#brain kept this in a box until it was the last difficult thing for me to reconcile

[chipped-chimera]

So cracking open the crate of 'actually I had childhood trauma all along!' was unexpected. But now a lot of shit makes a bunch of sense.

[batbirdies]

ADHD and being your own zookeeper

So, I was diagnosed with mixed ADHD in my late 20′s. It’s been a couple years since then and I was recently lamenting to a close friend about the difficult process of working out alternative methods of doing things once you’ve (finally) realized the standard ways don’t work.

With that in mind I thought I would just volunteer some advice I have gathered over the last couple years of attempting to be my own zookeeper.

This will mainly be with an ADHD focus since that’s me but hopefully it will be helpful to lots of ND people.

to start, you’ve probably heard of inviting people over to force yourself to clean. This is.... a method. And it works! until it doesn’t (ie burnout). Basically this is a way to trigger a stress response in yourself that forces motivation. You can do this. I have done this. But I would say this is an absolute last resort and not something you should ever be doing on a regular basis. It is not the healthy way to go about this. So here are my tips on hopefully maintaining your life without needing to resort to this stressful method.

(also I know this is long ADHD peeps, I’m sorry I’m just longwinded it can’t be helped.)

So, to get started

1. Time yourself. 

Sometimes a whole task is overwhelming to think about and starting it feels impossible because the idea of finishing it feels impossible. So what I often do instead is just choose a specificed amount of time (a SHORT amount). I usually do 15 minutes, but you can do whatever you choose, and tell myself I will spend that amount of time on a task (usually cleaning but can be anything). This feels much more managable to me, it’s a definite length of time and I know I am capable of 15 minutes (or whatever amount of time you can manage) of sustained activity. 

also DO NOT keep going after the time is up. Stop. Because if you keep going your brain will then remember this and know that 15 minutes isn’t actually just 15 minutes and then you’re back to the initial problem of being overwhelmed. Pick a time and stick to that time. 

2. Do things the easy way.

When I say this what I mean is “do things the way that sounds easiest to YOU”. Sometimes that is actually, objectively, the harder way to do something. It’s less efficient, takes longer etc, but it feels more doable for whatever reason. Just do it the way you are capable of doing it. 

As an example I needed to clean the litter box really bad but I just kept putting off and then feeling guilty and also gross and instead of just cleaning it I dumped the whole thing and started fresh because it felt like less work. Alternatively on other days I have been planning to dump the whole thing and start fresh but THAT sounds like heavy lifting and being outside but I can manage to just scoop the box like normal. So I do that instead. 

3. Do things part way

This is more something to learn to be ok with rather than a method in and of itself. But along with the first suggestion, 15 minutes sometimes isn’t long enough to complete a task. And sometimes you don’t have another 15 minutes later in the day to finish it etc. But doing part of a task is SO MUCH better than doing none of it. I have started using the mantra “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing what you can.” 

4. Make a list

This is a suggestion I see on tons of (bad, unhelpful) articles online about ADHD and accomplishing tasks. I find that it can be sometimes helpful and sometimes not, depending on what it is I need to get done. For my actual office job, it can be really helpful because I sometimes get frozen because there’s too many things to do and I can’t seem to just pick a place to start. Making a list in this case helps me to just start moving in a specific direction and keep going. This can also be the case with cleaning if you just don’t know where to begin. But do not feel like you have to do this either, because sometimes a list just feels like pressure to accomplish things and that’s not helpful at all.

An alternativey way I have found to make lists in relation to #1 is to make a list of things I will spend X amount of time doing, because as someone whose brain flits between tasks rapidly when I’m not in hyperfocus mode it’s sometimes easier to keep swapping back and forth, however if you do it TOO quickly you don’t accomplish anything. So I try to time things. Ten minutes here, ten minutes there, etc. or whatever amount of time you choose. 

5. Do things the minute they occur to you if at all possible

I’m sure I don’t even need to say this and people will know immediately why, but just literally. You won’t remember. Do not tell yourself you’ll do it later when it’s more convenient you are GOING To forget until you are laying in bed trying to sleep and then go “oh shit I didn’t do the thing”. And for the record it is totally ok to get up and out of bed and go do the thing if it feels managable and won’t keep you up all night. If it will, put an alarm in your phone to remind you the next day at a convenient time. 

6. Get a body double

This is something I’ve always sort of known about but didn’t understand until recently, and it’s actually a thing you can even look up articles about it now. Basically for some unknown reason it will feel easier to stay on task if there is another person with you. I have invited my sister over to hang out with me while I clean my apartment before. The difficult aspect of having someone in person, especially if its for cleaning, is that you have to be ok with them seeing the dirty version. However I have also found this can work almost equally as well over the phone! So totally get on the phone with a friend while you task!

I do advise that you tell whoever you are asking for help this way that that’s what you’re doing. at least for me, depending on the task, if can take up enough attention that it’s hard to maintain conversation. But if they person knows that they can either carry the convo or be chill with silence while they also continue their things on the other end. 

7. use a crock pot

This is obviously cooking specific, but I recently bought myself a slow cooker and it’s been a game changer for making myself cook. For whatever reason it is so much easier to make myself get meals going midday than it is in the evenings. And I’m also much more likely to clean up the mess when I can do it before the food is ready. There are ALSO CROCKPOT BAGS YOU CAN BUY!! SO YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO WASH THE CROCKPOT BETWEEN USES, JUST THE LID! But if the bag leaks or something you can wash the pot part in the disahwasher (and the lid)

8. buy frozen meals

tbh frozen meals are way too small they do not equal an actual meal in my mind, however when you are full on into hyperfocused mode and the idea of stopping to eat is laughable, these will be your rescue. Pop it in the microwave and go back to your thing, eat it while you continue your thing. It’s at least a more healthy and well rounded snack than potato chips, or alternatively, not eating.

9. Make your next appointment before you leave

If you’re anything like me, sometimes making that phone call and scheduling something is like some incomprehensibly unmanagable task even though it will literally take 1 minute. (But then if you have phone anxiety then that complication is thrown in.)

So when possible, after a dentist or doctor appt, make your next one before you leave. Most dentists want you on a 6 month rotation, doctors on a yearly one (chiro monthly etc). I know that is like a crazy long time away to think about having something on your schedule but they’ll call you a day or two before the appt to remind you and if you MUST you can reschedule, but that will at least force you into making the phone call if you end up being unable to keep the appt. (however be aware of cancellation fees etc. this is ALWAYS a good idea because of such things) 

Also ask if you can schedule online, a lot of places have that ability now!!

10. Try new methods and be flexible

As I’m sure is the case for a lot of peope with ADHD, things that work really well one day will not be an ounce of help the next. This can be particularly frustrating because you will think you have found the holy grail method. FINALLY, SOMETHING THAT WORKS!!! I WILL BE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH ALL OF THE THINGS I HAVE STRUGGLED WITH MY WHOLE LIF-- WTF this doesn’t help anymore. 

I have found that when something is a NEW strategy, it helps a lot! and then after a week or two it loses effectiveness. This is fine though, because if you have enough methods you can cycle through them and they are like new again!! It’s like hiding a toy from your cat after it gets bored and then giving it to them again in a month and oh wow! new toy!!

This is where I’m at currently and all of the helpful things I could come up with. I may add things as they occur to me<3

[crimsonblackrose]

11, 35, 37, 43, 86

Hello thank you for the asks! 11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Usually I'm very boring and go for a bowl of cereal and some coffee. Just because it's fast and I generally don't leave myself time for a leisurely breakfast. Which is why if I can fit a nice breakfast or brunch into plans I will. I love brunch and breakfast foods so much. I'm going to put the rest under a read more because it's long.

35. average time you fall asleep? 🤣🤣🤣🤣oh no. So to be a responsible human being who functions I should go to bed at 10pm. And I do say goodnight to my aunt and uncle and put a stop to any movie watching generally at 9ish if I've got work in the morning. However...sometimes I don't go to bed until like 2am. 10pm becomes 2 am in the blink of an eye. And sometimes I'll stare at a word document until i can't keep my eyes open any more and then I'll be like oh I've got plenty of time to write only to realize it's 2am. And there are some nights where sleep is an elusive beast, and I try not to check the time on those nights. But if I'm stressed and worrying or panicking about something I'll put on a podcast until my brain calms down and I assume it's much later on those nights.

