zhentarim.

A loud slam at the door caused it to rattle, and both survivors looked over at one another before turning to the window. It was no longer about orders or rules between them; it was about staying alive.

---

Astarion and Rugan sat with their wine in the back room of the Blue Jack Tavern. Conversation had drifted between the usual of past questionable activities, the opposite and same sex endeavours, and had finally reached the lull in the evening where the more serious topics emerged.

Rugan turned a white gold earring over in his hand, its sapphire stone glinting in the candlelight between them. “Thanks for the assist on this.”

“To see the drama between you two? No thanks are necessary.” Astarion swirled the red in his glass, becoming more and more hungry as the night dragged on. “Would it not have just been easier to steal an earring?”

“He wouldn’t have approved. Besides, I’m not that kinda guy anymore.”

“Wait, so the gold you stole from the Zhentarim around town to buy this… does not count?”

A sigh was produced before Rugan could find his words. “Let’s just say they owed me. Sort of a retirement payout for all my years’ service.”

Astarion smirked at the words. “Can take the man out of Zhentarim but can’t take-”

“Don’t even consider finishing that sentence. I’ve moved on, changed man, and all that bollocks.”

“Another drink?”

“Oh, yes.”

The two drank for some time, an impromptu celebration at what had been planned, before eventually taking to the streets of the Castle Ward.

Astarion supported Rugan as they wandered south through the streets towards the docks. It had got later than expected and in a few hours the sun would rise over the city, signally the start of a new day. “I can’t believe there is someone in this world that would want to marry Gale, of all people.”

“Hey…” Rugan slurred through his words, slightly envious of an elf’s ability to tolerate his liquor. “Gale… is… he can summon tentacles and let me tell you-”

“No, you will not tell me. I do not want to know.”

“I love him. He talks too much, and he likes perfume like any lass I know would. But gods, does he make me thankful to be alive…” His words drifted off, the image of Gale in his mind, tender kisses and loving embraces shared at their home together, a home Rugan always believed he’d never find.

“Turn the fuck around!”

The shout and speed at which the two women approached them instantly had Astarion trying to reach for a dagger, Rugan’s heavy weight putting him off balance.

Darnys and Friol darted past them, not stopping to question or attack them, and both stood in confusion at what had just happened, let alone the sharp words that had been shouted at them. It was as they spotted the hoard shambling through the shadows towards them, groans and screams growing with each lumbering step they understood.

Astarion was quick to turn, the momentum dragging Rugan with him. “Guess we listen to the ladies for a change.”

---

Tibs sat in the centre of the moonlit courtyard, his jaw barely hanging on, his eyes now dark festering pools. The pendant glowed around his neck, the chain sinking into the rotten flesh of his chest. Undead shuffled around him in search of further victims, some banging on the cloister doors trying to reach further recruits of their mindless army, others leaving the temple and chasing down anyone alive which they came across. Any humanity Tibs had before was now gone. All that was left was the walking dead shell, one that the previous day had been stupid enough to not follow orders.

[temnurus]

Wangxian Top Ten Fic Recs

So. I got into MDZS/The Untamed back in February, & I've sort of fallen into a Wangxian black hole from which I am not sure I will ever emerge. Thusly, I've been reading a ton of Wangxian fanfiction lately & have acquired quite a few favorites. Naturally I had to eventually compile a rec list lest I combust with all the barely suppressed love I have for this ship.

Now you lucky people get to reap the benefits of all my hard work because not only have I ranked my top ten, I am also including a bunch of honorable mentions because I'm ridiculous & have no self restraint because I'm such a kind & generous person. Note that the honorable mentions are not ranked & are listed in no particular order.

Fair warning, all of these recs are rated Explicit because I enjoy either a sprinkling or a flood of adult content with my fics. It's far from the focus of many of them, but it's there to varying degrees in each. Also, some of these fics cover some heavy content that may be triggering for some folks, so please do mind the tags & any authors' notes for your own peace of mind.

And with no further adieu, onto the recs!

