#and in fact i only drew out four prompts but i added it on as a bonus one

[readingoals]

January TBR

I don't usually set myself monthly TBRs but I've decided to experiment with it this year. I think it's going to help me prioritise books I already own rather than new release which is great because I am trying to read down my shelves. So I'm pulling prompts out of my TBR Jar (which I've had for a couple of years now) to help direct me so that I can still choose based on my mood somewhat.

[youre-ackermine]

⋆⁺₊❅. Frost Kiss ⋆⁺₊❅.

❅ Prompt 32 "Chapstick"

❅ Characters Levi x Hange

❅ Content Modern AU / SFW / Non-binary Hange

❅ Warning Swearwords

❅ Wordcount 1767 approx.

❅ Requested by @kiyoshiackerman

He couldn't believe he had agreed to this.

Despite the thick coat and the wool scarf he was bundled up in, he was chilled to the bone. They'd been standing in the cold for half an hour now, in front of what their little town's bigwigs had pompously called a winter wonderland. Actually that was nothing more than a good old funfair festooned with twinkle lights here and there.

His eyes wandered over the ice rink that flanked the funfair without really seeing it, barely listening to Hange's ramblings.

Not only had they literally dragged him here, but they'd been annoyingly gushing about the not-so-huge decorated tree haphazardly set next to the ticket booth or the trinkets they would find to give to their friends for Christmas, ever since they'd joined the line.

"Come on, Grumpy Pants, it's gonna be fun!" Hange's loud voice snapped him out of his daydream.

They rummaged through their tote bag to finally pull out a small tube of lip balm with a proud grin and started to apply it roughly on their chapped lips.

"Oi Four-Eyes, be careful! You’re smearing your face with that colored shit."

Levi drew a pristine handkerchief out of his pocket and stepped closer.

Before Hange could protest, he cupped their chin, his fingers firm but gentle as he tilted their face towards him.

"Tch, y’ even stained your teeth, dumbass," he muttered, thoroughly swiping their mouth clean.

"Just…let me do it for you," he added once he was satisfied. "And stop squirming."

Hange repressed a giggle and handed him the chapstick.

The moment he brushed it over their lips, his heart skipped a beat. The soft tint of the balm brought out the natural curve and plump of their mouth, and his gaze lingered there a moment longer than necessary.

"There. Done." His voice came out gruffer than intended.

He cleared his throat and unwittingly shoved the tube in his coat pocket.

Hange snuck their arm around his and smirked.

"Thanks, Levi. Didn’t know you had such a delicate touch."

"Shut up, Four-Eyes," he growled, quickly looking away as the faintest blush dusted his cheeks.

He struggled to repress the sudden urge to do something impulsive. Instead, he scowled and adjusted his scarf, trying to get rid of the troubling thought.

⋆⁺₊❅.

For some reason, as much as he wanted to be anywhere else but around those loud kids and those cheesy couples, he indulged Hange's every whim tonight.

Wandering from stall to stall in the tiny Christmas market, they pointed out glittering knick-knacks or they marveled at handcrafted trinkets.

"Should I buy these for Nanaba? She always complains about her cold feet," they asked, holding up the ugliest pair of furry slippers known to man.

"Yeah sure," he mumbled, not really looking at them.

In fact, his gaze was fixed elsewhere, on the faint shimmer of the balm still clinging to their lips. It caught the light with every smile, drawing his attention in a way that made him want to scold himself.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Hange begged him to try his luck as soon as they reached the shooting gallery.

"Come on, Levi! Those giant plushies are so cool! Oh, I want one Shorty! Please, please, please, please…!"

"Fine," he finally gave in, rolling his eyes.

He unbuttoned his coat and picked up a rifle. Although Hange's enthusiastic cheers made it harder to keep his composure, he lined up the shots with precision, his sharp gaze focused on the targets.

In less than no time, he handed Hange the largest prize, the massive titan-shaped plushie they wished for and they let out a delighted laugh.

"I can’t believe it! Look at that beauty!"

Levi shrugged, holding the plushie awkwardly at arm's length.

"You wanted it. Now you’ve got it."

Hange grabbed the stuffed titan, hugging it like it was the best gift they'd ever received.

"You're the best of best friends, Shorty! I’m gonna keep it forever."

He looked away to avoid their gaze and clicked his tongue.

"Whatever, Four-Eyes."

They wandered from stall to stall, Hange leaning closer to chat or show him something. Levi caught another glimpse of their lips, the subtle sheen of the balm still annoyingly captivating.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at the overpriced articles instead.

"Are you alright?" Hange asked, noticing his absent expression.

"Mmm," Levi grunted, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

But the truth was, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep pretending not to be drawn to those pretty lips.

⋆⁺₊❅.

"Let's ride the Ferris wheel next!" Hange yelled a bit too close to his ear, clutching the stuffed toy as if it was going to run away.

Levi frowned at the spinning wheel towering over them and sighed, muttering something about how the "giant crap" would not fit "in the damn cart". But he followed them to the line anyway.

When their turn came, Hange squeezed into the seat, the plushie crammed awkwardly between them.

"Fucking hell, it's huge!" Levi grumbled, glaring at the titan.

"Don't be jealous," Hange teased, clinging to the plushie. "It'll keep us warm!"

Levi gave them a flat look but didn't argue, settling stiffly into his corner of the cart.

The wheel began to move, the festive lights of the winter wonderland spreading out below them, twinkling in the night. Hange leaned forward to admire the sight, their lips parting in a soft gasp.

"The view is beautiful," they whispered, but Levi barely heard them.

His eyes had flicked to their lips again, where the faint tint from the balm still lingered. He swallowed hard, cursing the ridiculous plushie jammed between them that made it impossible to lean closer.

"You’re awfully quiet," Hange said, turning to him with a curious look.

"Just... taking it in," Levi muttered, turning his gaze on the view before him.

Hange smiled when he cast a glance at them, and his fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and touch their hand growing unbearable. But every time he shifted, the plushie’s bulk squished him back into place.

"Stupid ragdoll," he muttered under his breath, glaring once again at the toy.

Hange laughed, oblivious to his frustration. "I think it's cute. Don't you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Cute isn't the word I'd use to describe it."

However, when the Ferris wheel finally crested the top, staring at Hange's beaming profile, he couldn't deny that the moment was perfect.

If only the giant plushie wasn't standing in the way.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Straight after the Ferris wheel, Hange decided they were starving and led him to the food stalls, where all sorts of greasy snacks were displayed.

"Smells amazing!" Hange marveled but Levi wrinkled his nose, slightly disgusted by the oily scent of fried food and the overly sweet whiffs of churros.

They ordered a hot dog with extra mustard and extra ketchup and a mountain of fries on the side. Levi opted for a small portion of roasted chestnuts, staring at Hange's full hands with obvious disapproval.

Looking for a semblance of warmth in this biting cold, they found a spot to sit near a small bonfire. Hange immediately dug in their hot dog like they hadn’t eaten in days while Levi skillfully peeled his chestnuts, keeping an eye on what he knew was a forthcoming disaster.

"Do you always eat like a slob?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as ketchup smeared across Hange’s cheek.

Hange laughed, unfazed. "It’s part of the experience, Shorty! Greasy-messy-finger-food, it's all part of the fun!"

Levi sighed and reached into his coat pocket for his handkerchief.

"You’re fucking hopeless, Four-Eyes."

He leaned over, swiping the sauce from their cheek with a quick gesture. He meant to pull back immediately, but his eyes caught on their lips again, slightly parted and now glistening with a bit of grease. His gaze lingered on them again, his hand pausing mid-air.

"Levi?" Hange called, a hint of concern in their soft voice.

He blinked, quickly regaining composure.

"You’d better be careful before you spill more of that shit, idiot."

Hange grinned, clearly unfazed by his sudden sharpness.

"You’re such a clean freak, I don’t even know how I still can put up with you," they teased, popping a fry into their mouth.

Levi cocked an eyebrow, then decided to let it slide and to focus on his chestnuts.

But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept coming back to their tantalizing lips.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Levi was putting the soiled wrappings in the trash when Hange clapped their hands with excitement as they spotted a photo booth nestled between the stalls.

"Levi, let's take pictures!"

Levi narrowed his eyes. "What for?"

"For posterity of course, silly!" Hange replied.

They grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the crowd to the booth.

"Come on, Levi! Cute photos! Just us and Sawney."

"Sawney? This pile of rags, you mean? Lucky me," Levi muttered, letting Hange lead him nonetheless.

Before stepping inside the booth, he fished the lip balm from his pocket.

"Hold still," he said in a commanding tone.

Hange blinked, confused. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You won't ruin the pictures with your cracked lips," Levi grumbled.

Hange smirked. "Aw, how cute and thoughtful!"

They leaned closer.

"You’re kind, Levi."

Levi ignored them, focusing on applying the balm. For the umpteenth time tonight, he found his eyes lingering on their lips. The light tint complemented their smile and made his heart beat faster.

"There, weirdo. Passable now I guess."

He shoved the balm back into his pocket and gestured toward the booth. "Now get in."

As soon as they sat down, Hange started making goofy faces, sticking out their tongue or crossing their eyes. Levi sighed, but the corners of his mouth slightly twitched up at their antics.

"Levi, come on, do something funny!" Hange urged, nudging him with their elbow.

Instead, he found himself just staring at them, realizing how beautiful they actually were.

"What’s that look for?" Hange asked, a bit surprised by his unusual demeanor.

Before he could overthink it, Levi leaned forward and kissed them. It was soft, just his lips brushing against theirs as if testing the waters.

Hange froze, wide-eyed and Levi finally pulled back, his expression unreadable as if nothing had happened.

"Just wanted to taste your chapstick," he said deadpan. But his ears were faintly pink.

Hange blinked a few times, then let out a flustered laugh. "Oh, is that so?"

They leaned closer, their cheeks red. "Well... wanna taste it again?"

Levi smirked, slowly closing the small distance between them.

"Guess I have no choice."

❅ A/N Not beta or proof read / English is not my usual language

❅ All graphics by me

❅ ❤︎ REBLOGS APPRECIATED ❤︎ ❅

Holiday drabbles Masterlist

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(13)

Lies Are Weak Foundations

description - In the hunt to retrieve Robert, y/n will be shown much more truth than she ever could have expected.

word count - 2.9k

warnings - incepting an idea against someones will, suicide, allusions to child abuse

a/n - fun fact, in the original plan for the story it ended on 13 chapters so I added one extra because I believe in the unluckiness of that number. Butttt then the chapters became too long so I was breaking them up anyways so the story would have actually never been 13 chapters.

Previous Chapter Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

“Do you trust me?”

“Forever.”

“Forever.”

Dark.

LAYER FOUR: LIMBO

A crushing wave layers over my throat and the chill seeps down over every inch of my skin. I gasped in search of breath, feeling my position was not helping my desire to not drown. The sun bled my eyes but I could not direct myself out until a pair of arms wrapped around me. They dragged me up and out as I spluttered everywhere. Dad collapsed onto the beach still holding me close to him. I pressed up and took in the world around me. Skyscrapers crumbing down to be forgotten. The majesty around screamed of futility. But their memories thrummed in the air. I curled my fingers through the damp sand in search of a foundation to stand up on. Tiredness gave way and the sand was not a strong enough footing. I fell down once more. Dad stretched out his hand to me. With slight hesitation, I grasped it and we used the others weight to pull ourselves up.

“You all right?” a nod was all I could offer.

“This is your world?” my words whispered out the unspoken agreement.

“It was.” His firm tone matched his serious face. I tried to show no fear but he was still my father. “This is where she’ll be.” Another wave crashed over, stinging my ankles, and I could only hope my shiver was from that. “Come on.” He gestured for me to follow him.

We began to walk and passed over to the expanse of industry. It looked uncommon from the beach we had been on moments ago. And the distinctness was felt by the clench in my chest. Where I once felt free now controlled me. The chains I felt inside me could be traced to my mother’s hands.

“You built all of this?” I asked my father who walked through with predetermined confidence whereas I dragged behind stunned into carelessness. It seems the further we walked the stronger the structures stood. Their thoughts were concrete and had not succumbed to time…yet. “This is incredible.” I breathed out through a laugh of disbelief.

“We built for years. Then we started in on the memories.” Dad responded.

My skin bristled and a thousand eyes were trained on our very movements.

Dad stopped.

I stopped.

James and Philippa played in the streets, supplanted into this created memory.

Tears burned at my lids and I wanted nothing more than to run over and clasp them in my arms. But my feet stood stock. They were not real. They were not real. They’re at home. We can go home.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“This was—”

“Our neighbourhood.” I finished his thought when the familiar image struck my heart.

“Places from our past.” He continued. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and drew my attention to a building to the left of us. The house looked out of place and it’s nostalgia did not match the ingenuity around us.

“Recognise?” He teased and squeezed my shoulder in comfort.

“The apartment.” I smiled through my words. I could feel every muscle relax and suddenly I was free of the links that had bound me for years. Behind the linen curtains, shadows danced around a thought. I was transported back and could feel the shadow of myself return and with it the innocence I had failed to keep.

“You reconstructed this all from memory?” I slurred out over the lump in my throat.

“We had lots of time.” His whisper was enough prompting I needed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We entered a sleek apartment complex. The cleanliness seeped off it like a fume.

“We’d always wanted to live in a house but there was something about buildings like this.” I audibly agreed. “In the real world, we’d have to choose.”

We entered the elevator and Cobb’s hand pushed out for the right number. The doors slammed in front.

“How are we gonna get Robe—Fischer back?” I asked whilst fidgeting with my jacket sleeves.

“We’re gonna have to come up with some kind of kick.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna improvise.” He readied his gun in his hand and I assessed his moves with fear. “listen, honey, there’s something you need to know about me.” I met his statement with confusion. I looked on to my father and struggled to think what he could have possibly kept from me when we had been each other’s all for the past years. And what was so horrifying that I didn’t know. “About inception.”

The doors opened and the warm light of our house bled into the steel of the elevator. Dad raised his gun to stalk forward, primed.

“An idea is like a virus. Resilient. Highly contagious.” We walked further into the hallway, with each step feeling like two, and the walk back even longer. “And the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define…” Dad raised his gun as we finally made it to the largest room. “Or destroy you.”

The head of the table was occupied and the limited view did not stop me recognising my own mother. The closer I came to her, the less assured I became.

“The smallest idea such as ‘Your world is not real’.” Her voice sung the air and its tones were all too familiar to my ears. If my father hadn’t blocked me I could have crumbled right into her arms. “Simple little thought that changes everything.” She turned to face us and a smile tugged at my lips when I could see her beauty once again. “So certain of your world, of what’s real. Do you think he is?” she jutted her chin to my father but directed her question to me. “Or do you think he’s as lost as I was?” My eyes bore over his frame and my face fell at the question I had already asked.

“I know what’s real, Mal.” My dad spoke as if approaching a skittish horse. He pulled out the chair waiting for him and sat down so their eyes could meet.

“No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Dom?” She perched on her arms to lean towards him. “Chased around the globe, by anonymous corporations and police forces?” She then turned her eyes towards mine. “The way projections persecute the dreamers.” When our eyes met, they were filled with sympathy and I felt that this Mal had somehow seen my whole life. Through the eyes of my own father.

She grasped his head in her hands. “Admit it.” She persisted. “You don’t believe in one reality anymore. So choose. Choose to be here. Choose me.” Her words pierced me as believing in one reality meant forgetting another and her words of disbelief to my very existence were too near in my mind. And I flinched at every word in attack.

“You know what I have to do. I have to get back to the children. I have to take Y/n home.” Dad soothed Mal’s passionate heart. “Because you left us.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You’re confused, our children are here.” Her eyes pierced the side of my head. “Our real children.” From behind I heard the giggles of the projections of James and Philippa. “You would like to see their faces again, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. But I’m gonna see them up above, Mal.”

“Up above?” She laughed out at the apparent foolishness of the term. “Listen to yourself. These are your children. Watch.” She leaned back and announced to the room. “James! Philippa!”

Their faces twitched and both my father and I flinched away and hid our eyes, fearing that our truths could be confused.

“Mal, please don’t do this.” My father pleaded, knowing her game. “Those aren’t my children.”

“You keep telling yourself that. But you don’t believe it.”

“No, I know it!”

“And what if you’re wrong, and I’m what’s real.” Her desperation seeped through her words. “You keep telling yourself what you know.” She mocked his stubbornness. “But what do you believe?” She whispered out. “What do you feel?”

“Guilt.”

I snapped my gaze to my father. His word choice confusing me.

“I feel guilt, Mal. And no matter what I do. No matter how hopeless I am, no matter how confused, that guilt is always there, reminding me of the truth.”

Mal’s face stoned. “What truth?”

My breath stuck as I waited for either one to admit what hung in the air unsaid.

“That the idea that caused you to question your reality…came from me.”

I gasped. Blood froze in my veins. My bones seemed to melt.

“You planted the idea in my mind?” Mother questioned, her tone more hushed than when she had certainty.

“What is she talking about?” I spluttered out still holding out on the idea of another explanation.

I could not force my father to meet my gaze.

“The reason I knew inception was possible was because…I did it to her first. I did it to my own wife.”

I choked on my own sob which fought to break through.

“Why?” I gasped out.

“We were lost in here. I knew we needed to escape, but she wouldn’t accept it. She had locked something away, something deep inside. A truth that she had once known, but chose to forget. And she couldn’t break free. So I decided to search for it. I went deep into the recess of her mind and found that secret place. And I broke in… and I planted an idea. A simple little idea that would change everything. That her world wasn’t real.”

“That death was the only escape.” Mal finished, her eyes still downcast.

“You’re waiting for a train.” I began reciting what I had heard all of my life. “A train that’ll take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you… but you can’t know for sure. Yet it doesn’t matter.”

“Because you’ll be together.” My father continued.

“And then you woke up.” I remembered watching over their lithe bodies resume life. I struggled to realise all that had proceeded. And all that would come to follow.

“But I never knew that that idea would grow in her mind like a cancer…that even after she woke…That even after you came back to reality… that you’d continue to believe your world wasn’t real. That death was the only escape.” I shuddered upon the memory and tried to scrub out the image of her lifeless frame on the table.

I couldn’t help but sigh in almost relief. The feeling felt wrong but I couldn’t help at relish at the answers for actions and words that had troubled me for years.

She broke into tears.

“You infected my mind.” She sobbed out.