It's because I don't get much time to myself throughout the day and I realize I do kinda of the revenge bed time thing. Where I want to stay up and get stuff done and it just doesn't happen, but other times I'm good and get back from being out and go straight to bed. Like a responsible adult. (But it's rare. 🤣) 37. suitcase or duffel bag? Oooh I feel like a lot of these I'm like meh, both are good, but no this one I've got opinions on. Suitcase all the way. Specifically a hard shell suitcase with 360 wheels. Generally when I'm traveling I want to have space for like souvenirs or possibly gifts or heck stuff I don't want to get crushed and I just trust it better in a hardcase suitcase and the 360 wheels are just so lovely, like oh gotta go this way instead of that, my suitcase won't be unruly and will just dutifully follow along. Duffel bags I feel like are best if you're just traveling with clothes. Like sports or something like that. Throw all your soft things in a soft bag and toss it around and no problem. And I just don't travel like that. 43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? All? 🤣 I love jackets. I will say though I don't have a leather jacket. I nearly kept one of my dad's and then I think decided against it last minute because it just bummed me out and I also was swamped in it because he was a giant. But I do love the way they look. And I think I've had a bomber jacket as a winter jacket before, but honestly I prefer longer jackets. Spent most of high school wearing a jean jacket, my dad found it somewhere cheap and it was nice quality so I wore it all the time in the fall and spring or when it was a bit chilly out. But probably I wear hoodies and cardigans the most. Hoodies are generally things I wear around the house and cardigans I wear everywhere. 86. cookies or cupcakes?

oooh difficult question. Cookies are probably the easiest to share. You bake a bunch of cookies and you can throw them in anything. A take out container, a box, a plastic baggie. Easy peasy. Cupcakes however cannot be thrown in anything. The icing will get everywhere, the cake will crumble, it becomes a mess. I was visiting family and made these cupcakes for everyone and my cousin helped me put them in containers to take to my aunts and my aunt decided she wanted my cousin to take her containers back immediately so she shoved all the cupcakes into a big plastic bag, essentially destroying the integrity which meant by the time my other cousin got to try them she ended up giving like the majority of it to her chickens. Which I'm a smidge bitter about. 😅 But cupcakes can also be so absolutely fun. But oddly I think I just talked myself into cookies. 🤣 I mean it's much easier to make an assorted box of cookies instead of a box of cupcakes to give people. Thank you for the asks from this ask game here.

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[nctsjiho]

Your Fault

warnings: strong language, consumption of alchol, mention of death without actual death, very much angst

era: July 7th 2021

❀ NCT 127's 5th anniversary isn't a day to celebrate and be happy for everyone

To Doyoung:

“Happy 5th anniversary oppa!”

“I hope you and the boys are having a great time <3”

JiHo stared at her phone intently waiting for the “sent” at the bottom of her screen to turn into “read”. She had been staring at her phone like that for nearly an hour, yet nothing changed. The girl knew that the boys were busy, but somewhere she hoped that she’d hear from them. Besides the short “wished you could be with us” message she had received the evening before from Taeyong she hadn’t heard from anyone else. Of course JiHo was aware that the boys were busy, but was it a crime to feel left out and maybe want a phone call or something more than a “wished you could be with us” from anyone?

And so JiHo continued to stare at her phone, everything on the small screen getting progressively more blurry as time went on. Her eyes were straining, one almost pressed shut, the other slowly going cross-side. Her right hand, which wasn’t holding the phone, reached out to the glass bottle on her desk. A quick shake letting her know it was empty. So she reached for the other one, opening it skilfully with one hand – like she did with the other two bottles now empty on her desk – and bringing it up to her lips. “Must be nice hm~ Being an idol or whatever…”

“I’m glad you came over.” Sihyun, JiHo’s Esteem manager that lives with her, said as she grabbed the boy’s coat off his shoulders. The piece of clothing, along with his hair, slightly damp caused by the light drizzle outside. “JiHo’s been a bit sensitive and doesn’t let me in her room. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all.” Jaemin watched the woman’s face full of worry. He gave her a small reassuring smile and then glanced at the door leading to JiHo’s room. “I’ll try to talk to her.” Thanking Jaemin, Sihyun then excused herself, telling him she had to run some late night errands.

Not knowing what was happening behind the closed door of the bedroom, Jaemin knocked a few times. “Unnie~ Just leave me- leave me alone.” JiHo hiccupped between her words, her speech sounding a bit slurred. She had been drinking? JiHo?

Without a second thought Jaemin pushed the door open. A jumbled mess of protests escaped JiHo’s lips, but she froze in her chair as soon as her eyes locked with Jaemin. “What… are you doing here?” She muttered to the best of her abilities. “Coming to check up on you.” He neared the girl and poked at the bottles and the mess on her desk. “Clearly you need it.” His tone sounded very much disappointed and for a split second JiHo felt her heart ache, but she quickly turned defensive. “I do not!”

A sigh escaped deep from Jaemin’s chest and he pulled JiHo to sit on the edge of her bed next to him. “Since when do you drink?” It was quiet for a bit. JiHo looked at the bottle of the alcoholic beverage in her hand, swirling it around by circling her wrist and then started to giggle to herself. “A new hobby?” She turned to Jaemin, a big smile on her lips – however Jaemin could see the sadness behind it easily. “It’s fun. Feeling… Nothing! I can barely feel my… my lips.” Her body swayed from side to side prompting Jaemin to grab her by her shoulders and hold her in place. “It’s fun until you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.” He scoffed. “Can’t get a hangover if I don’t sleep.” She said, before turning to her desk. She then pointed at the box of another 9 bottles of alcohol next to it on the floor. “Or if I don’t stop drinking.” She grinned.

“Yah! What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s patience ran dry quickly. He just felt so furious seeing how badly JiHo was treating her own body. She never drank and now she was planning to drink 12 bottles of alcohol? Drinking herself straight into the hospital, and if it weren’t for Jaemin being here, maybe straight into her own grave. “This is strong alcohol! For all I know you can’t even handle it, so what made you decide to drink now huh?” He yelled, anger only rising watching the girl just stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Those same eyes turned to look at her laptop, located on the desk she sat at earlier. The NCT 127 online fanmeeting being streamed, muted.

Of course Jaemin knew it was NCT 127’s 5th anniversary, he knew it must’ve affected JiHo in some way, even if she kept insisting she was going to be fine and was happy for the boys. She even said that she wasn’t “part of the group since debut, so it wouldn’t even be my 5th anniversary” and everyone just had to nod and smile.

“Is that a reason to potentially drink yourself to death?” Jaemin poked her side – maybe a bit too harsh – to gain her attention again; she seemed to be zoning out every few seconds. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m tired of keeping things in.” She sneered at him and it was almost as if she didn’t drink anything. She sounded much more coherent than just a minute earlier. “Aren’t you doing just that though? Drinking on your own. Not letting Sihyun noona in? We keep telling you to talk to us, yet all you do is keep things in. The hyungs even took you out to do stuff and get your mind off things yet you get home and do the thing you always do.”

JiHo felt every drop of alcohol leave her system as she heard the somewhat condescending tone in her friend’s voice. “What the fuck? So this is my fault-“ “Kinda, yes! You just sit here feeling sorry for yourself while everyone is worried over you! We’re your friends for a reason JiHo. There are so many people who care for you, just start fucking talking when you feel down like this.”

The blood inside of JiHo’s veins started to boil and at the same time she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “You think it’s that easy? What am I supposed to say? That I feel upset that I can’t be with 127 now? Okay. Then what about it? Me telling you this won’t change shit!” “At least you should stop lying and stop telling everyone you’re fine when you’re not! Why do you continue keeping things a secret from everyone?” Both JiHo and Jaemin’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “But I guess you’re good at that anyway.” He added in a mumble.

Once the words registered in JiHo’s mind, the bottle that started to hover towards her lips was quickly forgotten. “What do you mean by that?” Jaemin just shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze away from JiHo. “Jaemin? What do-“ “You were supposed to debut in 2016 with NCT U?” JiHo’s eyes widened and she pushed herself to stand up. “How’d you know-“ “Then they asked you to debut in 127? Also with us… In Dream?” “How do you know?” Was the only thing JiHo could say.