1. Scars Where They Used to Be by CwythanWind (E, 58,467)

Thoughts: I lost count of how many times I cried in this fic. It was gorgeous in every sense of the word. The characterizations were phenomenal. Wei Ying’s pain was palpable, & the pining was agonizing. Lan Zhan conveying his love through poetry made me sob like a baby twice. The prose was just that beautiful. I can’t recommend this enough. As soon as I finished it I knew it was going to become my favorite Wangxian fic, & nothing has managed to top it yet.

2. Beneath Your Skin by Wrenwolf (E, 147,201)

Thoughts: I was sold on tattoo artist Wei Ying from the word go, haha, but Lan Zhan as an antiques dealer was also surprisingly on point. I go on about characterization a lot in these recs, but I have to tell you that Lan Zhan's here is one of my absolute favorites. I felt like I'd crawled into his skin & was just living there right along with him. And don't get me started on Wei Ying in this fic. I just.. fuck, I cried so much, y'all, & it was incredibly cathartic. Nie Huaisang was my favorite side character in this, & they were an absolute BAMF! You can't go wrong with this one. It's just stunning.

3. Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 72,966)

Thoughts: This fic was full of sentiment: regrets, longing, & so, so nostalgic. The love of art was apparent & beautifully on display here, & it added a richness to the whole thing. I cried several times during this from the empathy I had for both Lan Zhan's & Wei Ying's experiences (can you sense a theme with my favorites making me overly emotional? lol). The tone got heavy in places, but it didn't feel graphic or overwhelming at any point for me. The writing was just fantastic, & I've enjoyed a few more of the author's fics since I read this one.

4. i'm gonna drown when you wake up by teenjiism (E, 51,752)

Thoughts: I related to this fic on several levels because both characters are portrayed as neurodivergent in ways that felt very authentic, & I rarely see it done as well as it was here. I have ADHD, & Wei Ying's headspace felt extremely familiar, ha. Lan Zhan & Wei Ying's friendship was so lovely here, too. I adored their easy intimacy & how they were each other's favorite person before Wei Ying even realized he was in love with Lan Zhan. Oh yes, this is another fantastic oblivious Wei Ying/One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again fic. The pining was perfect, & the overall sweetness of their relationship made this a very floaty/happy reading experience for me, personally.

5. Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl (E, 60,318)

Thoughts: Continuing with the theme of One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again, this was a hilarious & heady fake dating scenario fic. His cluelessness reached new heights in this one, & I about died when he came up with the idea that naturally he & Lan Zhan should practice things like kissing for authenticity's sake. (Oh Wei Ying, you sweet summer child... he kills me; can you tell?) I loved how matter-of-fact Lan Zhan was about the whole thing, too. I laughed a lot during this fic. I even blushed a couple of times, too! Highly enjoyable & a must-read for me.

6. you've ruined my life (by not being mine) by cicer (E, 132,713)

Thoughts: None of the parents in this fic are doing a good job, but hey, they didn't in canon either, in my not-so-humble opinion. It's not what I focused on in the fic, but the tags certainly amused me. I haven't come across many texting fics in MDZS, so this was a pleasant & welcome surprise. The whole fic wasn't done through texting, but their text exchanges were SO CUTE. Lan Zhan texted exactly how I thought he would in this, & it made me laugh every time. The pining was lovely, & when they finally got to see each other in person again in New York I was glued to my computer until I finished the fic. I adored the tone of this one. It was great & just a really fun read.

7. and so my heart beats wildly by lily_winterwood (E, 106,435)

Thoughts: This was one of the most original modern AUs I've seen & featured competitive cultivation that had a Hunger Games meets professional figure-skating competition vibe. It was wild, but it made sense when I read it, I promise. The author was very good at fleshing out their world, & I was fascinated by the concept. Wei Ying once again failed to notice Lan Zhan was in love with him, & his confusion over their interactions never failed to entertain me. I never get tired of their dynamic, y'all, & it was just perfect here. I highly recommend this one.

8. Falling to the Rhythm by Selenay (E, 128,916)

Thoughts: Ever seen So You Think You Can Dance or Strictly Come Dancing? This was basically that but Wangxian! Wei Ying was stunning as a professional dancer being handed a socially awkward, concert violinist Lan Zhan & having to teach him to dance in front of the nation for 12 weeks, & I absolutely loved Lhan Zhan in this. He was precious. The sexual tension during some of the dances was electrifying, & watching them fall in love over the course of the filming of the show was a delight to read.