“Mal, I was trying to save you.”

“You betrayed me.” She cried out. “But you can make amends. You can still keep your promise. We can still be together, right here, in the world we built together.”

The world rumbled in a mimic explosion but no flames could be seen. I jumped in realisation at Eames’ attempt to revive Robert. The lightning confirmed my fear.

“Dad, we need to get Robert.”

Mal whipped around to me and practically spat. “You can’t have him.”

“If I stay here, will you let him go?” Dad was still held in thought.

“DAD, NO!” I cried out at the thought of losing him too. “You can’t do that to me. Not me. Not again. I can’t do it again!”

“But you’d have Fischer.” He sincerely answered. I became confused through my screams. One look between us confirmed it. He’d seen it all. But he wasn’t mad, he seemed genuine.

“Fischer is on the porch.” Mal announced unable to hide the smile at her win.

“Go check he’s alive, Y/n.”

“No, Dad you can’t do this. Not for me.”

“Go check he’s alive. Do it.”

I hurtled outside, gun at the ready. The newly acquired wind whipped my body around and I struggled to stay straight in the face of the storm. I saw the barely conscious body of Robert. He was tied up and his mouth was gagged. I hurled his body up to lean against the balcony. I checked his body over for injuries and found nothing too concerning. His eyes met my own and the familiarity seemed to unleash his tears. I tried to soothe him but I felt ill-equipped in my own situation.

“He’s here and it’s time but you have to come now!” I shouted back.

“Take Fischer with you, all right.”

“You can’t stay here to be with her!” I screamed to permeate his stubbornness. Every part of my body was desperate to drag him back home with me and destroy whatever poison she had him under. “That’s not mum!”

“I’m not.” He stated. “Saito’s dead by now. That means he’s down here somewhere. That means I have to find him.” My heart loosened and I broke a smile. The thunder rumbled around us. “I can’t stay with her anymore because she doesn’t exist.”

“I’m the only thing you do believe in anymore.” She shot back.

“I wish.” He deeply exhaled in desperation to return to the time before. “I wish more than anything but I can’t imagine you with all your complexity, all your perfection, all your imperfection.”

I ripped down the gag from Robert.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” We both had to shout to be heard over the thunder.

“Look at you.” My dad continued. “You’re just a shade. You’re just a shade of my real wife.”

I caught Mal’s thumb stroke over a knife I had seen before. My arm pained once I saw the offending weapon.

“And you were the best I could do?” Dad continued to push. “I’m sorry, you’re just not good enough.”

“DOES THIS FEEL REAL?” She jumped up and slammed the knife down into Cobb’s thigh with murderous passion. But before she could raise it again, I grasped my gun and shot her. One bullet.

My body froze, gun still cocked. I couldn’t move from the position I’d found myself in. Thoughts ran around and infected each part of my body. Spiralling down I struggled to pull myself back up until a gentle tap hit the back of my thigh. And I turned around to find Robert manoeuvring himself into an uncomfortable position to merely comfort me in whichever way he could. My resolve crumbled when our eyes met, and I dropped the gun and launched forward to embrace him. To feel him close, if not for anything else.

Dad reached over to cradle Mal in his arms as she died. He gratefully acknowledged the gun in my hand and I smiled in agreement. It had to be me.

“Y/n I need to know if you can ever forgive me.” He choked out. “For this and for everything else. This life should have never been yours.”

“It was my choice.”

“I shouldn’t have let you.”

“You think you could have stopped me?” I teased. “Don’t forget who I learned it from.” We both forced out a laugh.

“You know I think I finally understand you.” I announced, my voice rising over the thunder.

“The greatest mistake I ever made was letting you come with me that day.” My face fell. “And all the pain and suffering it has caused you.” I nodded in the most thanks or forgiveness I could force out.

“I would have done it again in a heartbeat.” I shouted. Dad looked up at me through his tears. I smiled through my next words. “Because I got to be with my dad, and that’s all that matters to me.” I searched to meet his eyes which had fallen once again so he felt my full meaning. “That we weren’t alone.”

I rose to stand and walked to stand on the precipice of the balcony.

“Mum couldn’t have been helped.” I stated. “But you came back to me.”

“I will always come back for you, darling.”

“But I won’t let you lose yourself, like mum did.” I pleaded with him through gritted teeth which held back my tears. At the next crack of lightning, I hurriedly lifted Robert up and braced him to be flung off the building, simulating a kick. But I stopped and turned back to the image of my father over my dying mother.

“I’m gonna stay.” I announce. “You need help to get Saito back.” He understood my fears and the possibility that he won’t come back but he merely smiled at my concern.

“No. I’ll be fine. You go with Robert. You need to be with him.” He lowered his voice and the sincerity in his words electrified the air between us. I softly smiled to match his own. Grasped Robert’s body in my arms. I leaned back and let gravity consume us.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A gasp awoke us both and the crack of the defibrillator drew my attention to Robert. I scrambled up and crawled over to his body. He jumped to life and his eyes shot open. They softened once they met my own and I could barely wait to embrace him again. Once we met in a hug, he weakly reciprocated and placed a soft kiss on my hairline. I leaned back and cupped his face, stroking his soft skin to commit it to memory.

“You need to go now. You need to see what’s in that vault.” My eyes flitted up towards the door and he stretched back to follow my gaze.

He clambered up and faced the door. His footsteps forward stalled. He turned back and faced where I merely watched.

“Will you come too?” He stuttered out as if afraid for my answer.

“Of course.” I confidently spoke despite my beating heart. I ran up to him and clasped his hand in my own. We looked at each other in newfound comfortability. We needn’t speak as we both knew that whatever was to come, neither one of us were facing it alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

ahhhh we're getting so close to the end!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67

[nrwynter]

I haven't done one of these in forever! I think the last one I did was... four years ago? I thought it would be fun to make one again with my improved art skills and show the work that was put into this piece.

The final piece was one of three idea prompts I submitted for the zine. I was already sketching out thumbnails while I was waiting for approval, but I did draw for one of the rejected prompts as well. (Unfortunately I don't have access to them at this time but I'll add at a later date).

Once the weapon prompt was approved, I got started on a rough sketch. (The sketches were drawn cleaner than what I would normally do to make sure it was readable haha). The toughest part of the piece was its composition. Scattering the weapons was hard because I needed to make sure everything looked balanced and focus was placed on the master sword.

What ended up working for me was I managed to grab as many weapon models from the game as I could find, threw them into Blender, and arranged them until it looked good. A bonus of doing this was having good references for both the piece and the individual weapons themselves (which came in handy when I had to draw some of the detailing). The models were also size accurate so that helped a ton too. I did have to upscale the smaller weapons so they'd be more visible on the cover.

Some of the weapon placement was deliberate, others were put there to fill in space or for another reason. The majority of the characters wielded some variation of a sword so I sprinkled in different weapons and other things to break up the repetition. That includes stuff like the Fierce Deity Mask and Toon Zelda's helmet. The more sillier weapons like Tingle's balloon and King Daphnes' sail were placed in the back so they wouldn't clash too much with the other weapons.

I'll talk about some of the more of the symbolic stuff further down the post.

I also drew an alternative version of this piece with Link being in the center instead of the master sword.

Fun fact: at one point I did consider including Ganon since he's technically playable, but realized he doesn't have a weapon. This would have meant I would also had to include the big Cucco from the cucco mode so neither were ever conceptualized.

I intentionally left the art's tone ambiguous just in case the mod team had something in mind. I did picture it having a dawn color scheme though, and the mods wanted the cover to have a peaceful/hopeful vibe so that worked out. I did however add some sunset choices in my color concepts for more options. The four I made also had sepia versions to fit with the aesthetics of the game.

8 was the one the mods chose. However, I did end up slightly adding 6's colors into it to make the sky pop. This ended up being the finalized color concept.

(It looks a little fuzzy because I ended up layering 8 and 6 on top of each other and I didn't position them correctly fghj).

When I do illustrations I start with the background first so I can use its colors for the foreground and midground. I normally don't draw clouds this big and up close so I had to be pretty delicate with how I rendered it. I'm glad I only had to do one side and just duplicate it to the other. Also I made the oranges in the sky and clouds subdued.

After the background was done, I tried rendering the ground and it was a disaster. This was early on in the rendering phase, but what was meant to be dirt started to look like sand. I tried to see if adding textures would help but it made the problem worse. I ended up taking a break from the ground and moved on to the weapons.

Next was the most grueling part of the piece: linearting. I am not kidding when I say doing the lineart took three whole days. I was also juggling with my other illustration I was working on for the zine so the timeline ended up stretching to a week. I'm a detail-oriented person and stuff like this isn't usually that bad for me but this one was pretty rough. The sweat and tears paid off, I think!

After lineart was done, I went back to render the ground again. It was becoming more polished and included more small rock formations, but the dirt-looking-like-sand bit wasn't improved. I opted to add grass instead since that would be easier to render. That was probably the right call because I think that helped with the desired tone for the cover.

I flipped-flopped between working on the grass and the weapons. This screenshot was when I had added the shading, textures, and some highlights. Oh, and I slightly tweaked the sky a bit.

With the grass and rendering done comes my favorite part: color editing. Started throwing overlays, soft lights, what have you on everything and used color balance to level out the colors. Also added light reflection on the ground for some of the weapons.

Something was missing from the illustration and I had no idea what it was. A friend had suggested particle effects and that did the trick! Everything was set and done and I submitted my illustration. When I saw the cover with the title for the first time, I noticed that the illustration was made a bit brighter than what I originally had (likely so the title stuck out better). I actually really liked that change and edited my own copy of my illustration accordingly.

With that said, now I want to talk about some of the more subtle details in this piece. You guys probably noticed these already, but I want to talk about them anyway! I mentioned deliberate weapon placements some ways up so let me go over that first.

Ghirahim's sword, Zelda's rapier, and the master sword are placed in sort of a triangular way meant to represent the triforce (although I think I messed up on the distance between them). I originally wanted Ganondorf's swords being in Ghirahim's spot but I was worried about contrast issues with the swords' darker color scheme and battling attention away from the master sword. I think the idea still works considering Ghirahim is Demise's sword (and Demise is like the Ganondorf of that game). Though Ganondorf's current placement can be viewed as him being a looming threat, for Hyrule Warriors and other Zelda titles.

I have Lana's tome and Cia's scepter close together to symbolize them being two sides of the same coin. Toon Link and Toon Zelda's were placed on opposite sides of the piece but slightly facing each other. Toon Link's and Tetra's are also diagonal from each other, both also representing a type of connection to each other. It's a similar deal with both forms of Midna's weapons as well as Yuga and Ravio. Speaking of Ravio, his weapon is the only one partially buried, sort of peaking over at the master sword to reflect his cowardice natureand being Link's Lorule opposite (at least the Link from a Linked Between Worlds). A similar idea with Fi is that she is somewhat of a silhouette behind the master sword to reflect her growth in Skyward Sword. (I know technically Fi is represented twice here, but her "weapon" in Hyrule Warriors is a different blade so that's why).

Like I said before not all weapons have symbolic placements like this, but a number of them do.

One more weapon detail I wanted to point out is on the master sword. I had this planned from the very beginning but I intentionally draped Link's scarf over the master sword so that the triforce of courage on the blade is the only one visible. I also intentionally highlighted the engraving to make it more prominent.

In the background, the sky is shaped in a way to resemble the Hyrulean royal crest. With the gap in between the clouds looking like the wings, the Master sword acting as the body, and the three visible stars as the triforce (but I messed that up slightly). Only thing I didn't include was the feet of the crest. It's not an exact 1-to-1, but here's an outline for a better visual:

On the topic of stars, there are 29 in total to represent all 29 characters. The brightest star above the master sword is meant to represent Link, but the other 28 are scattered around. Some are more visible than others so it may be hard to spot them all, but they're there.

Saving this last detail because it doesn't really have anything to do with Zelda and more to do with my art. I have always wanted to do this with my work for a while but haven't implemented it until now so I wanted to bring it attention.

From now on, all of my illustrations will have a hidden little angler fish blended into the scenery. I got the inspiration from Adventure Time's snail that appears in almost every episode incorporated somewhere and thought I could do something similar with my art. I'll show you guys where I placed this one, but you'll have to find the next ones on your own.

Not the clearest, but I promise in the future it'll be better drawn (and in case you're wondering, yes there are also little anglerfish in the other zine illustration too!). I just thought this would be a fun way people can interact with my art (and also act as an additional signature).

And that's it! If you have read all of my rambles, thank you!

[kyliesnaked]

The Mommy Protocol

Chapter 2

I look in the mirror and try to remember a time when I didn’t look like this. I haven’t been this way for long, but the days were beginning to blend together. I knew all the important stuff and I struggled to hold on that as my only means of hope. My name is Alexis Reynolds. I’m twenty two years old, five foot four inches tall, blonde, thin, and beautiful. I’m in perfect health and fiercely independent. At least, I was.

Now, on my hands and knees, in a tee shirt that’s too small, and…something else. I’m now none of those things. I’m made to look like I feel, infantile and helpless. I can’t ignore the truth any longer, no matter how much I plead and beg, this is my new reality. I’m being babied by someone I can’t bargain with. Or reason with. There is no pity, or remorse, or fear. And it seems like it absolutely will not stop…ever!

I shift slightly and am again reminded of what’s been happening to me. The torture. The torment. Taped around my waist is the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced. A diaper. You read that right, a diaper. An honest to God diaper, like what babies wear, only bigger. Hell, before I became trapped here, I had no idea that diapers were even made this big. It was taped so snugly on my hips that even if I wanted to slip out of it, I couldn’t. Not without making a bunch of noise. And noise drew unwanted attention.

What was worse was the expectation that came with them. They were, after all, diapers, and were intended to be used as such. In fact, they were expressly put on me so that I had no choice but to use them, further adding to my torture. I was forbidden from doing my business anywhere but in them and even if I could take it off without being detected, there was no toilet to use. Sure, there was a tub, but the door was locked unless I was getting a bath. And I never took baths unsupervised. I never did anything unsupervised.

I crawled across the plush and well padded carpet, crinkling as I went. Being in one place for too long would prompt investigation, both of my activities and of the state of my diaper. You have never felt the level of embarrassment that I have, being a grown woman and having the back of your diaper, that you don’t need to wear, mind you, pulled open to see if you pooped. I learned quickly that it was unavoidable. Worse than that I had to do it with an audience. Everything I did came with an audience.

I sat my poofy butt in front of my toy bin and grimaced at the noise I made. Every movement made noise, a constant barrage of shifting plastic. Day in and day out, this is where I spent the majority of my time. There were various types of toys in the bin, an old wooden chest that looked like it belonged in a museum or some antique store. There were action figures for boys, dolls for girls, alphabet themed wooden blocks, and kid friendly plastic building blocks, among many others. The toys that were way too childish had since fallen to the bottom of the bin. Although I was made to look like a baby, and play like one, even I couldn’t bring myself to stack colored rings on a post all day.

I began to pull some of the dolls out and spread them across the floor. There was a doll house next to the toy box that was secured to the floor so I couldn’t move it, but it had three layers that I could reach from a sitting position, a fourth if I kneeled. Themed as the ultimate beach house, it had tables, chairs, a bed, bathroom, music area, surfboard area, and elevator, a spiral, staircase, and even its own pool. If I sound overly excited about it, it’s because it is all I really had to interact with. There wasn’t a television to watch, my cell phone had been confiscated weeks ago, and I had no way of contacting the outside world. So this beach house was the only way I could keep from curling into a ball and sobbing all day.

My stomach growled and right on cue a warm bottle tapped my shoulder. I look up and take it, trying to muster the right face that will earn me some pity. I get none. A large bulbous nipple adorns the bottle, large enough to allow for adequate flow of liquids. I was watched as I took it, my bottom lip quivering, knowing what was expected of me. I tilted and slowly rolled onto my back. I held the bottle in my hand for a moment, my passive resistance, before a hand reached down and guided the bottle by the base to my lips. Another tear rolled down my cheek as the nipple pressed against my lips. My teeth parted and I allowed the nipple into my mouth. The bottle was held there until I started drinking from it. The hand retreated and I was watched until I had drunk half of it. It was milk, warmed to a pleasant temperature, mixed with a nutrient supplement powder. It didn’t taste bad but like everything else, its delivery was tormenting. I knew full well how to drink from a glass.

I emptied the bottle and handed it back before sitting back up. I burped softly and returned to pulling out my dolls. In an hour or so, I would be subjected to the high chair and spoon feeding, but for the moment, I was left alone. Nearly all of my waking moments were routinely structured. After breakfast would be another bottle, and likely a diaper change. The amount of fluids and fiber enriched foods being pushed on me all but guaranteed that I would have to use my diapers, a concept I found revolting and humiliating. The practice was by the far the worst thing that I’ve ever had to do, and I have no choice in the matter. It’s constantly on my mind that I have to endure it over and over again, then be carried to the table where I’m put on full display as I’m cleaned, knowing that if I make any attempt to interfere, I’ll lose use of my hands.

My life was currently a never ending nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from, no matter how hard I tried.

[tanetime]

20. Does Wyneer have any interesting facts regarding his creation?

This turned into me just rambling about making Wyneer and I'm so sorry.

I made Wyneer because me and some friends at the time decided to make DST mods together. My design prompt was "a jack of all trades." I pieced together inspiration from some old noh actor OCs of mine and imagery from a song I was obsesed with at the time and got Wyneer out of it.

The face on his mask used to be a lot smaller, and his hair less angular. You can see him become more DST-animatic-like over time... it's like putting a normal dog next to a pug.

His original outfit (not pictured bc the art sucked) was a lot fancier and later became the basis for his original guest of honour skin.

Wyneer originally had no name or gender or personality at all. He was supposed to be a blank slate and exaggerate certain personality traits through his masks...

...The problem was that I didn't have any masks. It took like six months for the first ones to get concept art. In that time, Wyneer developed an identity of his own. So the masks had to change into being different 'people'.

Wyneer himself hasn't changed very much, but his masks changed a lot. Under the cut I'll talk about the masks who made it into his mod, but here's two that didn't:

A kelp based mask, who was supposed to be used during seafaring. I think they got more stats from eating raw fish to allow them to stay at sea longer? They were very creature and liked to just sit in ponds.

A beefalo-wool mask who had an affinity toward animals. I don't have a whole lot of concept art of them because I drew them once and went "that's it that's the design."