“Does it matter?” Jaemin yelled, standing up as well. “Why do you continue to keep secrets from us? Do you not trust us? Is that why you sit here alone? Drinking and crying alone.” The boy watched as JiHo stood in front of him wordlessly. He could see how his words were affecting her, but he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to let JiHo know how frustrating things were for him and his friends. He was well aware of how JiHo had her own worries and hardships, but if she never wanted to confide in anyone, then he was allowed to be mad right?

The only sound filling the room was both of their ragged breathing and the occasional shift from one foot to the other. The silence was almost deafening, a ringing shooting up JiHo’s clouded mind making her feel like she was going to lose it any second now. Her friend sending hurtful glares her way didn’t help ease the growing pain either.

“You’re right. I could’ve debuted in 2016, what about it?” JiHo whispered, afraid that her talking too loud would send surges of pain into her brain. “Why did you hide it from us? Why didn’t you say yes back then?” Jaemin interrogated her. “There was no reason to tell you if it didn’t happen. I didn’t debut so telling you I could’ve wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not in Dream, I didn’t debut in U and clearly now, I’m not in 127 either. Jaemin… It doesn’t matter anymore…” JiHo’s voice stayed as calm as possible.

“How long have you known Jaemin?” JiHo spoke up again as Jaemin didn’t say anything. She felt the tension grow exponentially, the pressure on her body and more noticeably her head increasing and bothering her more as well. “I heard it during that last meeting you had with Yebin noona and Mister Lee Soo Man…” JiHo let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess we’re eavesdropping and keeping secrets from me as well.”

She brought the glass bottle still in her hands to her lips, throwing her head back, to down as much of the liquid as possible. Before she could finish it all in one go, Jaemin gripped the bottle and pulled it away from her. “It’s not the same, JiHo!”

The liquid rushed from between JiHo’s lips, making a wet patch on her grey sweatpants. She could feel her throat and lungs burning as she coughed, caused by the alcohol going down her windpipe instead.

Jaemin watched her with concern painting his features, his hand slowly caressing her back hoping it would ease her violent coughs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He whispered and JiHo gave him a small nod as her body calmed down.

The two 00 liners stayed like that for a while, with Jaemin’s eyes burning at the back of JiHo’s downturned head. Even after JiHo’s body stopped shaking violently, Jaemin’s concern continued to grow. It was only when he noticed the drops, which only could be tears, fall onto her sweatpants and create even more wet spots, that he decided to step in.

Jaemin’s hand securely gripped JiHo’s shoulder and he pulled her up to face him. A gasp left the boy’s mouth as he watched large tears spill from his friend’s eyes. “Ji…” It proved incredibly difficult to speak when he was faced with a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with. Maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have confronted her the way he did. Maybe acting like everything was fine wouldn’t have caused him to witness JiHo at possibly the worst she has felt.

It became a full minute of Jaemin staring into JiHo’s pain- and tear-filled eyes, feeling like he could drown in them himself, before a loud pained sob brought him to reality. The sudden jolt of JiHo’s body forward made Jaemin act quickly and pulled the girl into his chest. His hand, just as quickly, found its way into JiHo’s slightly tangled hair.

“I’m… sor- so sorry.” JiHo sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through even the thicker material of the boy’s jumper. Jaemin could feel his sweater start to stick against his chest, yet what felt more uncomfortable than the damp piece of clothing was the feeling of JiHo’s body shaking in his hold.

As best as he could, Jaemin tried to soothe JiHo. Almost like taking care of a crying toddler, he swayed the girl from side to side. His lips were pressed against the shell of JiHo’s ear as Jaemin whispered affirmations into her skin. “Don’t apologise... Stop apologising.”

“I’m only bringing the team down-” “Shh JiHo. Stop that.” He told her, as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, slowly and carefully detangling it along the way. JiHo pressed her eyes tighter as even more tears spilled from her cheeks and pushed herself closer into Jaemin’s grasp.

Mouth agape, a sob that was building up in his own chest was threatening to fall from Jaemin’s own lips. “You don’t deserve any of this JiHo, you only deserve the best.” JiHo only shook her head, but didn’t dare to speak again. “You do... You really do.”

The night in the capital of South-Korea was never really that dark. Lights always seemed to find their way past the pulled back blinds of any building that wasn’t directly blocked by another one due to bad city planning. So even during the darkest time of day, even when all the lights inside have been dimmed, somehow, it was still light enough to see inside.

So when Jaemin pulled back to look at JiHo’s face, her eyes still tightly pressed shut - which pained him immensely - Jaemin could see the light reflecting off of her wet cheeks.

Feeling two hands being placed on her burning cheeks, JiHo finally decided to open her eyes again. A few more tears rolled over her cheeks onto Jaemin’s thumbs, but luckily no new ones seemed to form. “I’m sorry for everything, all this drama. It’s my fault.” Jaemin shook his head and pulled the girl back, this time to hide his own tears that were starting to form. “Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault.”

“But-” JiHo sighed, her arms found their way around Jaemin’s small waist. “I hate that it’s always about me. I don’t want to be this cliche ‘emotional girl with so many problems and everyone has to pay attention to her problems’. I don’t want that. I don’t want to burden you guys with that, but I also don’t want that kind of attention. I know people already hate me for being in a boy’s group. I don’t want my stupid problems to be the only thing that people assiociate me with NCT.”

“Your problems are not stupid JiHo. And though I understand what you’re saying, I think it’s worse to keep it in. If anything, keeping it in just makes us worry about you more and may get you more attention. JiHo I know things suck right now, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling with everything going on right now, but… Please just talk to us when things are bothering you. We all love you.”

At those last words JiHo loudly sniffled back some stray tears. She pressed herself into Jaemin’s warm embrace and softly nodded her head. “From now on I will. I promise. And…” JiHo looked up at Jaemin, sending him a small smile that he gratefully reciprocated. “I love you guys too. You’re all I have here and that’s enough to make me stay.”

Jaemin’s hand resumed with his previous ministrations. A deep sigh left his lips as he rested his head atop of JiHo’s. “Everything will be just fine.” Jaemin pressed a kiss against JiHo’s hair. “As long as we stay together everything will be just fine.”

[cordria]

Fixing Mistakes - DP

Danny groaned and curled up in a ball, very suddenly awake. His head hurt, his leg sparkled sharp and painful, and he felt oddly sticky. “Ow, ow, ow, ow,” he hissed, a few swear words working their way through his teeth as he kicked his brain into trying to think through what was going on.

His eyes crept open, studying his surroundings. Dark. Quiet. Bars.

Bars?

His eyes opened just a touch more, turning his head. Bars on all sides. He was in a cage.

Memory flooded back into his brain - of the school bell ringing, of walking through the park with Sam, of cold rushing down his back, of an unfortunately successful ambush by the ghost world’s most annoying hunter. “Damn it, Skulker,” he whispered.

Having determined himself to be alone in the room full of cages, Danny sat up and slowly pushed fingers through his hair, searching for the source of the pain. It was from right over his left ear, a dull throbbing that was definitely sore, but no blood. Head trauma. Something that would heal with time, nothing to be done about it for now. 

He turned his attention to his leg, noting with a frown all the glowing blood smeared across the bottom of the cage. He poked and prodded at his leg, locating the worst of the damage: a huge slash down the side of his right leg. Almost as long as his fingers could spread, it was already mostly sealed over - thank Clockwork for not being knocked out until he was in ghost form. In human form, the blood loss would have killed him. 

The fact that a slash that big was almost sealed over made him wrinkle his nose. That had to have taken hours and hours. Perhaps overnight. He’d been out a long time.

He sighed. “I was having such a good day, too.” 

Although the cage wasn’t big enough to stand up in, he tried putting his foot on the ground and putting weight on his leg. Would he be able to stand once he’d gotten out of the cage? The pain sharpened, making him gasp and collapse. “Nope, nope, nope,” he whispered. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, don’t do that again.”

Blood started to ooze from the gash again. He’d broken open the scab. 