9. Two Dollar Coffee by marizousbooty (E, 145,286)

Thoughts: I almost fell out of my chair laughing because how do you acquire an accidental sugar daddy?! Well, if you read this fic, you'll find out. One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again! Yeah, it's one of my favorite AO3 tags, so sue me, lol. The sex was obviously one of the highlights, which I am known to enjoy in a fic (don't judge me, Puritans), but it certainly wasn't the only thing that was well written here. I loved everything about this from beginning to end.

10. things that make it warm by yabakuboi (E, 33,327)

Thoughts: This fic hurt my feelings, not gonna lie. I cried ugly tears at the break up, but I've always had a hard time with reconciliation fics. It was very worth it, however. The way the fic covered their relationship growing & changing over time was very compelling, & a highlight of this for me was Wei Ying's relationship with the Wens, particularly A'Yuan. It was very sweet amongst an ocean of angst, haha. I read this in the span of a couple hours. Just couldn't be torn away. If you're a sucker for angst with a happy ending, then you might want to check this one out.

Honorable Mentions

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70,972)

Thoughts: This was so heartwarming I couldn't stop smiling over how adorable it was. Kid fics aren't typically a favorite of mine, but I do enjoy a really good one every now & then. This was one of the best I've read, to be honest. A'Yuan was the sweetest little angel, & he was so cute with Wei Ying spazzing out about every aspect of his care. Lan Zhan being the quiet, responsible source of reason & support was expected but of course always a welcome addition to the mix. Accidental Baby Acquisition isn't a tag I'd seen before, but it's a new favorite when it comes to Wangxian getting to be surprise parents together, haha.

undone (the spreadsheet song) series by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 282,452)

Thoughts: This is a two part series that tells the same story from each love interest’s point of view, a la Rivals by Reiya in the YoI fandom, which is one of my favorites of all time. Similarly, this story is also phenomenally written. I was sucked in immediately & read both fics over the span of like 3 days. I actually read Lan Zhan’s POV fic (the second in the series) in a single day. I was spellbound by the whole thing, couldn’t get enough. I highly recommend this. The characterizations are incredible, & the emotions are so intense I couldn’t help but feel everything right along with each of them as the story progressed.

My only word of caution is that if you have a hard time reading about Wangxian being intimate with people other than each other you might want to skim/skip those sections of the second fic like I had to. The author makes it fairly easy by giving a heads up in the author’s notes at the beginning of each chapter in which that occurs, which I very much appreciated.

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25,470)

Thoughts: This fic started with a very serendipitous first meeting between businessman Lan Zhan & Wei Ying, who he mistook for the (non-sexual) escort he'd hired for the evening. I nearly died of mortification right along with poor Lan Zhan when he figured out his mistake. Him confessing this to Wei Ying was painfully awkward & hurt my heart, but fear not! We all know I can't handle a fic without an eventual happy ending, haha. Watching their instant connection develop into something more was such a treat. I loved this fic quite a lot for it being a quicker read for me.

Multiphonics by androkastia (E, 63,705)

Thoughts: Wei Ying was such a lovable disaster in this (as he often is, bless him). Him & Lan Zhan both being in the orchestra was a fun idea, & I loved the author's choice of the harp for Lan Zhan's instrument. I thought it was very different from the usual violin or cello choice I've seen previously but still suited him perfectly. I also loved his overall characterization, down to his fashion sense being tastefully eclectic when his style is usually portrayed as very stuffy & conservative. I really enjoyed this college/university AU, & I've read quite a few of them at this point. So obviously this one stood out.

No Compasses, No Signs by brooklinegirl (E, 36,041)

Thoughts: Ah, finally! A soulmate fic. A Temnurus rec list really wouldn't be complete without at least one. This was a modern AU, which made it especially fun when their soul bond inexplicably manifested as they literally collided with each other on the sidewalk. It was painful watching them fumble for answers to why they suddenly knew things about each other they had no way of knowing only moments before, but the sweet conclusion made it more than worth the temporary angst.