Both of these masks got cut because ultimately I couldn't come up with anything for them to do that justified them existing. I don't think they'll ever come back.

As for the ones that made it in...

now let's talk about

The Masks

Here's some quick-fire things.

1. Fright n Flight, Brave Face and Laborious were the first masks I made, and I made them all together. Fright was the first to get modded in, Brave was the first to get sprites, and Lay was the first to develop an individual personality that wasn't part of Wyneer.

For the longest time the masks in his mod looked like this because they had no designs (that's Fright on the right):

2. Brave Face and About Face only exist because their names are puns, and their mechanics are based on those puns. Boutey was supposed to be a comedy/tragedy mask until he became whatever the hell he ended up as.

3. Going back to Brave, if you'll remember I said that Wyneer's masks added to his personality originally. Back then his masks had more abstract designs and weren't designed to emote. For a very small period of time, Brave was a dragon!

There's nothing left of this iteration other than his sharp teeth.

Fright was also a monster for a bit, but this was around the time I decided to make the masks people, so they became more reminisent of human faces instead.

Brave was the hardest mask to design. He used to be blue and green and resemble actual artefacts that were supposedly made by Celtic tribes, but the colours 1. looked bad digitally 2. bore no resemblence to any materials in Don't Starve. His final design was colour-picked from Wigfrid's Winged Victory set for cohesion.

It pains me that he's now a typical movie interprenation of generic Celtic things but it does make sense that Wyneer mistakenly thought that was what he should look like...

4. About Face and Jet Black were originally the same mask. About Face was originally "a rogue that becomes a tank" so his high sanity form couldn't be noticed by enemies unless he attacked them first.

It was a bit much, and I was debating making a crow feather mask, so I split that half of Boutey into Blake's original version. It got coded in but I ultimately didn't like it and removed it.

5. Wyneer had a whooole upgrade pyramid of masks involving different seasons. The idea was that there were four masks that had a season that suited them, and you could combine the masks together to sets of pairs to ultimately form a mask that consolidated all of their perks.

I got as far as making Crimson and Azure (summer and winter) before realising that the idea sounded cool on paper but introduced a lot of masks that were going to be redundant.

Wyneer did design Jet Black with the intent of him consolidating Crimson and Azure's abilities, but that's not quite what purple gems do.

6. Nightmare Face used to glow magenta, like the other Ruins stuff. However, DST's colour cubes wash out magenta into a disgusting grey colour under certain circumstances, so I changed it to red.

Klei later did the same thing with the Nightmare Werepig. I wonder if the same realisation happened to them.

7. The masks were originally supposed to have slightly different hair and wear Wyneer's clothes differently. I did the former for Brave and Boutey and immediately realised that it would be a nightmare and stopped doing it for the remaining masks.

8. Several of Wyneer's masks are based on venetian masks.

9. Wyneer's masks had a crafting tab icon before Klei nuked it. I still think it looks cool.

10. The masks in Wyneer's mod are fully animated and have a disgusting amount of sprites. I wanted each one to feel unique, so I drew them all from scratch. It took so long to make them all that you can see me getting better or rustier between each one... it was a lot of work, but I really enjoy searching for an emotion and seeing how each one looks.

11. Wyneer's masks are so unique that they broke the Modded Skins API and as of this post the hyperspecific glitch that effects him has not been fixed. Thanks Wyneer.

...I could go on forever, but this post is way too long...

As a sendoff, here are the beta inventory icons for the masks, for no particular reason.

[hunting-songs]

BAD SITUATIONS: STARTERS

💡 for our muses to wait out a power outage together

BAD SITUATIONS: STARTERS - a collection of prompts for bad situations that two muses might find themselves in together, ranging from minor inconveniences to life-or-death scenarios. change & alter as needed. "Mhmmm..the last time I had traveled with a train, had been when I had met Kurapika for the first time." Senritsu looked over the cards in her small hands at Basho and Kurapika sitting opposite of her- Basho holding gamecards himself and the younger man hiding behind a opned book. The light from the traincompartment dyed everything in a yellow, warm hue as if they were playing cards on a late autumnafternoon and not in the middle of the night with the world past the warm electric lights of the train deep black and cold and endlessly long. There was a permanent humming in the air from the train beenath them moving, but over that were Bashos heartbeat singing her a content song, Kurapikas heartbeat that was calm and almost relaxed, and the noises of the other passengers in the compartments of the train that were either deep asleep in the late hour or tiered and slow. "Now that sounds like exciting company. Must have been a long trainride full of the most friendliest frowns, the kindest deathstares whenever you dare to breath in his direction, and the most sweetest 'don't talk to me, I am reading'. Not that I have ever expierenced that myself for the past two hours. Nohohohohoho." The burly man shot Kurapika a dramatic wriggle of his thick eyebrows that was more playful than actually meanspirited. Senritsu used the fact that he was looking to his seatneighbour and pulled a card out of her sleeve, adding it to her hand nimbly before humming truthfully like others would humm the sweetest melody: "He was the kindest company who even helped me put my suitcase out of the way." "Ha! Of course he did, little gentleman he is. Wonder why I had to put my own suitcase away today when he was around." There was a short moment in which Basho looked confused at the "take 2" - card Senritsu had just placed on the table between them, because he swore the woman had had before only four cards on her hand and that number had not changed. Yet the smile on the womans round face was sweet, so eventually he simply took two more cards up on his hand. "Then we were attacked by armed men who tried to rob Kurapika of his Hunter- licence, because he had used it as a trainticket.", Senritsu added and Basho almost choked on his laughter. Three cards disappeard in the womans sleeve. Grinning so wildly it seemed a miracle that grin did not circled around his whole head Basho looked to the side, friendly nudging his heavy elbow against the younger Hunters side: "Bwaha! Really? What a rookie-mistake!" Senritsu lay down another card that had not been on her hand before and the big man swallowed his laughter with a painful sound when he had to again take up more cards. The woman chuckled knowingly, although gently: "As if you have never done that when you came fresh out of the Hunter-exam, Mr. I-got-my-licence-with-twenthy-and-went-wild. I know I did, before learning my lesson." "I should have never played never-have-I-ever with you, you are like gundog for embarassing secrets. Yes, I did that- " the man rose a thick finger like a teacher teaching an important lesson: "-but that was a decade ago and I was alone when I got rounded up. So in contrast to this rookie here," it seemed as if Basho wanted to pat Kurapikas head, but changed his mind in the last moment as he only laughed: "- my mistake is long forgotten and noone will ever remember it." "Except me now.", Senritsu sang those words in the most sweetest tune, laying down her last card and fluttering her short eyelashes up at the other as innocently as she was definitive not. A confused frown drew a long line deep like a scar between Bashos bushy eyebrows: "...except you now. Huh, the gundog strikes again. I should really stop playing games with you."

The woman just took the cards back from him and started to shuffle them with small, nimble hands: "You wouldn´t be so cruel to me, Basho." "Never, but-" The next second a thick, heavy wave of blackness splashed down on them and filled the compartment when the lamps above their heads suddenly went out. From one moment to another the train stoppd and Senritsu would have landed on the floor, if it would not have been for one of Bashos big hands grabbing promptly for her shoulder to press her uncerimonically back into the bench as if she was a child sitting in the sidecar seat and her parent had hit the brakes too hard with one hand instinctively on their childs shoulder to keep them in place despite the seatbelt. A poltering sound like thunder stabbed into the womans ears when the sudden stop threw their baggage out of the nets over the seat´s and landed loud on the floor, joining the much too loud cacophony of the other passengers baggage in the other compartments hitting the floor accompanied with suprised yells and loud cussing. The blackness was far from quiet. And between this orchestra of confused voices, cursing, rapid breathing, startled heartbeats and the echo of screeching metal when the train had hit the brakes, something else reached the Musicians ears. Something like a whisper.

"Are you two alright?" Senritsu hastily asked in the blackness surrounding them, only to answer her own question in the same breath and a assuring nod to herself: "Good to hear that." Tiltining her head to the side like a attentove bird, Senritsu listened into the waves of noises around her- she heard the corridor on the other side of their compartmentdoor flooded with the nervosue footsteps of passangers stepping outside to ask what had happned, she heard scraps of conversations consisting of 'Dark', 'blackout', 'stop'; she heard children crying who had woken up from the sudden stop, she heard the tiered moaning of electronics that had a second before still worked but couldn't start now, she heard the doors of the train opening and the footsteps of the trainconductor stepping on the grass outside. "The whole train is dark. It seems to be a blackout-", the woman stood up, her head still tilted to the side as she listened more swiftly through the wild swirl of voices until she could hear the hasty, nervouse conversation of two trainguards with one of the voices belonging to the trainguards who had an hour before controlled their tickets and had chuckled at seeing how Senritsu nimbly had taken a card out of her sleeve that Basho had not noticed: "-yes, a blackout, the staff says." There was rustling of cloth when the Music-Hunter took Bashos hand from her shoulder, squeezed it thankfully in her small hands, and then hopped off the bench. It was deep black around her, but the noises reflected from the walls of the train and the luggage on the floor, so she knew perfectly where people and things were located and her steps were sure and without any hestiation: "Stay here. I heard the trainoperator step outside and will ask him what is wrong." Not even looking back- after all only blackness would look back- the woman opned the door to their compartment and stepped outside on the corridor. Silver moonlight fell through the windows in thin threads on the corridor,dyeing everything around her grey and colourless. Nimbly the short woman stepped around other passangers until she reached one of the trains doors- the one with the hightuned creaking hinges through which she had heard the trainoperator walk outside- and stepped outside. Past the trains metalwalls the traintracks lead through a valley surrounded by high grass that spanned the world past the trainracks like an ocean. And like an ocean the tall grass, taller than Senritsu, taller than the passengers stepping outside behind the woman, the grass swayed in the icy nightbreeze. In the little light of the moon and the stars the grass looked as if drawn with dark ink. Its shadows scampered over the valley of black, grassless earth the traintracks had been build on. The Blackness was far from quiet. Between the voices, different breaths and heartbeats inside the train, between the rustling of the clothes of the other passangers who had left the train and now went along the tracks curiously, between the conductors quiet muttering, between the rustling of the tall grass moving in a barely feelable breeze, there was something else reaching her ears. Something like a whisper. "What is that? Did you fled from Bashos jokes, Kurapika?", the woman looked over her shoulder up to her colleague who had joined her outside. An amused smile that was far from beeing suprised about him follwing her, curled around her stark frontteeth as she winked friendly up to him and hummed: "You should give him a chance. He has a great sense of humor." [ @skarletchains ]

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

-

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted. 

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”

[hxt1b]

A Boy Like Him

Jeno x Reader

Requested Prompt 13 Pretend Girlfriend for  @deepangelchaos

Genre: Fluff, maybe a little angsty  

WC: 2.8k

Warning: Swearing, Mental Health (y/n has a panic attack)  

Masterlist 

Prompt List, for any requests anyone may have. 

There were many moments in a day you wondered 'what the fuck is my life?' Many times you'd look in the mirror and it would be hard for you to remember what your life use to be like. The past four months had been a fast blur of media, paparazzi and fake public cuddles. You weren't made for this shit but somehow you literally drew the short stick. 

"You want us to what?" Aera asked looking at your manager shocked. You could tell your best friend was not pleased by what you'd just been told. Sena also grumbled from your left. 

"It's only a year." He said looking at the three of you expectantly, "only one of you has to do it and its exposure. Come on." He wasn't selling it very well. You sighed. 

"Why us?" Sena asked. 

"I don't know they just asked us." He replied. 

"Why now?" Aera asked. Your manager shrugged again. 

"Look it'll be good for your YouTube careers, that's a lot of people who will want to know who you are and they'll watch you. A lot of new fans!" He said. 

"A lot of fucking hate too." You said glaring at him. 

"Good comes with the bad." He said. You sighed weighing his options. 

"Just think about it." 

So the three of you thought about it, in the end, he was right. You could steadily grow your YouTube channel, you already were, but this would make it a lot faster, and it couldn't really hurt could it?

"Are you ready?" Jeno asked snapping you out of your thoughts. You nodded closing your laptop lid and standing up. 

Sena fluttered out of the other room, her energy high not matched by anyone else in the room. Aera followed her hands tucked into her pocket. One glance towards Jeno and she had a scowl growing on her face.  

You laughed awkwardly getting in between her and Jeno. You realized that you were the reason for the anger directed at the boy however that didn't make the situation any less awkward in your head. 

"Let's film?" Sena said clapping her hands. Jeno nodded not saying anything and let you and your friends lead the way to your filming studio. 

You watched as Jeno walked up to the two seats set up for you both and sat down next to you. Sena slipped behind the camera, and Aera took a seat next to a table with a laptop on it off-camera. 

"Okay rolling in 3, 2…" Sena pointed at you. 

"Hello, my dudes." You started clapping lightly getting the attention of every mic in the room and the viewers. You launched straight into a short intro. "Welcome back to our channel. Everyone has been asking for this video a lot so here we are today, as you can probably tell from the title of the video we're doing the boyfriend tag." You looked over at Jeno a smile on your face, he smiled back at you his eyes disappearing. 

Your stomach turned, that fluttery feeling that you'd rarely ever felt. And your awkward smile fell to a much more relaxed one as you looked at him continuing to speak to the camera. It was sad though, and you knew it, your crush on him. 

"This is fake you know what right?" He clarified the day you met. You nodded quickly irritated in your head, you'd read the damn contract. 

"Good okay we're supposed to 'hang out' together for a couple of hours and make sure that we get spotted by the paparazzi." You nodded as he explained that he was going to walk around with you for a few minutes and then you'd be coming back to his dorm to sit around. Little did you know that after your very very short walk around the park that when you'd get back she would be here. 

So there you were stuck in NCT dreams dorm while your fake boyfriend didn't even want to get to know you on a basic human level. 

He told you to watch TV while he went into his room with his actual girlfriend. Lucky for you Chenle came into the living room only seconds later. The younger boy didn't say anything just sat down next to you and watched the anime you'd put on. 

"He's not a bad person." He randomly said you just nodded not knowing what he was saying."I mean you know why the company made the contract right?" Chenle asked. 

"How did you two meet?" Aera asked. Her voice flat. You glanced over at her keeping the smile on your face. 

"Well," You started. 

"At the park." Jeno cut you off, adjusting in his seat. "I was on a bike ride. These three were at the park taking photo's they asked me to take a photo. I thought they meant with me but they meant of them, it was awkward." He chuckled and you also laughed lightly. That had happened. The first time he met your friends you'd all gone to the park, Sena had asked for a picture. 

"He's grumpy today." You sighed as the three of you sat on the bench overlooking the green field after taking the pictures. 

"He seems to always be fucking grumpy," Aera said rolling her eyes. 

"I mean cut him some slack his girlfriend did leave him," Sena said. Aera snickered. 

"She was a bitch and everyone knew it. His friend knew it the company knew it. That's why this contract exists in the first place because if word had gotten out that he was dating her his reputation would have plummeted so they looked for someone that would make him look good." Aera sneered in the direction of Jeno, he was on the phone talking to Jaemin. "When she was done with him she left." 

After that Aera never warmed up to him. 

In all honesty, you regretted telling your friends. Aera was too quick to judgement, Sena was kinder sometimes too kind. You needed a good medium, someone who would complain but not hate, but they were what you had and together you got the balance, but there were moments where you didn't. 

You stared at Jeno as Aera and Sena began to debate how he should react and how he should handle it, but you'd been there when she'd left him. You were on the couch with Chenle watching your fifth anime together in the three weeks that you'd been coming over. 

Jeno had cried. She was bad for him, but he'd loved her. 

The questions continued, and the two of you continued to tell half-truths, stories you'd both been told to create. You didn't flinch outwardly when Jeno pulled your chair closer to his pulling you into his side, and you tried your best to keep calm when his arm circled your waist. It's just for the camera you told yourself. 

"Now for the fan questions," Aera said, turning the laptop towards you two. You turned your head squinting at the screen. 

"Can you bring it closer?" Jeno asked for you. Aera moved the table in front of you and set up the laptop. 

"Press play." You leaned forwards and did as you were told. A video played on the screen, a clip of an anime. A boy was walking holding two popsicles, he sat on a bench next to a girl and passed her both the treats. 

"They're both mine?" She asked looking over at the boy shocked. He just nodded. 

"You like both flavours right?" He asked as he grew embarrassed. She smiled up at him in the cute anime fashion. 

The clip ended and cut to a paparazzi video of you on a bench, Jeno sitting next to you as you held two popsicles, his arms were crossed over his chest as he looked away from you. You looking at him in amazement much like the girl from the anime. 

"The question that was asked was, 'did you intend to re-create an anime or are you guys just that damn adorable?" Your cheeks flushed as you stared at the laptop. Jeno next to you was also frozen. 

"I guess we're just that damn adorable." He quietly replied. You looked up at him and giggled lightly. He was smiling at you again, you were afraid the butterflies in your stomach were going to kill you. You looked away from him quickly. 

"I don't think we've even seen that anime." You added to his answer. 

"Why can't I have a guy like that." You whined to Chenle as the two of you watched a cute anime couple stand in the middle of a crowded plaza, his hand in her hair as he ruffled it. He'd just told her that he knew her after she accused him of not knowing a single thing about her. He'd proved that he in fact did by handing the character her favourite flower, a rare type of lily. 

"I thought you didn't like romance anime?" Chenle teased. You threw your pillow at him. 

"Shut up." Chenle laughed loudly at your reaction making you laugh. 

You jumped when Jeno walked into the living room scaring you. 

"Want to go for a walk?" He asked. You nodded. 

"Sure." 

You'd ended up at the park as the sun set. 

"Wait here." He'd said motioning for you to sit on the bench, confused you'd sat down as he ran off. He'd come back minutes later with the two popsicles. Handing you them both. 

"Strawberry and Lime." He said, "I know you like both the flavours and I know you have a sweet tooth." 

"Not going to lie, kinda creepy that someone took a video of you two like that," Sena said turning the camera off after you'd closed off the video. 

"It was a paparazzi." You said getting up from the chair. 

"Just gotta go to the bathroom." You added and quickly left the room. Sitting that close to him was always hard for you. That popsicle incident was a month after he'd gotten dumped, he'd hung out with you a little bit more before the day at the park and your interactions had only grown after that but they were all friendly not enough to call you guys good friends though. 