With a scowl, he pushed and pulled himself, maneuvering until he was leaning up against the door. From the fizzy feeling against his skin, knew they wouldn’t be something he could phase through. He’d have to find a different way out. He reached a hand out through the bars to pull at the padlock, studying it. It was the same type of padlock Skulker always used for locking his cages closed. The tiniest of smiles curled the corner of Danny’s lips. 

It wasn’t quite true that ghosts couldn’t learn. Skulker had learned new hunting techniques over the last eighteen months. Skulker had learned to keep Danny in human-proof cages. But ghosts learned so very slowly, and struggled with putting together facts they couldn’t see. Skulker knew Danny could get out of his cages - but, never having witnessed Danny perform the feat, couldn’t figure out how. And so he kept doing the same thing over and over.

Danny squirmed and moved around, digging a little box out of one of his pockets. Sam had gotten it for him for Christmas last year, along with lessons as to how to use it. Lock-picking was a skill Danny had assumed would be difficult, but it turned out to be hilariously easy, if a bit time consuming. Danny made sure he kept the kit with him.

It took longer than he’d hoped to open the lock. The pain from his leg kept distracting him and the hit he’d taken to his head was making it hard to focus. But he eventually placed all four of the tumblers, gave them a twist, and the lock fell open. 

He grinned, short and sharp, and worked the lock back through the rings on the cage, catching it before it could hit the ground. “Screw you, Skulker,” he whispered, pushing open the cage door and floating himself out, putting the lock into his pocket. He was careful to keep his leg from hitting the ground - even the smallest movements sent sharp shards into his mind. “I’m keeping this as a souvenir.”

Just before he was going to leave, Danny heard a sound from the corner. He tensed, instantly assuming Skulker had been hiding. The glow around Danny kicked up a notch with his anxiety, and he twisted around.

Nothing?

His hands came back down, letting the tenseness fade away. He floated forwards a few steps, noticing a cage far into the darkest corner of the room. There was the faintest glow coming from inside - it was almost like the afterglow of looking at a bright light for a moment too long. Too faint to be a ghost in any reasonable shape. “Hello?” he whispered.

“Mind if I borrow your lock pick set? I lost mine.”

Danny hesitated. The voice was very… human? And didn’t sound at all in pain or sick. The scratchy voice was also not bothering to whisper. “Who are you?” Danny asked, floating closer.

“I’m me, obviously.”

“Helpful,” Danny muttered, drawing up just close enough that if something were to lunge and reach through the cage, it wouldn’t be able to grab him. An odd scent tinged the air, making Danny’s nose wrinkle. He held up a hand, palm towards the thing in the cage, and upped the power flowing through his hand. The glow kicked up and, like a flashlight, illuminated the contents of the cage.

It was a human male, raising a hand to block his eyes from the glow. Red-orange hair raggedly pulled back into a ponytail and a beard that looked hacked short with a knife. Perhaps in his twenties, skinny and tall, and dressed in layers of rags. He had a cloak-looking blanket wrapped around him, and calloused feet wrapped in cloth that left his toes hanging out. Dried, reddish-colored flowers dangled everywhere from his clothes. Danny blinked at the man, startled. “You’re human.”

Teeth glittered as the man smiled - an easy, pleasant smile. At least two of the teeth were missing. “Mostly, anyways.” The scar-covered hand lowered. Eyes that were too bright and green to belong to a human peered at him, blinking against the light. “Lock picks? I’d like to get out of here before the hunter comes back.”

“Skulker’s annoying with his cages,” Danny agreed, lowering his hand and the light. His brain wasn’t working quite right. This… human?... was something like him? ...How? “What happened?” 

“I was just a tad too slow. Lock?”

Danny glanced over his shoulder, noted the still-quiet room, and settled his body gently back down at the ground. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning from the pain. Then he opened up the little box of picks and started to work on the lock. It was easier from this side, where he could see what he was doing.

“How did it come to be that a ghost knows how to pick a lock?” the human asked.

“This ghost gets hunted a lot. Not the first time I’ve seen the inside of Skulker’s cages,” Danny muttered. “Friend got me the lock pick set.”

“A human lock pit set.”

Danny hummed. “And how did it come to be a human in the ghost zone?” There was a soft click. He twisted and yanked the lock off.Danny floated back up in the air, fighting a wince of pain, and nodded. 

“Very long story. Too long for telling inside this lair.” The human pulled himself out of the cage, unwinding his long limbs and stretching upright. From this close, Danny could see the young man was incredibly lean and tall. Too thin. Too tall. Even though Danny was floating, the man’s head was on level with his. Something was off with this human, and it made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise. 

This close, Danny could see the dried flowers hanging around his neck were blood blossoms. Before Danny could float backwards and out of the way, the man reached out and clapped Danny on the shoulder, still with that same easy grin. “Thank you for the rescue.”

“Do you…” Danny hesitated, thinking about the fact that the man was a human and they were on a floating island haunted by a hunting ghost, “need a lift? Like, to get somewhere?”

“Away from here would be nice.” The human’s smile faded just a bit. He was studying Danny. “I’m not a flyer. I’d appreciate a lift to… anywhere, really, that’s not right here.”

Danny held out his hand. “You got a name, human?”

The man grabbed his wrist, his fingers burning hot against Danny’s cold skin. “Flynn.”

The feel of the blood blossoms tingled down his arm, an interesting counterpoint to the drums beating against his brain and the stabbing pain in his leg. Danny lifted the human off the ground and took the shortcut through the window, back out into the glowing green of the ghost zone. “Nice to meet you, Flynn. I’m Danny.”

[writing-in-april]

Soured Nostalgia

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle.

A/N: hey heeeyyy everybody- here’s a fic I’ve been really excited to share with everyone. It’s my eleventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! This was the original request (I made it a little different lol I hope you like it)I had a fun time with it mostly cause I totally think Spencer and Elle had something going on at some point 😉 Plus I got to incorporate older angsty post prison Spencer and mention how he used to be a little baby ☺️ I’m curious to hear y’all’s thoughts about the Reidaway ship, or really anything so feel free to drop an ask to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Joking about being jealous???, Reidaway in the past, Spencer being sad about the people who’ve left him, Sub Spencer, Only a bit of dry sex, Masturbation, Unprotected sex, Use of a belt to restrain, A few taps on the cheek, Reader’s hand is around Spencer’s throat for a second

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2k

Reminiscing on the past was difficult depending on how the story had ended. Memories that may have been happy could turn too painful because of the ending result. Age turned the memories into unreliable accounts as well, unable to truly remember how things had been back then and how you had truly felt.

Memories were still something to hold onto and cherish even though they got twisted with age and opinion. Nostalgia, a sentimental or wishful affection for the past, was an addictive feeling even if it made you cry. It remained addictive even if most of your past memories had hurt you with no sentiment attached. Everyone always chased the euphoric feelings they had when looking at the ghosts of their past. Sometimes even when looking back you can find something that had once soured had turned sweet again.

Spencer had many memories that he was no longer able to look back upon for a host of reasons. Most often it was because he could no longer bear to look back on a memory of someone who had left him. Whether it was his Dad, Gideon, Hotch, Blake, Elle, and many others, looking back at them just made him often feel like everyone in his entire life had left him.

That wasn’t true of course, he still had his Mom- and you. Even with his Mom there were still many of his memories with her were still stained with guilt, though that had gotten better with time and with your help.

You had begun helping him find the benefit in looking back, trying to make the soured nostalgia a bit sweeter again. It was getting easier as time ticked by for him to open up to you about everything in his past, the good and the bad. At first you had been staring at a wall that he had been building higher and higher throughout the years, it was daunting how tall it was. When you helped take a sledgehammer to it, making it crumble beneath your effort, he pulled away for a while. He felt comfortable by himself behind his own Great Wall until you showed him the benefits of sharing the secrets he held behind it. But, you still stayed, helping him as much as you could until he was willing to open up.

It had been many months since you started your effort to help him break it down. At some point in the last months you had both fallen into a relationship, a romantic one. What had once been a platonic relationship forged from shared interests evolved into a romance emerging from the rubble of his wall.