A Haunting Love by Selenay (E, 64,621)

Thoughts: This was another very unique modern with magic AU, & I was nervous because Wei Ying was a ghost haunting Lan Zhan's new house in the quiet little town he moved to in order to write his next novel. Naturally Lan Zhan became ensnared by the mystery surrounding Wei Ying's departure. This had a very romantic feel to it, intensely poetic in a way that I found very alluring. There were even thriller-esque moments towards the end of the story, so it had a bit of everything, all of it equally satisfying to read.

love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360,042)

Thoughts: This was an example of a cool MDZS-specific trope I hadn't seen before, & in it Wei Ying, the infamous Yiling Patriarch, was a cultivator who had achieved immortality (aka, he's OP as fuck but in a fun way). The great sects enlisted his help to win the Sunshot Campaign, & what did he demand in return? Lan Zhan's hand in marriage, of course! It was a fantastic slow burn in which poor Lan Zhan suffered the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband. An amazing & complex plot, chock-full of angsty goodness.

a place to hide (can't find one near) by yiqie (E, 76,091)

Thoughts: I'm giving y'all a heads up first thing that this fic pulled no punches when it came to the heavier subject matter covered in the tags & author's note. Some of the descriptions were fairly graphic, so please take care of yourselves when considering this one. That said, it was a powerful portrayal of someone suffering from mental health issues & the long & often complicated journey of healing. This one also happened to contain a love story so beautiful that I was brought to tears several times by Lan Zhan's patient & loving care for his most important person, nevermind all the times I cried at the sad parts! I found the emotional cost of those very much worth the payoff of their happy ending, which is why I just had to include this one.

Just You, Just Me (Just Us, Just We) by wincechesters (E, 19,777)

Thoughts: Lan Zhan thought his brother made him an appointment at an acupuncturist & was aghast when he discovered it was for a session with a professional cuddler instead! Enter Wei Ying, gratuitous cuddle therapy, & his usual chaotic charm. Poor Lan Zhan being so overwhelmed while also becoming hopelessly besotted made me laugh, bless his fragile little heart. This was an adorable & light-hearted fic that made me want to go back & reread it almost immediately, haha.

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63,439)

Thoughts: I absolutely loved this. It was pretty CQL (The Untamed) compliant & told the post-canon story of Wei Ying wandering alone as a rogue cultivator after the events of the show. Of course he was pining after his zhiji the entire time, so when he heard gossip that the Chief Cultivator might be married by summer's end it nearly undid him. The angst was excruciating, but at the same time, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again fics somehow always manage to be fun at the same time. I've read several post-canon, wandering Wei Ying stories, & this one was particularly good.

[screenplaytestingground]

Bridgerton Season 4, Episode 3 - So Long London

It's starting to get a bit more challenging to reference the book (An Offer from a Gentleman) and still tell the story of Benedict and Sophie the way I hope the show will next season. This episode features the first of a few planned Benedict and Eloise swing conversations!

Two scene preview below, the full script is linked as a PDF.

Enjoy!

SCENE 1 - BENEDICT LOOKING THROUGH ART SUPPLIES

INT. BRIDGERTON HOUSE ATTIC/STORAGE ROOM - DAY

BENEDICT is opening and closing chests and looking through boxes, moving stacked crates and reviewing what is inside.

BENEDICT finds a chest full of his old sketches and drawing supplies. BENEDICT sits on a nearby chest, bringing a stack of sketches to his lap and reviewing the art, wistfully.

BENEDICT stands and searches through another CRATE full of blank sheets and drawing supplies. He gathers the supplies into one CRATE and picks up to take with him.

BENEDICT exits the attic

TRANSITION TO BENEDICT’S BEDROOM

BENEDICT enters with the CRATE of art supplies and places it on his DESK. He begins to unpack the art supplies, laying them out on his desk carefully.

~ 2 minutes.

END SCENE

SCENE 2 - BENEDICT AND ANTHONY TALK ABOUT ART

INT. BENEDICT’S BEDROOM, DOOR SLIGHTLY AJAR - DAY

BENEDICT sits at his desk, sketching.