You turned the faucet on letting the water cool your sweating hands. Your heart was racing and you couldn't calm the damn butterflies, your head replaying the way he pulled your chair to him, flashing you the memories of him giving you the cold treats. 

"It's fake." Aera's voice said in your head. 

"It's fake." You muttered to yourself.  

After drying your hands you pulled the door open and jumped when you almost bumped into Jeno. He was leaning on the wall right next to the bathroom. 

"Are you waiting for the bathroom?" You asked, he shook his head, his hand reaching out and grabbing your sleeve. He fiddled with the thumb hole of your hoodie, the butterflies you'd been trying to stomp out coming back. 

"I was waiting for you, it's really awkward being in a room with Aera she keeps on giving me a death glare." You laughed, bringing his eyes up to yours. 

"Y/N," He started his voice quiet. 

"Y/N!" Sena yelled running out and barrelling towards you a huge smile on her face. 

"WE JUST HIT A MILLION SUBSCRIBERS." 

"WE DID?" You asked your hand flying to your friend forcing Jeno to let go of your sleeve. 

"HELL YEAH WE DID," Aera said running into the hallway as well, as Sena pulled you in for a hug. Aera slamming into the both of you not even a second later. 

—

You typically never paid attention to the hate, but as your numbers grew so did the rude and obnoxious comments. 

"You're not watching," Chenle whined as you scrolled on your phone. 

"Sorry." You mumbled as you tossed the phone onto the couch, your eyes caught Jeno's as you turned back to the TV. He'd started watching with you a couple of weeks ago. 

 You didn't keep your gaze with his long, just turned to the screen. But you couldn't watch, your brain was reeling with the hate. It was like they forgot you were a human being. Some people would act like you having other friends was a crime. There was a portion of the internet rioting over a photo of you and Jaemin. 

Renjun had wanted the boys to go get lunch together at a restaurant, complaining about being stuck inside all the time. No one had the heart to say no, not even you. 

The picture was taken as you all exited the place, Jaemin had grabbed the back of your shirt as you'd tripped, but it looked odd. The next photo was of him pulling you into him. 

That was a week ago the two of you were being called all sorts of names. Chenle had told you to ignore it, that it will blow over, but it was easier said than done. Not being able to focus as your eyes blurred you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

Taking your phone with you. Your hands shook as you locked the bathroom and sank to the floor, you were determined to not cry over the hate but it was starting to feel like you couldn't breathe.

You scrolled through your contacts and called your friends, neither answered. Their phones off. You knew they'd gone to see a movie today, but you'd hoped that maybe their phones wouldn't be off. 

You went to the sink and turned on the water, watching the cold water swirl into the drain as you tried to calm your breathing, it wasn't working. 

A knock on the bathroom door startled you. 

"Y/N" It was Jeno. "Are you okay?" He asked. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your eyes were red with unshed tears and you looked frazzled. 

"Y-yeah." You replied your voice shaking slightly. 

"Can I come in?" He asked. You froze for a second before turning off the faucet and unlocking the door letting him know he could come in. 

He opened the door slowly as he came into the bathroom. He looked at you for a second before his arms came around you pulling you into his chest. You began to cry, as he shushed you. He didn't say anything further, just held you until you calmed down. 

An hour later you were sat on his bed Jeno next to you as he told you about his favourite anime that he wanted you and Chenle to watch with him. You nodded as he spoke taking in every word that came out of his perfect mouth. 

You couldn't help but want to kiss him as his enthusiasm about the anime grew. His eyes were shining. You hadn't seen Jeno like this, and it wasn't helping with your feelings. Your heart was doing summersaults, he stopped talking as you stared at him. 

"Are you listening to me?" He asked snapping you out of your daze. 

"Of course." You replied crossing your legs on his bed as he moved closer to you. 

"Are you sure?" He asked, and you laughed awkwardly, "what did I just say?"  

"Are you sure?" You answered smartly, a teasing tone as you smiled at him. He narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pouting. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words flew out of your brain as Jeno pressed his lips against yours, his hand snaking around the side of your face as he pulled you to him. 

Shocked you pulled back, looking at him; eyes wide. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He said moving back from you. Your brain was in overdrive, so many thoughts flooded in as you stared at him. He was moving away from you. 

You ignored everything in your head and grabbed his wrist. 

"Don't apologize." You said and pulled him back to you, moving your lips to his again, you kissed him slowly taking in the way he felt against you. The way he still tasted like the chocolate he'd just eaten, and given you half of. 

You breathed heavily when he pulled away from you again. 

"Fuck." Was the only word that left his mouth as he stared at you before grabbing you again. 

The next day he texted you asking you to go to the park with him, you met him at the bench he'd given you the popsicles at. He was smiling at you as he approached you, his hand tucked behind his back. 

He came to a stop in front of you, and you looked up at him a curious expression on his face. 

"I got you something." He said and moved his hand towards you. A Levi pop animation bobblehead in his hand. 

"It's your favourite anime right?" You looked up at him shocked and nodded. 

"I knew it." 

[cali-holland]

Hubby- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by Anonymous: Hello my love! can I get a cute request? just super cute domestic Tom and y/n. Because we all know love isn't just about the grand gestures, but the simple moments or giggling together and making faces in the mirror as you brush your teeth, him stealing a slice of veggie off the chopping board as you get dinner ready, him complaining that you like too many cushions on the bed, the little mumbled 'love you' as you both go to sleep. I'm down for reading anything like that . love your writing :)

Prompt: Tom makes even the simplest of days amazing.

Word Count: 4800

Warnings: Swearing, sexual jokes/innuendos, some pain (Tom gets hit in the balls at one point), LOTS of fluff

A/N: this is for the lovely @cunaeparker​ ‘s writing challenge, the prompt is in bold! I combined it with the request because it just went so well with all the fluff!!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

The familiar sound of a cell phone buzzing drew you out of your deep sleep. With your eyes still closed, you cuddled closer to Tom’s chest, hoping that the phone would quit ringing soon. He shifted underneath you as he tried to reach his phone on the nightstand, but seeing as you two were tangled up on your side of the bed and there was basically a mountain of pillows on his side, he couldn’t quite grab it without moving away from you.

“Just leave it.” You mumbled, not wanting him (a.k.a. your pillow) to move.

“Love, it’s my mum.” He laughed lightly, the vibrations running through his bare chest to your cheek. He pressed a kiss to your head, before you shifted off him so he could get his phone. He picked up the call and resumed his position as your morning cuddle buddy. You wrapped an arm around his waist and laid your head back on his chest. His free hand mindlessly found its way to play with your hair.

“No, you didn’t wake us.” Tom told his mother, but the raspiness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her. He laughed, “Okay, yes, you did.” He paused and you could hear her voice coming through the phone. Tom looked down at you for a moment, “Are we still on for the barbecue this afternoon?”

“We can be?” You answered. You both knew he obviously forgot to mention how his mother invited the two of you to a barbecue.

“Yes, mum, we’ll be there. What do you want us to bring?” He spoke back into the phone. “Vegetables? That’s not broad at all.” You lightly smacked his chest at his sarcasm, and his free hand came down to hold the hand that just hit him, “Okay, yeah we can do a salad.” There was another pause as she spoke to him before he replied, “Y/N would love to make some dessert.” Hearing him sign you up for food, you playfully glared at him. He said goodbye to his mother and tossed his phone to the side. You sat up and straddled his waist on your knees, your hands falling by his head to keep your face above his.

“Looks like we’re going grocery shopping.” Tom smiled up at you innocently, his hands resting on your hips.

“When were you going to tell me your mum invited us over?” You asked.

“Now, I guess,” He shrugged slightly. With his thumbs drawing light circles on your hips, he teasingly added, “When were you going to give me my morning kiss?”

You shrugged in return, but leaned down to kiss him nonetheless. He smiled into the kiss, moving a hand to cradle the back of your head, keeping you in place to continue kissing you.

“Your morning breath’s shit.” He laughed, pulling away from the innocent-turned-a-bit-heated kiss as you sat up straight.

“Yeah, well you have the ugliest bed head I have ever seen.” You teased, ruffling his hair. He caught your wrist, pulling your hand down to in front of his face.

“I believe this hand’s the culprit of that.” He joked, pecking your open palm.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” You shuffled off of him and got out of the bed. Walking over to your shared closet, you started to plan out a nice outfit for the day. “Come on, we gotta go grocery shopping.”

“Wanna shower together? Save time and save water?” Tom suggested, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You get so horny in the morning.” You laughed.

“I’m needy, not horny.” He insisted before pressing a kiss to your neck. “We’ll be conserving water. C’mon, wifey, think of the planet.”

“Alright, go start the shower.” Both of you knew you would cave like almost every morning, but it didn’t stop him from letting out an excited cheer. He pecked your cheek and left to go warm up the water.

Once you two were showered and dressed, you went to make some bacon and eggs for breakfast while Tom made you both a morning cup of tea.

“Bacon,” You stated, holding out a piece of bacon from your spot by the stove as he fixed you some tea at the island. He leaned over and ate the bacon from your fingers.

“Tasty.” He hummed, turning back to his task.

“It’s bacon, duh.” You laughed, eating a piece of bacon yourself.

“Shit. We don’t have any more milk.” Tom sighed, looking at the blank spot in the fridge where the milk would normally sit. He looked at the two mugs of tea and the bowl of sugar on the counter; without milk, it just wouldn’t be right.

“Did you finish it off?” You asked, knowing he made himself a cup of tea late last night before you two went to bed.

“Damn it, I did.” He let out a groan.

“So we need milk.” You noted, taking out your phone to create a legitimate list for the store; it’d be too long for you to remember everything. “What do we want for dinner tomorrow?”

“Wanna try that lamb recipe you found last week?” He suggested.

“Yeah, can you check what we need for that?”

“You got it.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You’d sent him the recipe just last week, saying that it looked good and that you two should try to make it sometime. He’d never made lambchops before so he was a bit skeptical, but agreed with you nonetheless. He walked through your kitchen and pantry, searching to make sure you had all of the ingredients, while you continued to finish cooking the eggs and bacon.

“Breakfast done yet?” He asked, finishing his search.

“Yep,” You replied as you dished up the food.

“You’re the best, darling.” Tom beamed, giving you a quick kiss. You grabbed both plates while he gathered the silverware and you both sat down at the small table in your kitchen nook.

“If only we had milk.” He pouted, eating a bite of the eggs.

“Hey, you drank the rest of it.” You reminded him.

“If I remember correctly, you said it was the best cuppa I’d ever made and you drank a good half of that.” He corrected you, but you just shook your head. “Wanna make that chocolate cake for dessert? I know Harry and Sam are going to be expecting it.”

Homemade chocolate cake- your ‘signature’ dessert that all of the Holland boys loved. In fact, it was that very cake that made Tom fall in love with you. The way to his heart was truly through his stomach.

“Why isn’t Sam making anything? He’s the chef.” You laughed, thinking about how Sam was insistent on being the head chef of the family.

“I think he’s actually making bread with some sort of dip.”

“Sam’s making us bread?” Your mouth was already watering at the thought of fresh homemade bread.

“We should try making bread sometime.” Tom offered. You nodded in agreement, you’d never made bread before but it’d be interesting to attempt it with Tom.

With breakfast over, Tom started to load up the dishwasher with your plates and the frying pans while you made your way into the bathroom to start on your makeup. By the time he’d finished and come into the room, you were just about to start your mascara.

“Can I do it?” He asked, an eager smile on his face.

“Don’t poke me in the eye, Holland.” You said, trying to sound threatening. You sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread so he could stand between them. You handed him the mascara tube. He had done your mascara a couple times before (because he just really really wanted to try to do your makeup) so you trusted him to do it, for the most part. As long as he didn’t stab you somehow, then you were fine. You sat still while he applied the makeup to your lashes.

“There. Does that look good, wifey?” He stepped back enough for you to turn and look in the mirror. It was even, you had to give him props for that, but it was almost nonexistent. He was still trying to find the happy medium between applying too little and applying too much.

“You did great.” You gave him a quick kiss and hopped off the counter to full face the mirror again. You applied some more mascara on your lashes quickly and he shook his head.

“I’ll get it one day.” He stated, getting out the toothbrush as you laughed lightly at him. Tom grabbed your toothbrush and his, running them under the sink before applying toothpaste to them.

“Thank you,” You smiled as he handed you your toothbrush. 

“Can we get bananas and macadamia nuts too?” Tom asked, half muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth as he stopped brushing. You spit out the toothpaste into the sink, looking at him through the mirror.

“You want me to make banana nut bread again?” You questioned, before continuing to brush your teeth.

“It’s the best.” He nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get the stuff for it.” You reassured him. He pulled out his phone, looking at a text he’d received as you eyed him through the mirror. Even when doing something as simple as brushing his teeth, your boyfriend was just breathtaking and you felt so lucky to have him. He noticed your gaze and pulled a funny face- well, as best he could while brushing his teeth. You laughed and leaned over the sink, spitting out the mixture of toothpaste and saliva in your mouth as you coughed. If it was anyone else beside you, you would’ve been embarrassed by the unattractiveness of the scene, but it was Tom, your loving boyfriend of four years.

“God, you’re making me choke on spit.” You laughed, cleaning off your toothbrush under the faucet.

“Spitters are quitters, babe.” Tom teased you and you playfully elbowed him in the torso, causing him to yelp in surprise. You stepped aside so he could use the sink. After spitting into the sink and rinsing out his mouth, he turned to you with a cheeky grin, “I know, I know. I of all people should know you’re not a spitter.”

“Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some of your perfume onto your neck. Your collection of perfume sat in the corner of the bathroom counter, right next to Tom’s own collection of cologne- ironically (but it was totally expected actually) he had more.

“By the way, my mum asked if we could host the barbecue here? Apparently my dad forgot their barbecue was broken.” He asked you as he put on cologne.

“Did you forget to tell me that too?”

“No, no, I swear she just now texted me about it.” He insisted, slipping on a watch while you put on some jewelry. The two of you maneuvering through the bathroom easily in your morning routine.

“That’s fine if we host, but that just means you’re helping me clean.” You stated.

“When do I not help you clean?” He smiled at you innocently and you narrowed your eyes at him. You both knew exactly how much he helped you clean. In all honesty, he would genuinely help you clean for a solid hour, but it was around hour 2 of cleaning that turned into a dance party for him, which turned into him distracting you from cleaning. “I can always ask if Harry could host it, but then Harrison would be there.”

“Oh no, definitely can’t handle Harrison showing up.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. It was a running joke between the three of you that you and Harrison were competing for Tom’s attention. Harrison was like a brother to you, and there really wasn’t any competition going on, but it was still funny to joke about. “Your mum probably invited him already.”

“She probably did.” He laughed. He shoved off the numerous pillows on his side of the bed, except for the one he actually sleeps on at the head of the bed, “Do we really need that many pillows?”

“They’re comfy!” You insisted, pulling up the bottom sheet on your side as he mirrored your actions across the bed.

“I’m your pillow, you don’t even use them.”

“You’re not wrong, but we’re keeping them.” You smiled while the two of you finished making the bed.

After you two went to the grocery store (and Tom just about dropped most of the groceries while unloading them because he was carrying like ten bags between his two hands since “multiple trips are for the weak, love”), he put away the groceries while you started the laundry. While it wasn’t something his family would actually see when they came later, it’d been piling up for days and you just really needed it to get done.

“What do you want to listen to?” Tom asked as you came back into the kitchen. He sat perched on the kitchen counter with his phone in hand, small bluetooth stereo sitting beside him. Just as you opened your mouth to suggest an artist, he cut you off with a grin, “No One Direction.”

“Shawn Mendes then?” You teased, stepping between his legs.

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Why’d you ask me then, hubby?” You laughed, taking his phone from his hands and stepping away from him.

“Hey, that’s mine!” He jumped off the counter, trying to grab his phone back.

“Too late.” You smiled as the familiar opening to “Steal My Girl” played over the speakers. You queued a few more random songs on his Spotify and handed his phone back over to him, “Now, you’re on vacuum duty.”

“You said ‘duty’.” He giggled like a schoolboy.

“Thomas,” You sighed. 

“You lined that one up for me!” He gave you a quick kiss. You shook your head at your crazy boyfriend as he wandered off to the closet where you kept the vacuum.

“Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away,” Tom shouted along to the chorus from the other room. “Couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause she belongs to me!”

You sang along to the song while you worked on the cake. Once it was in the oven, you started on cutting the array of vegetables for the salad. You weren’t far into the process of washing and cutting the different vegetables before Tom came into the kitchen vacuum in hand.

“Do I get some?” He asked, spying the cucumber you were currently cutting up. He walked over to you, mouth open wide wanting a slice. You gave him a piece of the cucumber and he hummed in content. He cracked open the oven slightly to smell the cake baking in there, “Damn, I should wife you up, you’re great in the kitchen.”

“Uhuh,” You laughed at his comment. While you two called each other wifey/hubby and make “wife me up” jokes, neither of you really were ready for marriage and neither of you felt any pressure to get married. “I left the beaters out for you.”

Tom smiled as he grabbed one of the chocolate covered beaters, licking it like a little kid with a lollipop. The song changed to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” and your boyfriend wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t go breaking my heart,” He started singing into the beater (that had been mostly licked clean by that nice tongue of his), nodding at you encouragingly to keep singing.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” You sang back, unable to hide your smile at his antics.

“Oh honey, if I get restless,”

“Baby, you’re not that kind”

He set the beater aside to take your hands in his, pulling you in to dance with him. Your little impromptu dancing and singing party ended when the song changed and you pulled him back to the reality that was cleaning. While Tom finished vacuuming the house and cleaning the tables outside, you completed the salad and cake and cleaned the kitchen.

“Wanna watch something until my parents show up?” Tom asked you from his spot on the couch in the living room as you began to move the laundry.

“Sure, just fold these.” You said, walking into the living room. He frowned, hoping he was done with household chores. Seeing his reaction, you emptied the laundry basket of clean clothes on him.

“Hey, I’m layin’ here!” He did in his best overdramatic New Yorker impression.

“Fold the laundry, Dustin Hoffman.” You shook your head at him before leaving to finish moving the laundry around. You called back to him from the other room, “When is your family coming?”

“About twenty minutes?” Tom replied, checking his phone quickly to look at the time.

“Did you see if Haz was coming?” You asked, coming back into the room to help him fold the clothes.

“Why? You wanna see Haz that desperately?” He joked.

