#back when i was still in the midst of not being able to write anything so

[maelancoli]

Adding Tension After the Ship Happens

i feel a lot of slow burn ships lose steam after the characters finally get together, whether it's just from sleeping together or them actually engaging in a relationship, so here are some ideas for how to maintain steam.

their problems are not solved now that they've crossed the thresh hold

first things first, the plot itself i'm sure has other details than just their relationship. even the most fluffy of fluff has other things going on than kisses and giggles. don't abandon these details once the relationship truly begins. and if there was any kind of unresolved tension point or previously mentioned ex/trauma/insecurity/fear bring it back! bring things back around that might put a strain on a new, tender relationship. this can either make them have problems or be a way to develop their bonds and *show* it in action. any of these foreshadowing/resurrected points can be added in edits if you didn't start out with them or with retconning if you're writing rp/fanfic. all the writers do it. we see it in tv everyday it's ok if u gotta pull a rabbit from a hat.

their relationship will not be suddenly smooth and solid as if they have been married 20 years

okay they kissed/fucked/agreed to be together. now what? what circumstances kept them from getting there sooner? are those circumstances still present and how will they deal with it as a team? you also don't have to have characters officially together once they've done something physical. there is still discussion to be had and boundaries/expectations to establish. those conversations could be interesting to explore. and, even more-so, this is the perfect point for plot to happen and keep them from being able to have those conversations when they should. you can add angst, you can add miscommunication, you can add anything that tickles your fancy. especially a perfect time to have an ex return to cause some tension and uncertainty if they haven't made it official. they don't know what they are yet and that uncertainty is a delicious point to write it and really give the characters a hard time

utilize the main plot's tension

again, if you're writing more than just a contemporary fluffy romance, the romance should enrich the main plot. the romance as a subplot should be a component which merges with the main storyline and does not take away from it. if you don't want to milk the will-they-won't-they anymore than you already have it's time to build the relationship up in the midst of OUTSIDE conflict. let them disagree about how to resolve problems. let them butt heads. let them be scared and do and say stupid shit because they're scared. let them be worried or angry or frustrated and have to figure out how to balance their newfound vulnerability with who they are and were before that point. let them hurt each other a little so they can come back together stronger.

utilize the characters around them

if it is a plot which is mainly romance filled, then think about the tension from the lives around them. think about their loved ones and how their own issues could influence the plot points the characters have to face together. this could be a time for them to be introduced to loved ones. you could throw in a group trip with silly mishaps and shenanigans. you could even have loved ones try to break them up or doubt the love interest. navigating new relationships while also dealing with friends and family can be a source of plot and tension in and of itself. this can be a point to let love interests reassure each other and prove their salt. it can help them grow closer. it can be the heroic moment for one of them to stick up for the other or prove they're there for them no matter what.

overall if you're struggling with what to do after the slow burn feels like it's sizzling out it's time to zoom out. make sure you are not losing the whole picture of their environment or steamrolling past the real development of new relationships.

[jasmineoolongtea]

hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

[nitpick7]

i feel like the life series fandom has not properly utilized the angst potential of the wildcards yet. and maybe i just haven't read enough posts or fics yet, which is definitely possible, but i'm gonna ramble anyway. (disclaimer: i've watched every pov but probably will get details wrong anyway.)

session one. pearl goes off, alone, away from her group for just a bit. just to mine a little bit more, get some iron. she's crouching at the edge of a cliff to get a better look at the cave, when suddenly the ground isn't underneath her anymore. she doesn't even slip, doesn't have time to react, she just falls.

session two i've thought about so much that i started writing a oneshot (unfortunately still a wip). everyone having to eat rocks and ores and wood and just so many things that they are not meant to eat... but they're all literally starving and real food doesn't fill them anymore. so they're biting into anything they can get their hands on, just hoping and praying that it fills them and doesn't poison them or make them float away... the terror every time the food changes? scrambling to find the next items to eat. ough.

the SNAILS. god. the snails. those things are cute but deadly. bigb, start of the session, seconds after the wildcard activates, hearing something and seeing something and then he's dead. gone. he's gone from peacefully mining to dead in seconds flat and everyone instantly knows just how deadly this one will be.

the speed one... has less angst potential. it's more just the constant fear, being constantly on edge, not used to the speed everything is moving at. they're frustrated at being too slow or their brains aren't moving as fast as their legs, or it's the very start of the session and they're frozen in time with no idea what's happening.

triviabot is less about the trivia itself and more about how it makes everyone act. sabotaging their friends and enemies alike, hiding bots, feeding people false information. they can't trust anyone in that session. but the moment they can trust someone, they latch onto them. someone gets a question about an ally and books it across the server to ask them about it, hoping their bot is still there when they get back.

more on triviabot: there's also the effects if they get something wrong. the robot voice is crazy because to themselves, they sound perfectly normal, but no one can fucking understand them. they're just unable to communicate and don't know for how long. or they're knocked down a few hearts, unable to be fully healed. constantly hurting at least a bit. being equipped with leather armor that they can't take off, unable to protect themselves. tripling in size, not being able to fit anywhere or do anything because they're so big. or their snails coming back, slower but still terrifying.

the mobs one... the very first thing that happens is everyone's beloved pets being killed. unless they happened to have the resources for a nametag beforehand. bdubs almost lost his horse! lizzie spent forever trying to collect mobs just for them to be murdered again! and the trial chamber. grian, joel (who didn't even want to be there), etho, scar; already in the midst of battle, and then all the fucking mobs change? they were terrified in real life, do you know how good that could be in fics?

you may think that there is little angst potential from superpowers. you would be wrong. again, it's less from the wildcard itself and more from how it makes people act. impulse teleporting ren into an obsidian box full of water in order to prove ren was lying about his power? that shit's CRAZY. WHAT THE HELL. impulse literally tried to drown ren to prove scott's point! and like good for him but!!! holy shit!!!!! or grian, who should know what he's doing, losing pearl's ability mid-air and falling to his death - grian falling to his death? (and obviously the listener symbolism with martyn and jimmy. we know we can do stuff with that.)

the final session is just. all of that. but combined. and more wild. it's everything all at once, randomly activating and deactivating, no one knows what's going on and it's a mess. just confusion and chaos.

so. yeah. there is my ramble, i might do smth with this but i might not. please add to this if you have more wildcard related angst, i will love you so much. Ɛ:

[calmcoldevening]

Hi!

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers x S/O who is very strong but doesn’t look it?

If that makes sense…

Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?

Sorry I don’t know if that’s too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much! ☺️💗

Slashers with strong s/o

Warnings: little mention of blood, bodies and etc (it's about slashers okay?)

Characters: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

Ps: kitten, sorry for not to write about Hannibal and Will in this post, I've just seen it a lot time ago, I wasn't sure for to describe their reaction.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ And I'm really sorry that I had such a long break. I just had some problems and I just didn't feel able to write anything. I'm really sorry. But now I will try to get back into the rhythm and start writing, because I have accumulated a lot of drafts ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Bo Sinclair

• At the very beginning, when you first became a part of this peculiar life in the city, Bo really thought you were fragile. But you just haven't settled in yet. Bo saw you as some kind of angel who needed to be protected from his favorite problems, like a delicate flower with beautiful but fragile petals.

• Even if you tried to do some hard work like dragging bodies to Vincent's basement, Bo wouldn't let you do it, calling it 'not a woman's work'.

• Of course, it offended you, but you tried not to focus on it. After all, this man was very worried about his family.

• Exactly until one of the survivors tried to take you with him.

• Everything happened too fast. At one point, Bo heard your short scream and immediately rushed out of the house to the exit of the city. And the next moment he already saw you sitting astride the chest of the victim's boyfriend and strangling him with your delicate fragile hands. Your face was frowning and focused, beads of sweat were running down your forehead, and your hair was disheveled. But there was a devilish light shining in your eyes. This sight made Sinclair's cold heart tremble. Damn, you're perfect.

Vincent Sinclair

• His thoughts about you were exactly the same as his brother's. You were a wonderful muse in the eyes of the sculptor, the basis of his inspiration.

• Whenever new victims came into town, he tried to find a reason to leave you at home, often even under the supervision of Lester.

• And yet, unlike Bo, I think Vincent knew that women are still the embodiment of power. Throughout his childhood, his mother was a strong figure, because his father, being a doctor, was often absent from home. And Vincent saw how his mother coped alone with even the hardest work.

• Therefore, when he saw you next to a lifeless body in your house, his reaction was not unambiguous. At first he was taken aback and even a little worried. But the next moment, a warm smile spread across his face. You reminded him of his mom, and that made his heart beat faster.

• The fragile fairy turned into a fighting angel at one moment, often protecting the inattentive Sinclair brothers from uninvited guests.

• And the way you now easily carried bodies or helped Lester with the corpses of animals pleasantly warmed his heart.

Thomas Hewitt

• Tommy really liked you.

• You were a kind of lifeline in the midst of all this brutal cruelty and violence. So sweet, small and innocent. Your hair smelled pleasantly of honey, and your delicate hands were soaked with a light aroma of household soap, pleasantly tickling Thomas's nose. So small and delicate in comparison with him. A pure flower.

• He often worried about you. Tommy was afraid that his big body would scare you. He was afraid of not liking you, of being too big, too rude, too different. And yet you loved him. Therefore, the man tried to take care of you in every possible way and protect you.

• He wouldn't have survived if something had happened to you. What if one of the 'pigs' steals you?

• Thomas thought so exactly until the moment when Hoyt started swearing at him once again. But now it was different. If earlier it was comments about his work and appearance, now Hoyt just called Thomas an animal.

• Before Thomas could blink an eye, you were standing in the middle of the room with your fist raised up, and Hoyt flew to the wall with a loud bang, holding his jaw throbbing with pain. Tommy was looking at you with big eyes full of shock. Did you, his little angel, hit Hoyt? By yourself?

• After a moment, you walk up to Thomas and ask if he's okay. Are you okay? Hell yes! Tommy looks down at you awkwardly, a nervous smile on his face. He takes a step forward and wraps you in a tight hug. Damn it, you're gorgeous.

[ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey]

(Open heart on fire re-write, the one where MC is not MIA.)

Ethan Ramsey strode through the corridors of Edenbrook, his steps brisk and purposeful. It had been just over a year since he’d taken the position of Chief, and while the job was certainly not without its challenges—paperwork, meetings, administrative headaches—there was a quiet satisfaction in it.

The kind of satisfaction that he would never openly admit, of course. After all, this was Ethan Ramsey; complaining was second nature. He had a knack for finding the flaws, the inefficiencies, and the countless ways things could be better. Yet, amidst the grumbling, there was a thrill to the position—a sense of ownership and control over the medicine he had devoted his life to.

But it wasn’t just the job that gave him that feeling. There was something, or rather someone, who had made this past year feel different. His gaze drifted to the diagnostic wing as he walked, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The thing he adored most about his role wasn’t found in policy changes or budget meetings; it was the fact that Elle worked just a few corridors away. Their paths crossed often—sometimes by coincidence, sometimes not. The days were busier, more unpredictable now, but he loved the way his heart skipped whenever he saw her coming down the hallway or caught a glimpse of her in the midst of a case. It was like they were connected by an invisible thread, always pulling them back to each other, no matter how chaotic the hospital became. Even now, as he walked the familiar halls, he felt the pull, an unspoken anticipation humming beneath his cool exterior.

As he rounded a corner, he could see Harper talking animatedly to a group of interns near the elevators, her sharp eyes catching his the second he approached. A brief nod was exchanged between them—a silent acknowledgment that he was, indeed, doing what he did best—keeping things running smoothly, but also always keeping an eye out for her. Because as much as he was Chief, Ethan Ramsey was also still very much a doctor. And part of being a doctor meant knowing where his most important people were. Especially when one of them was Elle.

Although, that morning, Ethan had woken up to find Elle still in bed, her face flushed and her voice thick with congestion. She’d caught a nasty cold, the kind that left her sniffling and coughing weakly under a pile of blankets. It was clear she wasn’t in any shape to make it to work, but she had insisted he go in anyway. She’d given him that familiar, stubborn look, the one that said she wasn’t to be argued with, even though she was barely able to sit up without a bout of coughing. “You’re Chief now, Ethan,” she’d said, her voice hoarse yet determined. “You have to be there. No arguments.” He’d lingered by her side, reluctant to leave her alone while she was sick, but eventually, after a lot of gentle persuasion on her part, he’d relented. It was typical Elle, putting him and the hospital before herself, and he couldn’t help but admire her even as he worried. So, with a soft kiss to her forehead and a promise to check in between cases, he had pulled on his lab coat and headed out the door, her insistence echoing in his mind as he left.

Ethan pulled out his phone, standing just outside the Diagnostics Team’s workspace. With a quick swipe, he opened a new message to Elle, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen:

How are you feeling? Did you get any rest? I’ll be home as soon as I can. Let me know if you need anything.

He hit send, his mind half-focused on Elle as he slid his phone back into his coat pocket. Without thinking, he turned the corner—and immediately collided with Harper Emery, nearly sending her files spilling to the floor.

“Ethan!” Harper exclaimed, catching herself and laughing a bit. “You’ve really got to watch where you’re going. Distracted, huh? You look like a lost puppy.”

Ethan took a step back, his expression neutral as he steadied her by the elbow. “Sorry, Harper,” he said, his voice a bit clipped. “Just trying to check in on Elle.”

Harper raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. “She’s off today, isn’t she? Is she alright?”

Ethan sighed, a subtle frustration seeping into his posture as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, she’s got some kind of cold,” he said, his voice a mix of concern and exhaustion. “Elle insisted I come in, said it’s nothing serious. But you know how she is—stubborn as hell.”

Harper nodded knowingly. “She never does things halfway, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Ethan admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’d drag herself in if I let her. But I told her to stay home and rest.” He dropped his hand from his face, looking directly at Harper. “It’s just… hard not to worry.”

“Well,” Harper said, her tone shifting to something lighter, “if she’s as tough as you say, she’ll be back before you know it. In the meantime, we need you here, Chief. Diagnostics could use your brain today.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the familiar walls of the hospital settling him back into his role. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Harper,” he replied dryly, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Before Harper could respond, a deafening explosion rocked the building, rattling the windows and sending a powerful shockwave through the hospital. The ceiling above them cracked, releasing a shower of dust and debris as an ear-splitting roar filled the air. Alarms blared instantly, drowning out any coherent sounds, and the floor seemed to tremble beneath their feet.

In an instinctive, protective motion, Ethan threw his arm around Harper’s shoulders, yanking her down and shielding her with his body as chunks of the ceiling gave way, slamming onto the floor with a thunderous crash just inches from where they stood. Plaster and metal rained down around them, filling the air with a choking cloud of dust. The acrid smell of smoke hit his nostrils almost immediately, thick and suffocating, forcing him to breathe shallowly.

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline searing through his veins, and he turned quickly, scanning the hall for any signs of immediate danger. “Harper!” he barked, his voice rough with urgency as he pulled her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, eyes wide, her face pale with shock. “No, I’m okay,” she managed to say, but the words were barely audible over the cacophony of alarms.

Through the settling dust, Ethan could see the panic starting to unfold. Staff and patients alike were scrambling, shouts and cries blending into a chaotic symphony of fear. He had no time to think, only to act. “We need to move!” he said, gripping Harper’s arm tighter, guiding her through the rubble-strewn corridor.

They stumbled forward, dodging debris as they fought their way down the smoke-filled hallway. The lights flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows across the chaos that had suddenly enveloped Edenbrook. With every step, the situation seemed to grow more dire—plumes of smoke curling up from the fissures in the walls, the distant sound of shattering glass echoing like a warning.

Ethan’s mind raced, his instincts overriding any sense of personal safety. He knew the protocols, knew what he had to do, but as the floor buckled beneath his feet, he couldn’t help but think of Elle—sick and vulnerable, alone in their apartment while the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

“Stay low!” he shouted to Harper as they pressed on, his gaze shifting towards the exit signs glowing dimly through the haze. His only goal now was to get to the source of the chaos and make sure they could stabilize whatever the hell had just happened before it got any worse.

Ethan’s mind flashed back to the mandatory fire training they’d all gone through—the RACE protocol drilled into them year after year: Rescue, Alarm, Confine, Extinguish. It was all muscle memory now, taking over as his logical mind raced to keep up with the chaos. As Harper sprinted towards the closest fire exit, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. He had to take charge.

“Nurse!” he called out to a nearby staff member, urgency sharpening his voice. “Clear the hallways and get anyone in immediate danger to a safe place!”

He moved further down the smoke-filled corridor, his steps quick and purposeful, scanning for any sign of immediate danger. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Jackie and Bryce, both of them looking wide-eyed but focused amid the chaos.

“Dr. Varma,” he said, locking eyes with Jackie, his voice calm despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Assess how many patients need assistance with transport. We have to prioritize them.”

Jackie gave a sharp nod, determination replacing the fear on her face.