ANTHONY passes by in the hallway, and looks into BENEDICT’S ROOM.

ANTHONY enters BENEDICTS BEDROOM.

ANTHONY

Back at it again? It seems I haven’t seen you pick up a sketching pencil in quite some time.

BENEDICT

I guess it has been years since I have been inspired to create anything … of note.

ANTHONY

And what is it, after all this time that has inspired you so?

BENEDICT

I am not sure if I can put a name to it. Or if I should try.

ANTHONY

I do think you should try to find out what t is. So that you might bottle it and save it for a time you are less inspired. So that you might maintain your passion longer than mere fancy allows.

BENEDICT

Why should I try to create when I am not inspired to do so? When my enthusiasm wanes, should I not put down my pencil? Lest I create something that embarrasses the senses.

ANTHONY sits down in the CHAIR near the desk.

ANTHONY

I am no artist, but I do not think putting down your pencil is how one trains the hand, or the eye. You used to have such passion, and seemed fearless in your endeavours; only to abandon it at the slightest chance you might be judged unfavourably. 

BENEDICT

No artist likes to be judged.

ANTHONY

You do not have to enjoy being judged, but it seems like an inevitable circumstance any artist will encounter. Being evaluated. Any piece hanging in the great halls of a gallery is open to interpretation and analysis by its observers. However knowledgeable those observers may be. That is where the fearless nature of artists is born, is it not?

BENEDICT

Well I suppose I am not so fearless then, am I?

ANTHONY

I just do not want that fear, that self consciousness to prevent you from taking a risk that is worth it. That could be life changing - that should have been life changing.

BENEDICT

I did not want to be judged as a fraud. I do not think that was a risk worth taking.

ANTHONY

I do not think you were scruntized as such. Everything I heard, from you, and others, was that you have a real talent, regardless of your path to find it.

BENEDICT

That path being money and influence?

ANTHONY

Why do you think any observer of your works will care that you are the second born Bridgerton? You are the only person that holds that against you. Sees your namesake as an impediment to your art career.

BENEDICT

So you think I gave up my chance too soon?

ANTHONY

I do not think you have lost the chance at anything you desire to pursue. But I do think you should not abandon something you truly want because of the opinion of others. Especially if their only opinion is based on the fact that you are a Bridgerton.

BENEDICT leans back in his chair.

ANTHONY stands, looks at BENEDICT solemnly.

ANTHONY

I do hope you understand my words are meant as counsel, not judgement.

ANTHONY exits.

FOCUS remains on BENEDICT.

END SCENE.

[ceebit]

content • meeting again in another life. 0.8k words of finding love again.

he finds you again on a rainy morning.

nine-fifteen am, and the bell on the door signals the arrival of a new customer. the barista brightens at the sight of you, water dripping from your dampened trench coat, and he can see your cheeks lift into a smile from where he’s sitting. small droplets of rain dip and dry against your scarf, soaking in the fabric before getting soothed by the heat circulating in the cafe.

your voice is different this time, fleeting in and out of ambient background noise as you converse amicably with the barista. he sips his coffee as he watches and sinks into the cushions of the booth, letting the warmth in the styrofoam cup warm his cold hands.

he catches bits of your conversation—a compliment on their newly dyed hair, a question about a stray you’ve seen a few times around the block, laughter following a gentle jab at your retelling of your mother’s insistence about returning home for the holidays. your order is completed all the while, rocking on your heels as you wait patiently, and you exchange a cheerful thanks before walking around to find a seat.

your eyes meet his and he sees the moment you double take.

as if pulled by an invisible wire, you slowly make your way over to his booth, curious smile on your lips still a bit tentative. he notices your caution and smiles behind his cup, looking down briefly to spare you any means of embarrassment. and yet,

“i’m sorry… this is going to sound weird, but have we met before?”

he wonders if he should tell you the truth. that he’s been through several lifetimes, each one blazing a different path than the last, and has managed to find you—your soul—in every one. that his heart eased somewhat entering the quaint shop he’s been frequenting for a while today, something in his gut telling him he would find his answer here. that he’s been searching for you in this lifetime for years, and that he’s finally found you again.

he looks up to find you still standing, curiosity still ablaze in your eyes. his heart skips a bit at the familiarity and shoves down the emotion lest you leave with haste. all these years, all these lifetimes, and your eyes have remained the same each time.