“Oh obviously. What’s the point of moving in with you if I can’t show off to Haz that I’m winning?” You teased. Tom threw a sock at you, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“Yeah, Harry said he’s coming. We’ve got an even number for football now.” He smiled, ready to play against his brothers.

“I’m so going to kick your ass after what happened last time.” You stated.

“Darling, you know that was an accident.” Tom insisted, still feeling a bit guilty about the incident. Last time you were playing football with him, his brothers, and Harrison, he accidentally kicked the ball in your face while you were even on the same team. Luckily, there was no mark, but Tom was even clingier than usual as he felt incredibly guilty about it. It occurred a month ago and you were ready for payback.

“I’m just teasing.” You smiled, leaning over the pile of laundry to give him a kiss. The two of you worked silently on finishing up folding the clothes until Tom’s eyes landed on your lacy black underwear, cheekily smiling at you while he held it up.

“Your boyfriend must be so lucky to see you in this.”

“Oh those? Didn’t buy ‘em for him.” You teased, taking the underwear from his hands and putting it aside. Tom’s hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you into his lap.

“I’m so lucky to have you. You’re my favorite person.” He said as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Your hands rested at the back of his neck as you leaned in to kiss him. With your fingers scratching the nape of his neck lightly as they played with his hair there and his hands bringing you even more tightly against him, you two started to get caught up in the moment; nothing lustful, just passionate and romantic. You broke the kiss, your nose resting against his as you looked into his eyes, both of you a bit breathless.

You jumped hearing the doorbell ring. His family was here, and that meant the laundry needed to be off the couch and hidden in your room. As Tom went to answer the door, you hurried to move the laundry to your room, quickly folding the last few articles of clothing.

“Smells clean in here, must be Y/N.” Sam teased his older brother as he walked into the house with Tessa at his feet. He held a container of the freshly baked bread while his parents and Paddy came in behind him, bringing in the uncooked main course. Tom rolled his eyes at Sam’s comment, leaning down to give Tessa some well deserved love. You had lived with Tom for almost two years now, and his brothers still loved to poke fun at how organized and well-decorated his house is. Harry and Harrison trailed shortly after them, holding a ball for later and a case of beer as their contribution for the evening. You came out of the bedroom, having put the laundry away enough for now, and greeted your second family.

“Were we interrupting something?” Harrison snickered, spotting the underwear you had accidentally left on the couch.

“It’s laundry day. Get your head out of the gutter.” Tom quickly grabbed the offending undergarment and haphazardly threw it in your room before closing the door.

“Gross.” Harry gagged.

“So no sitting on the couch.” Sam laughed.

“Don’t sit anywhere then if you’re so concerned.” You smacked your boyfriend for his teasing comment that wasn’t completely untrue. Though you loved the Hollands and they loved you, you still weren’t comfortable with the sex jokes in front of his parents, that’s just never a good topic.

“Sam, that bread smells heavenly.” You told him, effectively changing the topic.

“Thank you. I tried a new recipe to make the artichoke dip to go with it.” He explained as you all moved out of the house to the outside table. He set the container of the table and opened it up so you could see (and smell even more) the bread.

You got wrapped up in a conversation with Sam and Nikki as you pet Tessa, who sat happily at your feet. Tom and his dad got the barbecue together while the other three boys started to kick around the ball on the grass.

“Wanna be on my team, wifey?” Tom asked you, walking up behind your chair and resting his head on your shoulder, letting his hands fall to your lap.

“Hell no, I told you I was getting payback.” You replied, making Sam laugh while his older brother pouted.

“Pwease?” He grabbed your hands in his, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Too late, she’s on my team.” Sam piped up, despite the fact that teams hadn’t even been discussed yet.

“We’re stealing your girl.” Harry said, kicking the ball over to Tom. You unwrapped yourself from Tom’s arms to stand up as his pout grew bigger.

“Aw, you’re breaking his heart. Does this mean I’m the favorite now?” Harrison asked with a hopeful smile. 

“Only if we win.” Tom stated, picking up the ball and walking over to the far side of the yard with Harrison and Paddy.

“So that’s a no.” You smiled at Harrison. Tom set the ball between the two teams, in the middle of the two ‘goalposts’ (a.k.a. the cones Tom set up on either side of the yard months ago).

The game began and Harrison was doing his best to block you from getting the ball (and keeping Tom from getting distracted by you). The Hollands were, of course, getting a bit more physical than regular football, kicking each other and shoving a bit, as brothers do. The game was 2-0 with you and the twins winning. When Paddy passed the ball to Harrison, you managed to swipe it from him. You sent it over to Sam and Tom basically slide tackled his brother to get it.

“That’s a foul!” You shouted as Sam landed on the grass with a soft ‘thud’.

“Nope!” Tom exclaimed, kicking the ball through Harry’s legs and into the goal. He cheered with Harrison and Paddy while you helped up Sam, who was fine and used to the physicalness of it all. This time, you started off with the ball and Harrison tried to steal it back, but you were too fast in swiftly kicking it to Harry, who Paddy was trying to block.

“Elbow him!” Tom called out, running about in front of Sam to block him.

“Tom,” Nikki said in a warning tone when he started to push Sam back a bit.

“I need to win!” He replied. Harry passed the ball back to you and you dribbled it down the makeshift field.

“Go away!” Sam shoved his older brother, trying to get him out of the way.

“Fine!” Tom huffed, running over to you. Harrison took it as a sign to go block the open twin.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” You asked your boyfriend as he attempted to kick the ball out from your feet, but your movements were too quick for him. You nutmegged him, sending the ball straight through his legs to Harry. Your perfect pass was defeated by Paddy stealing the ball from him. Before you could move to block him, Tom picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“Go Pads!” He cheered, holding your waist as you kicked your feet in the air.

“Tom, put me down! This is cheating!” You shouted. You felt Tom’s hand shift subtly more to your butt than your hip, making you slap his back. With you caught up with Tom, Paddy scored the goal easily.

“Hey, now, no inappropriate touching in front of the Padster.” Harry teased, seeing his brother’s hand placement.

“Shove off!” Paddy threw the ball over to his curly haired brother.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tom chuckled, setting you down.

“You’re going to regret that.” You told him, before Harry kicked the ball to signal the game was back on. Knowing his distraction would most likely not work again, Tom switched places with Harrison, going back to beating up Sam.

“Food will be done in two minutes.” Dom announced and you all knew that meant this was the speed round. The stakes were high with both teams tied. After a few minutes of Tom basically playing keep away when he finally got the ball, he kicked it over to Paddy. Harry elbowed his brother and sent the ball to you. Not even stopping it to gain control, you kicked it straight at their open goal.

It would’ve gone in and you would’ve won if Tom hadn’t jumped in the way to save it.

“Ah, fuck!” He shouted, grabbing himself while the rest of the boys grimaced and laughed. Even you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his mistake. Seeing an opportunity to make a goal with everyone paused, Sam kicked the ball in and he and Harry cheered- you won.

“Baby, you alright?” You asked, going over to Tom who was still bent over in pain.

“God, you really were going for payback.” He groaned, but nodded that he was okay.

“We won!” Sam and Harry cheered as everyone sat down around the table with Dom serving up the food.

“I’m sorry you got in the way of my glorious kick.” You told Tom, holding his hand in yours.

“Yeah, it was a really good kick.” He winced a little.

Dinner and dessert with the Hollands + Harrison (the honorary Holland) went on without any more injuries (unless you count Harry shoving a piece of cake in Paddy’s face as a joke). Goodbyes went all around as they left later, and Tom did the rest of the dishes while you cleaned outside.

“You feeling better?” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, once you finished outside. He stopped his work at the sink.

“Better. I thought you broke it for a few minutes there.” Tom laughed, washing his hands and drying them before turning around in your arms.

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that.” You teased, “I’d have to go find another dick until it healed.”

“Is that all I am to you? A dick appointment?” He asked with a small laugh, pulling you in closer to him by your waist.

“No, you’re my favorite person in the world.” You smiled at him tenderly as he ran a hand through your hair and rested it on your cheek.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” He leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

The romantic, sweet moment was cut short by his next teasing comment, “You know, that kick was really great. I’m still impressed. You really know your way around balls.”

“Shut up and kiss me, hubby.”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

📽 📼LET’S (NOT) KEEP IT PG PART 3 📼 📽

Prompt: Drew and Y/N are reunited once again

Word count: Long!

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18, fluff (by the end), smut, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69, anal plug, dirty talking, trichophilia (hair kink - pulling), asphyxiation kink (breath play - chocking) in other words: just pure filth😈

Tagging: @jibbles26 , @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic

Notes: Originally this shouldn’t be up until March but you already know me: I have no self respect at all! In a conversation with the lovely Marissa aka MJ, aka @howdareyouhydra. She asked if I could come up with a part 2 and 3 for the original “Let’s (Not) Keep It PG”. Part 1 and 2 are already up (you can read it on my Masterlist) and this is the finale: part 3! I thought to myself: Go big or go home! So here’s the result of it! Also: I tried to keep it “as real as possible” SPECIALLY with the first time anal thing. I just want to put it out there that communication is KEY and HIGHLY important kiddos, so please before doing the dirty business find someone who will truly care about you and your wellbeing! Not only with their own pleasure, ok?!...Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊)You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

❤️Drewy❤️: I’ll be home in 20 minutes

I reread the message Drew sent me once more. Staring to feel the goosebumps all over my skin.

I was patiently waiting for him in the bedroom, dressed in a lavender mini circle skirt; nude underneath it, a white tulle crop top with my breasts bare and some sheer white medium length socks.

I listen to the sounds of Drew’s heavy footsteps upon the dark wooden stairs, that are now leading him to our bedroom.

The door swung open and an impatient Drew, dressed in a black dress shirt and pants comes in my direction.

“Finally!” He grunts, giving me a bear hug while inhaling deeply upon the nape of my neck “Argh, I missed ya so much. I missed your smell, your skin, your lips” He kisses me urgently.

“I missed you too baby, those two months without you were a literal hell” I close my grip tighter around his neck.

“I know, princess” He coos “But we’ll have one whole week to make up for lost time” Smiling he kissed me again

“How’s daddy’s little girl doing?” He whispered

“Lonely, without you,”

“We’ll fix that right away, love” He began to kiss my neck

“Daddy...I have a surprise for you” I smirked when he backed away to look at me

“Surprise?”

I nod “Yeah, while daddy was away I took the time to prepare myself so daddy can claim the one thing he hasn’t claimed yet”

I watch as all the blood from Drew’s face is drained in disbelief

“Did you really?” He breathlessly asked

“Yes, do you wanna see it daddy?” I deviously grinned

Drew just nods, completely speechless as I lean in all fours on top of the bed with my bottom facing him. He scooted closer and lift my skirt slowly up to my hips, moaning a long ‘fuck me’ in a thick accent when his eyes encounter the beautiful dark pink with a flower base, glass butt plug.

“Did you liked my surprise, daddy?” I smiled innocently, looking at him over my shoulder.

“Liked? Oh love, I hope you’re not planning to go somewhere tomorrow ‘cause I’m sure you won’t be able to even get up from the bed!” He caresses my butt cheeks “You’re so perfect, princess. So fucking perfect” He praised “Turn over and lay down for me, love”

Drew unbuttoned his dress shirt, eyes glued to mine. He slowly takes the shirt off, letting it slide through his arms until it reached the floor, followed by his pants and underwear.

He kneels down, dragging me closer to him. The movement made my skirt go up to my waist.

“I missed this sweet pussy” He let a glob of spit fall upon my clit so it would drip down to my entrance. Drew watched until his spit reached the bedsheet, only then leaning in to give me long, teasing licks until he focused on my clit and slid one finger in.

“You managed to get even tighter without daddy, love?” He added a second finger in “I can barely fit two fingers inside of you”

He moves his fingers at a slow pace as he incredibly softly sucks on my clit.

Low moans fell from my lips when he speeds the pace of his fingers and tongue

“Daddy, please” I beg

“What do you want, princess?”

“I want daddy’s cock on my mouth” I babble

Drew slowly removes his fingers, lay down on the bed and motions for me crawl to him.

“Straddle my face, baby” He says panting

As soon as he has his face between my thighs he pulls my core towards his face and I lean down to suck him off.

The bedroom soon filled with our muffled moans of pleasure. I can feel my orgasm reaching close, making me suck Drew even harder. He slides two fingers in, pumped twice and that was enough to make me reach my high. With Drew’s own orgasm followed by, once he feels my walls suck his fingers in.

I swallowed his seed, turning over to meet his blue eyes.

“Come here” He beckons me

I crawl to him, hovering his body. He rapidly pulled me up, so he could kiss me vigorously.

“Think you can take another round right now? ‘Cause I want that pussy AND that ass” He nibs my jaw

“I’ve been waiting two months for that. Ruin me, daddy” I smirked

“Oh princess, you should’ve chose wiser words” He laughs, entering my core in one swift motion and wasting no time to pound me roughly.

“Oh fuck” I moaned. The way the butt plug pushed my walls further to the front, made the whole pounding feel like it never felt before. The whole sensation was like being doubled penetrated.

Drew close his fingers around my neck, pressing it lightly as he kisses me, tossing his free arm around my waist to keep me in place.

“Did you missed daddy’s cock, princess?”

I nod lightly

He releases his grip on my neck to only keep my head in place by locking his thick fingers on top of my head, firmly gripping my hair.

“Did you missed the way how daddy’s cock stretches your pussy, love?”

I nod again

“I bet your vibrator can’t do that, can it?”

“No, daddy. Only you can” I whispered

“Argh” He growls and pounds me even harder “I love how your pussy feels around my cock baby” He pulls me down by my hair so his lips can whisper in my ear every kind of obscenity you can think off: how good I felt, how his cock missed me, how he couldn’t wait to fuck my ass...With every filthy word his accent grew thicker and thicker. Drew always knew that dirty talking was my weakness and also the fastest way to make me cum.

It didn’t take long for me to reach my second orgasm, he continued to pound me but this time it was softer, making the orgasm last longer.

Drew caresses my cheeks, whispering

“Are you ok?”

*Always so thoughtful* I thought

“I’ll be better once you fuck me in the ass” I giggled and he laughs

“There’s nothing that I want more right now than to fuck your ass, baby. But I don’t want to push ya too far...I don’t wanna hurt ya” He brushes my hair with his fingers

“Drew” I caress his beard “I love how much you care about my wellbeing, but trust me, tiger: You won’t hurt me and I’m still really turned on, so would you please, kindly, fuck me?” I bat my lashes

“You’re gonna kill me someday, woman” He grunts, carefully sliding out of me

“Where’s the lube?” He asks in a raspy voice

“Nightstand”

He got up from the bed and took the plastic bottle on his hand, leaning down to kiss me softly

“I love you Y/N”

“I love you too, Drewy”

He smiles fondly “Turn around, princess”

Drew squirted some of the lube on his length, carefully took out the glass plug and squirted more lube upon my hole, inserting one finger in and out

“Are you ready, love?”

“Drew, stop teasing me” I yelped

“So eager, aren’t you?” He laughs, positioning his cock’s head upon my hole, carefully entering me.

The feeling was...new, the fact that I took my time to prepare myself with the plugs undoubtedly helped, a lot! He entered easier than if I didn’t had, but at the same time Drew is thicker and bigger than the butt plug so the pressure was different. Not hurtful, just new. He was half way in when he stop it.

“Are you ok, baby?” He asks, drawing soothing circles with his palm on my back

“Yeah, it’s just different”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different...weird” I laughed lightly

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No”

“Y/N, love. Talk to me, I need to know how you’re feeling” Worry surrounding his voice

“It doesn’t hurt or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just that you’re bigger AND thicker than the plug, so it’s a new feeling that’s all. But not bad, you’ve got the green light Scotsman” I joke

“Ok” He chuckled “But if at anytime you feel like you wanna stop, you let me know ok?”

I nod

“I’m serious Y/N, at ANYTIME”

“Noted!” I mock him and gained a hard slap on my ass

Drew slowly moved until he was buried deep inside.

“Motherfucker” He faintly moaned and stayed still for what it felt like ages

“Drew, are you ok back there?” I mock “Aren’t you gonna move?” I ask

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second” His voice breathless “I need to focus, because you feel too fucking good and I will be damned if I cum just now! So I just needed to breathe” He says and slowly started to move.

The once weird feeling became extremely erotic when he started to move. It was still different, but incredibly good.

“Daddy” I call

And look behind my shoulder to see Drew’s eyes glued to the sight of his cock going in and out of my ass and I could swear, I saw some drool escaping his lips. I’ve never seen him so turned on before and the vision woke up a primal part in me.

“Daddy” I call again, but this time louder

He awakens from his lust haze and stopped moving

“What’s wrong princess? Do ya want daddy to stop?”

“No” I whined “I want daddy to go faster”

“Faster? Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please daddy” My eyes pleaded to him

Drew circled one arm around my waist, pulling me up and out of my in all fours position so I could be kneeling down on the bed and started to increase his pace.

One arm around my waist, another vigorously gripping my hip and a fast pounding got me moaning loudly.

He started to bite my cheek, neck and jaw line, making me lift my arm up so I could bury my fingers on his dark hair, keeping his face glued to mine.

Drew releases his grip upon my hips to roam down and rub my clit.

“In, put it in, please” I babble incoherently but he (thankfully) understood

Entering my core with two fingers and roughly finger fucking me.

It was all too much and too good. His cock inside my hole, his fingers in my core, the biting, the moaning...it was all so dirty and lustful.

“I’m gonna need you to cum princess, Right now!” He mumbled

With two more thrusts I came the most eye rolling orgasm I’ve ever had in my life! I was coming down from my high, when I felt Drew pulling out and the hot spurts of his thick seed landing on my butt cheeks.

I collapse onto the bed, with Drew landing by my side a few seconds later, after cleaning us up.

“That was...beyond this world” I mumbled with my face pressed against the mattress

He laughed loudly before saying

“YOU are beyond this world!” He pulls me towards him like a rag doll, turning me over so I could lay on my back “Are you ok?”

“Drew, I’m fine! More than fine” I giggled

“Are you sure I wasn’t too rough?”