“On it, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied, turning swiftly to begin her task. She disappeared into the smoke, her footsteps already fading.

Ethan pivoted to face Bryce. “Lahela,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Inspect all windows and doors. Keep them shut. We can’t risk feeding the fire with any oxygen from outside.”

Bryce didn’t hesitate, giving a quick salute before sprinting towards the nearest corridor, shutting doors as he went.

Jackie’s voice cut through the confusion, her tone edged with worry as she looked back at Ethan. “Do we have any idea what that explosion was?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to maintain control over his rising anger. “Could be oxygen tanks,” he said, his eyes flickering over the debris scattered around them. “We won’t know for sure until the fire department gets here,” he added, a hard edge to his voice. He couldn’t hide his frustration, a mix of worry and impatience boiling just beneath the surface. “If they ever get here.”

The uncertainty gnawed at him. As much as he trusted his instincts and the training he’d been through countless times, it was impossible to predict what kind of situation they were dealing with until the experts arrived. For now, all he could do was make sure his team was in control and keep everyone safe.

Ethan shook off the lingering irritation that gnawed at him. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. “Get back to your tasks, and make sure the doors are closed behind you!” he barked at Jackie and Bryce, watching as they moved swiftly back into action.

He circled back to the atrium, eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Nurses were guiding patients to the exits, some wheeling stretchers, others ushering those who could walk on their own. It was a practiced chaos, the kind Ethan thrived in. He quickly assigned more staff to ensure each patient was accounted for and directed towards safety.

Suddenly, a frantic voice rose above the cacophony. Ethan turned sharply, spotting a teenage girl who looked overwhelmed, her eyes wide with terror. “Someone, please help! My brother—I can’t find him!” she cried, her hands shaking.

Ethan was at her side in an instant, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring despite the chaos swirling around them. “Take a deep breath. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Alicia!” A voice called out from behind, cutting off the girl’s frantic reply. Ethan’s gaze whipped around, and he spotted a firefighter emerging through the thick smoke. In his arms, he carried a young boy, coughing and dazed but seemingly unharmed.

Relief washed over the girl—Alicia—as she rushed to her brother’s side. The firefighter, with his perfectly styled brunette hair and a jawline that looked chiseled out of marble, barely had a smudge of ash on him. Ethan’s gratitude mingled with a flash of annoyance, the man looking more like a plastic firefighter Ken doll than someone who had just dragged a child out of a burning building.

Ethan watched as the firefighter handed his helmet to the boy, a wide grin spreading across Cody’s face. “Cody! Thank god you’re okay!” Alicia sobbed, pulling her brother into a tight embrace.

Phoenix, the firefighter who’d carried Cody out, crouched down to ruffle the kid’s hair. “He’s gonna be just fine, don’t worry,” he said warmly. “Cody, why don’t you tell your sister how brave you were?”

Cody beamed, standing a little taller. “Firefighter Phoenix says maybe one day, I can join the squad!” he announced proudly.

With a hearty chuckle, Phoenix placed his oversized helmet on the boy’s head, tilting it until it sat just right. “Looks good to me. What do you think?” he asked, winking at Alicia.

Ethan, arms folded, let out a soft scoff under his breath. Figures the flame jockey would be a softie, he thought. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to be professional. “You did a good thing there,” he acknowledged, nodding to Phoenix. “The poor kid was out of her mind before you got here.”

Phoenix’s warm expression cooled instantly as he turned to Ethan, his eyes narrowing. “Let me guess, you’re the stooge in charge here,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Ethan felt his jaw tighten. “I am… Dr. Ethan Ramsey, Chief of Medicine,” he replied, barely containing the irritation that flared within him. “And you are…?”

“Shea Phoenix,” the firefighter shot back, “Battalion Chief, Engine 57. I need you to get your people on top of evacuation.”

Ethan’s frown deepened, his voice firm. “We are on top of evacuation, Phoenix. There isn’t a smoke alarm going off because a tray of cookies burnt.” He glared at the firefighter, who seemed unfazed. “Hospitals have protocols that best serve our patients—protocols which you should be familiar with—”

Phoenix waved him off, turning away mid-sentence. “Amelia!” he barked over his shoulder. “Make sure the flames are contained at the point of origin.”

Ignoring the frustration boiling in his chest, Ethan forced himself to focus. Phoenix’s arrogance was infuriating, but there were bigger priorities. Phoenix turned back to him, his face all business. “Ramsey, I need to secure electrical power,” he said, voice clipped. “Where’s a map of your systems?”

Ethan paused, caught off guard. “I—I’ll get it,” he said, suppressing a flash of annoyance.

“I also need to know where your generator room is, which areas are supported by emergency power?” Phoenix pressed, his expression unyielding. “Stat.”

Ethan drew in a slow, calming breath, reigning in his temper. “I’m happy to help,” he said through clenched teeth, his thoughts boiling. Help get your pompous ass out of my hair, that is. He handed over the information Phoenix needed, then quickly resumed organizing the evacuation, determined not to let the firefighter’s attitude get in the way of his focus.

After what felt like an eternity, the evacuation was complete. Patients and staff gathered outside the hospital, huddled in groups as the fire department worked to ensure the building’s safety. Ethan stood apart from the others, arms crossed as he watched Phoenix confer with his team, the smoke clearing in the morning light.

Phoenix walked over, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ethan. For a long moment, they said nothing, just staring at the charred windows and smoke-stained walls of Edenbrook. Finally, Ethan broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “I appreciate your help,” he said, his tone measured, “despite the fact that it is literally your job.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“But,” Ethan continued, his voice softening, “everyone is safe thanks to you. I owe you one.”

For a second, the fire chief looked surprised. Then, he nodded, the smirk fading to something more genuine. “Just doing what I’m trained to do, Doc,” he said. “But you and your team kept it together. We were a damn good team today.”

Ethan gave a reluctant nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t often he met someone as stubborn and relentless as himself. “Just don’t expect me to say that twice,” he muttered.

Ethan stepped back inside Edenbrook, his sharp gaze sweeping over the first floor. There was some smoke damage—blackened patches here and there on the walls and ceilings—but nothing catastrophic. The firefighters had done an impressive job containing the flames to the second floor. For the first time since the chaos began, he allowed himself to exhale, relief mingling with grudging admiration. Guess the flame jockeys are good for something, he thought.

He felt the unmistakable presence of Phoenix behind him, the firefighter’s broad shadow stretching across the floor. “You look like you’re choking on praise there, Doc,” Phoenix said, a teasing edge in his voice. “It won’t kill you to admit I know what I’m doing.”

Ethan smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re right,” he said, his voice dry, “but it might take a year off my life.”

Phoenix laughed, the sound echoing in the hallway, carrying a hint of camaraderie beneath the banter. “Nothing’s gonna topple that ego of yours, is it, Doc?” he challenged, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Ethan let out a weary sigh, crossing his arms. “You can’t talk,” he shot back. “Yours is as big as mine.”

Phoenix’s grin widened, and for a second, the tension between them eased, the lingering scent of smoke and the distant crackle of radios fading into the background. “Touché,” Phoenix conceded, nodding in acknowledgment. “But let’s just agree it’s our egos that got the job done today.”

“Maybe,” Ethan allowed, his eyes flicking to the scorched stairs leading to the second floor. “Or maybe it’s because, for once, we didn’t get in each other’s way.”

Phoenix chuckled, clapping Ethan on the shoulder with a heavy, calloused hand. “I’ll take that as the closest thing to a compliment I’m gonna get.”

Ethan shook his head, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t push it, Phoenix,” he warned, but there was no heat behind his words. They stood there a moment longer, two men who’d just gone toe-to-toe with disaster, silently acknowledging the uneasy respect that had begun to take root between them.

The entire afternoon had been a blur, a nonstop whirlwind of assessing, stabilizing, and coordinating the aftermath of the explosion. The doctors and firefighters worked together with the kind of synchronicity that only comes from experience, their movements efficient and precise. As the last of the smoke finally dissipated, the sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the hospital grounds. Ethan glanced at the clock, the exhaustion of the day pressing down on his shoulders. Edenbrook and Engine 57 had made a pretty damn good team, he had to admit.

Standing near the paperwork, Ethan read through the reports one last time. “Not one single casualty. I’m impressed,” he murmured to no one in particular.

Phoenix, who had been standing nearby, looked over his shoulder at the paper and grinned. “Careful, Ramsey. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Ethan smirked, shaking his head. “My mistake,” he replied dryly, “it wasn’t meant to be.”

Phoenix chuckled quietly, but his expression softened as he grew more serious. “Well, I don’t know about you, but after today, I’m in desperate need of a drink. You and your team should join us.”

Ethan paused for a moment, the thought of some well-deserved R&R tempting him more than he’d care to admit. After the madness of the day, it wasn’t a bad idea. “I think we’ve earned a Scotch at Donahue’s,” he said with a grin.

“Excellent choice.”

Donahue’s was one of those old-school bars that seemed to capture the essence of a long, hard day’s work. The dim lights cast a golden glow over the aged wooden tables and the mismatched bar stools. The air was thick with chatter, laughter, and the sound of glasses clinking together as the crew from Edenbrook and Engine 57 relived the chaos they’d just survived. The bar smelled faintly of whiskey and wood polish, and the music in the background was a steady hum of classic rock—nothing too loud, just enough to settle into a rhythm as people relaxed.

Ethan and Phoenix found their way to the bar, where Reggie, the bartender, greeted them with a smile that said he’d seen his fair share of trouble over the years.

Ethan leaned against the counter. “Whiskey, did you say?” he asked, his tone more curious than anything.

Phoenix nodded, tapping the bar with his fingers. “Neat.”

Ethan turned to Reggie, ordering their drinks. “A Scotch and a whiskey, please.”

Reggie nodded and made his way down the bar to prepare the drinks. As he returned, Ethan lifted his glass towards Phoenix. “Here’s to being chief,” Ethan said, his voice carrying a tone of both respect and humor. “It’s a tough job…”

Phoenix smirked, clinking his glass against Ethan’s with a quiet clink. “But someone’s gotta do it.”

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Took the words right out of my mouth. Kind of annoying how you keep doing that.”

Phoenix’s eyes swept around the room, scanning the familiar faces and the cozy atmosphere of the bar. “It’s no O’Malley’s,” he remarked, “but it’s pretty nice here.”

Ethan smirked back, the warmth of the Scotch easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Well, one perk is that it’s usually not filled with firefighters.”

Phoenix shook his head, grinning. “Ha-ha. How do you command such a solid team when you’re such a pain in the ass?”

Ethan took another sip of his drink, considering Phoenix’s question with a thoughtful expression. “Healthy combination of fear and the promise of occasional after-work drinks.”

As the two men exchanged a look of amusement, Ethan’s phone rang, cutting through the banter. He glanced at the screen, his expression changing as he saw the name—Elle. Along with the call, a flood of missed messages popped up, all from her.

“Hold on a sec,” Ethan said, holding up a hand to Phoenix as he stepped away from the bar, his tone more serious. “I’ll be right back.”

Ethan answered the phone, his voice warm and familiar. “Hi gorgeous, you okay?”

On the other end, Elle sounded much better than she had earlier that morning. Her voice was soft, relaxed, and it made Ethan’s heart skip just a little. “Yup, I just wanted to see what you wanted to order for dinner? Have you eaten yet?”

Ethan tried to hide the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Phoenix, who was eyeing him with curiosity. “Don’t worry about me tonight, you order what you like. Put it on my card, okay?”

Elle’s laugh filtered through the phone, and Ethan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “Okaay? Why are you being so sweet?”

He grinned to himself, a playful glint in his eyes. “Am I not always sweet?”

“I’d rather not answer that,” Elle teased, a faint smile audible in her tone. “When will you be home?”

Ethan glanced at the clock. 21:04. His thoughts immediately turned to Elle, and the thought of heading home after the chaos of the day felt like a welcome reprieve. “Give me half an hour, I’ll be there.”

“Okay. I love you. See you soon.”

Ethan’s heart warmed at her words, and he allowed himself to indulge in the sentiment for just a moment before responding. “I love you, see you soon.”

As he hung up, he turned to Phoenix, who had a knowing look on his face. Ethan quickly turned away, trying to brush it off, but the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “What?” he muttered, keeping his tone casual as he picked up his drink.

Phoenix says nothing, only smiling for a moment before speaking

“You seem like a lucky man.”

Ethan paused for a moment, his fingers tightening around his glass as he glanced up at Phoenix. The comment, though lighthearted, hit a little closer to home than he expected. He took a slow sip of his drink, trying to keep his expression neutral.

“Maybe,” Ethan replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “But luck doesn’t always have much to do with it.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh?”

Ethan shrugged, setting his glass down. “No, it’s more about timing… and not taking things for granted.” He glanced back at his phone, checking the time again, the weight of the day starting to pull at him. “And knowing what you have when you have it.”

Phoenix studied him for a moment, nodding slowly as if understanding something unspoken. “I guess that makes sense. You seem like a guy who knows what he’s doing.”

Ethan smiled faintly, his thoughts drifting back to Elle. “Sometimes it feels like the hardest part is just holding on to what you’ve got.”

Phoenix gave a half laugh, clearly impressed. “I like your style, Ramsey.”

Ethan gave a quick nod, finishing his drink before standing. “Thanks, Shea. But, duty calls.” He gave the firefighter a nod of acknowledgment, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, go get your lady, Doc,” Phoenix said with a grin. “She sounds like a keeper.”

Ethan’s eyes softened. “She is,” he said quietly, before turning to leave the bar and head home.

[cripple-punk-dad]

i hope you don’t mind this but like i’m 14 (not white, trans, gay, that stuff) and seeing a lot of people talk about how a lot of countries are going far right & extremism is coming back in full swing & no rainbow capitalism, etc is kind of scary. how do i like. not be so scared all the time? i just thought you’d know but if this is a weird ask i totally get it

It is scary. It's downright terrifying, looking out into the world and seeing the pattern of hatred, bigotry, and violence that is feels like its only growing more prevalent. Sometimes it feels like I'm on an island in a huge ocean of people who just want me to die, or change who I am, or both.

Not only that, but being 14 is fucking terrifying. You're not an adult yet, so you can't enact 'real change', you can't even drive (in the U.S) so your transportation is limited. You can't (legally) even get a job or anything. The world has done pretty much everything it can to keep you feeling scared. That's really hard to deal with!

This is usually where I'd say something dramatic, like "don't let them get away with that." But that's easier said than done. And that doesn't really answer your question, either. So instead I'll say this: It's hard to be scared when you 1) know your enemy, and 2) have other things to focus on. I don't mean that you should go debate every conservative you see, or even interact with them. But taking the time to understand the ideologies of fascism, alt-right conservatism, TERFS, white supremacists, etc. not only helps you to see how wrong they are, but also how they always fail and will continue to fail. This is also a good time to research and reinforce your own ideologies and beliefs. No one is immune to propaganda, but it's a lot easier to recognize it if you know what you're looking for.

But don't let that consume you. Remember, these people want you to be scared and isolated. If you spend all your time obsessing over everything wrong with the world (which is very easy with social media and the internet) then the people who want you gone will only grow stronger. So it really is a good idea to fight against that by building up a community of friends, and by building yourself up too. What I mean is this: Go outside, look at the ground, find a weird bug you don't know anything about. Read the obituaries in a newspaper. Go dumpster diving. Learn about something that interests you. Write a letter to somebody and never send it (or do). Pick up a weird hobby. You can just start gluing shit together, no one is gonna stop you, there are a lot less rules than you think.

But above all, remember that while history is full of empires collapsing, and wars, and horrors beyond imagination. The fall of Rome didn't happen overnight, it happened over centuries. But even in the midst of all that, people still made art, and had families, and not only survived, but lived fulfilling lives. I promise that you can and will be able to do that too. The sun will continue to shine, the grass will continue to grow, and the Earth will keep on spinning.

[fleetingcalypso]

I am very sorry to bother you, but a very sweet prompt fleeted into my mind as I prepared myself to come out to my parents, and I'd thought I'd share it in the sheer hope you'd read it, enjoy the thought and perhaps write something based on it, if you're comfortable.

Just imagine, you're very close to Sirius Black (you can choose to which degree, platonically, romantically, interested but not together yet, preferably the last because hehe). You've known for a while you were transgender (FtM) but never had the strength to come out, fearing rejection and alienation from the friend group. Just a sweet little comfort fic because I'm anxious as fuck.

≋ What you're doing is extremely brave, I'm so very proud of you. I wish you the best, friend. Know that whatever goes down, you'll never be judged or rejected here. I'll pray your coming out will be met with love and affection.

≋ Sirius Black x TransMasc!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 2285 words.

≋TW: Dysphoria, Misgendering (not done by Sirius)

Hogwarts seemed intimidating, more than anything. Eleven year old me, sitting in that train, chewing my nails and staring out at the moving scenery, had not the slightest idea that finding friends would be as easy as breathing. At least it is when four troublemakers decide to adopt you into their friend group, barely a week after classes started.