He had even given you a key to his apartment at one point, which he had never done with anyone except the bureau. Emily was the one that really had it, but that was strictly for work reasons. This was a show of trust which was much more helpful than his wall that had reached the heights of a skyscraper.

A simple key soon turned into you staying at his place more often than at your own. You had casually mentioned one day while watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries that you basically lived here now. It was a true statement, most of the clothes you wore on a daily basis had been given a spot in his dresser and the toothbrush you kept there was not the one you used for travel- that one was at your place. You had begun to put your mark on Spencer’s life in a more permanent way than before.

When he had spontaneously suggested the next day that you should move in with him, you knew that your small comment had stuck in his brain. It was easy to agree to, you had said you basically already lived here, plus living with the love of your life sounded like a dream. You only had a few things that you wanted to bring over and it was mostly decorative stuff that you could’ve let go if Spencer hadn’t insisted that he wanted you to make the space your own.

While turning the space that was once solely Spencer’s into something for you both, you had found a small clear box with a blue lid, filled with pictures. Spencer didn’t have a lot of personal pictures framed, there was one with you and him by the bed, one with the team by his desk, one with him and Morgan on the living room wall, and one with you two and his Mom also hung up in the living room.

When you had shown him the box he could tell you were curious, letting you look through it without a moment of hesitation. In the past Spencer would have been wary sharing his memories with you, but now he’d let you look. If only you could get him to look at the box with you.

You weren’t surprised he didn't want to look with you once you saw the people littered throughout the snapshots. Varying people that had left were in most of them, even some you never met.

Ones with Hotch and Gideon- even one from a long time ago with his father buried at the bottom. As you browsed through them you were glad he was able to hang up that photo of him and Morgan, at least they had parted with some closure. It also helped that he still saw him regularly, he had never fully left like some of the people from his past.

One picture in particular stood out to you, it was another team photo, they seemed more carefree in this one compared to now. There was baby Spencer, before you had known him, in a birthday boy hat smiling with the rest of the team. You guessed it was around his 23rd or 24th birthday, going by the slick back gelled hair he had sported in his earlier years. He seemed so much more different back then, perhaps more carefree compared to now. But, he also seemed much more unsure of himself, maybe a bit self conscious. In the photo you could tell he was nervous, just by the look in his eyes. He still had that same look in his eyes whenever he felt nervous.

Then you looked closer at where his eyes were focused on, there was a clear line of sight from him to Elle. Elle was way less nervous in this captured moment compared to Spencer, though from what you had heard she had always been like that.

Your gaze on the photo was broken when Spencer then came into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

You decided to test the waters to see if he might want to take a look at the photo with you, “Why do you look so nervous in this photo?”

He stopped the path he had been taking, then stood still for a second before deciding to sit next to you on the couch. Straining his neck he gazed over at the photo you were holding in your hands. It was silent for a while as he looked over it, stopping to look at his old team. Some of the team still remained intact, namely JJ, but she wasn’t the same as she had been all those years ago. You let him take it from your hands, so he could look at it closer. He cleared his throat a little, though his voice still came out slightly raspy when he spoke, though he didn’t answer the question you had asked him,“It’s the only picture I ever had taken with Elle…”

“I know you guys were- close.” You didn’t ask your previous question again, sensing that it was still too much to talk about in specifics. What he was telling you right now was even more than what he told you, only telling you that she was his first, everything. Any supplemental information was from talking discreetly to JJ about it one night because you were somewhat curious.

Tiptoeing around the relationship you knew that they had previously was like walking through a minefield. You tried the best that you could to avoid making him too upset. When you got him to open up, it wasn’t by forcing him to talk all at once. Busting the wall down was done brick by brick, not all at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t jealous of her.” His comment was said with less sadness than before. It was nice to see a glimpse of the weight coming off of his shoulders, even if it was just for a moment.

“What? Do you want me to be jealous of her?” You teased, lightheartedly so he wouldn’t dwell on the sad aspect of their past relationship. He smiled softly which deepened when you playfully stuck your tongue out and crossed your arms.

“No- you’ve got nothing to be jealous about…” Any playfulness in his voice was erased as his sentence trailed off. You didn’t say anything for a moment in case he wanted to continue his thought. And, after a moment of silence he did, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left…”

“I know- I was just joking about being jealous. I know how much she meant to you…” His eyes moved away from you, at first you thought it might be because he was still feeling the pain of losing her all those years ago. But, there was something else in his eyes, it naturally made you curious, “What are you thinking about?”

“If you were jealous- what would you have done?” His mind must have shifted away from thinking about the ending of his memories with Elle, which was a step in the right direction. At least he wasn’t avoiding the topic all together, he was still talking about her in a sense.

You bit your lip, thinking about what direction you could take this in. You weren’t going to lie, your mind had gone straight into the gutter at his suggestion and by the look on Spencer’s face so had his.

“Hmmm…” You pretended to ponder while you moved from where you were sitting on the couch to sit on something better, Spencer’s lap. Straddling him then with ease you looked down at his face tracing his cheeks with your fingers. His pupils were blown wide now, almost completely devouring his iris that had become a small ring. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to continue your thought obediently, “I think I would do things to you that I suspect she never did.”

He gulped hard, hard enough that you could hear it. You continued to trace your fingers along his face, sometimes picking a lock of his hair to twirl, waiting for him to say something else like you knew he wanted to. It only took a few more seconds of your touches and your eyes staring into his own before he asked, “C-Can you show me?”

You stopped your movements, pausing for dramatic effect before crushing his lips onto your own. He squared into your mouth at first, clearly taken off guard by your sudden kiss. Before he had processed what was going on enough to let you, you forced your tongue into his mouth, earning you a delicious moan from him.

When you moved again suddenly, separating your mouth with his for just a moment, he tried to chase your lips. Pushing a finger to his lips you then used that to push him back into the couch, then answering his question, “Gladly.”

You kept your finger on his mouth to seal them shut. He could have opened it easily to respond to you, but he wanted to see what you might do next.

Instead of going back to kissing him you started to pull his belt off of him. It was difficult with one hand, taking much longer than it would be with two. But, you still kept your finger rested in the position most people use to shush someone.

Once the belt had finally been pulled from the belt loops of his slacks you finally removed your finger from his mouth. He still remained quiet, his eyes following your every move intently. You then went to work, pinning his hands above his head, then beginning to restrain them with his belt.

“Did she do this to you?” Goading him while you looped the belt around his hands. You made sure to go as slow as possible while you restrained him just to make it last longer until you gave him what he wanted. You even began to grind down on his cock a little bit, it obviously ached to be free from its confines in his trousers by how strained the slacks were getting.

“No!” His voice was broken and breathy, exactly how you wanted it as you tightened the belt around his hand a little more.

Once you were satisfied that the belt was tight enough you got off of him to remove the shorts you had been wearing, along with the rest of your clothes. Normally when you were naked and Spencer was clothed it would be when you were underneath him as a sort of power play. In this position, where he couldn’t move without fear of consequences while you restraddled him completely naked was almost even more empowering.

To play with the dynamic even more you had him remain confined in his slacks for a while longer, while you touched yourself. You were already quite wet from seeing Spencer in this position and exerting that power by pumping your fingers in you while he could do nothing had you dripping onto his slacks.

Spencer’s jaw had gone slack while watching you moan above him, completely speechless from your actions. It was almost comical and entirely too easy to tease him about, “Close your mouth you might catch flies.” His mouth clenched shut at that. It soon fell slack again at your next words while you brought yourself closer to the edge with your fingers, “What? Did she never do this for you?”

All Spencer could do was sit there and take it, shaking his head side to side, only a little so he could keep his eyes on you. You decided to be merciful, pulling your fingers out of you just before you orgasmed. You wanted to finish at the same time as him anyway.

Finally, you pulled his aching cock out of his slacks. It was throbbing in your hand as you spread your wetness with the fingers that had been inside you. Because you had edged yourself earlier, you couldn’t take teasing him any longer. You lined the head of his cock that was red and weeping up to your entrance, sinking down as fast as you could take him. While you sunk down you rubbed your clit in slow circles, not enough to make you orgasm, but enough to make it easier to take him.