I lightly touch the frown between his eyebrows “You’re never too rough, you’re a perfect gentleman every single time” I pecked his lips

He shyly smiles, slightly blushing

“Thank you for the surprise. I really, really loved” He said and stared at me for a few minutes

“What?” I ask, feeling incredibly exposed due to his intense staring

“You’re so beautiful, on the outside undoubtedly! But on the inside as well. Just so beautiful...I can’t imagine my life without you” His voice is in pure awe

I never knew how to react whenever he said those sort of sweet and deep words to me, Drew was always the romantic one: expressing himself, talking about his feelings and wishes. Me? I was the complete opposite: shut down, didn’t like to show that many emotions, didn’t knew how to express my feelings. I was ‘the ice queen’ as he used to tease me ever since we’ve met. It took me precisely 2 YEARS to take the courage to finally say that I loved him, when he was able to do it after 2 months!

I didn’t knew how to reply to his beautiful, kind, loving words so I decided to deal with it, my way: Break the uncomfortableness with a joke

“Does that means my Voodoo dolls have worked then?” I narrowed my eyes “You got no choice but to stay with me forever, McIntyre” I chanted as if it was a spell

He laughs like a child, cups my cheeks and says

“I do have a choice, love! And I choose you, everyday! Today, tomorrow and forever! My one only gal” He winks and I blushed

Already thinking what other joke could I crack in order to break the spell he casted on me now...

Please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedback is always appreciated 🥰😘

[pulaasul]

CARAT Magazine

Juru's classmates connect the boy who's in a magazine that was photographed with A-list celebrities to him. Will he be exposed or not?

A/N: So I just found out that the Kiramagers are supposed to be models for CARAT, the organization supporting the Kiramagers, on top of their various jobs: Sayo as a doctor, Tametomo as a gamer, Sena as an athlete, and Shiguru as an actor.

I guess it's how they keep the fact that they were the Kiramagers a secret when they literally wear CARAT uniforms that also corresponds to their suit's color.

But it made for a good prompt.

This is also inspired by one of @narashikari​ @asknarashikari​ ‘s asks.

FFN I Ao3

--------

"What the Fu-!" Someone in Juru's class swore.

"Right?!" Another one asked. "I don't know how we all missed that."

"Maybe that's why Kakihara's attitude towards him changed," Another one offered. "She discovered him in here and kept it a secret from everyone."

"No wonder he's been spotted by some of the very famous celebrities Japan has ever known," The person who swore pouted. "They literally knew each other because of this."

"And we all thought it was some doppelganger."

"Wha-" Juru couldn't help but ask in confusion at the scene that greeted him.

"Oh look, who it is!" The second person announced. "It's Atsuta Juru-san, the one person who's been mooching off of celebrities."

"Mooching off, what?"

"They meant this," Kakihara appeared behind Juru and gave him a magazine. "It's last year's summer issue."

Juru accepted the magazine only to wince at the poster spread everyone was talking about.

It was a poster featuring a photograph of the Kiramagers in various summer clothing. Shiguru was sitting by the pool, wearing an open blue shirt and sunglasses, looking at the silver ring that adorned his finger.

Tametomo was sitting at the lounge chair wearing only yellow shorts with his right foot, adorned with an anklet, propped up while holding a portable game console.

Takamichi was by the bar, adorned with sunglasses on his head and a silver necklace against his bare torso.

Sayo was also by the bar wearing a modest pink button-up shirt drinking some juice while wearing a pair of golden earrings that dangled elegantly.

Sena was in the pool, wearing a green swimsuit, holding out a golden necklace.

Juru was also by the pool with outstretched hands, poised to receive the necklace from Sena. He was wearing a simple open loose red shirt and peach pants with his bracelets hanging on his outstretched hand.

"Care to explain that, Atsuta?" The person who cussed raised an eyebrow. "You've been appearing in CARAT magazines for almost a year."

"We've always thought that he was some doppelganger when we pass by pages that featured you." Another student added.

Juru can't deny that the comment stung a bit.

It is kind of his fault for people thinking that way with how engrossed he is with his drawings whenever inspiration struck.

It still doesn't change the fact that the assumption that the one with his teammates was just some doppelganger sting.

However, he can't just divulge the fact that he was a Kiramager or everyone else for that matter.

"Atsuta was found on site where they were on a shoot," Kakihara swooped in, to his rescue. "It was when they were first assembled too."

"The photographer can't seem to find a perfect balance with them," Juru decided to ride with Kakihara's story. "I was just drawing, minding my own business when one of the photographer's assistants saw my drawing and suggested the models to imitate the poses of what I drew."

"Eh?" A few of his classmates tilted their heads in disbelief. "Why wasn't your name credited on that shoot then?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Kakihara raised an eyebrow. "They hired Juru to become a concept artist for their shoots, which eventually ended with him being in the shoot with four of the most famous celebrities in Japan."

"Makes sense," A male classmate, not too far away from the gathered group, nodded. "Atsuta-san's art style isn't my cup of tea, but it's undeniable that he's a very good artist."

"Kitagawa, you're praising Atsuta?"

"Credit, where credit is due," The boy shrugged. "Like I said, I, personally, don't like his art style, I prefer hyper-realistic artworks, but others may see his art as a shining example of art."

"Still, it's surprising that Atsuta isn't named in the magazines despite appearing in it several times, in multiple pages no less."

"I actually requested that," Juru explained sheepishly.

"Eeeeh?!" This time it was Kakihara who reacted. "Why?!" She demanded.

"I didn't want to be mobbed by everyone else's fans whenever I'm with them," Juru answered honestly. "Think about it, Ohira-san and Hayami-san can be classified as idols. I'd get mobbed by their fans if they knew a nobody like me is interacting with them on a daily basis."

A few of the girls winced at the reason.

"Not to mention, Imizu-san's and Oshikiri-san's fanbase," Juru shivered, remembering Shiguru's stalker. "Some of which are fujoshis and stalkers."

This time, it was the boys' turn to wince at the explanation.

"I did not consider that," Kakihara admitted. "I always thought you were too humble for your own good."

"I'm not naïve Kakihara-san." Juru pouted.

"I'll be the judge of that," Kakihara raised an eyebrow. "Once you're able to stop drawing in the face of danger and escape with your life, only then I will say you're not naïve."

"Mou, Kakihara-san!"

The bell rang.

Everyone went to their seats and waited for their teacher to start their classes.

[amayawolfe]

The adult trio

6, 8, 17

I dont have much of an idea of a story but for #8 i think they have a little couple argument about what to eat for dinner while in a serious battle against multiple enemies.

Anyways just have fun with it i just found these lines funny idk why 😅 ℓσνє уσυя ωяιтιиg втω 💕

Requested by: kalinie-02

Prompt Sentence: (will appear in bold)

#6. “I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten.”

#8. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

#17. “Why, exactly, do you need chloroform at 2am?”

Alrighty! Request complete! Had to think of this one for a bit as fight scenes can be tricky. I ended up dulling down the violence a bit, but I hope you like what I did over all. ^_^ Thanks once again for participating in the event!

WARNING: mild violence, mild descriptions of blood and bodies, murder

~ ~ ~ 

  Illumi let out an irritated sigh and wiped sweat and blood off his face and onto his shoulder.

  What a mess. . . he thought while he surveyed the massacre before him. Corpses in a variety of morbid states were scattered across the building floors. A thick layer of blood coated the concrete floor; filling the air with the wet, heavy scent of iron. 

  The assassin glanced over at one of his partners and saw him finishing off yet another mafia goon with a swift and precise stroke of his Ben’s knife. In the opposite hand of the knife, Chrollo held open his book of nen skills. This allowed the ghostly nen fish to float around the room, aiding in the dispense of mafia goons to their appetite’s leisure.

  As if he sensed the gaze of the younger, long haired man, Chrollo straightened and met Illumi’s gaze. The nen specialist looked just as tired and done with this job as the manipulator. A loud ruckus drew the attention of both men to the opposite end of the large room.

  There, the third member of the lovers’ trio was seemingly surrounded by a group of four goons. However, the tall red haired man did not look concerned. In fact, he sported a wide, mischievous grin that would look eerily demonic to many.  

  Touching a bloody card to his full lips, the magician said something in audible to the assassin and specialist. The four ment hesitated in their advance, then took a step back. Simultaneously all four men turned and started to flee. Their attempt of escape was futile, as Hisoka only let them run just long enough to achieve a glimmer of hope before he cut them down with a nen infused card to the back of each one's head.

  “He really does enjoy toying with his prey, doesn’t he?” Chrollo questioned casually. Even though it was most likely a rhetorical question, Illumi nodded silently.

   After collecting his cards from his fallen victims, Hisoka sauntered up to his partners with a grin much like that of a very self pleased cat or fox. When he reached them, the magician stopped and surveyed the massacre littered about the warehouse.

  “Well,~” he started in his smooth, sensual tone, “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.~ ♡”

Illumi wrinkled his nose at the eldest of the three, “What part of this mission went well, exactly?” The assassin was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his job. He preferred things to be done quickly and neatly; neither of which happened this night.

  “Why, everything, of course.~ ♢” Hisoka’s eyes gleamed with excitement and his grin spread impossibly wider. “The screams, the chaos, the beautiful showers of crimson droplets. Even the fights were entertaining, despite the fact none of them were very powerful. ♢ I’m so glad to go outside the plan, otherwise it would have been so boring. ♠”

  An annoyed look now spread across Chrollo’s face, matching Illumi. He snapped his book of skills shut. Both the pair of nen fish and book instantly faded away with barely a whisper of sound.

  “I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten,” the spider boss stated flatly.

  Hisoka’s grin turned into a playful pout. “Oh, so cruel, Luci. ♠” He stuck out his lower lip and gave Chrollo a look of something akin to a scolded puppy.

  “Chrollo is right,” Illumi added, “had you stuck with the plan, we would have been able to grab dinner before heading home. I highly doubt there is anything remotely good open at this late hour.” 

  “Ah, I see, poor Illu is getting hangry, ♠” the magician teased. The assassin did, in fact, tend to get pretty cranky whenever he became too hungry.

  “Actually, I know a few all nighter diners that are pretty decent.” Chrollo approached Illumi and lightly rested a hand on the small of the assassin's back. He peered deep into Illu's dark eyes and gave him a warm, comforting smile. “We can clean up and get something to eat from a diner of your choice before we head home.”

  Illumi smiled ever so faintly and opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Hisoka who was obviously wanting the attention back on himself.

  “Excellent!~ ♡” he said a little too loudly. “And when we got home, maybe we can have a little fun time before bed, hmmm?~ ♡ I don’t know about you, but all this has gotten me quite excited.~ ♢”

  Before the other two could respond, the magician gracefully spun around and headed for the exit. His heels alternated between sharp clicks and wet splats as he walked through the puddles of blood.

  The corner of one of Chrollo’s eyes twitched as he watched the madman walk away.

“Illumi, did we restock on the chloroform? Last I knew the bottle under the bathroom sink was out.” It was the tone Chrollo used that drew the assassin to look at the spider boss and raise an eyebrow. He sounded more than just a little annoyed with their red-headed partner.

  “Yes…” Illumi answered carefully, “I made sure to restock it last week. But, why, exactly, do you need chloroform at 2am?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am in no mood to put up with Hisoka’s frisky antics tonight. So, I feel it would be more in our best interest if he just, oh, I dunno, ‘fell asleep’.” Chrollo met Illumi’s gaze with a small, lopsided and mischievous grin. 

  The long haired man let out a light, breathy chuckle. “Yes, I do believe we would get a better and much needed rest if that were to happen.”

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight  - Chapter 15: Hiccup

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4300

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Almost four weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: And we’re back! Since it’s been ages... Previously on Fight or Flight - Hana had learned that Barthelemy and Godfrey were working with Auvernal from Kiara, but Liam didn’t seem motivated to take much action regarding that fact. Leo had gotten money and belongings to Riley, who shared an intimate moment with Drake when she returned to their hotel.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Liam let out a sigh as he changed the channel back to CBC. He needed to be actively watching, probably should be taking notes, in all honesty. This hour of programming consisted of discussion with three of the most connected political pundits in the country. It was the easiest and most reliable way to get a feel for the leanings of both the journalists and the common citizens, and it aired every weekday, so it was far more up to date than waiting for the biweekly polling.

The issue was that the panelists were revelling in the recent turn of events with such glee. It was understandable, he supposed. This was the most exciting political turn of events this country had seen in centuries. It put the mild speculation that he was Bridget’s biological father, a rumor had surfaced around the time of his announcement that Drake and Riley’s child would be heir and had briefly flared again at Bridget’s first public appearance when people had seen that she indeed looked like a child with some East Asian heritage, to shame. This wasn’t just baseless gossip and stirring the pot to increase ratings. This was true turmoil, plain and simple. There was a relative unknown carrying the power of the Crown, the current Queen-regent had been “kidnapped” and not seen in weeks, citizens were protesting daily, and this was all expected to last for months until the Conclave, where all the tension and drama would culminate in a vote among the five major noble houses to name a new monarch. The journalists and talking heads had a seemingly endless feast in front of them. All of it at his expense.

He took another sip of his scotch as he tried to focus on the screen ahead of him. If he could figure out how to gain a majority of the public’s support, then he could apply some pressure to Kiara and Landon prior to the Conclave vote. Not that he was naive enough to think that would be enough to assure that he would regain his title, but at least it would be one more piece of ammunition in his arsenal.

“The protests outside of the Capital aren’t going to be as easily quieted as the ones in Valtoria, Victor,” Francine Giorano stated, leaning forward and gesturing across the table to Victor Blussé. Blussé was the moderate on the panel, while Giorano was a staunch traditionalist. “They have had fears about the role the essentially-American Walkers played in our government for years, and look how right those fears turned out to be.”

“How is any of this the Walkers’ fault, Francine? This can all be traced to Barthelemy Beaumont!”

“The Conventus Nobilis was written into our foundational laws for a reason, Victor,” chimed in Willa Hyllop, the final member of the panel, added to the program in the past year to bring in a more modern, pro-democratic viewpoint.

“Surely you aren’t saying you are on the side of Beaumont, Willa! He represents an even less progressive faction than Liam Rys ever did.”

“I may not agree with everything he stands for, but I will always support measures that place some checks and accountability on our monarchy,” said Hyllop with a shrug. “Besides, the fact that Rys surrounded himself with yes-men and granted titles and appointments on the basis of friendship since he ascended the throne did little to convince me that he was the ‘progressive king’ he swore he was. He was more of the same, just without the aggressive rhetoric of his father.”

“And look how that turned out! Lest we forget, he stood by while Auvernal brought warships to our shore last year,” added Giorano.

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Giorano and Hyllop were never on the same page about anything, and here they were, agreeing that he had been an ineffectual king. He tuned out Blussé’s response, knowing that some lukewarm rebuttal from him was going to do little to bolster his confidence. The fact was simple - his fall from grace was widespread. There were few left who saw him as worthy of the title of king. He had failed, completely and entirely.

 “Liam?” Olivia’s voice cut over the television. 

Liam opened his eyes to find her staring at him from the lounge’s doorway, a frown cutting across her face. He forced a smile as he gestured for her to join him. “Just taking a little break from hearing how incompetent I am.”

Olivia’s green eyes narrowed at his poor attempt at humor, but she strode over to him, joining him on the couch, undoubtedly taking in the blank notepad, the untouched stacks of documents, and the glass of liquor that sat on the table in front of him. “Well, that’s the perception we’re going to have to work to change.”

He tipped his head to rest along the back of the couch, sighing as he did so. “I know, Liv. It just seems so impossible at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for several excruciating seconds. He rolled his head to the side, taking in her face, concerned eyes boring into him as she slid a hand around her neck, her blood-red nails digging into her skin. “We’ve got months still, Liam. Calling our goal impossible is premature.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, and I’m all ears if you have any recommendations for where to start.”

“Well, I got confirmation that Landon and Emmeline’s driver is loyal to us, so Ray is going to approach him at the Derby this weekend to see if he might be willing to earn a little extra cash by divulging some secrets. And their new head of kitchen has a brother with significant gambling debts, so that’s another lead worth pursuing.”

“Sounds good, Olivia.”

“Now, as far as next steps for you, I was hoping you might give reporters a few minutes for questions before the derby.”

Liam swallowed, his brain scrambling to come up with a reason, any reason, against her suggestion, when his phone vibrated on the table, the name “Bastien” flashing across the screen.

“Why is he calling you?” Olivia asked. All Liam could do was shrug as he leaned forward, grabbing his phone and swiping to accept the call.

“Bastien?”

“I don’t have long,” he started, not even taking the time for a greeting. “I don’t know if you are in touch with Drake, but if you are, you need to let him know that they need to get out of Athens.”

“What are you-”

“Rashad is negotiating with Greek authorities right now to allow the King’s Guard to be the ones to make the arrest. We are waiting on the tarmac for clearance to fly to Athens.”

“How-”

“He’s requesting Greek surveillance of their hotel until we get there. They need to leave now.”

“Bastien, what-”

“I have to go.” And then, the line was dead.

Liam sat there, numb and frozen, trying to process the slew of information that had just been dumped into his lap by his former head of security. 

“What the hell is going on?” Olivia’s voice drew him out of his daze, prompting him to set down his phone on the couch, digging frantically through the stacks of papers.

“I need my burner.” He heard his voice as if he were an outsider observer. It was thin and shaky, frail and panicked. His hands shook as he felt around the table in front of him, knocking over a pile containing reproductions of the accounts of the last Conclave, dozens of papers spilling onto the floor.

“Liam, what the fuck did he tell you?”

“They know where they are. We have to warn them.” All his frustrations and pain related to Drake and Riley suddenly felt so petty, so ridiculous. The stakes were higher for them, always had been higher for them. They were about to get arrested over wanting to keep custody of their daughter. And while they left him to fend for himself, left Cordonia in a state of political upheaval, he knew that was a price that was wildly unfair.

“Who knows where they are? Rashad?”

“Yes,” said Liam, shoving more and more documents around the table. Where was his burner?

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know! Where the fuck is it?” Liam swiped his arm across the table, books and papers flying, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the room as his scotch tumbled to the ground.

A strong set of fingers with sharp red nails slid around his wrist, holding him still. He took a rough breath as he turned to face Olivia, who was eyeing him as she tugged her own burner out of her pocket, only breaking his gaze to glance down at the screen, tapping three times before holding it to her ear and looking back at Liam.

The few seconds of silence on her end were maddening, but then she was speaking, her voice curt and all business. “Drake, authorities are coming. You gotta go. Now.”