‘The marauders’ they’d call themselves, not so slowly becoming every professor’s nightmare.

They each had something that made them so intriguing. The four of them were attached at the hip, and with me being dragged into their pranks and escapades things only got more entertaining. Even as my house was far away from the castle we studied at, every day I got to spend with them made it feel like I was home, with their jokes and their being able to light up a dull moment with only a couple of words. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter welcomed me in, as one of them.

In the midst of my lowest moments I wondered, would they still accept me if I let my walls down? I sprinkled seeds of the truth here and there: I cut my hair short, I opted for pants instead of the usual skirt, I was at my happiest during winter - when finally I could show off the baggiest of sweaters to conceal the appendages on my chest. It’s not purely a physical discomfort, though. It’s in the little things, small seemingly meaningless moments that no one appears to notice but me. 

People perceive me differently based on how I move even the tiniest of muscles, it is painfully obvious. The boys have never done it, not once, they’ve always treated me as one of them. Never has one of them implied me being weaker, more delicate or called me ‘sweetheart’ in that obnoxious way lots of people do when they’re trying to put me back in my place.

 My head constantly feels underwater with the knowledge that if I were to sit wrong I’d be labeled as a girl, if I walk in a specific way it’ll put attention on my hips, even just standing, unmoving, gives me anxiety. The most insignificant of movements could shoot down the image of me that I want people to see whenever they lay eyes on me.

I feared the worst each time I let my mind tug me into a daydream. Deep down I knew, they’d never turn their back on a friend, but fear nipped at my heels every day. Not only was I hiding who I was from them, but I was lying to their faces about it as well. What hurt me the most, though, was not being able to admit my identity to Sirius.

Sirius Orion Black, he’s been the one that made sure I felt safe around him and the lads. More than once I caught myself being entranced by his words as he let the rest of us know what a nightmare his family life was. He was the total opposite of what his mother wanted him to be, yet that didn’t stop him from being his pure unfiltered self, if anything he enhanced each trait she found disgusting. Sirius wasn’t scared to be his true self, even if it meant going against his blood.

It sparked something in me. My heart has been his, for a long time now.

Sirius, with his raven locks, smooth skin and ever present smirk on his face is the one and only subject of all my dreams. He constantly looks as though he knows everyone’s secrets. The thought makes my stomach twist. When I awake, with the moon still high up in the sky, I almost turn to the pillow beside me, to take a peek at him, they’re that realistic. 

At any rate, if there’s someone that I feel should be the one to know the true me, it is him. I contemplated asking all four of them to meet me, but I don’t think I could rip the bandaid that easily. I want to talk to the one who knows -somewhat- how it feels to have expectations placed on oneself, the one who knows that being someone you’re not is more painful than the Crucio curse itself. Of course our situations are oceans apart: he doesn’t deal with having the need to hide certain parts of my body, or with the numerous wailing moments caused by being born in the wrong body, but I think he'd be the first one to accept me.

I had a whole speech prepared, a letter pages and pages long that I was going to give him, so he could read it without my presence, but as I hear his footsteps approaching me, I can imagine him already. His wand resting behind his ear and tie loosened, hands comfortably and nonchalantly situated in the pockets of his jeans with his luscious hair possibly styled into a bun.

“You’ve been rather gloomy lately, mate.” His foot taps my leg, before he lowers himself to sit next to me. We’ve always enjoyed sitting in the astronomy tower together, in the short span of time between a prank or two. Here, we don’t have to worry about being something else, we’re just humans admiring the stars. In hindsight, I should have figured out he knew I’d be hiding out here, as for my ‘being gloomy’, well, I thought I’d done a good job pretending. Apparently not. It makes me wonder if he’s seen through all of my white lies.

“You know how it is, life is hard.” I turn to him, expecting a silly joke like ‘Life is hard, but I’m harder’, something stupid to cheer me up as he usually does, but said joke never makes it into reality. He’s not even smiling, his lip is caught between his teeth in a clearly troubled look, it doesn’t suit him. No trace of a bun holding his luscious hair in place, what a shame.

“Are you okay though?” He whispers, even if we are the only beating hearts in the room and the sincerity in his voice almost brings me to tears. “I mean it when I say you haven’t been yourself lately.” I haven’t fully been myself for ages, but he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. I’ve been everything but myself. Oh, how many times have I hoped I could just rip my chest apart and rid myself of this body that doesn’t belong to me, before emerging from the depth of it as the man I know I am.

My tongue is threatening me to run faster than my mind. ‘I’m a man’ I want to shout, ‘I have always been a man, from the moment I was born, and I hope you can accept me for what I am.’ It sounds so easy in my head, which is why I hate it more than anything when my throat dries up as soon as I part my lips. His gaze falls to them, but it comes back up to meet my eyes when only a sigh escapes from them.

In being faced with my hesitation he speaks again, a subtle comforting smile on his face, “Hey, I’m not holding you hostage. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it.” His elbow meeting my side in a gentle shove sends my heart ablaze, it is just a simple touch, not even skin on skin, yet it makes my entire body warm up.

“If one day you woke up and saw that you were trapped in a cage, what would you do?” I tentatively ask, testing the waters of the ocean I know I am going to dive in today. My question causes a corner of his lips to tilt upwards, “I’d pick the lock,” He says, as if the solution would be that easy. I foolishly hope it was.

“What if there is no lock to pick? What if you could escape it, but you’d have to face one of the biggest fears in your life in order to do so?” 

His answer, before I can even finish the last syllable, “I’d do it. If it means freedom, I’d do anything. You know it.” His hand rests on my shoulder, I can feel his thumb pressing into my muscles, more than anything I want to hug him and confess my reality with my face hidden in his neck. But I don’t. I’m tired of hiding. My life has turned into a twisted version of hide and seek, where I’m both the seeker and the one hiding. I seek a day where I won’t have to hold back anymore, a day where I’ll be able to use a masculine pronoun without expecting weird looks towards me, yet I hide away in the darkness, afraid of the future, afraid of losing everything I’ve built so far. 

I’ve built mansions, cathedrals, palaces with precarious foundations and I think the time has come to fix that. 

“What’s with all the philosophical talk today? Cages and fears and whatnot. Is it a new idea for a prank? Because if it is you need to hear one James had just a while ago-”

“I’ve been lying to you, Sirius.” I confess with the taste of bile in the back of my throat. The letter I had prepared and read so many times I’d memorized it sits deep in the pockets of my pants, I’m running on no script and no idea of where this conversation will bring us. I have no patience to hear what he might say, so I don’t even stop to breathe before I speak again.

“I’ve been lying to all of you, even to myself at times. I want to preface this by saying that I understand if this is confusing to you, or if you don’t understand where this is coming from but I am not the girl you boys befriended all those years ago. I’ve never been a girl, not once, but this doesn’t mean I’ve been faking to be your friend. I’m still the friend that helped you get out of detention, I’m still the friend that sent professors down the wrong hallway when they would ask for you mid prank preparation, I’m still the friend that would do your essays for you in exchange for part of your food at lunch. I’m still your friend, just not the friend you thought you had.” The words flow out like a river overflowing, it is only as I say the last word that I notice the tears rolling down my cheeks, “I’m not a girl,” I say again, my voice cracking in a sob, “I’m a guy.” 

The grip he had on my shoulder tightens for a moment before he lets out the loudest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard, “By Merlin’s beard, you scared me half to death there.” His other hand rests on his chest, most likely trying to relax his beating heart that, if it’s pounding half the speed of mine, then it must be fighting tooth and nail to escape his ribcage. Something halfway through another sigh and a chuckle comes from him as his head shakes, “So, you’re a bloke, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

I nod, swallowing the gulp stuck in my throat, I can’t force myself to make a sound. The arm wrapping itself around my shoulder and pulling me into Sirius takes me by surprise, “You were always one of the lads, mate.” He says, grinning ear to ear, “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine this was easy for you…” The weight on my back does not abandon me completely, it is only the tiniest amount lighter. The first step is taken, there is no going back, little by little he’ll be able to uncover all of me. One small step at a time. Now it is no time to let him know how the only things I smelled while brewing amortentia was his cologne, butterbeer and the occasional cigarette. 

I don’t know what else to say, it feels like I just lept from a flying broom awaiting contact with the ground, but the crash never comes, my bones never break and no absurd pain breaks through me. “Thank you for still being here.” I choke out. His thumb runs over the corners of my eyes, the silver rings on his fingers graze my hot skin, “Thank you for telling me.” He repeats, dragging my body closer to his in a warm hug, “I want you to know, telling the others, that’s your choice. I won’t say a word. There’s no rush. I’ll even hold your hand while you do it.”

I melt in his arms. His last remark, as teasing as it was, is enough to pull a smile out of me. “I’ll make sure to let you know whenever I’m ready so you can wash your hands first. Who knows what you’ve touched.”

“Wow, rude much.” Sirius holds me for what feels like a lifetime. They say Hogwarts is the safest place there is, but I think I’ve found a worthy adversary to that claim. We don’t say anything, I said my piece and he listened. That’s all that was important. One day I’m going to have to tell James, Remus and Peter as well, but that can wait for now. The worst is done. 

“Do you feel a little more free now?” He murmurs in my ear, “Has that cage began to feel like something you could escape from?”

“Yes.” And I mean it when I say it. The future looks brighter than it ever has.

[writersblockedx]

Criminals and Crows

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader Summary - For the Crow's next job, they're in need of a pirate; Kaz tracks down you. But despite being the man to hire you, he's having a hard time trusting you. Warnings - mentions of violence, alcohol, sickness, I have no idea how ships work but I did my best at writing it. Words - 3.1K

Masterlist

There weren't many people Kaz Brekker trusted. In fact, when he thought on it, there was about zero people in which he trusted. Everyone he strung into his heists were a risk. He just made logical, pragmatic decisions on choosing who posed least threat. For awhile, that had consisted of Jesper and Inej. But with their newest heist, they were going to need a little more manpower than just the trio. More importantly, they were going to need a ship and a captain. In short, Kaz was going to need a pirate.

Through searching all of Ketterdamn, he located the least risk. Though, still a great risk: You.

Living in Ketterdamn meant you knew all about Kaz Brekker. And quite honestly, the stories told of him made sure you stayed away from his schemes and his need to fill his pockets with kruge. But he certainly knew how to make a deal.

"200 kruge." He had offered.

You looked at him through narrow eyes. In the midst of the Crow Club (something you too had consciously steered away from), you sat across from the man. The black sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his brows menacing as he slicked his hair back from his face. He was leaning as far back in his chair as he could, not making a move other than his lips. But you moved forward. Your elbows hit the woods of the table which was situated between the two of you. "You've told me nothing. I can't agree to anything yet." You scoffed at the way the man was playing this.

His eyes gave a glare but you doubted he didn't ever drop such glare. "You'll get more information when I know you're on board with this." He planned.

"I don't even know how far I'm taking you."

"As far as 200 kruge is worth." He said before standing abruptly, taking his cane back into his hold. But he didn't turn. Not right away. His glare burned down onto you as you stared up at him, trying to work out the thoughts which were stringing together in his mind. "I need an answer by dawn." With that, he left.

You stayed glued to that table in the Crow Club for the remainder of the night. Nursing a pint of ale, running through what was to gain by working with Kaz Brekker. And honestly, the decision to turn up the next day had come from a feeling of curiosity rather than searching for the need for another job. You had enough contenders when it came looking for kruge - but this was drowning in enigma, reeling you in like a fish a hook and you couldn't seem to resist.

Within six hours, as dawn hit and the sun danced in the sky once again, the Crow Club was nowhere near as busy. In fact, it was empty. Well, apart from the three figures that were crowded around a small table, papers littered between them. For a moment, you watched from afar, wondering if you might be able to catch word of their schemes. But you had failed. It didn't take long, just a footstep too loud for Inej to snap around. Her eyes gazed over you, narrow just like the way you looked to Kaz the night before; trying to figure you out.

Her head lifted as the two boys turned their heads to look at her. No one said anything at first but the air seemed filled with unspoken words. Then Kaz dragged himself up to his feet, "You came." He observed.

You didn't reply straight away. Instead, you took the next step down, continuing your walk across to where the trio were crowded. And you didn't say anything until your feet stopped, right in front of them. "A job's a job," You paused, jolting your gaze to Inej and Jesper. "Right?"

Kaz was watching you with careful eyes like he was watching a predator; one of which was unpredictable. And when you wandered around the table, passing Inej and Jesper, he didn't stop you. Your eyes danced between the papers, head tilted as you attempted to connect the dots in front of you. No one stopped you. So you reached your hand out, grasping one of them which provided you with the most information. "Erm," Called Jesper as he watched you. "Is she allowed to look at them?" He gazed back at his boss who gave no indication of not, so you continued.

You found yourself picking up a map with a red circle drawn around a certain town, "Caryeva?" You read the town out. And then you looked up, meeting directly with the eyes of Kaz Brekker. "That's where you want to go. Why?"

"It doesn't matter why, your job is to get us there." The man argued.

A huff fell from your lips as you dropped the paper back to the table, "You said I'd get more information when I was on board with this." You recalled.

Kaz gestured his hand to the paper you had just dropped, "That was your information." He said. "And from what I've heard, you don't quite possess much of a moral standing so I doubt it would matter if we told you our intentions or not." He went on - something of which you couldn't argue against. So, instead, you kept quiet. He took a step forward, facing you between the table with Inej and Jesper still lazily sat, looking up at the two like a fight was about to break out. Kaz reached for his pocket, pulling out a sachel. A heavy sachel which clanked against the wood of the table when it dropped. "That's 100. You'll get the rest when the job is done and you're still alive."

You didn't need to say anything; your glare did it all. But Kaz turned his back with that, walking away as you watched. And for a long moment, you stood there, gazing between the sachel and the empty space where Kaz had been standing. Both Inej and Jesper were awaiting what decision you made. They didn't quite care if they were honest. They needed a captain (and the ship that came with them), but that didn't exactly mean they needed you. But alas, your hand reached out, taking the kruger and leaving the Crow Club to await further instructions.

Kaz had planned to leave that night; dark and cloudy where their dark shadows couldn't be caught heading towards the docks where you were waiting. And their friendly welcome was no different. They each wore straight lines for smiles and held their hands like they were shaking to reach for a weapon.

"We all ready?" Kaz asked as he came right to the ship where you lingered in front of.

You glanced to Jesper and Inej who were holding boxes of Saints knows what, "All ready for Caryeva. For whatever it is you need to do that you won't tell me." It was a jab that hadn't all that much bothered any of them. They would much rather keep quiet than risk having their plans leaked by a captain who couldn't keep their mouths shut. But you took a step to the side, gesturing your hand for them to step on. "All aboard." You said through a dull tone as Kaz stepped on first, his cane hitting the wood of the ship with a thud. Inej followed and then Jesper who provided a salute - the only significant sign of a welcome you had gathered so far.

The trio were very much not used to ships, to sea, to the rocking and turning. When you got onto the boat yourself, you found that a glimpse of the trio was comparable to a bunny on a battle field. This wasn't their territory and it was so very obvious. "Sleeping quarters are down there," You pointed to the left where a hatch in the floor led to the rooms underground. "Front of the ship, Captain's quarters, my quarters, are here." With that, you gestured to the front of the boat where a door led to the wheel of the ship, the driver, the navigator, the captain.

The ship wasn't a huge one that was certain, but it would get this job done. Whatever that job was of course. They dropped their boxes and you unhooked the ropes which kept the ship tied to the dock. You weren't brought away from such task until a voice spoke up, "And where exactly would one be able to find the liquor on this ship?" You turned, finding Jesper wandering a few steps towards you, eyes bright and hungry for the drink he seemed in need of. "That is, assuming there is any, of course."

You looked down over at the man, the rope hanging from your grip, "That would be in the captain's quarter." You informed.

"Jesper," Came another voice, almost like a warning. "Aren't you going to be a bit busy?" Inej was pointing to the box the boy had just dropped. There was a glint in her eye, irritated in a sense, matching the warning which had littered her tone.

But Jesper didn't seem all that bothered by the girl's words. In fact, he shrugged, already walking towards the captain's quarters. "We've got time." He concluded. "Have one drink with me, please!"

Inej sighed, dropped her box, joining the boy as they slipped into the captain's quarters. Like that, your focus was drawn back to the ropes, unhooking them all before returning to the main deck where Kaz was already watching you. "Is that okay?" He asked.

You looked to him, brow raised, "What?"

His head nodded to the room across from you, where Jesper and Inej had just entered. "Jesper and Inej." He answered.

"Oh, yeah, fine." A smile graced your lips as to offer more assurance in that. "Might loosen their lips a little, find out what you crows are up to." It was a joke but Kaz wasn't laughing. However, your words had seemed to break that stern expression which seemed stuck to his face.

"Well, I guess I won't be drinking your pirate liquor then." He said; his voice so low it had almost been a whisper, his breath brushing against your skin.