Once you had fully taken him you wasted no time, immediately beginning to build up a fast pace. And, of course you couldn’t help but goad him again,

“Did she make you feel this good?” Your pace you had chosen was rough, bouncing and rolling your hips with reckless abandon while he had to take it without being able to move. He could have thrusted up into you even without the use of his hands, but he had one too many of your punishments in the past to be willing to break the rules so explicitly. Now if he ever broke the rules now it was him subtly bending them. Though, you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back into his head that he had no intention of doing that tonight. It felt too good to be used like this by you.

He still had not answered you though, not on purpose, but you still needed an answer. Tapping his cheek a few times, just hard enough to get his attention. It caused him to whine, but he still didn’t give you an answer. Since that didn’t work you decided to ask again, “I asked you a question. Did she make you feel this good? Did she use you like this?”

To add an extra edge to your words filled with a deadly tone you reached one of your hands forward to grasp around his neck. To make him look at you directly you forcefully tilted his neck, eyes once again trained on yours. He finally found it in himself to answer, “It felt good with her, but it feels best with you! I love you!”

“Good.” You simply stated and dropped your hold on his neck so you could return it to its place on his chest, using it as leverage to help you continue your fast pace. Your orgasm was fast approaching, his cock hitting you in the perfect spot, all you needed was a bit more stimulation. When you brought your hand down to run fast circles onto your clit, you soon fell apart above him. Spencer couldn’t help but look up at you in awe, speechless at how beautiful you look while you writhed on top of him.

Your own release pushed Spencer close to the edge and he started to beg, “I’m gonna cum! Please, can I?”

His hands had tightened into fists above him, knuckles going white over the effort of keeping them right where you had placed them originally. You were pleased with the way he had begged, glad that he had asked permission before even thinking about cumming. You still left him in suspense for a bit longer as you continued to work yourself on his painfully hard cock. Pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin under his collar was admittedly just to torture him a bit longer before you finally gave the command.

“Cum for me then.” Spencer followed your command eagerly, taking only two more of you bouncing on top of him to release inside you with a groan. While he rode out his release his lips captured around one of your pebbled peaks, sucking hard to get one last moan out of you.

Slumping forward after you had both finished and you had taken the belt off his wrists with the promise you’d lotion them up after you cuddled. You rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to stay as close as possible for a little while longer. He started tracing his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing you even further, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Before your eyes closed shut in post coital sleepiness your mind wandered a bit back to Elle. Elle had been an important figure in his life, his first real connection with someone special. Sure you teased about being jealous, but you thought it was important to tell him that you were ok with him thinking back on her. You knew he loved you. It most likely would take time till he was able to think or talk about her without a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of how it all ended.

He hadn’t told you exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in all of the gaps. You turned your head, eyelashes fluttering when you nuzzled into his hair. Then you spoke quietly just enough so the sound could travel the short distance to his ear, “You should frame the picture, you look cute in it. And, I meant to say it earlier, I love you too.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie

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Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie

[teddy06writes]

Why Would I be?

requested by this anon: “could you do Eret with a male reader that was manipulated in a past relationship so reader has very low standards and Eret is just kind of shocked?” 

Eret x Male!reader

trigger warnings: mentions of past manipulation

premise: kinda just the ask

{I use all of Erets pronouns, if you don’t like that then leave}

“belp” speaking

‘blep’ talking

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, I’m going to head out to see some of my friends,” Alastair called, “But I’ll be back in time for dinner!” 

“Okay!” You said, looking up from your notebook. 

A few moments later you heard the door to the apartment close, and sighed quietly to yourself.

Trying to focus on your studying you looked back at your notes, trying to ignore the swirling thoughts in your head. 

After a while you gave up, pushing your chair back and staring at the ceiling, allowing your thoughts to drift toward your partner, comparing him to the last guy you’d been with.

He’d been an alright guy, in the beginning, always polite and kind, making dates super often. But then things had changed, he seemed to get distant, snapped more easily, fights- though they were so one sided you could hardly call them that- happened  more and more often.

You could remember the strange, stretching, silences that would follow a fight, the days where you could feel his gaze piercing into you, waiting for something. 

As these fights continued you seemed to find that the waiting, was for you to apologize, and when it became apparent that you wouldn’t he’d crack jokes, acting like nothing had happened. 

Now Alastair never did things like this, but you were always wary, always hurriedly throwing up more walls, always skirting around possible conflicts and trying to be as agreeable as possible. 

The first time your ex had apologized it was just before you were going to confront him, ask him why he kept making you apologize, but he’d cornered you in your kitchen, opening his arms for a hug, and murmured apologizes, saying he’d been worried about how quiet you’d been being, wishing you’d come back. 

Who were you to deny him?

That was how you’d found yourself repeating the cycle over and over and over until one day he took it too far, storming out after the fight, only coming back to get his stuff. 

You were still terrified that the same would happen with Alistair, that you would say something wrong, something she didn’t like, and it would blow up in your face and end with him leaving. 

~~

After a while of over thinking your current relationship, comparing it to your last, and heightening your anxiety, you got up, heading out of your office and pulling your phone off the charger to find that much more time had passed than you thought. 

Alastair: ‘I might be a bit late :( sorry’

(y/n): ‘it’s okay’ 

Alastair: ‘I’ll pick up the take out on the way back though :)’

(y/n): ‘:D’

You set your phone down, sighing as you went to sit on the couch, thinking of how it could be worse, you’d spent many a night waiting up, or sitting alone when no one came.

Pulling up your favorite show you sat back, content to watch for a while, until a little more than an hour later Alastair came through the door, carrying a pizza box, “Hey darling!”

“Hi!” You chirped, quickly pausing your how and getting up to take the box from him, “I thought we were getting burgers- not that theres anything wrong with pizza, pizza’s good.” You quickly added. 

She frowned, “You alright?”

“Yeah- yeah just fine.” You stuttered. 

“If you say so- oh uh the burger place was closed by the time I got there, we can get burgers soon though if you want.” 

You nodded, “I mean we don’t have too- not if you don’t want to.”

They looked at you for a moment longer, opening there mouth questioningly before closing it again, slowly deciding upon, “Well sorry I was late, traffic got pretty bad.” 

You shrugged, quickly moving to get plates for the pizza, “No biggie, I’ve waited longer for things.” 

You could hear him sigh slightly from behind you, and your anxiety flared, desperately forcing you to throw up another wall, sitting a bit away from her on the couch as you came back. 

This was fine- totally fine. you told yourself.

~~ “Oh my god (y/n)!”

You blinked, looking up as Alastair rushed into the apartment, oh god, what had you done to male them mad?

“I’m so so so sorry! I didn’t mean to stand you up like that! My brain totally wasn’t working! I’m sorry! I should’ve remembered!” Suddenly he was sitting next to you, “Forgive me? I’ll make it up I swear.” 

“Oh- it’s- it’s fine. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I didn’t remind you. Besides, it was just one date.” You chuckled nervously.

She frowned, “What do you mean? Why would you apologize for my wrong doing?” 

“I didn’t remind you.” You explained, fiddling with your fingers, waiting for them to explode and yell at you. 

“Why would you need to remind me? It was my own fault that I forgot dearest.” Alastair said, gently trying to grab your hand. 

You pulled away, “Shouldn’t you be mad at me? It was my fault, clearly you were thinking about something else and got busy with work. I should’ve scheduled for a different time.” 

“(y/n),” His voice was deadly serious, “Why the hell would I be mad? This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own.”

You blinked, looking at your partner, confused and mumbling “But it’s always my fault. I always screw everything up.” 

“Who told you that?” She asked gently.

“Him.” You didn’t need to specify for Alastair to quickly pull you into their arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“He was wrong. You shouldn’t have to apologize for those things, or tell me that its okay when I end up late, or can’t bring home your favorite foods when you ask.” 

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m sorry!” 

“Darling you’ve nothing to be sorry for, this was my fault.” He repeated. 

“Not for that,” You hid your face in her shoulder, “I’m sorry that I’m so difficult. That I- I- i can’t just be normal about this stuff. That he made me put up so many walls that keep you out. You should be mad for having to deal with that.” 