“i don’t think so,” he settles for saying, and can’t help the smile that grows on his lips when you frown and begin to apologize. “however… that seat isn’t taken, and i’m sure standing while eating isn’t the most comfortable thing.”

you smile at him brightly and his heart thumps.

“that was a little weird, wasn’t it?” you mumble, setting your food on the table before settling in the seat across from him. he looks at you quizzically, so you add, “coming up to a stranger and asking if you know them… i’m so embarrassed. i really am sorry.”

he longs to smooth the furrow in your brow.

“i must have one of those faces,” he muses, and raises his coffee slightly. “cheers.”

oh, he missed the sound of your laugh. your satisfied hum when you sip your drink, and the little wiggle in your seat you do when you’re pleased. he hopes he isn’t staring, but if he doesn’t get to hold you again soon, he fears his heart will pour out the contents of his mind and he’ll never see you again.

and you’re none the wiser, happily biting into a chocolate croissant, and he realizes the feeling in his chest is fondness. the corners of his eyes sting and he quickly takes another sip to blink the tears away.

he’ll take a leap of faith. irrational, his mind sighs, but he’s finally found you and he isn’t going to let you go just yet. he can’t. his heart beats faster and he opens his mouth to—

“hey, there a chance that you might be here within the next week?”

he blinks slowly and you only smile, swirling your drink around gently. your head is propped up with an arm on the table, and you look so cozy against the plush cushions that he can’t say no. couldn’t say no to you if he tried.

“i might be around. you want to see this face again so soon?”

it’s teasing, lighthearted with warmth, and your eyes narrow lightly at the jest. your smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and when you lean forward across table, he smells vanilla and is instantly reminded of late nights in a shared apartment.

“your face just seems so familiar,” you shrug, and he can’t help but smile with you. if only you knew, but that was okay. he’s searched and found you after so long, and he’d do it again and again, and again.

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

Cassian began to leave the banquet hall to head for bed when a voice called behind him.

"My Lord! You are not leaving already?"

"Lady Elizabeth? Yes, I am. I thought it best to leave all of you to enjoy the rest of the party."

"But, my Lord, there is no party without you. Everyone is here to celebrate your return to England!"

Cassian smiled - he'd forgotten that was the excuse he'd made for the banquet. "You're right, of course. I should stay a while longer."

"I'm glad - I had been hoping we might dance."

"I don't dance. Never have," apologised Cassian. "It is not in my skill set, so it is best avoided lest I embarrass myself in front of everyone."

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport!" complained Elizabeth playfully. "You won't embarrass yourself! What if we dance right here in this hallway? No-one would even see us then."

Cassian laughed, "Dancing in a hallway? Is that not a little strange?"

"I see no reason why. We can still hear the music from here, and there is plenty of room," Elizabeth took Cassian's hands as if preparing to dance and waited for his reaction.

He hesitated another moment, but he could not bring himself to disappoint the sweet smile on her face.

As they danced, a strange feeling came over Cassian. He suddenly felt years younger and brighter - it had been a long time since a beautiful woman had wanted anything to do with him, let alone be so close to him.

"I have looked forward to this banquet for such a long time, my Lord. It is the first that I am old enough to attend."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it was my birthday only two days ago. I was so pleased to be invited, for you see... I have always wanted to meet you."

"Me? Why ever so?"

"Before you left for the New World, you would often attend my parents' banquets. Well, I would usually sneak down at some point to watch all the guests in their merriment and..." Elizabeth paused to giggle and avert her eyes. "I always thought you were the most handsome guest at the party."

Cassian looked into Elizabeth's eyes and she looked into his coyly. For the first time in a long time, he could feel the spark of desire between them.

"Well, my Lady, may I just say that at this party, no other guest could possibly hold a candle to your beauty."

As the song ended, Elizabeth let go of Cassian with a clear reluctance, "I hope we might get to do that again some day soon."

"As do I, Lady Elizabeth."

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