And you returned the favour as you spoke in the same whisper, "You don't know what you're missing out on." Your smile twisted into a smirk. One which clung to playfulness and bathed in mischief. And Kaz seemed utterly entranced by such, his gaze seeming to lock onto your eyes like he was holding onto your hand as he hung over a cliff.

You started walking back, going to join the two crows in the captain's quarters. Your head flipped back around when you came to note Kaz wasn't trailing behind. "You're not gonna stay out here by yourself, are you?" With one brow raised, it seemed to convince him.

The room was centred around the wheel which looked out the front of the ship. Maps were scattered everywhere, on counters which lined the walls and the main map table which was situated behind the steering wheel. The room was lit by one hanging light which was known to swing dependent on the steadiness of the tide. And as Jesper had so effortlessly got his fingers on: the liquor cabinet. Filled with fine wines and ales you had collected over your years of travelling. All of which was now being poured into the cup of a crow.

Jesper fell into the Captain's chair, swinging his legs up onto the map table as if he were at home. A sigh left his lips, "You know, maybe sea travel isn't all that bad." He observed, letting his eyes flutter close.

"That's because we haven't started moving yet." You explained, shoving his legs from the table with a gentle push while making your way behind the wheel. "Hope none of you get sea sick." And with that, you manoeuvred the boat as well as possible for a captain with no crew.

Inej took a seat across from Jesper. And, unlike he, she didn't swing her legs on top of the map table like it were a footrest. "Yeah, I don't really think drinking is gonna help with the sea sickness." She critiqued.

Jesper shrugged, the cup hovering right by his lips. "The consequences of my own actions." Like that, like it was such a spilt second matter, he took a long hard swig of the liquor. It seemed everyone but Jesper could see how this was going to end.

An hour or so had passed and you swore the boy was turning green. But he pushed through his facade, trying to keep it up until he physically couldn't. His body was swaying against the tide and he hadn't dared take any more drink from the cup. When he went to stand, it was abrupt and because of such, he had so easily almost fallen flat on his face "Woah!" He sung as Inej's hands trapped onto his shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady.

"I told you." The girl seethed, forced to keep him upright. Then she turned to you, "Where's the sleeping quarters?"

You nodded from behind the wheel, "Across the main deck, down on the bottom." And like that, the two were whisked away, leaving Kaz and yourself to your devices.

It was suddenly deathly silent. The sound of Jesper uneasy groans that once echoed the room were now absent. Instead, it was the silent tension that resided between the two of you. You had caught a glance of the man, watching as he ached over the papers in front of him. You couldn't work out if the boy was stressed or if this was his natural position. To combat the silence, you gambled your safety in speaking up, "You okay?" Surely that could do no harm.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

A huff fell from his lips as he shot the paper from his hands, "Because of Jesper's choice to get black-out drunk, it's left me to do what he was meant to." He explained, irritation dripping from his tongue.

You watched him through narrowed eyes. Just like the first time; trying to figure him out. And when you gambled your safety more, you dared to draw closer to him. "I could always help." You offered as his eyes finally fell to your figure. "Unless, of course, you don't trust me for anything other than getting you there and back."

A long moment passed. One in which you could tell Kaz was weighing up his options, working out whether this was a safe option. When the moment passed, he shoved a small wooden box across to you. "We need at least five grenades."

You tried your best to not look shocked, but you had failed in doing such. "Grenades?" You reiterated, peeking inside the box which was waiting in front of you.

Kaz looked to you, a glint in his eyes that you couldn't quite work out. "Who did you think you were working with?" Suppose he made a good point.

You glanced back at the box. Then you took one glimpse of Kaz, still bent over those papers and this planning which needed perfecting by the time they made it to the docks. With that, your hand reached in, taking the parts of the weapon which need constructing. Without a word, you did it, moulding the parts together to create some deathly weapon you had no idea were being used for. After the second one was finished, your curiosity was killing you. You checked Kaz first, checking it was safe to push this very distinct line he had drawn. But you decided to push to it. "What are the grenades for?"

He stopped. His whole body seemed to pause before he gazed over at you. "What are they usually used for?" There was still a snap in his tone but you assumed it was rare it ever left the tip of his tongue. But you took that as your answer and dipped your head back to the task at hand. Kaz had watched you. And when you came back with no quipped reply, he knew he should probably say something. And as a long moment passed and you started to accept that Kaz Brekker's friendship was not something you were about to gain, he broke the silence. "They're gonna be a distraction." He informed.

You looked up, finding his eyes already trailing you. With one brow quirked, you said, "So you're not killing people then?" You queried.

Kaz's head shook, "No. Though, I can't promise that Inej won't stab someone in the wrong place."

You dropped the equipment back in the box, letting your palms grip against the table as you stared over at the man. "And who are you distracting?" By the change in his expression, it looked as if he were hesitant. "Look, I've come this far, you may as well tell me. Even if I wanted to betray your stupid plan, three against one? I'm not that stupid."

Those words seemed to prompt something. Kaz stood from his chair, wandering around the table until he came only inches from you. "Someone stole from me." He finally informed.

"And you're going after them?" You questioned. "What'd they steal? A few knives? Some ale?"

"Doesn't matter what they stole." He told you. "You have to make an example of people."

Your head tilted, finding that this was the closest to the man you had ever been. And for some reason, that fact had erupted a swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Ever so close that if something were to-

The tide shifted the ship. Just a wave. But a wave which was hard enough to shift your feet as you tumbled forward. In a moment, Kaz had a hand around you and you had a hand steady on his chest. The wave passed and you steadied yourself. But neither of you dropped your touch. Instead, your eyes slowly dragged to meet his gaze which was already situated on you. And like something was washing over you, a gut instinct, you leaned in. You leaned right into his lips as they met. Such a sweet, soft kiss which had seemed to encompass the tension which had only been building since you first laid eyes on Kaz Brekker.

[mcntsee]

Letters to her

prologue

summary: kaz’s letter to y/n throughout the years.

warnings: Kaz’s past is kinda mentioned, mentions of death, cursing

note: I tried to express kaz’s feelings and growth with every start and finish of all the letters, hopefully you guys understand it too. I added a little something at the end, hope you enjoy! <3333

first letter:

Deer y/n

My da said you can came come play wheneber you want to come play with my me again can you please come play with me soon pleas?

I miss you and Jordie miss and da and the little kitteny miss you we all misses you very much

Love Kaz!

(I drawed a pist picture of you and me and spots playing)

2nd letter

Dear Y/N,

I hope you're doing okay. I wanted to say a big thank you for being there when we said bye to my da. It made me feel better knowing you were there, even though it was kinda sad.

Guess what? Jordie said we're gonna move to Ketterdam. He says it's cause he wants me to go to a good school there. I'm not sure about leaving this house, but Jordie says it'll be good for us.

The cool part is that you live in Ketterdam! That means we can hang out more and play together. Remember when we used to build forts in the living room and pretend we were pirates? Maybe we can do that in Ketterdam too.

I'll miss this house a bit because it's where we played hide and seek and had ice cream parties, but I think Ketterdam will be fun too. And I'm really happy cause we'll get to see each other more often!

I will see you soon, okay?

Love, Kaz!

3rd letter

Dear y/n,

I'm really, really sorry I haven't come to see you yet. It's not 'cause I don't want to, I promise. You're still my bestest friend ever. It's just that things got a little crazy since we arrived.

Jordie met this guy named Jacob Hertzoon. And guess what? Jacob offered us a whole bunch of money for our house! Jordie said it's a really good thing 'cause we can use the money for important stuff. But it also means we're super busy.

I didn't want you to think I forgot about you or anything. I miss you a lot and I still want to see you and play together. Maybe once we're all settled in our new place and get the money, we can have a big adventure like we used to.

Thanks for being the best friend ever. I promise we'll hang out soon, okay?

Love, Kaz!

4th letter

Y/N,

Are you okay? Please write back! Jordie is gone. I need to know you're alive.

Kaz.

5th letter

Y/N,

I heard you went on quite the journey to Shu Han just to retrieve my cane. I assume the trip was bearable. Your efforts are appreciated.

It's curious how life unfolds, isn't it? One day we're children playing in the streets, the next we're scattered across the world for various reasons. Yet, here we are, still connected by some thread of familiarity.

I imagine you'll return from your expedition when the time is right. Until then, business with the dregs continues as usual. The city keeps turning, and so do its dealings. As for me, well, I have my own matters to attend to as soon as I’m able to walk again.

- K.B.

First note

Get well soon! Let me know if you need anything else.

- Love, Y/n!

6th letter

Y/N,

Your letter reached me, and I must admit, it contained more substance than I anticipated. Word travels fast in the Barrel, and it seems that Haskell has taken quite an interest in your recent endeavors. His words carry weight, though they seldom come without a price.

If his assessment holds true, and you manage to prove your worth in the upcoming job, it could indeed elevate you within the ranks. Haskell’s recognition of your potential is both promising and concerning. The higher one climbs, the more treacherous the fall can be.

In the midst of this, know that I await your return.

May you navigate these challenges with the same tenacity that has carried you thus far. I wish you the best of luck, Y/N. Tread carefully.

- K.B

7th letter

Y/N,

You certainly have a talent for uncovering promising recruits. Jesper Fahey. The word on the street is that he’s got a steady aim that’s worth noticing. The skills he possesses could indeed be valuable, particularly in the line of work we find ourselves engaged in.

However, I must tread cautiously when it comes to individuals entangled in debts and vices. Jesper Fahey, from what I’ve heard, is no stranger to gambling. His tendency to wager recklessly has garnered quite a reputation, one that isn’t entirely favorable. The loyalty of a man buried under the weight of debts is a precarious matter. Whether his skills can outweigh the burden of his choices remains to be seen.

Your perspective on recruits is valued, and I’ll certainly keep a watchful eye on Fahey. I trust your judgment, and I’m willing to entertain the possibility. In the midst of all this, remember that your return is anticipated and your presence missed.

Return safely,

K.B.

8th letter

Y/N,

Do you remember Jesper? It’s almost comical how, after discussing him in my last letter, fate seemed to conspire to validate our conversation. Not long after I sent those words to you, I found myself intervening to prevent Jesper from getting himself thoroughly thrashed due to his gambling debts.

I hope I’ve made the right call by extending a hand to Jesper. It’s a calculated risk, one that I’m hoping will pan out in our favor. There’s potential there, no doubt, but potential doesn’t always translate into reliability.

This letter is short, I know, but I will tell you more about it when you come back.

Stay safe,

K.B

9th letter

Y/n,

It’s been days since your last communication, and the weight of uncertainty presses heavily on me. The quiet absence of your presence has stirred an unease I’m not accustomed to.

I’ve seen you handle insane odds, and I know you’re more than capable. But here I am. My mind keeps wandering to places I’d rather it not go, imagining scenarios that could have unfolded, and none of them are sitting well with me.

I hope that this silence is a result of strategic detachment, that you’re immersed in the intricacies of the job and haven’t had a moment to spare for correspondence.

I’m not accustomed to this vulnerability, nor do I care for it. Yet, here I am, plagued by the absence of information. I ask you, if you’re able, to dispel this uncertainty. A simple message, a token of reassurance – anything to quell this rising tide of apprehension.

I await word from you with an intensity I hadn’t thought possible. May it come soon.

Expectantly,

K.B

10th letter

Y/N,

I received the coat you sent, and I must admit, it's a rare occasion when I'm at a loss for words. It's unlike anything I would've chosen for myself, yet somehow, it feels surprisingly fitting. I can't deny its utility either – I appreciate it.

Jesper and Nina have managed to cultivate a special talent for driving me to the brink of exasperation. Their camaraderie is both amusing and bewildering, a chaotic symphony that I'm still attempting to decipher.

Today was no different. Jesper's antics at the club bordered on audacious, and Nina's unbridled laughter was enough to turn heads in our direction. As I tried to navigate the sea of chaos they create, I found myself, unusually, yearning for a return to some semblance of normalcy.

I must confess, the prospect of your return holds an allure I hadn't anticipated. There's a steadiness in your presence, an understanding that's often a rare commodity in these tumultuous times. The chaos, the hustle – they feel more manageable when you're around.

Till then, I'll persevere in the sea of antics that Jesper and Nina stir up, counting down the days until your return.

Until then,

Kaz

11th letter

Y/N,

Your mention of the jurda parem caught my attention, no doubt about it. It’s a name that carries weight, and I’ve got a feeling we’re treading on some dangerous ground here. It’s the kind of thing that’s best left untouched until we’ve got a better handle on what it entails.

Listen, I won’t preach, but I’ve got to say it – be careful and keep an eye out for trouble. The city’s not known for being kind to those who don’t tread carefully, and I’d hate to see you caught in something you didn’t see coming.

I’ve got a job for you. One that’s right up your alley. It’s always better discussing these things face to face, so when you can, make your way back. The sooner, the better.

Until then,

Kaz

12th letter

Y/N,

I’ve never been one for words, as you well know. My tongue seems to have a mind of its own, often saying the wrong things at the wrong time. And when it comes to matters like these, I’ve found that my eloquence takes a swift exit.

So, here I am, writing this letter in hopes that the words come out right, that they somehow capture what I’m feeling. I’ve spent years navigating the intricacies of this city, and yet the complexities of my own emotions have managed to elude me.

I’ve always valued our connection, from those early days of childhood mischief to the present. You’ve been a constant in my life, someone whose presence brings a sense of order to the chaos that surrounds us. And somewhere along the way, that bond transformed into something deeper, something I’ve been grappling with.

I find myself wanting to say more, to articulate the thoughts that remain half-formed in my mind. But it’s difficult, Y/N, and this letter might be the best I can manage.

What I’m trying to say is that you’ve become more than a friend, more than a partner in crime. There’s a depth to my feelings that I’m only beginning to understand. And if I’m being truly honest, I’d like to explore where this path might lead.

I understand if you need time, if my sudden candor is a lot to process. But I wanted to put these thoughts down, to let you know where my heart is at. And if you’re open to it, if you’ve felt even a fraction of what I’ve been feeling, then maybe we can navigate this new terrain together.

Kaz.

Second note

I’d like to explore where this path might lead too.

Love, y/n!

13th letter

Y/N,

I can't thank you enough for stepping in when I couldn't. I hope the contractor in Lij wasn’t hard to handle.

Now, I have a proposal of a different kind. How about we put our skills to use in a more relaxed setting? I'd like to take you out to dinner. No heists, no secret dealings, just you and me, navigating the menu instead of the back alleys.

I've made reservations for us at a place that's a bit more reputable than the Barrel's taverns. Consider it a step toward normalcy, a chance to enjoy an evening without looking over our shoulders.

Looking forward to your return,

Kaz

14th letter

Dear Y/N,

Your letter reached me, and I've got to say, the way you put it into words – how much you miss me – it hits home. The distance is a constant reminder of the warmth I've grown accustomed to, and I find myself missing you more than I thought possible.

This job is driving me insane, and my thoughts often wander back to Ketterdam, back to you. It's like a pull, a magnetic force that tugs me back to the life we've been building together.

I bought something with me – a box of those chocolates you can't seem to get enough of. The catch? I'm hoping they survive the journey and don't turn into a gooey mess.

I want you to know that with every sunrise and sunset that passes, I'm getting more restless to return to the city that's been our canvas, our backdrop. Until then, my thoughts are with you, and I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can wrap my arms around you again.

With all my longing,

Kaz

3rd note

I apologize, it seems the chocolates didn’t fare too well. I hope they’re still somewhat salvageable and that they manage to satisfy your sweet tooth.

- Kaz

15th letter

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you on the mend, wrapped in warmth and taking good care of yourself. It pains me to know you're unwell while I'm away, unable to offer even the smallest comfort.

My love, get well soon. I miss your laughter, your presence – they're a part of my life I can't bear to be without for long. The distance feels heavier when I know you're not well.

Today, during the heist, I saw a small brown cat with delicate white spots. The sight of it was like a reminder of simpler times, of moments when things were less complex. It stirred memories of my old cat "Spots," whose antics used to provide a reprieve from the realities of the Barrel.

As I look around, I find myself yearning for the day when I'll return to Ketterdam. Until then, my thoughts are with you, my love. Rest well, recover soon, and know that I will be there soon.

With all my affection,

Kaz

16th letter

Dearest Y/N,

There are times in life when words are inadequate, when even the most eloquent phrases fall short of capturing the depth of one's emotions. Today is one such day, and I find myself grappling with a sentiment that defies my usual precision.

I love you, Y/N. There, I've said it, though the words seem almost insufficient to convey the weight of my feelings. You've woven your presence into the very fabric of my being, and I find that I'm navigating uncharted territory, stumbling upon emotions that have long remained dormant.

In a world marked by uncertainties, you've become my constant, the one I turn to when the winds of the Barrel grow fierce. I cherish our bond, our shared history, and the future we're forging together.