They pressed another kiss to the top of your head, “Why would I be? I’ve got the best boyfriend in the world. Darling I don’t care how many walls you have, I’ll work to break them down. If you apologize for something that wasn’t you, I’ll remind you its not your fault. When I’m late hold me accountable okay? And if I do something like this you’ve got every right to be mad at me. I swear- I will never be mad at you for having low standards because of some stupid ex.” 

You could feel tears slipping out, burying your face in his neck, quietly murmuring, “Thank you.” 

[221bshrlocked]

VIII. Wanting

Pretend You Don’t See Her! Masterlist

Pairing: Mob!Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader

Words: 3408

Warnings: A hint of angst. Some swearing. Longing glances and touches. Shameless flirting. Smut. Dom/Sub dynamic if you like squint. Rough-ish sex. 

A/N: HAVE SAFE SEX PEOPLE. WEAR A CONDOM PLEASE. And let me know how I’m doing in the comments. Only two parts left!! Thanks and enjoy :)

Returning to the lounge was, to say the least, an odd feeling. You were in Chris’ place for what, three, maybe four, days? You weren’t sure what Sebastian was thinking most of the time. It was obvious things were far from normal but you expected him to be a little more open, more loose, around you after your conversation and...the time you spent with him in the bedroom. But he didn’t push you to do anything else after that. As a matter of fact, his touches remained innocent and light, as if he didn’t fuck your brains out days before. 

When Chris came back and saw the two of you, he instantly knew what happened and teasingly told Sebastian that he would have to pay for someone to fumigate the room. You turned away and pretended you weren’t listening to the two men talk about you as if you weren’t right there. 

Once they figured out how to deal with who you now knew as Felix, they turned to you and asked if you had ever seen anything suspicious from any client or employee in the lounge. You told them you kept your head low most of the time and spoke when only spoken to, smiling shyly at Sebastian when he grabbed your hand and placed it in between his.

“I wish I could be more helpful, I really do. It’s just- I’ve learned not to pay too much attention to customers, it makes things easier.”

“That’s alright Y/N, you have nothing to apologize for. Believe it or not, you’ve already done so much. Now we know how far Felix is willing to go. He wanted to play dirty so-”

“And that’s all that matters.” Sebastian cut Chris off and narrowed his eyes at him, a gesture which you’ve come to learn meant for Chris to not say anything else. Chris sighed deeply before standing up and heading towards the door. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours then?” He asked and you turned to Sebastian just as he nodded at him.

“I’ll drop you off to get a change of clothes.” Sebastian said right before moving to the other end of the couch and grabbing his jacket.

“But I- I thought that you’re not supposed to be in that part of the city?” You weren’t sure what Sebasitan was playing at and you had a feeling he was being purposely stubborn to prove a point to the other man.

“If you think I’m leaving you for another second after what happened, then you’re sorely mistaken. I got you into this mess and I sure as hell won’t be leaving you to face the consequences by yourself.” Sebastian’s tone was harsher than he liked but he needed you to know that he wouldn’t be leaving you. You were too important.

“I’m sorry, for causing all of this. The last thing I expected when I came for the job is to be such a burden.” You looked away when you saw his eyebrows furrow even deeper, moving towards the stairs to change when suddenly, a pair of strong arms were wrapped around you, pulling you roughly towards his chest and tightening when you tried to turn around in his arms.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me sweetheart. I don’t regret a single thing when it comes to you. Not a single moment.” You managed to turn your face enough to look at him, barely managing to nod before Sebastian was leaning forward and softly passing his lips over yours. You moaned into the kiss, melting against him as his hand moved from your waist to your neck, not squeezing but just holding you there so he could deepen the kiss. When he felt your hand reach back and scratch his neck, he growled before instantly pulling away, knowing very well that if this continued, he’d be balls deep in your sweet cunt until you were begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Sebastian swore and forced his eyes to look away from your flushed face and your messy hair. “Go on baby, get dressed. I’ll be waiting here.” He gulped and fixed his hair, turning around and heading to the kitchen so he wasn’t tempted to pull you towards him and pin you into the couch. 

You nodded before making your way up the stairs and trying to distract yourself from how intense Sebastian was. Quickly getting dressed, you came back down and saw Sebastian waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. He stretched out his hand and smiled at you, his lips curling to his ears when you took his hand and squeezed it. 

He didn’t let go of your hand once as you drove back to your place. There were occasional longing glances and soft smiles but neither of you said anything, basking in the comfortable silence of the car. When you were close to your place, Sebastian momentarily let go of your hand and reached into his glove box, throwing you an apologetic look as he reached for the two guns, quickly shoving them into the holster beneath his jacket and clearing his throat to break the suddenly awkward silence. You shook your head and reached over for his hand, turning to the window as you brought his hand to your lap and drew lazy patterns on it. If Sebastian was surprised by your reaction, he didn’t show it, smiling to himself because you weren’t lying when you said that you weren’t afraid of him.

As he pulled up near the building, he raised your hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” There were so many hidden confessions behind his words and you nodded at him. Sebastian walked out of the car and around to your side, holding the door open for you as his eyes took in his surroundings to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. Placing his hand on your lower back, he led you towards the gate of the building and stayed close behind you as you unlocked the door and walked in. As the two of you ascended the stairs, Sebastian thought of an idea and hoped you wouldn’t turn him down when he did ask you. 

Minutes later, you were walking into your apartment and telling him to make himself at home.

“It’s not much but- well, this isn’t your first time here.” Sebastian could tell you were a little uncomfortable that he was here and he hovered at the door once he shut it.

“I was thinking,” Sebastian started and let his eyes roam more freely, watching as you grabbed some clothes from the closet before moving into the bathroom, “why don’t you pack everything you need and stay with me.” He was met with silence and realized he may have crossed a line. When you came out of the bathroom a second later, hair tied back in a ponytail and shirt half-buttoned, Sebastian cleared his throat and stepped towards you.

“I want to protect you and I can’t do that if you’re here. You don’t have to decide now but I’d-” He didn’t like what he was saying but he also didn’t want to seem overbearing or controlling. 

“Okay.” You cut him off, buttoning up your shirt before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. 

“Okay?” Sebastian was surprised at how quick your decision came, following you to the bathroom and leaning against the door as he watched you freshen up.

“Yeah. I mean, I feel like I’m intruding already but it’s not like I’ll be staying in your room or anything.” You continued and wiped your face before grabbing the skirt and pulling down the pants you were wearing. Sebastian turned around immediately, eyes widening at how comfortable you were with him.

“Would...would that be such a bad idea though?” He shut his eyes and thought back to when he had you writhing underneath him, hoping the question wasn’t too forward. When he heard you laugh at him, he turned around and narrowed his eyes at you because he wasn’t trying to be funny.

“Sorry it’s just, you’re asking me to move in with you and maybe into your room, yet you’re turning around when I change...even though you’ve already seen me. I mean it when I say I don’t want to intrude, you should feel free to take any calls without me breathing down your neck. It’s your home after all. And I’m apparently making you uncomfortable by changing around you so-” Sebastian chuckled at your blunt response, clenching his jaw as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable babe, you’re making me hard. And you’re making it really difficult for me to not bend you over this fucking counter and fuck you until everyone in this goddamn street knows who’s making you feel good.” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and you tilted your head to the side before stepping towards him, balancing your weight on his feet and leaning up so you could meet his height. As he felt your fingers dig into his chest, he found the fabric of his pants tightening around his crotch. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that idea.” You whispered into his ears before stepping away and zipping your skirt, taking one last look in the mirror before slipping past Sebastian and smiling when he didn’t bother hiding the tent on his pants. 

He remained standing where he was, waiting until you collected everything you had, which wasn’t much, and moved to the front door. He took a deep breath before moving past you and down the stairs, not bothering to say anything else because he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last teasing remark you’d throw at him.

An hour later, you were back in the lounge serving tables and moving through the growing crowd. You thought it wouldn’t be as busy following the events of the other night but it was somehow bustling with energy. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before Chris showed up again and asked how you were doing. You told him about Sebastian’s offer and watched as he smiled before looking at his boss sitting at the end of the bar.