Liam tried to rein in his rapid breathing, tried to calm his heart rate down to something more human. “The King’s Guard is flying into Athens. They are leaving now. Rashad asked for Greek surveillance until-” but Olivia nodded at him, cutting him off.

“I don’t know how. But your hotel is about to be under Greek surveillance until the King’s Guard arrives, so you guys have to get moving. Good luck.” She hung up at that, letting out a massive sigh. “Shit,” she breathed out after a few seconds, her eyes bouncing back and forth before she slammed them shut, clearly planning and preparing.

Liam felt her fingers trembling around his wrist for just a second, but then she let go. She pushed herself off the couch with a flourish. “Find your burner. I’m gonna make some calls, but we need to destroy any evidence that we were in contact with them,” she said, nearly jogging towards the door.

“Olivia…”

She spun around and let out a little breath before walking back towards the couch. Her hand settled on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze as she gave him a nod. “We warned them as soon as we could, but we need to be the ones worried about the big picture right now. And things will only be worse for them if you and I are arrested, right?”

All he could do was nod. She was 100 percent correct.

“Okay, so find your burner. I’ll be back in a little bit, Liam.” And with that, she was off, a woman on a mission, leaving him sitting there, shaking on the couch, just trying to find his footing.

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

Hana shook hands with the final citizen, a woman in her late 40s who had been born and raised in Valtoria.

“Thank you so much, Your Grace,” she said, smiling as she returned the handshake.

“Of course. Just because our country is going through a period of transition doesn’t mean that I am going to ignore the needs of Valtoria’s citizens.”

The woman thanked her again before turning and exiting the formal dining room, the location Hana had chosen for the first Citizen Open Forum she’d scheduled. The large table provided ample seating, but the room was close enough to the main entrance to make it unlikely that anyone could wander into private areas of the estate without being caught by staff. 

Olivia had been irritated when Hana had told her she was opening up the estate to the public. “You are giving Barthelemy’s people free access,” she told her. But Hana knew that she couldn’t just sidestep her duties as a duchess. Not only would that weaken people’s perception of Liam by association, but morally she just couldn’t do that. The country was in such turmoil because of a few members of the nobility trying to wrest power from some other nobles. For her citizens to be left neglected due to the whims of the highly privileged was ethically something she couldn’t allow to happen. So she’d hosted the forum, hearing directly from Valtoria’s residents what she should prioritize to improve their lives, but made sure to instruct her staff to notify her immediately if anyone was caught wandering too far from the dining room or bathroom. It was the best she felt she could do under the circumstances.

However, the last citizen had now vacated the estate, and Hana couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. It had gone well, she thought. She had clear budgetary priorities to request at the upcoming meeting between the social season’s derby and the stop in Lythikos. Plus, one of the leaders of the protesters in front of the estate had come, and conversation with him had been productive. Obviously, she couldn’t outright tell him that she wished she could be right out there with them, carrying a sign that said “She’s their kid,” but he had given her a knowing smile when she told him she saw no reason to intervene when Cordonia citizens were just exercising a right to free speech. He had all but promised her that the protests would stay peaceful and would not target her for her assumption of the role of Duchess of Valtoria.

As she wandered into the kitchen to make herself some tea, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She turned on the tap to fill the kettle with one hand as she moved to answer the call with the other.

“Olivia, how are you?” she asked, watching the kettle fill.

“Do you not answer your phone anymore?”

Hana frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear and swiping the screen. “I don’t have any missed calls, Olivia.”

“Not this phone. I’ve called you no less than ten times.”

She turned off the tap and set the full kettle on the counter, a nagging thread of anxiety and fear worming its way into her heart with that statement. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news.”

Hana spun around, finding the remote laying on the island and turning on the television mounted in the eat-in nook.

“-these exclusively obtained photos show a woman who appears to be the former duchess, Riley Walker, conversing with the former Crown Prince, Leo Rys, at a bar in Athens.”

The screen filled with a low-quality image, clearly zoomed in several times. The lighting was a sort of orange color, and the faces were grainy and fuzzy, but there was Riley, although her hair was clearly dyed a much lighter color. Leo’s face was only seen in profile, not as identifiable, but he was obviously talking to her. The screen changed to a new photo, Leo a bit more recognizable in this one, passing Riley something.

“Oh no,” said Hana, leaning against the counter.

“-clear evidence of collusion between the former Crown Prince and Riley Walker, who has been charged with treason and kidnapping of the monarch,” the anchor droned on, but Olivia’s response drowned out the quiet volume of the television.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement. So what was so pressing that you were ignoring your burner?”

“I had the forum with the citizens, and I thought if I was carrying two cell phones, that might-”

A massive groan from Olivia cut her off. “Whatever. Well, you need to destroy your burner. Now.”

“But what about Riley and-”

“I warned them. Hopefully they are able to get out of Athens, but nothing else we can do there. It’s time to protect ourselves.”

“Olivia, what-”

“I gotta go check on Liam. Destroy the phone, Hana. And don’t call me.”

“Why can’t I-”

“-Liam is definitely going to be questioned since Leo is now known to be involved. We can talk at the derby, but if they start monitoring our phone records, I don’t want to give them any reason to think we are scheming.”

Before Hana could as much as tell Olivia she understood, she heard the line click dead. Taking a few seconds for some calming breaths, she centered herself before she climbed the stairs to her quarters, a pit of dread cementing itself firmly in her stomach with each step. She reached her room and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling the burner phone out from underneath her nylons. Sure enough, she had dozens of missed notifications from Olivia, and a couple from Maxwell as well. Well, she knew what those were regarding. No need to deal with them at this point. Instead, she walked over to her dressing table and grabbed her manicure kit.

She wandered down the hallway towards the lounge, taking in the quiet and calm. It was odd; the estate probably had more people in it currently than it had for most of the time Riley and Drake had lived there. Hana didn’t feel compelled to aggressively minimize the staff presence like they had, far more used to having employees around from her upbringing. But staff were expected to be as discreet and silent as possible, to make themselves scarce, particularly in the private quarters. 

No one had ever called Riley quiet. There was a certain vibrancy she brought to any room, and her voice and laughter were always echoing through the halls. And even though Drake wasn’t the most talkative, he certainly would quip, snark, and joke in the privacy of his own home. Of course, once Bridget was born, there was more noise and energy and life than ever before. Now, it was just Hana and the corgis. The estate felt hollow and soulless.

Once in the lounge, Hana shut the door behind her firmly. Anderson glanced up, but quickly draped his head back over Vera, all the dogs curled up on their giant cushion in the corner. Hana knew that the maids had cleaned the lounge yesterday, so she was unlikely to be found there. She sat down in one of the armchairs, and pried the cover off the back of her phone using her cuticle pusher. All the electronic components stared up at her, ready for her to do her worst. But before she could bring herself to kill the only connection she had to her best friend, she flipped the phone over and sent one last message to Riley.

I love you all. Stay safe. I’ll find a way to get in touch when I can.

Letting out a sigh, she turned the phone back over. She spent the next 15 minutes prying off motherboards and any chips and cards she could find, dropping them one by one into her container of acetone nail polish remover. Then, she removed the battery before placing the remaining elements into the fireplace. She would just have to store the battery under her floorboards until she could figure out how to safely dispose of it. 

She started a fire, then curled up on the couch, tugging a quilt over her lap as she watched her only connection to the first person to show her unconditional love melt and warp, eventually turning to ash. Tears started trailing down her cheeks, dripping onto her blouse and the quilt, but she didn’t care. She was devastated - for herself, for her found family, and for her country. At some point, Anderson jumped up to join her, nestling in against her legs.

“I miss them so much,” she said, dropping a hand to the top of his head. “So, so much.”

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

Bridget was wailing in her crib, but Riley didn’t have time to calm her. She needed to pack. Now.

When Drake had called her, she knew something bad was happening. He’d left with their passports this afternoon to take them to a cousin of a friend of someone Drake had met at the restaurant, someone who was supposed to be able to help with fake documents and forgeries. The plan had been to change their names and their country of origin, allowing them to catch a flight to the States without getting stopped at the airport. The final destination once there hadn’t been decided. Drake had wanted to go to Texas, but Leona’s presence scared Riley. She had already sold out their safety for a quick payday once before.

But that debate was a moot point now. So was the uncertainty about this unknown forger on whom they were relying. Drake had called, frantic and alarmed, clearly running and somewhat out of breath as he spoke to her. Telling her Olivia had called to warn them they were about to be arrested. Telling her to pack. Telling her they needed to run.

So Bridget was unceremoniously dumped into her travel crib as Riley tried to shove everything into the duffel bags from Leo. She knew she should leave the impractical things, like the framed photos, but those would incriminate their friends. So they had to come with. Toiletries seemed essential, too. Some of the clothes were going to have to get left behind. Some of the toys as well. She had to be able to carry everything in one trip. She had to get to the car as quickly as possible. 

She knew it had probably been less than five minutes since Drake had called, but it felt like she was moving too slowly, taking way too long. Drake hadn’t given her any sort of time frame. Who knew if Olivia had even given him one. But for all she knew, police were rounding the corner, waiting for her in the hallway, about to burst through the hotel door. So she shoved and crammed and squeezed everything she could into the duffel bags and the diaper bag. Those would go over her shoulders, the crib would collapse and go in one arm, Bridget in the other. That would have to be good enough. 

Once she was sure that the bags were as full as they could be, she pulled Bridget out, placing her on the floor as she scrambled to collapse the crib, fumbling with the locking mechanism for just a few seconds before it folded in on itself, allowing her to tuck it into her elbow. By some mad miracle, Bridget was hanging close by, not trying to crawl away to explore and cause trouble. Maybe she was frightened by the way Riley was acting. Regardless, it was a blessing.

Knowing she was as ready as she was going to be, she loaded everything up and grabbed Bridget, pausing just briefly to juggle their possessions as she opened the door. She didn’t bother closing it behind her, just moved as quickly as she could with her load down the hallway, down the stairs, through the lobby, and around the corner to the street where their car was parked. No one tried to stop her or talk to her, so she took the time to toss everything on the ground and properly latch Bridget into her car seat. Then, she threw everything in the hatchback before climbing into the passenger’s seat and locking the doors behind her. Bridget continued to cry, but there was little Riley could do to comfort her at this point. All that was left to do was wait for Drake.

Drake had told her to meet him in the car, but she didn’t like feeling exposed, sitting where anyone could see her during broad daylight. Add to that the fact that she was in the passenger seat, so she wouldn’t even be able to make a quick getaway if need be. Her piss-poor driving skills were just one more area where she was making their life harder, but there was no way to fix that right now. All she could do was hang tight. She was contemplating what in the car she could use as a weapon if it came down to it when her phone buzzed. She swiped to answer instantly when she saw it was Drake’s number.

“Drake, where are you?”

“Around the corner from the hotel. You in the car?”

“Yeah. How did-” but before she could get her question out, she saw Drake through the driver’s side window. She let out a little yelp of surprise before reaching over and unlocking the door, handing him the keys as soon as he sat down. 

He didn’t even bother to say anything, just started the car and eased off the clutch as he shifted into first gear, pulling out onto the road. Bridget quieted soon after they got moving, but Riley didn’t feel any better as the yelling and screaming subsided. She just stared at Drake, one hand braced on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, his neck and shoulders so tense and coiled, he looked ready to burst.

“Where are we going?” she finally chanced asking.

Drake shook his head, never taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t know. Out of Athens.”

“Then why are we making so many turns?”

“Don’t know if we were being watched or followed. Gotta lose anyone who might be tailing us.” His voice was clipped and frayed. He sounded about five seconds away from losing it completely. Riley wanted to hold his hand, to comfort him in some way. But she didn’t want to distract him, both from driving and from the tiny amount of control he had over his emotional response to everything that was unfolding. After all, they weren’t safe yet. So she just nodded and grabbed her phone off her lap.

“I’ll pull up some maps, okay?”

He nodded and let out a rough breath at that. “Thanks, Walker,” he said before flipping on the radio. “Can you try and find us a news station?”

“Drake, I won’t-”

“I’ll translate.”

And so they were off, unsure where or how far they needed to go to be safe. All they could do at this point was keep moving forward.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl​ @octobereighth​ @kimmiedoo5​ @mom2000aggie​

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @mskaneko​ @axwalker​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @kingliam2019​ @sirbeepsalot​ @texaskitten30 @princessleac1​ @ladyangel70​ @debramcg1106​ @masterofbluff​  

Drake/MC:  @no-one-u-know   @iplaydrake​

FoF: @burnsoslow​ @bobasheebaby​

[aimeelouart]

How about cursed cloud ending up in a universe where his and Sephiroth's roles were reversed?

The Calamity’s Cursed Child - 1789 words, ASGZC, dimension-hopping, may have a part two later

(Why do all my prompts go off the rails from what I expected? Whatever. I hope you enjoy it anyway!)

--

When Cloud first started bouncing between dimensions, he spent no more than a few minutes in each new world before being sent to the next. Then, slowly, the time between jumps started to stretch. First five minutes, then ten, then thirty, then an hour, then several hours. It was a mixed blessing at best. If he was in a good world, or at least a world that lacked the power to subdue him, then he had a chance to rest. If it was not, then he...endured. 

Always, he endured.

This newest world took all of three seconds to go sideways, and his only saving grace was that the previous world had afforded him nearly four uninterrupted hours of sleep. He drew in a breath as the buzzing faded, immediately diving to the side and smoothly drawing Tsurugi as he heard the whistle of air over a sword’s keen blade.

Sephiroth stood across from him, silver hair rippling in the wind. Cloud had narrowly avoided being impaled by Masamune for the...well, he’d long since lost track of the number of times he’d been impaled on that blade, actually.

Cloud wasn’t surprised. In fact, it was such a familiar scenario that he didn’t feel much of anything. He didn’t speak. He didn’t attack. He waited, ready to act once this Sephiroth revealed what kind of man he was. If he had to fight, he would. If it was better to flee, he would. He had neither pride nor preference left in him.

“Strife,” Sephiroth said, voice hard. 

Ah. That was a new one. Cloud cocked his head to the side. Sephiroth either called him Cloud, possessive as a hand around his throat, or he didn’t recognize him at all. Cloud had never been addressed with the cold distance of Strife before.

Zack was by Sephiroth’s side, expression equally hard. It wasn’t the first time Zack had been hostile to him, but it still burned like a physical wound. “How are you back, Strife?” he spat, sword in hand. “Haven’t we killed you enough already?”

Ah. Ah. Cloud thought he finally had an idea of what was going on. Well, this would either give him another chance to rest or he would be playing an unpleasant game of high-stakes tag against a mirror-image of the family he once knew. He blinked at them tiredly and spoke, not quite ready to holster Tsurugi yet: “Ah. No. I’m not the ‘Strife’ you know. Knew. The opposite, really. I’ve come from a different dimension entirely and I have no wish to fight you.”

Zack scoffed. “You expect us to believe that? After what you did?”

But Sephiroth held up a hand. “Wait. Zack, does he not look different to you?”

Cloud just stood silent, endlessly patient as the two SOLDIERs examined him closely. Zack’s expression in particular slowly melted from angry, wounded hostility to wary confusion. 

“Yeah,” Zack said eventually, tensed muscles relaxing. His eyes lingered on Cloud’s. “Yeah, he does.”

Cloud took a risk, slinging Tsurugi back over his shoulder and locking it to the magnetic holster. They might still try to kill him, but now he would have enough warning to bolt. In response, they slowly lowered their own weapons, though neither fully put them away.

“...Cloud?” Zack asked, soft, cautious...hopeful.

A tiny, tiny smile tugged at the edge of Cloud’s lips. “Most people do call me that, yeah, Zack.”

The dark-haired man’s answering grin was absolutely blinding in its intensity. He took a step forward, only to be stopped by one of Sephiroth’s hands on his chest. 

“Wait,” Sephiroth said, a hard light still lingering in his eyes. “Do you have any way to prove your claims...Cloud?”

He snorted. “I’m guaranteed to vanish into the next dimension within a few hours, but other than that, no.” He shook his head. “I doubt I could even offer you confirmable information. Where I came from⁠, and most of the worlds I’ve seen...well, I’m not the one Zack usually greets with hostility.”

They both blinked in surprise. “What?” Zack asked, head cocking to the side.

“This is just a guess, but by your reactions the Strife of this universe went Jenova-crazy and tried to destroy the world, right?”

Immediately, Zack’s expression shuttered and Sephiroth’s returned to coldness. “Something like that,” Sephiroth said.

“Mm,” Cloud hummed. “Well, sorry to spring this on you⁠—” he wasn’t “⁠—but nine times out of ten, Sephiroth is the one who gets...Jenova’d.”

 Zack looked at Sephiroth, aghast. “Is that⁠—would that have been better or worse?”

“I don’t want to know,” the silver-haired man said flatly. Cloud nodded in agreement. Apparently his words, or maybe his agreement, was enough proof for the silver-haired man to relax from outright hostility. Sephiroth finally dismissed Masamune and Zack followed suit, holstering the broadsword that...wasn’t the Buster.

Cloud didn’t want to know about that either.

Then Zack bounded forward. Cloud flinched as he was swept up into a hug without any warning. His feet were no longer touching the floor. He fought down the reflexive urge to cast a point-blank Firaga. After a few more seconds he even managed to convince his body to relax into Zack’s arms.

“It’s so good to see you again, Cloud,” the dark-haired man murmured, a world of weight behind his words.

The blond huffed. He didn’t share any history with this Zack, a fact which most Zacks tended to conveniently forget (or ignore), but the lingering wounds of his own Zack’s death made him willing to return the embrace and the words. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Zack finally let go, setting him down only to take his face in his hands in a surprisingly intimate gesture. He brushed his thumbs across the dark (and probably permanent by this point) circles beneath Cloud’s eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning in close. “You look like shit, babe.”

Oh boy. Cloud suddenly got the impression that he was missing some very critical pieces of information about the Cloud of this world. He’d also never been confronted by this particular issue before⁠—his mind went blank, which was unhelpful at best.

His expression must have been something to behold, because Zack immediately let go of his face and stepped back. “Oh,” he said, eyes wide, “oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s uh⁠—” Was his face on fire? It felt like his face was on fire. “It’s fine. We⁠—I mean, you two were…?”

“Two?” Zack said, glancing at Sephiroth. “There were uh...a bit more than just us two involved?”

He stared. For once, something other than terror was steadily burning away his fog of tired apathy. “Sephiroth?” he squeaked. “We—I mean, you and him and Sephiroth?”