As the days pass, my conviction only grows stronger. You've touched a part of me I thought was unreachable, and I find myself grateful for the warmth you've brought into my life.

Love,

Kaz

4th note

I love you too, more than words can express.

- Love, y/n!

17th letter

My Love,

I've stumbled upon something while on my trip to Lij, a revelation that caught me by surprise. My old house is up for sale. I confess, it's a notion that's been hovering in the back of my mind, a possibility I've been toying with.

And then, as if fate had a hand to play, it occurred to me – what if we made it our own? Y/N, would you consider it? The thought of creating new memories in a space that's intertwined with my past is something that holds a certain allure. A place where we could carve out our own sanctuary, away from the schemes and chaos that surround us.

If this notion speaks to you, let me know. It's a step I'd only take with you, a shared decision that would mark a new chapter in our journey together.

Love,

Kaz

18th letter

This is to certify that Y/N L/N and Kaz Brekker is (are) now registered as the absolute proprietor(s) of the land comprised in the above-mentioned title, subject to the entries in the register relating to the land and to such of the overriding interests set out in section 30 of the Registered Land Act as may for the time being subsist and affect the land.

Kaz Brekker __________

19th letter

My love Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, even though I’m far away in Shu Han. I wanted to share something with you – I stumbled upon the perfect dining table. It’s a piece that seems to embody the essence of what we’ve built together, a symbol of the life we’re crafting, even from a distance.

As I stand here, thousands of miles away, my thoughts are never far from Ketterdam, from you. Every corner of the city is a reminder of our shared journey, of the future we’re molding. And with every passing day, I find myself longing to return, to be by your side again.

The plans we’ve made, the dreams we’ve spun – they’re a driving force, propelling me forward through the challenges that Shu Han presents. I promise you, Y/N, I’ll be back soon enough.

Until then, know that you’re in my thoughts, my heart, every moment of the day.

With all my affection,

Kaz

20th letter

Love,

I’ve come across some interesting information that might be of use to you. It seems that there’s a rumor circulating about a certain merchant in the Fifth Harbor. This merchant, it’s said, has been trying to make deals with both the Merchants Council and the Whitecrows, something that has my interest piqued.

I’ve also managed to uncover some details about a potential source of counterfeit currency that might be making its way into the hands of certain unsavory individuals. The source, surprisingly, seems to be tied to a printing press hidden away in the Barrel. It’s a curious development, one that could have far-reaching consequences.

And finally, I’ve received word that a shipment of goods has gone missing from a storage warehouse near the docks. This might not seem significant at first glance, but it’s the timing that intrigues me. A missing shipment, coupled with the merchant’s deals and the counterfeit currency – it’s all connected, I’m certain of it.

Stay vigilant, stay cautious. And know that even in the midst of our separate tasks, you’re in my thoughts.

I miss you, and I love you.

Love,

Kaz

21st letter

Y/N,

Listen to me, and listen carefully. You need to come back to Ketterdam, now. What you walked into, it was a trap – calculated, deliberate. I can’t explain it all in this letter, but trust me when I say your safety is in jeopardy.

I don’t care what you’re in the middle of, what plan you’re executing – drop it, and make your way back. I can’t lose you, not now, not like this. The threat is real, and the longer you stay where you are, the more danger you’re in.

I’m begging you, Y/N, hurry back. We can sort through the details, I’ll explain everything, but right now, all that matters is your safety. Don’t delay, don’t second-guess. Just come back.

Kaz

22nd letter

Love,

I’m pleading with you, begging you to reach out, to let me know you’re safe. This silence, it’s a torment I can’t bear. Every thought is tinged with worry, and I find myself grappling with scenarios that are far too grim.

I don’t care about the details, the reasons – they pale in comparison to my overwhelming need to know you’re okay. We’ve faced down darkness together, navigated treacherous waters, and I can’t accept the idea of you being lost in the midst of it all.

Please, Y/N, come back to Ketterdam. If you’re reading this, if you’re anywhere, find a way to let me know you’re alive. I’ll make sense of the rest later. Just, my love, come back to me.

Kaz

23rd letter

Y/N,

I can’t wait any longer. The silence is a weight on my chest, a suffocating reminder of the unknown. I’ve agonized, I’ve begged, and still, there’s no word from you. It’s time I take matters into my own hands.

Please, hold on. I’m coming. I hope you’re okay, I hope you’re just out of reach, waiting for me to catch up. It’s a risk I have to take.

I love you.

Stay strong, my love. I’m on my way.

24th letter

My Dearest Y/N,

It's been a week since you left us, a week of darkness and aching emptiness that nothing can fill. I know you won't get this letter, that these words will remain suspended in the void, but I find myself needing to put them down, needing to release the feelings that have taken hold of me.

The pain is suffocating, a weight that's settled into my bones. I still can't grasp the reality, can't accept that you're gone, that your light has been extinguished. It's a void that stretches beyond comprehension, a void I'm stumbling through.

The memories are a double-edged sword. They're a balm, a reminder of the moments we shared, of your laughter, your warmth. But they're also a blade, a reminder of what's been taken from us, of the future that was stolen away.

I want you to know, even though you'll never read these words – I love you. I always have, and I always will. You were more than a partner, more than a confidant. You were my anchor, my solace, my reason to keep pushing forward.

It's impossible to fathom life without you, Y/N. Your absence leaves a void that can never be filled. I can only hope that wherever you are, you're at peace, free from the pain that's gripped my heart.

Until we meet again, my love,

Kaz

25th letter

My dearest Y/N,

Six months have passed, and the ache of your absence has only deepened. The city, our city, is a different place without you. The crows, the ones you brought together, are slowly finding their separate paths, their separate destinies. It's as if the world itself is reshaping in your absence.

I found the little box where you kept all those letters. Your letters, my words – I'm surprised, in a way, that you kept them all. It's a piece of you that I'll treasure forever.

It's in these moments of solitude that I find myself yearning for your presence the most. Your laughter, your insights – they're still very much alive in my memories, and they continue to guide me through the labyrinthine twists of this world.

I miss you, Y/N. More than words can say. The void you left behind is as vast as the Barrel itself, and there's a hollowness that's impossible to fill. I can only hope that, wherever you are, you've found the peace that eluded you in life.

Until the next time we meet, my love,

Kaz

26th letter

My Dearest Y/N,

Time has continued its relentless march, and two years have slipped through my grasp since you left us. The city, once our canvas, has taken on a different hue, a different weight. The crows have scattered, their paths diverging, and the life we built together feels like a distant memory.

I wanted to share something with you – I've made a decision about the house, the one that once held the echoes of our shared history. It's a decision born out of the reality that without you, it's ceased to be a home. The walls, the rooms – they're empty without your presence, and it's a stark reminder of what's been lost.

Putting it up for sale again, it's not just about letting go of a physical space. It's about acknowledging that our time together, our shared moments, live on in memories, not in bricks and mortar. I carry you with me, always, but it's time to release the hold the house had on me.

Life continues to move forward, though it's a path I tread with a shadow that can never be dispelled. I hope, wherever you are, you've found the peace that eluded you in life. And I hope, wherever I am, you're watching over me, your presence a guiding light through the darkness.

With a heart full of love,

Kaz

27th letter

My dearest,

It's been almost three years, and some days it feels like it was just yesterday when I last saw you. I miss you, fuck, I miss you so much. It's like this gaping hole, this emptiness that can't be filled. No matter how many schemes I plan, no matter how many crows I put to work, it's like there's this void that's always there.

I was gonna do it, you know? I was gonna ask you. I got this ring, this small little thing that I bought just a month before you fucking died. It's funny, you know, I never thought I'd be the one to feel this way, to want something that much, to want to stake a claim in this shithole of a world.

But I guess that's what you did to me. You turned this cold, calculating schemer into someone who wanted more, who wanted you. I'm sorry I didn't ask you sooner, that I waited, that I let time slip through my fingers like sand. I'm sorry I couldn't be the one you deserved.

You were my light, Y/N. You shined a light into my darkest corners, and now that you're gone, it's like the shadows have returned with a vengeance. I need you, I need you so fucking much it's like a knife in my gut every damn day.

I don't know where you are, what's out there after this life, but I hope you're somewhere better. I hope you're at peace, and I hope you know that I'm here, waiting in this shithole, missing you every fucking day.

I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much it hurts. And I wish... I wish I could've showed it more when you were still here.

With all my shattered pieces,

Kaz

28th letter

Deer Y/N,

This will be the last letter I write to you, and as I put pen to paper, I’m filled with a mixture of emotions that words could never truly capture. The passage of time has been unkind, separating us by years that have felt both fleeting and eternal.

It’s strange, the way grief works. It’s a steady ache that never truly fades, an ache I’ve grown accustomed to carrying. There’s an emptiness in my heart that’s become a part of me, a void that can never be filled by anyone or anything else.

I’ve learned to navigate this world without you, though it’s been a journey fraught with challenges and moments of unbearable pain. There’s a longing, a yearning, that can never be quenched. You were my constant, the force that kept me grounded, and now that you’re gone, there’s a piece of me that will forever remain incomplete.

As time marches on, I find myself grappling with a heartbreaking reality – the sound of your voice is fading from my memory. The way you felt, the touch of your hand in mine, it’s becoming harder to recall. It’s as though the vibrant details of your presence are slipping through my fingers, leaving behind a hazy impression.

And oh, Y/N, the thought that your laughter will never again reach my ears, it’s a pain that reverberates through my very being. Your face, once etched in my mind with unparalleled clarity, is beginning to blur around the edges. The little details that I once treasured, the nuances that made you uniquely you, they’re slipping away, like grains of sand carried by the wind.

I love you, Y/N. Those words have become a mantra, a whispered refrain that echoes in the corners of my mind. I carry your memory with me, every step of the way, and I hold onto the hope that, wherever you are, you’ve found the peace that eluded you in life.

As I place this letter alongside the others, a part of me hopes that somehow, somewhere, you’ll receive these words, that you’ll know that you were loved, that you’re still loved, even in your absence.

I miss you, “we all misses you very much.”

Love, Kaz!

[limbuscompanysituations]

Now I'm your "pretty please anon". I would like to see a situation where everyone in the unit decided to celebrate something and get drunk. Maybe even Vergil? The only sober ones are Dante and Charon, because Charon is driving, and Dante just can't (but they really wants to). pretty please

An important clarification, if you can write this as a situation, not as headcanons (if you find it difficult, then choose the second option), I would like to see it from a sober person, that is, from Dante

Sorry anon, Vergilius isn't getting drunk this time...

They had a successful day hunting another distortion, so when the sinners asked Dante for a little time to unwind before going back to the bus, they couldn't say no. Vergilius gave them a look, but instead of saying anything, he smiled. Dante should have interpreted that gesture as a warning; more precisely a bad omen. They were known for being oblivious to certain cues, unfortunately.

They arrived at the restaurant of the sinners' choice earlier, and once everyone voted on paying the meal out of their paychecks, everything started going off the rails. They were so excited to be doing something other than killing things and going back to the bus corridor that Dante couldn't say a thing. They counted on the sinners being able to exercise a little caution and good sense. They were expecting them to drink responsibly. Oh what a series of terrible decisions.

Right now the three tables that the sinners occupy are absolutely chaotic, all of the restaurant's patrons have steered clear of their corner. That's good because then nobody will be picking fights with strangers, but that doesn't say a thing about picking fights with each other.

< Guys, please calm down... > They try to reach out to Heathcliff and Ishmael who have been barking drunken insults back and forth for five minutes. Their words don't get through and they can't help but wonder if they'll need to rewind sometime soon.

It is Outis who steps in on their behalf to placate the fight but she's just as intoxicated and ends up joining the argument. In the midst of this battlefield, somehow, Yi Sang disappeared.

Dante walks by a Don Quixote who's joyfully reciting a speech from one of the many series she enjoys. The staff was smart enough not to let them in with their weapons, so she's wielding a spoon. Valliantly brandishing it into the air, standing on top of a table. Her performance could bring tears to anybody's eyes. It doesn't even look like she's drunk, but they know it.

Gregor lays with his head on the exact same table she stands on, his glasses are resting near his face. He covers his eyes with a hand while he groans. Hong Lu is right by his side, eyes sparkling as he applauds the play before him and pokes Gregor, calling his attention so they watch Don Quixote's performance together. Dante didn't have the presence of mind to suggest that Gregor moves to a less... eventful table.

Eventually they find their way to the table where Faust and Meursault still sit, sipping their drinks quietly while they watch the events unfold. This is where Yi Sang was, and from where he disappeared.

< A-are you sure you haven't seen him go anywhere...? > Dante asks them. Faust and Meursault give them looks of pity.

"The executive manager hasn't found him yet, Meursault." Faust says and Meursault frowns, "Pay."

"Most unfortunate." Meursault replies and with a sigh reaches for his wallet.

< YOU WERE BETTING ON THIS?! > Dante exclaims while they watch the transaction conclude.

"He's under." Faust says cryptically and then leans on the table with a slight smile.

< If only you gave me precise directions... ah, wait. > Under? Realization finally hits them.

They crouch under the table and there is Yi Sang. He's curled on the floor, looking slightly green but otherwise unharmed. Dante almost sighs in relief, but behind their back, Don Quixote's 'play' has grown livelier and louder.

Somehow Don Quixote managed to pull Ryoshu onto the 'stage' and gave her a spoon, goading her to fight a fictional battle. Sinclair has climbed the table in hopes of disengaging them, but his voice is not going through. Don Quixote and Ryoshu face each other, ferocious looks in their eyes.

Were it another person, Dante wouldn't worry too much, but knowing Ryoshu, they are certain she is capable of inflicting bodily harm even with a spoon. They quickly apologize to Yi Sang in their mind and rush to help Sinclair.

On another table, Rodion joined the arguing trio of Heathcliff, Ishmael and Outis. Unlike Outis, she didn't join in with the intent of placating, instead Dante could observe her give small malicious comments that seemed to stoke the flames of discord. They make a mental note to bring that up in a future consultation, but decide that Ryoshu vs. Don Quixote is a bigger problem currently. That's until Ishmael lifts a chair.

< Ishmael, no! > They take a detour and hurry to the ginger's side.

From the table where he safely sits with Charon, Vergilius frowns.

"Tick-Tock seems to be in trouble." Charon comments while she eats Vergilius' dessert.

"Hm..."

"It is loud, Vergie." She complains.

"Yes, we will be going back to the bus soon."

"Yay." She replies without any visible excitement.

Vergilius told himself he wouldn't interfere unless they started breaking down the restaurant. They're almost there, of course, but not yet. It's good to let Dante make these decisions on their own, after all if he continues babying the manager and their sinners, none of them will learn a thing. He sighs and keeps an eye on the commotion, not moving a single finger to help the struggling executive manager.

[141trash]

Holy if you do do a secretary König kid fic

How would she go abouts it?! Sneakily drug him to jerk him off? (I know it'd take a lot to drug that boy) Adult conversation? Tries to be sneaky and get him drunk? Oh the possibilities I'm dying 🫠🫠

Beeestie listen listen. Do you really think you've got to go about it sneakily with König? He's been watching you since the moment that you were assigned as his secretary, just sizing you up. He's a busy man, and also socially stunted, he doesn't have the time or want to date. okay fine he wants to date, but he can't get past the trauma from his childhood nor his insecurities to take that first step

I'm certain that as far as he's concerned a cute little secretary dropped into his lap is the perfect way to secure a wife. He's probably in the midst of some awkward courtship dance known only to him by the time you decide that you'd like him to bend you over his desk and pump a baby into you.

I could see actually asking him going one of two ways.

One, he's all for it. You've just made his life easier by being the one to bring it up. Of course he'll give you his children schatzi. How many would you like? 2? 3? 5? He'll give you a whole soccer team if you'd like, it's not like he isn't well paid. What's that? You weren't expecting him to help? Oh no he can't have that. They're his children too. You understand right? He's going to be a good father and a good husband. He's going to bring you home to his mother and grandmother.

This screams older König to me, he's a little more self assured through time and his years in the military. So when you gather the courage to tell him he's surprised and all for it. I hope you thought this through before you brought it up because there's no turning back now.

Two, he's completely floored. Like, I'm sorry what did you just say? His tinnitus must be really bad today because he could have sworn that you'd asked him if he'd agree to give you babies. He's confused, probably hard as a rock at the suggestion because he absolutely was not staring at you the other day when you bent over to file some stuff in his office. He also did not use that image to help get himself off in the shower later that night. I don't think he'd be able to answer you right away so you'd have to tell him to think about it, maybe give him a little wink before you leave.

Perseverance would be your best friend. You want his babies then you have to work for it. He's half certain that he dreamed the whole interaction and is too terrified of the reaction if he were to bring it up and it really was all just a dream.

You catch him drinking alone one Friday night, caught up in his thoughts. You've been tormenting him all week, at least that's how he feels. Every spare moment he has is clouded with thoughts of you. Your softness, your flirty smiles, your beauty. And gods wouldn't you just be such a good mother? He's so distracted by it that he doesn't notice your approach until you're right in front of him. Instead of office attire you've changed into something comfortable, holding your drink of choice in hand. Your smile stretches across your pretty face, as you take a seat next to him without asking.

He doesn't say anything, but downs his entire glass of whiskey in one heavy gulp. Tonight you're his. Whether it was a dream or not he's got it in his head now and there's no going back. He wants you and he's going to have you.

I might still write this but these are my thoughts lmao. I don't think you need very much at all to convince him ;) he's a little pathetic that way, but that's why we love him

[greenapplespider]

Blood in Moderation is long, arduous, a bit overly esoteric, has too many characters, and I write it like a spastic maniac jumping from one non-congruent scene to the next based off vibe. But, because it’s me, the story is dark and whumpy.

There’s a massive portion of two characters back stories (Jeffery and Romulus), that I’m iffy on whether to leave vaguely mentioned or to just delve into it hog wild.

Here’s the whump scenario, between these two. Also, I write my notes like little stories.

—

After being turned into blood-suckers by, Adrien. Our newly minted mutants are imprisoned and experimented on for years until a moment of chance occurs and Romulus is able to escape his cell. Hastily, he looked for his friends but is only able to find Jeffery, before they are beset upon by the guards.

Despite having his magic bound, Jeffery powered through- with the assistance of some blood magic- and is able to narrowly teleport the both of them away, but with great harm done to himself.

Jeffery and Romulus eventually make their way to one of their old bases, a seldom used old-world bunker, a weeks walk from Torch City and in the middle of an old-growth forest.

The two intend to regroup and rescue their friends but being a blood-sucker is a difficult thing. You don’t think right, everything seems to be teetering on a knife’s edge of insanity, all your instincts are new and intense. Denying even one intrusive thought is an monumental task; paired with the unending urge to eat and fuck and nest and rip and tear and-

Higher thought can be an even more difficult thing for a fledgling, especially when half starved on animal blood and under-stimulated.

Months turned into year and years into decades, time a meaningless swirl only disrupted by occasionally tearing each other apart.

In the midst of it all, Jeffery slowly started coming back to himself, sooner then Romulus. Being beat half to death, during another fight, was a final straw for him, regardless of how regretful Romulus seemed. Jeffery decided it was probably best for the two of them to part ways.

Romulus, still rather insane, took issue with this. Jeffery was, quite literally, the only thing he had left and he would rather kill himself then be alone, at this point. There was a part of him that knew it was fucked, that Jeffery was right and that they couldn’t keep living like this. But the animal part drowned out any reason to be had.

They fought, Jeffery still recovering from their last bout, was easily over powered. Romulus locked him deep inside the bunker, within one of the magic retardant rooms, forcing the old magic restraints on him, and chaining him to the wall.

Weeks passed before he’d come down from it enough to realize the line he’d crossed. But it was too late, he couldn’t undo what he’d done; the guilt was gnawing and not something he wanted to think about. So Romulus didn’t.

It was years before the part of him- he wouldn’t call it human as he was anything but at this point; but it was the part of him that was more then just the debased animal he’d become- had matured enough to be sobered by his actions.

Romulus finally forced himself to unlock the door he’d pointedly avoided for who knows how long. He didn’t realize how much he hated himself until then. How much of a pathetic coward he’d become.

Looking at the still, emaciated, figure lying on its back, covered in old and crusted blood. Claw marks littered the walls and door, it seems at some point Jeffery had gnawed off his own hands and feet, to slip the cuffs; enough time having past that the limbs had even regrown.

He looked like a monster. Pale, hairless, elongated arms, widened mouth, with clawed hands and no genitalia to speak of. The creature, once deathly still, was on him snapping its jaws before it chirped and began smelling him, burying its face in the crook of his neck. Romulus could feel a slight nibble break the skin, the creature taking only a taste before chirping again and moving off him. Gangly limps moving clumsily, quickness and grace gone once it was clear there was no food to be had. The creature laid back down and began staring at the ceiling again.

Romulus sat up in the doorway. That was his friend. He’d done this to his friend.

So he started to feed him, feed him as much and as often as he could. Forgoing food himself most days just to make sure Jeffery had his fill. Animal blood wasn’t enough, Romulus knew what was needed but he didn’t want to risk leaving his friend unattended. So he hunted as much as he could and grew skinnier and skinner.

Jeffery began filling back out, his hair started growing in, covering his head and lower torso in a red peach fuzz. He almost found it cute. It didn’t help how happy Jeffery was whenever he brought him food, chirping excitedly when he’d arrived. Sometimes nipping at him, as though to convince him eat. Sometimes Romulus did and it broke his heart at how delighted it made the other.

The healthier Jeffery became the more physical he wanted to be, always trying to touch him. Burry his face in his neck, nipping at him, and even other things; guiltily, Romulus let him.

Eventually, Jeffery seemed, physically, more or less recovered but his mind was still elsewhere. Completely animalistic, but sometimes he’d wake from a nightmare and for a moment the look in his eyes made Romulus nauseous.

Romulus decided, then, if Jeffery was ever able to regain himself he would let the other man kill him. Do whatever he wanted with him- it would be his right.

—

Physical attributes of feral blood suckers:

Emaciated figure

Hair falls out

Enlarged mouth and sharpened teeth

Elongated arms with clawed hands

Both sets of genitalia shrivel up and recess into the body

Does not appear able to urinate or defecate 

Stronger then average human but weaker then a well fed blood sucker

Extremely slow healing but undeterred by injuries

Mages turned feral are able to perform the most base spells at their disposal

Reacts only to outside stimulation

Enters torpor without stimulation

Incapable of speech or high order thinking (completely animalistic)

Driven purely by the need for food

With proper food and close proximity to nest mates for a prolonged period, there is a chance of regaining one’s faculties and human form

[marshmallowimagines]

looks better | bang chan

Honest to god Chan’s last day or so messaging on Bubble has made me really sad, like... I really wanna hug him. I don’t know what he’d going through but I know I struggle the same in a lot of ways and just felt like I had to write something.

also hi, um, i don’t write much? but i wrote this in one go cause i needed to get it out of my brain

cw: vague mentions of struggle with weight, image issues (if you have seen chan’s recent bubble messages you know what i mean)

“Chan… what are you doing?”

It was one thing to find your boyfriend standing in your shared bedroom half naked.

It was another thing to find him standing in your shared bedroom half naked with what seemed to be every piece of clothing he owned scattered across the room in a way that could only be described as a tornado having ripped across the space. Your lovely boyfriend stands at his mirror, a t-shirt clenched in his hands, seemingly shocked at you peeking into the room.

Your boyfriend startles, eyes wide and jumping in surprise like a deer caught in headlights.

“Ah, nothing nothing.” Chan shakes his head, immediately moving to yank the t-shirt onto his head. “I was just… clearing out my old clothes y’know?”

Though something tells you that your boyfriend was otherwise not spring cleaning, you make your way across the mess of space, eyeing all the clothes on the floor.

As you approach him you find a shirt he had definitely bought just a little while ago scattered in the midst of half his clothes. “Spring cleaning? Really?”

As you present the new shirt to him, his shoulders drop with a sigh.

It’s not believable in the slightest.

“Okay okay, maybe I’m not spring cleaning my wardrobe.” Chan holds his hands up in defeat, sighing and refusing in the moment to meet your eyes. “I, uh…”

He pauses, tugging on the oversized shirt he’d tugged on in haste. You won’t push him on the issue, mostly concerned about the mess, but after a few moments he continues.

“I think I need to go shopping… I don’t look good in anything I’ve bought.”

The surprise that crosses your features is evident; going from confusion to a scowl to a very fond but sad look at your boyfriend. “Chan, really?”

“I need shopping lessons clearly.” Chan huffs in such a way you almost feel overly fond, cheeks puffed out and hair tousled in a manner that really just makes you wanna mess with it more. Any other time your boyfriend would have been just in his boxers the situation would have ended very differently. “Nothing looks good at all.”

“Now that can’t be true.” You frown, and step forward to take your boyfriend’s hands. His hands, big and warm as always, seem to shake just the slightest at this series of events.

“It is though.”

“Chan, baby-” As you hold his hands, even when you comfort him, you notice his thumb gently ghosting across the back of your hand. You know this isn’t just about you comforting him though, you both take solace in being able to voice anything to the other. You don’t want to press him, but you coax him to explain.  “-is this just about the clothes?”

Chan’s next response though, is a lot smaller than you anticipated.

“I don’t think so…” His voice seems so tiny, so gentle, his hands gripping yours to ground himself. “...I don’t like how I look either.”

Though you sigh, a wince escaping Chan at the sound, you don’t mean to sound defeated. You keep tight hold of one of his hands gently, the other gently caressing his cheek. Your boyfriend still won’t look at you, and you know he’s afraid to admit the struggles that vortex in his brain.

It’s a difficult issue.

“I’m sorry I should have said something sooner instead of making a mess of our bedroom.” The weak laugh that escapes him is coupled by him leaning into your touch. His cheek is soft and warm, and the hum that he sighs is content. “I’ll pick it up I promise.”

You laugh and the grip of his hand laced with yours gets tighter, like he needs to ground himself further in your embrace.

“I’m not worried about the mess babe-” You take a deep breath and tilt his cheek up, eyes meeting. His soft brown eyes seem to plead to not be seen, looking elsewhere once again. The firmer grip on your hand is not lost on you either. “-I think I’m worried about you.”

Chan is silent for a moment, still refusing to meet your gaze. It’s almost as if he lingers on the clothes on the floor for too long, before finally glancing up at you.

“I’m sorry…” He sighs. “I think it’s just a passing feeling again y’know? Like I tried everything on and nothing seemed right… almost like I don’t know how to dress myself. If a stylist does it it’s one thing, it looks coordinated and everything flows. They like that. But when I dress myself I feel like I look sloppy… I don’t even know how to style my own hair.”

The frown that settles on your face is more of sadness than frustration. “Oh Chan…”

When his grip seems to be as tight as it can get, his following statement breaks your heart.

“Are you really sure I’m attractive?”

You suck in a breath, tensing.

Yes, your boyfriend and you both have your insecurities. They come and go like fleeting, burning shooting stars, leaving either of you exhausted and drained from fighting them. They stick and ache, flickering through your brains like bad black and white films. But the other is always there to comfort the one struggling like a breath of fresh air.

You tilt his head to look at you, his eyes soft and earnestly begging for comfort. Your palm that cups his cheek wipes away a brimming tear, and a faint chuckle escapes your boyfriend as he sighs. Just asking that single question seemed to make him all the more tired.

“Of course I do Chan.” You smile gently, cupping his face once more as you press a faint kiss to his nose. “I think everything about you is attractive.”

The chuckle that escapes him makes your heart warm.

“Even if I lose my muscles?”

“Even if you lost your muscles you’d still be attractive.”

“Even if I was bodybuilder buff?”

“Even if you were bodybuilder buff. As long as that’s what you want.”

“What if I dress myself in neon?”

“Might be mistaken for a traffic cone, but of course.”

As the two of you exchange banter, Chan increasingly gets more silly with each question. It seems like laughter seems to break through his fog.

“As long as you’re sure…” Chan breathes deep, eyes gentle and trusting to your words in the moment. The battle in his head is long from over, but in this moment he feels more content. “...thank you.”

“Of course I’m sure.” You hum. The hand of yours that held his is loosened, and you find yourself with your fingers clasping the hem of his oversized shirt that you’re pretty sure is actually now your pajama shirt you’d stolen from him. “You’re attractive inside and out. Even if I need to tell you every day, I’ll always be here to do it because it’s true Chan.”

“Promise?” Chan asks quietly.

“Always.” You confirm.

The giggle that escapes him seems to lift the tension in the room, soft smile finally blooming on Chan’s face.

“In fact, even this t-shirt looks really good on you.” You hum, rubbing the hem between your fingers.

Truth be told, you thought your boyfriend looked good in everything though. From stylist chosen attires to simple shirts and shorts. From heavy concert fits to the most casual jeans and polo shirt. Each suited him in a way you couldn’t explain, though out there somewhere there was someone with colorful vibrant passionate language to explain all the-

-well without getting too deep, needless to say there were a lot of things people found attractive about him.

“You think so?” Chan looks down at his ensemble; a huge tee and his boxers. “I’m basically in pajamas. I don’t look that good.”

“Oh I think you do.” You can’t help but giggle, pressing forward against your boyfriend as his arms find their way around your waist. This feels much more familiar. “But…”

“But…?” Chan’s strong arms wrap around you as he pulls you to him, the comforting rumble of his deep voice wrapping around you as he hums near your ear.

You grin against his shoulder, fingers from his hem skirting up underneath his shirt against his abs.

“You look really good in anything, but it’d look all the better on my floor.”

The exasperated laugh that escapes Chan is nothing short of the most beautiful bells.

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 19

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same. Chapter: 19/? A/N: Um, cannot believe this story is at 19 chapters already. like, what? I'm thinking of separating the series into each of the books, that way we don't get to like 100 chapters because it's basically just a Twilight rewrite 😅😅 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Please check if you’re tagged in the story, I’ve reached the limit of tags on Twilight again it seems. 😅

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Chapter 19

(Y/N) felt guilt surging through her as she knocked on the door of the Swan residence. She knew she had been in pain. That just like Bella she had been abandoned by the person they thought was the love of their life. But she had crawled out of the dark hole she had sunk into, fighting tooth and nail against everything that wanted to keep her down. Although, she could still feel their claws scraping at her skin, breathing down her neck, and whispering their return.

But even if she still wasn’t a hundred percent healed and she still cried herself to sleep on the nights she was alone, she wanted to at least help Bella take the first step out.

“(Y/N),” Charlie smiled. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course, Charlie. I just wanna make sure Bella gets better, or at least start to.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he stammered slightly. “Before the Cullens left, there was talk in the town about the doctor. You know, about who he was seeing…”

“You’re wondering if we were together?” (Y/N) smiled, pushing down the sadness that was threatening to spill out with her words. “Well, I’ll let you know that those rumors were true. And, yes, just like Bella, he broke up with me and left. I’m guessing that’s why you asked me to talk to her.”

“It is,” he smiled awkwardly. “I’m not usually keen on small-town gossip, but I’d heard that you had been in a funk since they left, and I put two and two together. And seeing how well you’re doing now, I needed to throw out a hail Mary and see if you could help Bella.”

“It’s okay, Charlie. I knew that people talked about us,” she said reassuringly. “And though it’s been hard, with the help of my friends and family, I was able to start piecing myself back together. I only hope I can help do the same with Bella.”

“I hope so to,” he breathed defeatedly. “I have to run out to work right now but you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen or you can get some pizza, or even take Bella to the diner. I’ll cover the whole tab.”

“I think we’ll manage, Charlie. But thank you,” she chuckled. “I’m no miracle worker but I will try my best.”

“That is all I can ask,” he said. “You probably won’t be here when I get back, so I’m gonna thank you again for trying with Bella. I’m glad that she has people in her corner like you.”

 “She will always have a friend in me.”

(Y/N) waved the man away as he left the house, pointing her upstairs in the direction of Bella. With the man gone the house was eerily quiet. If she hadn’t known the other girl was in her room, she would have thought Charlie had left her in an empty house. There was no sign of life. And she hated how familiar that felt.

She walked up the creaky stairs, bracing herself for whatever version of Isabella Swan she would be faced with. She knew what losing yourself in heartache looked and felt like, and it was not pretty.

The door to Bella’s room was open, still no indication of movement, and for a second (Y/N) felt like she was intruding into someone’s privacy. Until she saw the girl’s figure as still as a statue on the far end of her bedroom staring out the window.

Bella looked paler than usual, her cheeks slightly sunken and her eyes wearing dark bags under them. She hadn’t been sleeping or eating well and it was evident on her body. If someone had told her that the Swan girl had not moved from that chair in months, she would have believed them.

“Hey, Bella.” (Y/N)’s voice startled her. The girl jumped as though her systems had jump-started at the sound of another presence. “Don’t know if your dad told you but he asked me to come over. I know we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh, hey,” she muttered. “Yeah, I think he mentioned something.”

“I guess it’s no surprise that he asked me to come talk to you, huh?”

“Because of them,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled painfully, sitting on the ledge of the window right in front of her.

She had practiced a speech at home, words of encouragement that would hopefully chip at the wall Bella had built around herself. She’d practiced speech after speech, picking from every talking to Sam and her mom had related to her, every phrase that made her own heart soften.

But standing before Bella, the words had died in her throat. There was nothing she could say to make it better. No amount of bullshit could make her better. What the Cullens had done to both of them Would not be remedied with a conversation. And that was all (Y/N) had.

“How’d you do it?” Bella asked after a few minutes in silence. “How were you able to move on from him?”

“To be honest… I haven’t,” she sighed, the confession tasting acrid on her tongue. “And I don’t think I ever will. I don’t think you ever really move on from someone you were ready to give up your whole life for.”