Then, to his shock (shock deep enough that his hand automatically jerked toward Tsurugi’s handle)  Sephiroth threw his head back and laughed. In fact, he laughed until he had to lean on his knees and tears streamed down his face. “Oh⁠—” he gasped, “oh it really is you, Cloud.”

Cloud looked to Zack for help, but the dark-haired man just grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Me, and you, and Sephiroth,” he agreed. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye that immediately set Cloud on edge. “And... maybe one or two more.”

Sephiroth was still...giggling. Cloud didn’t think his eyes could get any wider without popping right out of his skull. “More? How many more? What the hell?”

“Oh man, is every version of you unbearably cute?” Zack cooed⁠—or maybe flirted, Cloud wasn’t exactly the best at differentiating⁠. “Dunno how you avoided it, but we five fell into each other like...gravity. It felt inevitable, really. You, me, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal.”

“I⁠—what? While I was at Shinra?” He and Zack hadn’t even met until the two commanders defected. A thought struck him. “Was I a SOLDIER?”

Both Zack and Sephiroth shot him odd looks. “Uh, ‘course? You were practically Shinra’s golden boy! Had a fanclub and everything!”

That explained it. Part of it. He didn’t understand why he felt like he’d dodged a bullet. “I never made it into SOLDIER. I was Infantry when we met for the first time.”

At his words, Sephiroth sobered back into the nearly emotionless mask Cloud was used to. “But you are enhanced, clearly. Based on the way you spoke, I would guess that you are enhanced to the same levels that Strife was.”

“Enhanced, yes.” Cloud smiled with bitter humor. “SOLDIER, no. This was Hojo’s doing. I caught his attention by killing my Sephiroth as an ‘unworthy little Infantry brat.’”

They both winced. “I’m...sorry,” Zack said, sincere and awkward. He glanced down, arm still heavy on Cloud’s shoulders. No one seemed inclined to continue that line of inquiry, which was fine by him. “Listen, I⁠—this is selfish of me to ask, but...you said you have a few hours before you leave, right?”

“Four, give or take,” Cloud confirmed. He’d been planning on stuffing himself into a nondescript hole somewhere to sleep, but he was willing to do a lot for Zack. “What is it?”

“Would you...would you come home with us? Not like that!” He added the second part when Cloud blanched and flushed crimson. “It’s just...the others, Gen and Ange, they….they deserve to see you too.”

“Zack…” Cloud sighed, “I’m not the Cloud you knew. You understand that, right?”

Zack’s lips pressed together. He stepped away, letting his hand slide over to rest on the top of Cloud’s shoulder even as he put some distance between them. “I do. I do get that. But you’re still...you. And you are...you’re sane. You’re...whole. It’s enough just to see you. Please. I know it’s selfish. You can say no, we’d still help you, but...” He reached out with his free hand and brushed a thumb over the dark circle under his eye for a second time. “You can just go right to sleep on the couch if you want. It’s enough just to see you. Please.”

He understood the impulse. Hadn’t he been thinking earlier about how soothing it felt just to see any version of Zack alive and happy? For some unfathomable reason, Cloud glanced over at Sephiroth. He nodded in agreement, an unfamiliar softness to the set of his eyes. Huh.

“Alright, Zack,” he said, relenting with a sigh. “I’ll sleep on your couch. All the...boyfriend wrangling is on you, though. I’m not much of a conversationalist even at the best of times.”

Zack just laughed, squeezing his shoulder once before letting go entirely. “I promise I’ll wrangle my boyfriends for you,” he said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Cloud regretted his decision immediately.

[leiawritesstories]

Another Place

Nessian Week, Day 5: Alternate Universe (AU) Day

Yes, I took the prompt literally. ;)

Word count: 2914

Warnings: fuzzy science, fuzzy space mumbo jumbo, language

Skye Penderwick belongs to Jeanne Birdsall. All other characters belong to SJM. 

@nessianweek

~~~~~~

“I’m heading out, Doctor.”

Dr. Nesta Archeron, who held a PhD in astrophysics, looked up from her desk. “All right, Skye, thanks for everything. See you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. Don’t forget to sleep, Dr. Arch!”

“Never do, Dr. Pen!”

The other astrophysicist’s snort of laughter floated down the hall. “Yeah, right.”

Fine, maybe there were nights when Nesta stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, scribbling calculations on the chalkboards and in her notes, combing through theories of all the great scientists before her, adding bits and pieces to her own theory, and generally ruining her sleep schedule with badly timed, random “a-ha!” moments. But to be fair, seven years of developing a theory of alternate universes would do that to a person. 

Seven years ago, she’d run across an anomaly on a deep-space image that didn’t match anything ever recorded or observed by any scientist, ever. And yet it was small enough that most scientists could easily overlook it; it blended into the edge of the nebula that was the focus of the image. Nesta had noticed it, though, and that small imperfection, the wrinkle in the darkness of space, rooted into her mind and stayed there, leading her to question what the hell that blur was and why the hell it was there.

Which in turn led her down the murky rabbit hole of various theories of wormholes and other flaws in space-time, none of which aligned with her observations. And then down the even murkier rabbit hole of theories (of varying degrees of coherence) of parallel and alternate universes. The alternate universe idea in particular intrigued Nesta, and she spent weeks researching every bit of information available, noting how it lined up with her observations, and finally coming to a realization that this image her team had captured could serve as visible, concrete evidence in favor of a theory of alternate universes.

She’d drafted the first bit of her theory and formed a small team to develop it by the next morning.

After five years, countless different images of the anomaly, multiple variations on complex equations, much screaming, and three lifetimes’ worth of coffee, Dr. Nesta Archeron hit a wall.

Literally and figuratively.

Because when she ran into what seemed like an insurmountable block, she punched the nearest wall as hard as possible.

The cracks still radiated across one wall of her lab.

That block, and her efforts to break through it, introduced her to Dr. Skye Penderwick, a brilliant American astrophysicist who, coincidentally, also happened to be fascinated by the theory of alternate universes, despite having no theory of her own. She’d been working at the same facility as Nesta for several months before the two actually met, and within days of Nesta inviting her into her lab, she’d proposed a potential solution to the Archeron team’s roadblock.

It worked.

Nesta offered her a collaborator position that very day. Skye accepted.

Two years later, they were on the edge of breakthrough. Both of them knew it. Both of them saw clearly where their calculations, their notes, their carefully chronicled, detailed observations of the motion of the anomaly, and their years of hard work were leading. The theory Nesta so elegantly posited was nearly complete. All the two self-described space nerds needed was something, anything, to hint beyond scientific explanation that on the other side of that anomaly laid an alternate Earth.

Unfortunately, that something hadn’t shown up quite yet.

For, despite all the remarkable achievements of space science--lightspeed travel, quantum leaping, imaging software capable of capturing formations’ minute details, even the discovery of other habitable planets in faraway galaxies--nobody had yet been able to present a coherent, plausible theory of an alternate universe.

Yet.

Sighing, Nesta pushed back from her desk and walked to the back of her laboratory. She placed her index finger in a barely visible indent in the pristine white wall. A panel slid silently open, revealing a space illuminated by a soft blue glow. A nondescript grey-and-cobalt pressure suit hung neatly in a glass case. Nudging the panel closed, Nesta opened the case and removed the pressure suit.

Hers.

For her…uncatalogued trips. Trips to the station her team had planted by the anomaly. 

Trips which Nesta took regularly. She couldn’t risk any of her team traveling; each and every one of them was needed in the lab. No, it was her job and hers alone to make a regular leap to the station, check on their telescopes, and observe the anomaly up close.

She’d never tried to cross it. Not that she believed there was no passage; in fact, she’d painstakingly detailed the fascinatingly inexplicable illusion of a gap that appeared once every year, and had always failed to conclude if there truly was a gap.

Hence tonight’s little jaunt to the station. That gap had just appeared, and since it only showed for sixty hours, she had to go now.

So Dr. Nesta Archeron slid into her pressure suit, fastened the sleek boots and gloves, programmed the correct coordinates into the screen built into the underside of the suit’s left forearm, locked on her helmet, and keyed in the quantum leap sequence.

A blink later, she stood on the steel tiles of her team’s small, simple station deep in the reaches of outer space. Removing her helmet, Nesta allowed herself exactly three minutes to drink in the wonders of deep space.

Then she set the station’s timers for forty-eight hours, sat at the control panel, and piloted her space station/highly advanced spaceship into the gap in the universe.

For it was indeed a gap.

~

Commander Cassian Ilnair released the cockpit hatch of his sleek “interstellar exploration transport,” or, as he called her, the Millenium Falcon. Bloody government and their bloody idiotic pompous names for spaceships. That’s all it was, a spaceship, albeit a highly advanced, highly adaptable one that had carried him and up to four crew safely across nearly every corner of the universe and back to Earth.

Pulling his flight helmet off, he shook out his unruly shoulder-length hair, half- unzipped his navy blue pressure suit, and started postflight checks. 

“She’ll need to be refueled and the usual before she travels again, but other than that, good as new,” he reported to his CO, a woman five feet tall if she was an inch whose impeccable, formidable exploration resumé and take-no-bullshit demeanor made up for her diminutive height. 

“Excellent, Commander. I expect a full report on Disturbance AS-2947C by noon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cassian saluted.

“Dismissed.”

As he headed for the shower, Cass stole a glance at his wrist screen, which showed eight-fifteen a.m. Damn space time, he grumbled to himself, throws off my goddamn body clock. Luckily, he’d noted no significant change in that particular disturbance since the last time he visited it two weeks ago. That’d make his report much easier, indeed.

Sure, the disturbance was rippling ever so slightly, but it did that every year at this time and had been doing so since it appeared exactly seven years ago. 

Not a single scientist in all the ranks of the space force could provide a plausible explanation, or even a cohesive theory.

Disturbance AS-2947C was just that, a disturbance. A puzzling, inexplicable snag in the fabric of space time that had just appeared one day and sat around for seven years, following a routine path of motion but not really moving anywhere, just pulsing, and showing a ripple for exactly sixty hours exactly once per year.

Cassian knew his brilliant astrophysicist friend Dr. Emerie Nguyen was developing a theory that AS-2947C was a wormhole, but so far she hadn’t found any evidence to support there being another side to it. So far, all Emerie could say was that this disturbance could very well be the concrete evidence of stable wormholes she and every other member of the space sciences sector had been chasing for years. And yet they were still chasing it. 

He quickly showered and changed into his everyday uniform, slipped his wristband back on, and drew up a quick set of notes for the commodore. At exactly two minutes before noon, he knocked on her office door.

“Enter.”

Cassian stepped into the office, closed the door, and saluted. “Ma’am.”

“At ease, Commander. I believe you’re early today.”

“Some days I try to be punctual, Commodore.”

“I see.” She motioned to the west wall. “Report, Commander.”

Tapping three fingers twice against the wall, Cassian swiped an image from his tablet onto the wall, which doubled as a presentation screen. 

“Today’s imaging of Disturbance AS-2947C shows no remarkable differences from the last set. The formation has not morphed or shifted noticeably in any direction.” He swiped to a new image. “The annual irregularity in the approximate center of the disturbance appeared on schedule roughly three hours before we arrived, making it now roughly seven hours visible.” 

“Any notable observations about the irregularity?”

“No, Commodore. The irregularity is behaving exactly like it has for the six years we’ve observed it. It merely appears as what looks to be the illusion of a gap, holds steady for sixty hours, and disappears. We have never been able to decipher if the irregularity is in fact a gap or if it is simply a change in the observed color.”

“Have you never attempted to pilot your craft towards this irregularity?”

Cassian swallowed. “With all due respect, Commodore, yes. I believe you are familiar with the deep-space engine failure incident of last year?”

“I am.”

“That was my attempt to discover more about the irregularity.”

“Ah.” The commodore tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Though I never did hear the pilot’s explanation of this failure.”

“First, may I ask what the engineers’ conclusion was?”

“The engineers concluded that the engine failure, which somehow you managed to prevent from becoming catastrophic, was the result of a power failure caused by the change in the conditions of space within the disturbance. They informed me that the engine short-circuited when your craft entered the boundary of the disturbance, but they could not explain or even theorize why.”

Cassian nodded. “I can theorize why. Commodore, I believe the power failed because, simply put, the way we fuel our crafts does not exist within the disturbance.”

“Are you implying that neither solar nor stellar energy exists within AS-2947C?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. The instant I entered that region, my engines went completely silent. I had no time to observe anything else, as my immediate reaction was to reverse course and exit, lest I risk total craft failure and being stranded in the deepest parts of space. My craft regained power once outside the disturbance region, and I made it back, despite one of my engines being nonfunctional. As I’ve thought about it over the months, I can only come to the conclusion that the power cut off because there was no available power source.”

Commodore Amren considered Cass’s explanation. “It is logical, and it would explain why the engineers could not determine the cause of the failure. Power source failure, when rectified immediately, leaves behind no visible evidence within the engines of our craft.”

“Commodore, I still want to enter the disturbance. I believe that a craft carrying physical fuel could safely enter the region.”

“Physical fuel became obsolete decades ago, Commander.”

“And yet we still have stores. This is why. We knew there was a chance some mission might need to use fuel rather than energy to power its craft. This is that mission.”

“Commander, I’m afraid I cannot give you clearance to enter the disturbance. Not at the moment, at least. You know the regulations.”

Cassian sighed. “Right, right, seven days between active pilot duty.”

“There is one thing I can do, if you wish.”

“Tell me?”

“You may take a small stationary craft to the observation point. Stations do not qualify as actively piloted craft. I can assign you a seventy-two-hour observation mission, which will allow you to be as close to Disturbance AS-2947C as possible without endangering yourself or your craft, and also will allow you to report any noteworthy changes. Acceptable?”

“Accepted, ma’am. Thank you.”

The commodore nodded once. “I’ll get the assignment written up now. Prepare for launch at 1600 hours.”

Cassian snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Dismissed.”

Four hours later, Cassian’s small observation stationcraft left Earth’s atmosphere, set its destination coordinates, and blinked away into a quantum leap, arriving at the observation point in mere seconds. 

Arrived at destination, the cool, mechanical autopilot voice announced. Artificial gravity effective in sixty seconds.

Cassian sat back, checking his harness. All secure.

Artificial gravity in effect.

Unbuckling, he stood up, pulled off his helmet, and walked to the windows, staring into the fascinating mystery of Disturbance AS-2947C. The irregularity rippled, gently, like he’d seen it do before, taunting him with the possibility of something on the other side. He stood there barely thinking, just marveling at the sight of this enigmatic corner of deep space.

And then the irregularity expanded. And a craft like nothing he’d ever seen flew out.

~

Nesta hadn’t known whether she was sane when she flew into the gap. Hell, she hadn’t known if she was thinking, let alone doing. If wormhole theory meant anything, then she’d expected a moment of terrifying flight through stark blackness that ended in her ship landing in some other, possibly uncharted, part of the universe.

She hadn’t been expecting to see an alien station.

But there it was.

The gap was a tunnel of sorts. And at the other end was a station Nesta didn’t recognize. 

She directed her ship around the foreign station, intending to capture images for examination in her lab. But before she could key in the command to the ship’s cameras, her radio cracked with static. And then someone spoke.

“Who the hell are you?”

Nesta stared at the receiver, then dragged her gaze to the station. Standing in what looked like an observation deck was a man wearing a pressure suit and boots, holding a comm device to his mouth.

“I repeat, who the hell are you?”

“You tell me first. And while you’re at it, what the hell is that station you’re in?”

“It’s a standard observation craft, of course. Unlike whatever alien craft you’re flying.”

“This is a typical exploration ship, you coarse, callous idiot.”

“Like fuck it is.”

“What’s the matter, never seen a woman fly a real ship before?”

“Never seen that particular ship before in my entire life as a pilot. Or in any of my texts.”

“You’re telling me this very real ship I’m flying doesn’t exist?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then--” Nesta’s eyes widened in shock. “Pilot, may I have your name and credentials?”

“Commander Cassian Ilnair, Earth’s space force.”

“Earth’s space force,” Nesta muttered to herself, scanning through her mind for anything related to that name. Nothing. And then it hit her.

“Commander Ilnair, who leads your nation?”

“My nation?” He seemed confused by the word. “Nations melded into a global government centuries ago. President Amarantha currently heads the Global Council.”

A look of wonder crossed Nesta’s face. “It’s true…it’s true. I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“Commander, my name is Dr. Nesta Archeron. I’m from an alternate Earth.”

The man standing in the unfamiliar station dropped his comm device. And stared.

“Permission to attempt to dock at your station? We have some items to discuss.”

He sat down on the deck floor and picked up his radio. “Granted, if you can.”

Nesta flew a slow lap around the station, noticing two docking ports, both with airlocks that seemed oddly familiar. Hmm, she thought, airlock design is clearly universal. Aiming for the port closer to the observation deck, she carefully guided her ship into the space and sighed in relief when the hatch clicked into place with the station’s airlock. 

“Connect the airlock to my ship, if you would?”

“What’s the magic word, Dr. Archeron?” Nesta swore she could hear his damn smirk.

“Please connect your airlock to my ship so I can explain myself.”

“Of course.”

Less than two minutes later, Nesta heard the familiar hiss of an airlock sealing into place around her ship’s hatch. 

“Clear for exit, Dr. Archeron.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Nesta placed her tablet and several images into her pack, slung it over her shoulder, released her exit hatch, and swiftly ascended the ladder into the station. The moment her head cleared, she was looking around, mentally cataloguing every detail of the spacecraft. It was basic, functional, only containing living quarters and an observation lab. 

“Whenever you’re done gaping, Doctor, we can talk.”

Nesta turned to face the commander, who was leaning against a wall just outside the airlock. “There is a difference between observing and gaping, pilot, not that you would know.”

A cocky grin crept across his face. “Naturally, I’m just one of the best pilots in the universe, I wouldn’t know.”

“Your universe,” she corrected.

“What?”

“Your universe, Commander Ilnair. Or has your tiny brain already forgotten what I said about being from an alternate universe?”

He shook his head. “Right. Sorry, I’m still trying to process that.”

“As am I. Show me to the lab?”

“Not much to show, but follow me.” He led her down a short hallway onto the observation deck and laboratory, clearly the main space of the station. “Here we are. I believe you mentioned something about explaining yourself?”

“I did.”

He gestured toward her. “Go ahead.”

So she did.