“But you seem to have it all together now,” she exclaimed. “You’re in med school, you’re going to parties, you’re working at the hospital. And you look happy.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Bella. That’s the beauty of pretending. People don’t question someone that looks happy,” (Y/N) smiled softly. “I’m not doing any better than you just because it looks like I am. If I’m telling the truth, I am still as heartbroken as I was the day they left. I just decided that pretending was easier than hurting.”

“I just feel like I’ll be in pain for the rest of my life,” the girl cried softly. “I just wish there was something I could use to numb it all. I just want it to stop.”

“That’s not the answer either, Bella. And I would know. I spent the first two months drowning my sorrows with vodka,” she confessed. “And even if I felt numb for a few hours the pain was still there. It always will be, I think.”

“Then how do we make it through? How do we stop it from hurting more?”

“I don’t think we can stop it from hurting. All we can do is keep going regardless of how much it hurts,” (Y/N) offered. “But if they get to go on with their lives after leaving us as they did, then we owe it to ourselves to do the same. The best way to make them pay is to show them our lives went on without them.”

“It’s just,” her voice croaked. “I don’t think I can. Actually, I don’t think I want my life to go on without Edward. I had never seen forever the way I saw it with him. Didn’t you feel like that with Carlise?” 

At the sound of his name, the knot in (Y/N)’s throat tightened. It had been months since her ears had listened to that combination of letters. Everyone around her had quickly picked up on the situation and they had more than willingly stopped mentioning his name.

But there Bella was, speaking it into existence as if it wasn’t the most bitter word to let pass through her tongue. She said them like the beautiful names they were, like the sweetness of them wasn’t overwhelming in her mouth. She spoke like a girl that was still in love and had no disdain for the person that had hurt her. And (Y/N) wondered how that could be.

His name was laced with so much anger and sadness that (Y/N) couldn’t even bring herself to even think about it. Yet, Bella had said it and it had felt like a punch to the gut. Because she had once also said his name with so much enchantment and care, and it made her miss those days. The days when she could call his name and instantly be filled with happiness and excitement.

“I did… I do,” she corrected. “But I don’t want to. That’s why I’ve been trying my hardest to move on, even if it’s just one day at a time. I want to get to the day where when I dream of my future he’s not there. I crave the morning I wake up and my heart doesn’t ache anymore, where I can trust someone else to tell me they love me and mean it. We gave them our hearts, Bella, and they threw it away like it meant nothing. I’m not telling you that you have to move on. But I am telling you that it’s the best idea.”

Bella simply nodded for a second and agreed when (Y/N) offered to get some pizza to fill the silence. Everything that (Y/N) had told her she agreed with, to an extent. If the Cullens weren’t coming back like it seemed they weren’t, then she wanted to take her life back in her control like (Y/N) had. But she couldn’t help the tiny drop of hope she held that they would return, and she could settle into their life as she had done once and fulfill the plans she had made with Edward.

As (Y/N) served herself pizza, Bella sat there, picking at the slice that was on her plate, the words slowly digesting into her system. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“If he had offered to turn you –before everything happened—if he had told you that he would have turned you and asked you to leave with them.” She stared deeply into (Y/N)’s eyes, her tears glistening in the rays of the morning. “Would you have done it? Would you have gone with him?”

“The rational side of me wants to say no. That I would have thought twice about leaving my family and friends again, that I would have given myself a few years to be human and experience life while my heart was still beating,” she chuckled, drying away tears she had not known were pooling until they fell down her cheeks. “But my romantic side, the side that was desperate to be in love, knows I would have agreed just if it meant that I would have him by my side for the rest of my life. I would have given up everything even for just a few years with him.”

“What if he came back? What if he came back and asked for another chance?” Bella was desperate. It was the first time she could ask these questions. The first time she could talk to someone that knew everything and could answer back. “Would you give it to him?”

“That’s a difficult hypothetical, Bella,” (Y/N) laughed. “I think there are too many variables at play for me to know if I would.”

“That’s because you’re thinking with your rational side,” Bella teased slightly, the semblance of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m asking your romantic side. Would that side want Carlisle back?”

(Y/N) kept quiet even though she knew the answer. It was hard to say it out loud. To admit that regardless of how destroyed he had left her that she would want him with every fiber of her being. That if tomorrow he reappeared that she would fall back into his arms and pick things up where they had ended. But it wasn’t fair to her, to the little progress she had made without him.

Still, she was being truthful. “The romantic side would gladly take him back,” she said sadly. “But it’s not just to the side that’s put in the work to not let that happen. What will it say about me that someone could hurt me in the way he did, and I welcomed him back into my life?”

“Oh,” was all Bella responded, her head falling as her skin flushed red.

“Would you take Edward back?”

“I would,” her voice peeped meekly. “I love him too much not to. But I wish I was like you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“It will still hurt, Bella. It’ll just be easier to act like it doesn’t,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Look, Bella, no one can tell you to move on. If it was that easy, we wouldn’t be here. But you need to at least take the first step. Staying in this room, waiting for the day things just change will not work. It’s on you to start a new journey.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I know you’re right. It’s just so hard.”

“I know it is. If there’s anyone that knows, it’s me,” she smiled. “But you’re not alone. You have people around you that love and care for you. Let them.”

“I’ve pushed them away. I pushed everyone away.”

“The ones that truly care will still welcome you back. Just take it one day at a time, Bella. But take it out of this room.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). It’s comforting to have someone to talk to so openly about this. Things won’t change quickly, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” (Y/N) said, giving the girl a hug goodbye. “If you need anyone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call, Bella.”

“I will,” she smiled weakly. “Take care of yourself, (Y/N).”

“You too, Bella.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she had confessed to everything she had worked to shove into the deepest corners of her mind. She didn’t want to admit the hold he still had on her. That at any second, he could waltz back into her life, and she would still be as in love with him as the day he had left. It was hard to let those words pass through her lips. Because once they were out, there was no way to sink them back in.  

It was strange and unnerving to hear herself say those words out loud. She had kept these thoughts deeply buried in her brain, scared to ever let them come out. Especially around Sam and Paul. Even if the Cullens had not been their natural-born enemies, she was sure they would have still hated them. More after their patriarch had broken her heart. Other than them, there was no one else she was close to that she could really talk to. They knew everything, and for her to be able to open up completely she needed people who knew everything.

Still, as much as she loved Sam and Paul, they were the least objective people in her life. They were genetically predisposed to not be objective. (Y/N) would go to them for everything else, just nothing that had to do with the Cullens.

But Bella was no better for her. Her scales were tilted toward them. If she took anything from her conversation with the Swan girl was that no matter what they had done, she would forgive them and sink back into their life as if nothing had happened. It was terrifying and just the smallest sliver of extraordinary. Her loyalty to the Cullens transpired her pain. Maybe she knew something (Y/N) didn’t.

As she neared her house, she started burying those thoughts deeper and deeper into her mind, afraid that they were visible on her face. Even if she knew how unrealistic it was –and that the only mind reader she knew was miles away—she couldn’t help the embarrassment that rushed to her skin in shades of red. And if they did, she knew they wouldn’t mention it. At least, not to her face. That much she could expect.

What she didn’t expect was to find Embry Call sitting on her porch. He wore a stressed look on his face, nights of little sleep evident on his face. The boy she knew had always been very happy, quiet but joyous. And though he seemed to be the same happy boy, there was a weight to him that was undeniable.

“Embry,” she called out as she got out of her car. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess,” he smiled forcefully. “Well, not exactly.” 

“Why don’t you come in, Em? It’ll be more comfortable to talk.” 

“Sure, thanks.” 

The boy quietly followed her, somehow trying to shrink his 6’4” frame. It was something he did ever since he shifted. The first time he had joined the pack after his first transformation, he had tried to sink into the background as much as he could. The last thing he wanted was to step on anyone’s toes, even if he had been told that he wasn’t.

(Y/N) directed them to the kitchen, quickly setting out drinks and food for the kid, knowing he’d definitely be hungry. “Help yourself to anything,” she said as she noted him sitting on his hands. “Mom still buys food like Sam and his friends come over to ransack our kitchen.” 

“Okay, uh, thanks.” 

“We’re not strangers, Embry,” she smiled kindly. “You can let loose with me.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I’m not used to being around other people that aren’t Jake and Quil.” 

“I get that.” She joined him at the kitchen table, sitting before him, a cup of water in her hand. She was all talked out for the evening, but she could see just how much he needed a friend at that moment. “So, what’s going on, kid?” 

“You know we’re only three years apart, right?”

“Still makes me older than you,” she laughed with him. “But, seriously, what’s up?” 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here,” he chuckled dryly. “I guess ever since I had my first shift I’ve been feeling kinda lonely. Lonely and confused. It took a couple of hours for my whole life to change and now I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it.”

“How are things at home?”

“Well, mom is always angry at me, but at least she’s stopped yelling. Though I don’t know if I like that better,” he responded sadly. She could see he was biting back tears. His lower lip was quivering and his eyes were pooling with water. “I know you weren’t here when it happened, but do you know Ms. Uley took everything?” 

“To this day they don’t really talk. But when I got here, I didn’t understand why my brother wasn’t home or why he and mom were fighting, or even why we couldn’t even spend time together. I knew he was hiding something, and I guess it hurt to think that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me whatever it was,” she recounted. “It’s a strange thing to watch from the outside. I mean, hearing rumors that my older brother, the man that basically took care of me when I was a kid, had started a gang and was recruiting other from the rez was astonishing. It wasn’t something I could even fathom.  But I don’t know how my mother felt when Saam started disappearing or when he moved out. She won’t talk to me about it.”

“He wanted to waive the silence rule for me,” Embry said sheepishly. “After the first week and seeing how hard it was at home, he told me I could tell my mom everything.”

“But you valued why it’s a secret,” she confirmed. "I understand that. And I also understand how lonely being part of the pack is. Especially coming into a place where you essentially know no one. But open yourself up to them. If you let them in, they will do the same. They’re your family now, Em.” 

“I know. I guess it’s just still all so new to me. I’ve been used to the same people my whole life; I’ve known only one truth my whole life, and it all changed.” 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but would you ever ask your mom about who your dad is?”

“Don’t think I could ever ask without proving where the suspicions came from,” he shrugged. “Just like everyone here, I was under the impression that my dad was someone from the Makah tribe. She told me that much. But now…”

“That’s okay,” she smiled comfortingly. “But, Embry, I want you to know that regardless of what’s happening at home or with your friends, you’re not alone. You’ve got the pack and you’ve got me, okay? If there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable speaking to them, my door is always open. And if they’re ever giving you shit, I’ll put them in their place. They’re there for you, and so am I. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he smiled brightly, a few tears falling down his outstretched cheeks. “It’s good to know I still have people I can lean on. You’ve always been nice to me, and I don’t know why.” 

“We all need a little kindness from time to time, Embry. I’m just doing my part in it.”

“Well, it’s greatly appreciated. And even if it doesn’t mean anything, I’m also here for you if you need someone to lean on.”

“It means a lot, Em,” she smiled. “More than you know.” 

The more she talked to the people that most needed it, the more she started to believe her own words. Maybe there was light on the other side of this mountain. Maybe (Y/N) would one day see the morning when the thought of him didn’t send a stake through her heart.

Next ->

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[mothergold]

| Best Friends |

Pairing: Zhezhi x Gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Pre-release Zhezhi, Fluff, Implied Friends to Lovers, Reader is implied to have long hair, Zhezhi is very shy, Gender Neutral Reader, 850 ish words.

Summary:  Zhezhi offers to paint you at her favorite hiding place.

A/n: This is my first time writing for Zhezhi and wuwa as a whole so please be nice to me. Just wanted to write something cute for Zhezhi since she captured my attention when i first saw her drip marketing.

Tags: @auphelia @savvydabbydoo

It was about noon when your dear friend Zhezhi invited you over to her favorite spot for lunch. She’d promised to feed you something warm in exchange for you being the model for her next painting. Of course, you would never say no to her. So, you smiled and nodded, grabbing her hand in yours as you asked her what was so special about this particular spot of hers, which she made sure to tell you all about on the way to. 

The cool and gentle breeze spun through your hair, causing strands of your hair to glimmer in the sunlight. Your eyes caught Zhezhe’s in the midst of her focus. Her mouth fell open slightly as her eyes seemed to sparkle with something familiar. You couldn’t help but smile and giggle as she hid her blushing face behind her easel. She always did look incredibly cute in a moment of pure focus. 

“Are you always this focused, Zhezhi?” You teased. 

“N-No. I mean, yes, but I wouldn’t say I’m that focused.” She stammered. 

Zhezhi had tried to remain calm and collected as she painted some of her favorite parts of you. For example, your lips, which always seemed to appear so perfectly kissable no matter how much she tried denying it. Too many times she’d wondered how they’d feel pressed gently against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to steady her hand that shook. She couldn’t afford to think of such things at a time like that. She needed to concentrate. 

Focus, Zhezhi. Focus.  

If it weren’t for the reassurance of how she was nearly done with her painting, she probably would’ve never gained back that focus. The final part was supposed to be the easiest one! Adding the smaller details and highlights should’ve been no stress at all, but with your bright eyes gazing back at her how could she possibly remain calm? 

Eventually she mustered enough courage to finish the rest of her painting. Zhezhi studied her art for a few more moments before showing it to you. Admittedly she didn’t want to show you in the first place but you were very persuasive. 

“Come on, Zhezhi, let me see.” You pleaded, getting up from your stool to lean over her shoulder to take a good look at what she’d created.

“Oh.” You remarked. 

Immediately Zhezhi felt something fall into the pit of her stomach. She’d worried this would be your reaction. 

“I-I know. It’s.. not the best.” Zhezhi was completely ashamed of herself.

You shook your head frantically. “No, not at all! It’s rather beautiful actually.” You paused to gaze at the art a little longer. “You’re very skilled, Zhezhi.” You spoke softly, still not able to pry your eyes from the painting of you. 

It was at that moment that Zhezhi felt something warm bloom across her face. She’d hoped she’d not become so flustered all over again, but she just couldn’t help it when your face was filled with adoration at the sight of her artwork. You hadn’t just liked the painting, you loved it. Truthfully, you couldn’t even pick only one aspect of the painting that you loved the most, because you adored everything about it. 

You let out a quiet sigh and smiled. No one had ever drawn, much less painted you so beautifully before. Was this how your friend truly saw you? Did the vibrant colors reflect your  bright personality? You hoped in due time that the secrets of that painting would reveal itself to you. 

“You can have it if you’d like.” Zhezhi spoke with a smile.

Immediately you tried to deny her request, explaining that you wouldn’t have anything in return to give to her, but she insisted.

“I want you to have it.” Her eyes were full of familiarity once again. 

You nodded. “If you say so.” You hummed to yourself as you were deep in thought. “In fact..” You held the canvas and tilted it back to get a better look at it. “..It would be perfect to hang in my living room. Don’t you agree?” 

Zhezhi nodded, that same bashful look caressing her cheeks. “Let me help you bring it home.” She offered. 

You smiled in response and helped Zhezhi gather her things so as to make the trip back to Jinzhou.

 As the two of you made your way back you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter than before, like you were stepping on a stairway of clouds. You weren’t so sure you knew the feeling you were experiencing, regardless of how nostalgic it felt, but it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in it a tad bit longer. So, grabbing Zhezhi’s hand again you gave her a big smile before rushing the both of you towards that city where you both met. If all days felt as airy and light as that day, then you were sure you had not a single thing to worry about. As long as you had Zhezhi’s hand in yours all would be alright.

[honeysunai]

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Suguru Geto x y/n

When you first stepped into the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College as a teenager, you first fell head over heels over Suguru Geto. As the years went on, he chose a path of evil and violence that you couldn’t follow him to which led you to a heartbreak. Years later, you became a teacher at that same school and you weren’t expecting to ever see him again and you didn’t think an old flame could spark again even in the midst of war.

warning : 18+, smut with plot because I can’t write anything without plot for the life of me, angst, swearing, kidnapping I guess, Suguru being toxic and jealous and somewhat a bit soft.

author’s note :  This is like my first ever smut and I wrote it super quickly, so I hope you still enjoy it no matter!

word count : 4k+

You had a really bad feeling. It was crawling all over your skin since you woke up like something bad was about to happen. You got ready to early to stop for coffee and when you opened the door, you finally got a glimpse of that bad feeling. The white haired teacher with his infamous sunglasses was standing there with two coffees in his hands.

"Rise and shine sweet girl, we've got a big day." He chanted and you wanted to grab the coffee and slam the door on his stupidly handsome face. You grunted and slammed the door shut behind you and took one of the cups off his hands. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. I have this bad feeling, I tried to take a steamy shower and wash my face with cold water to maybe shake it off, but it's still there." He hums at your words. "We'll have to watch Yuta a bit more carefully." You add as you take a sip of your coffee. You have been substituting Satoru's students with him just in case Yuta's curse, Rika would be unstable. You would use your own abilities to keep her calm.

You were the wielder of the Ten Commandments, these chains were in form of golden bands on all ten fingers. Your abilities was used by the school and many others to sooth curses to be able to study them alive or to destroy them.

"You overthink too much, the kid is doing great!" He pats you on the back. "I can think of a way or two to get this off your mind." He smirks and you elbow him, but still, you giggled anyway.

"I'll take you up on that offer if you pay for the drink this time." You tease.

"It is seven in the morning and your thinking of drinking, what kind of teacher are you?" He gasps in a dramatic way.

"And you about sex, what does that make you?" You retort.

"A... flirt?" And with that you rolled your eyes, he was a lost cause, but you loved him anyways because he had been your friend for so long... Too long. Recently, something between the two of you happened, a few drinks and there and you woke up naked in his bed cuddled to him. It became a casual thing between the two of you since that day.

The day was long as you predicted and you really couldn’t shake it off, it was like a bug crawling with its little spiky legs all over your back. You were in your office still sipping your coffee while reading boring reports your superior gave you. You were lost in your reading when the crawling suddenly stopped. You looked outside your window to see a gigantic stork made its way to the entrance of the school. You sprinted out your office with your heart beating out of your chest, it had to be him and if it was... it wasn’t a good sign. 

Once you reached the door you saw Satoru standing proud in front of his students and in front of him was a tall man, with thick long dark hair halfway in a bun and as you approached closer, his features became clearer to your eyes. A sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes and a smile that only meant no good... It was him. It was Suguru Geto. 

You made your way in front of Satoru and the kids to protect them against him if he tried something. You knew him better than anyone and you knew he wouldn’t dare to hurt you no matter how much he might want to. There was only one reason he was here in the first place and it was Rika and you wouldn’t let him get to Yuta. 

“Leave my students alone.” You bared your teeth at the man who used to be yours. He towered you with his height and only smiled at you. “Satoru might play nice with you, but I won’t.” You were clenching your fists ready to use your cursed objects on him. You never have been bashful in front of him and you wouldn’t cower now. He took a good look at you and scoffed. 

“I’m here to declare war.” He finally speaks his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t get too busy on December 24, you’ll need all of your energy because I will commence the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” He simply says as if it was nothing. “ Thousand cursed spirits will be unleashed in both Shinjuku and Kyoto and all will be ordered to kill every non-sorcerer in sight.” His chuckle his dark and dry. “I challenge you to try to stop me. It will be like the good old days.” He glared at Satoru. “You have one week until war is upon you. Until then, I’ll borrow this little one.” He was too fast for everyone and grabbed you yanking you in the curses mouth. You didn’t even have time to comprehend the speed he had before the stork flew away. 

You were in a bedroom that had no windows and one door that was locked. You can barely remember what happened. You were in a storks mouth and now you were here. Someone must’ve knocked you out really good. Your rings were gone too. You paced around the room, not knowing what your plan was. You were going to kill the first person that enters the room and you were going to escape, as simple as that. You have done that a few times in your younger days, it shouldn’t be too hard now. 

You breathing was heavier and you were angry, your face flushed. You waited and waited until the door unlocked and a tall muscular figure appeared. His long black hair loose, only wearing a blue kimono that you bought him at some point. You didn’t waste a second before running towards him and crashing your fist against his jaw.

“You motherfucker!” You yelled at him.

“So feisty.” He teased. “But I deserved that one.” He chuckles and you were not in the mood for jokes. A lump in your throat was forming and your fist were shaking. After all these years you wanted to kill him, but now that he’s in front of you, you just want to scream and cry. 

“You left me.” You tone was dry as if he had sucked the life out of you. Your fists tried to connect with his face once more, but he was faster than you were and knew your technics because he was the one who thought you how to fight. At each missed attempt, your tears were filling your eyes. “You betrayed me and you killed so many of our friends— You— You—” At every word you were jabbing at his face hoping your fist would connect with his jaw at some point, but he still moved out of the way of each and every single one.

He finally catches your first in one hand and smiled at you. “I missed you too, y/n.” You were caught off guard. He yanked you closer to him and tears were falling down your cheeks. “You were always a crybaby, my love.” You pushed yourself away from his grasp like it was burning. You held a hand before you to put space between the two of you. 

“Don’t—” You spoke as you dried your own tears. “You are nothing to me anymore.”

“Aren’t I?” His smug smile annoyed you and yet comforted you at the same time. You were angry with him as anyone should in your situation. He started to circle you as if you were his prey, his little crying lamb. “I know you and I know you love me, just as you did all those years ago. I still do.” He admits.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. “But loving me wasn’t enough to stay.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, in fact it was your love who gave me strength to leave and to become who I am.” He was proud of what he was and you were disgusted.

“A murderer?” You scoff. “Should I be flattered you’re putting the blood on your hands on mine?”

“Your words, my love, not mine.” He came to a stop behind you and walked closer to your frozen body. “No blood should ever tarnish that beautiful skin of yours as long as I’m alive.” You hummed in disapproval. “You know why you are here, don’t you?” His presence drew closer to your back and you were shivering. “Join me.” His voice his as soft as his thumb caressing your jaw. “I can give you anything you want, only if you chose me over Satoru.”

“That’s what this is about, jealousy.”

“What if it was?” You can feel the smugness in his tone. “You put yourself in front of a man who can’t be touched, ready to accept any punishment I wanted to unleash at that precise moment. You grew fond of him over the years I was gone.” He sounded disgusted. “Enough to die for him.” The stroke of his thumb came to a sharp stop, before going up your cheek to wipe a tear you silently cried. Why were you crying? You weren’t scared of him, so what was it? Was it guilt perhaps? Because you let yourself have other men when he left you? “Do you love him?” His purrs. 

"Why is that any of your business if I love another man than you.” The last word was like a stab at his cold and dark heart. “You weren’t there anymore.”

“Because you are mine, you were mine the day I first saw you.” His lips were near your ear sending shivers down your spine. “And when I first kissed you” His hand left your cheek to trail down your neck, your collar bone... “And when I tasted your sweet cunt...” He gently caressed your breast, his touch burning your skin beneath your shirt. You leaned against him, savoring him and the burning lust you feel. “you were mine only.” His warm and soft lips met with your shoulder, slowly making his way up your neck. His hand still kneading your breast, you let out a low moan as you gave in. “There you go my love, it wasn’t so hard was it?” He whispered against your ear. “Building a new world without you would mean nothing. So say it, say yes.”

It was wrong. You swore an oath to protect innocent, not annihilate them. You couldn’t give up who you were for him. He had left you with a trail of blood behind him, shattering your heart into millions of pieces you still were picking up. He was your first love and the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, but he chose a dark path you wouldn’t follow him into no matter how much you yearn for him . Not then and not now.

“I would do anything for you, my love.” You turned around and locked gaze with him. His pupils were blown, filled of lust, waiting for you to make a move. 

“Anything?” He nods. “Answer truthfully.” You wanted to ask him if he would stop the war, but he wouldn’t, it wasn’t like him to back down from a fight. He wanted something now and he was impatient to get it, enough that he would dare to come back at the very place he despised most. “Why did you take my rings away, don’t you trust me?”

“I do.” He speaks. “But I think I like you better with only one on this finger.” He speaks before pressing his soft lips to the knuckle of your ring finger. Was he asking you to marry him? “But if you want them back” He starts while shuffling a hand in the pocket of his kimono. “you can have them.” Ten golden bands were in the palm of his hand and inside one of them was engraved with something. You picked it up and analyzed it.

My salvation

On the band of your ring finger, he had wrote these words he once called you. A soft smile crept on your lips innocently and something warmed his heart for the first time in a long time. You looked up at him with the same innocent eyes that made him fall in love with you and the way his lips were curling upward was a genuine smile. There he was, your Suguru.

You were his salvation, the one who would either save him, deliver it from all evil or be his ruin. Whatever it meant to him, it meant a lot. 

He brushed his thumb on your lower lip, gazing it with such lust. “You broke my heart too all those years ago when you refused to join me, but there wasn’t a single day I didn’t think about what those beautiful lips of yours could do.�� Your heart was pounding in your chest as his eyes went back to yours. “They could bring the mightiest sorcerer to his knees.” 

Why don’t you find out? Was what you wanted to say, but your action spoke louder as you pushed yourself on your tip toes and crashed your lips on his in one swift moment that caught him off guard. It wasn’t slow or soft, it was feral and hungry. You wanted him, all of him as if he was slipping away from your grasp. He tossed the rings on the ground before grabbing a hold of you with one firm hand on your hip and the other to the back of your neck. He picked you up with only one of his arm, his mouth never leaving yours, and sat you on top of the dresser next to him. He pulled away and deep inside you, you were afraid he was going to leave again, but instead of leaving, his blown pupils were observing you and your blushed face.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers before dragging his lips across your jaw, while leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your collar bone. All the while his hands and yours were working on the silk blouse you were wearing. You shuffled out of it and Suguru smiled against your skin before his lips found the globe of your breasts still covered with a bra. He unlatched it with ease and freed your nipples only him to cover one back up with his strong large hand and the other teasingly licking the sensitive nub.

You arched your back and your hand found his thick hair that you grabbed hard, making him groan against your nipple. His hands let go of you shortly to undo your pants and taking them off for you. His mouth leaves of your breasts and you are burning up, everything about him is setting you ablaze. The skin of your stomach remains untouched by him and he his not satisfied as wet kisses made their way down until he was on his knees before you, his head near your naked cunt and you nearly begged him to fuck you at the sight of him like this.  

His teeth graze your inner thigh and you mewled at that, you were melting. His bite was soft and what sent you to the edge was when he started sucking the gentle skin getting closer to your core. He was so close to give you what you wanted, but he stopped before even allowing his lips to devour you and looked up at you with a devilish smirk you knew all too well.

His fingers were digging in your thighs as if he was restraining himself to act in his impulses “So what is your answer, my love?”

“Please," You begged, panting like you've been running a marathon. "My King." He smirks satisfied before dipping his head inside your thigh to lick one long stripe off your fold. The sound you made was ecstatic, it felt relieving to have him this way. You sigh in pleasure and it wasn’t enough of a reaction for him and so he buried his face into you, dinking, eating, licking at your pussy like he never had before.

Your back was off the wall and gripping at the furniture beneath you. You screamed as he sucked at your throbbing clit. You didn’t care if anyone was outside. He didn’t care either. Not by the way he laughed against you. “That’s it. That’s it” he said. “You want me to stretch this pussy for you?” You hummed waiting eagerly for his fingers to fill you up. “Use your words.” He whispers before sucking harshly on your clit making you jolt.

“Yes!” You cried. 

“Yes what?” He was getting cocky because you were never one to beg, but for him you seemed to always were and it was getting to his ego.  

“Yes sir.” You breathe hard as you can feel the tip of one finger circling your entrance, lapping the juice all around it and the tip of his finger. 

“Atta girl.” He leans down to kiss your clit and diving his slender finger all the way inside you, making you gasp, eyes shut as you focused on the building tension in your gut. The way it enveloped you, tugging at every nerve in your body.

"Fuck- yes, Suguru.” You moaned.

It was never enough, not until he filled you completely. But he couldn't resist the satisfaction of your pussy clenching around his finger, especially when he added a second, listening to the vulgar sounds of your wetness squelching around him.

He marveled at the sight of your climax; head falling back, a whimper ascending into a moan, your forehead prickling with sweat. It was impossible to tear his eyes from you, to deny himself the vision of you coming undone on his hand. Your ribs shifting with every breath, hugging your breasts as you leaned back. He lifted his other hand to run over the ridges.

You shivered, relaxing against the wall as the last of your orgasm died out, breathing hard. He stood back up and your eyes met, his predatory gaze on you as he put the two digits he used on you in his mouth, licking your juice off of them.

“I could spend hours drinking you, my love.” He leaned closer to you, kissing your lips once and slithering both arms beneath your ass, lifting you back up in his arms. “But I want to fuck you, so desperately.” He admits and you could’ve cum from the way he sounded as he spoke those words. He laid you there on the bed, so gently, but you had other plans. 

You flipped him under you and he chuckled lowly. “I do like my woman in charge.” 

“You said you were thinking about my lips and what they could do.” You smile as you so slowly undo the belt of his kimono freeing his long erect cock out. “And I too want to have my way with you.” You leaned down over the large head of his dick already wet with precum. You looked at him through your lashes and gave him a taste of his own medicine as you licked the slit of the tip in one long swipe. He hissed loudly, his dick twitching, hitting your upper lip. 

You let a dripple of spit slithering down his shaft and wrapped a hand around it, barely closing around it. You lowered your head against him swallowing him the further you could with your hand slowly jerking the base of his cock as you slowly bobbed your head up and down.

“Fuck...” He groans pulling your hair away from your face to get a better look at your wet lips working up and down his length, adding more pressure with your tongue when you get closer to his tip, making him trust in your mouth. You gagged at the sudden jerk of his hips and he chuckles. “Such a dirty girl for me.” He smiles looking at the curve of your ass in the air, before his eyes return to the heavenly sight before him, his lover with his cock in her mouth, barely taking it all in her mouth. He was greedy and he knew it, but he wanted you so close to him. “Relax your throat for me, my love, I want you to take me all in before I fuck this tight pussy of yours.” And you tried to do as he asked as his grip on the roots of your hair tightened and forced you down his shaft. He let out a loud moan that turned into groan when all of his disappeared down your throat. Your gags made him shiver and he decided to use your face as he fucked himself upward in your mouth until he was satisfied. 

You could only comply to him and let him use you, you hummed in pleasure when you tasted his precum on your tongue and it being pushed down your throat by his shaft. Tears were wielding up in your eyes, he was so big, but you wanted this so badly. 

He finally pulled your head back to admire you, his mess. Your lips were puffy and red with spit down your chin. He yanked you under him and pressed his lips to your hungry to taste your mouth again. 

You swallowed thickly as you him lining it up with your pulsing hole.

He laid his hand on your pelvis, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he pushed himself into you. “Fuck” he spat, his head thrown back. He buried himself to the hilt. “Still so tight. But feels so good”

You could only moan, words not being enough for how it felt. 

He caged your head with his forearms as he leaned over you and began to thrust his cock into you. He always started with a steady pace. His length effortlessly stroking over every sweet spot in your pussy. The protruding vein rubbing deliciously over your walls.

The room now being filled with pants and moans from you both, and squelching sounds from your soaked pussy. Your noises were nothing short of pornographic. Both of you. Suguru was just as loud as you were. Moaning your name and swears. His mouth hanging open and eyes in the back of his head. He was lost in the pleasure and that only made him go harder.

He wanted to feel your tight pussy strangle his cock. Squeeze out every last drop of come into you. He wanted you to be his cumdump. He wanted to watch his come ooze out of your still spasming pussy.

“Does he fuck you like I do?” Suguru’s large hand wrapped around your jaw forcing you to look him in his eyes when you’re going to answer him.

“No!” You cried. 

“That’s right, because only I can make you feel this good.” His pace became faster and you could feel your walls tightening, you were so close. “You’re mine.” He grunts. “Only mine.” His words had you shaking. Had you coming. Coming on his cock. He groaned, growled, damn near barked into your ear when you clenched around him. Chanting ‘yes’ in your ear over and over and over. Drilling himself into you. Your body twitching from the overstimulation now taking over you. Your nails were digging in his back as you rode your orgasm at his pace.

But he kept on going. Kept on pounding into you. Ignoring how you screamed. Ignoring the way you thrashed underneath him. The pleasure becoming too much. But still so good.

You could feel it.

The long, thick stings of burning hot come shooting into you. The sensation had you coming a second time. Suguru shivered. A new tightness around him. Tighter than he had felt before. He cried out your name and continued to drive himself into you.

He slammed his lips to yours. His tongue finding it’s way back down your throat. He swallowed all of your noises. Swallowed them and matched them. 

His pace slowed and he finally pulled out of you, his lips never leaving yours. He laid beside you and smiled at you in a way that made your heart ache and yearn for him. 

“I love you Suguru.” You spoke as you caressed his cheek with that same expression you always had towards him, filled with love. He wrapped you in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, my love.” He whispered against your hair as he caresses your back so gently. “In this new world, we will be undefeatable together.” You brought yourself closer to him and kissed the column of his neck as an answer before closing your eyes. 

As you laid there hours later, wide awake your thoughts were running wild. No matter how much you loved him, in this world you were bound to be enemies. You hoped in another you were together with a family of your own, happy, passionate and in love. You scooted out of his grasp, dressed up silently, you carefully picked up your rings scattered across the room and you, his ruination dressed as a salvation, left his compound without ever saying goodbye as he once did to you. No. Your last words were that you loved him, because you still did, you never stopped. You hoped the words you spoke so lovingly will hung in his mind when he will wake up alone. Your heart is slowly breaking at each step you took. It was the last time you would see him until you both meet on the battle field on opposite sides.