“Fucking finally,” he winked at you before moving towards the table, and you could tell instantly that he was already teasing Sebastian about you because not a second later, Sebastian was narrowing his eyes at you and shaking his head. You pretended you didn’t know what was happening and shrugged your shoulders, walking back to the bar and waiting until the song playing on the stage ended before making rounds again. Sebastian left shortly after and you spent the rest of the day moving between the second floor private lounge and the bar, not taking into account how late it has already been.

When your shift came to an end, you moved to the private rooms in the back and threw yourself on one of the couches to rub your feet. The door slammed open not ten minutes later and in came Chris, face turning a deep shade of red as he headed towards you.

“What happened?” You stood up and braced yourself to hear the worst.

“Shit...I can’t tell you right now but- fuck okay I’m sorry I have to ask this Y/N but I think you’re the only one that can manage to calm him down. I’m pretty sure if I let him out of this building he’ll do something he’ll regret later. Can you go to him, please? It’s not your job I know but-”

“Where is he Chris?” You cut him off, putting your shoes back on before heading towards the door,

“In his office.” Chris watched as you made your way down the hallway and passed the two guards who instantly let you through to him. 

Standing at his door, you raised your hand to knock but realized he would probably think it Chris or Tony and would lock it instead. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and stepped in, eyes taking in the state of his office. Whatever happened must have been really bad because there were papers everywhere, and a dent in the wall. 

“For the last fucking time, get the fuck out-” Sebastian came out of the bathroom ready to punch someone, not expecting to see you standing in the middle of his office. You saw his fists clench at his sides before he turned away from you. There you were again, seeing him at his worst of moments. 

“Seb,” you slowly moved towards him, not caring about his space as you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your cheek in the middle of his back.

“Y/N, please.” You could tell he was politely asking you to leave but you recalled what Chris said earlier and knew you that the least you could do now was return the favor and distract him long enough for him to calm down. 

“I’m here. I’m here with you Seb, let me help you. Please, let me.” Your hands slowly moved down his chest, resting at his belt buckle and playing with the leather in hopes of distracting him. Sebastian was trying to be a gentleman, but the touch of your skin was driving him crazy and he suddenly snapped, turning around and pushing you against the wall. He wished he could see fear in your eyes, perhaps reluctance in your touches, but he only found acceptance and...no, he couldn’t get carried out.

“I won’t be gentle.” He hoped his warning would snap you out of your haze and send you running but instead, he had to watch as you slowly strip, allowing the clothes to pool at your feet. His eyes roamed your skin and he bit his tongue when he saw the garter belt stretched across your thighs. You must have put it on sometime during the day because you were definitely not wearing that in the morning. 

“I’m not looking for gentle.” You snarked back at him, smiling for a moment before you felt him grab your upper arm and turn you around until your chest was flush against the wall. He pushed your face against the cold wall and dragged his hands down your back, standing right behind you and biting your shoulders until you were pushing your ass against his crotch. 

“Come on Seb, don’t you wanna fuck me? You’ve been so hard all day long baby, I know. I’ve seen you looking at me, undressing me from across the room...eyefucking me every time I walked past you.” You giggled when the hold on your waist tightened

“Don’t push me darling!” He growled in your ears, the faint sound of his zipper going undone letting you know his patience wore out and your teasing was only edging him on. Leaning down, Sebastian grabbed the back of your thigh and lifted it up until your foot rested on the couch. He kept his hand there and bucked his hips against your ass, smiling against your skin when you sighed and threw your head back against his shoulder as soon as you felt his cock slip in between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you reached behind you and grabbed his dick, finding it hot and heavy and pulsating in your hand as you worked him against your skin. “You’re gonna fuck me Seb? Fill me up with your dick until I’m screaming your name?” You moaned against him, your giggles dying down as soon as you grabbed his tie to bring him closer to you. As he breathed against your cheek, you led him closer to you, nudging aside your panties before slowly inching his cock into your wet heat. Sebastian shut his eyes tightly and held his breath, waiting until you fell forward before grabbing your hips and slamming into you. You cried out, pulling on his tie harder as he pulled out and thrust back in. Your lips parted, and Sebastian watched in awe as you took his brutal pace without a single complaint. 

True to his words, he was not gentle, as far from it as he could possibly get. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein with every pass of his cock against your walls. It was addicting, the little groans and sighs he was breathing against your ears. At a particular thrust, you cried out his name and felt your knees give out. Had he not been behind you supporting your weight, you were sure you would have fallen to the floor. You vaguely registered the filthy sound of slapping skin ringing through the room, smiling to yourself when you realized the two men standing outside could probably hear everything happening in this room, from Sebastian’s grunts to your little prayers of his name to the quick and harsh sound of his hips slapping against your ass.

You managed to turn around enough to look at him, finding his hair disheveled and his shirt crinkled from exertion. When his dark blue eyes caught your own, you swore you saw something else shift inside him, as if he was trying to tell you something but couldn’t find it in himself to voice it out loud just yet. 

“So good baby, you f-feel so good...oh god, Seb please…” The wrecked sounds you were breathing against him broke Sebastian out of his angry haze and he found himself unable to deny what he was feeling anymore. 

He had fallen in love with you.

“Cum for me,” he hissed against your lips, swallowing your moans as he reached around and pinched your clit. You dug your nails into his neck, finding the desperate plea incredibly sexy and before you knew it, you were falling over the edge, the scent of him filling your senses until you couldn’t think of anything but Sebastian. 

His fingers rubbed furiously at the hardened nub, and your walls continued to flutter violently around him until you couldn’t take it anymore, shaking in his arms and screaming his name as he forced another orgasm out of you. Watching you come undone in his arms triggered Sebastian’s own pleasure and he leaned over and bit your shoulder harder than he intended, coating your inner walls with hot strings of cum until he could feel some leaking down his cock. He lazily pushed inside you a few more times until he couldn’t feel his knees anymore. 

Reluctantly stepping away, Sebastian wrapped his arms around you to pull you along with him as he fell to the couch, sighing in relief when you nuzzled into his chest and rubbed his chest soothingly. You spent a few moments in silence, basking in each other’s warmth before you felt Sebastian grab your neck and crane it towards him.

“Thank you...you didn’t have to do that but-”

“I wanted to. Believe me, I’ve been wanting to for a couple of days now but you...well, you weren’t really showing any interest so…”

“I can’t get you out of my mind sweetheart. I wanted to as well, probably more than you, but I didn’t want to scare you by how much...fuck, how much I wanted you over and over again. Can’t get enough of you baby.” Sebastian’s admission stirred something in your chest and you raised an eyebrow at him before moving to stand up. He watched as you put your clothes back on, tucking himself away and hoping he didn’t step over any line with what he said. When you came back to him and pulled his tie until he sat up, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before moving to the door.

“In that case, why don’t we finish this back at your place?” Sebastian felt his cock stir at your question, eyes widening in anticipation as he stood up and grabbed his guns, putting them back in his holster before pulling you along with him. You smiled embarrassingly as soon as you walked out of the office, almost laughing when the two awfully large men blushed at Sebastian’s glare. 

Chris was sitting near the entrance when he saw the two of you leaving. One look at Sebastian’s facial expression and your smile and he knew the crisis was averted. For now at least.

Taglists (and some aren’t working):

Pretend You Don’t See Her:

@feelmyroarrrr @yallneedtrek @talk-geek-to-me @lovecatystuff @scuzmunkie  @diablefatale @ayybtch @searchingforbuckyfavs @that-damn-girl @ruthyalva96 @pizzarollpatrol @calwitch @maybeisthemoon @metalarmsandmanbuns @saliarheva @becs-bunker @gogomez-509 @hailmary-yramliah @sycochick @evilxcupcakexnik @redgillan @dragonqueen0606 @sydthekid1518 @bbmommy0902 @honey-bee-holly @godohammers @mazarinqueen @ladifreakingda @duhh-danielly @buckysoldierstories @prettyboyswow @siana2208 @infinity-saga @g4y-lolita @clarissahaan @le-tha @booya--18 @superhero-missouri @i-stan-stuff @stuckyinamoose @this-is-serenaa @sweettangeriness @sergantbuckybarnes @cynic-spirit @bisoubarnes @som-iserem @krazykiara @buckys-estrella @clintbartonswifee @thesoftdumbass @marvelous-capsicle @2s0uls @kcd15 @bitchierrichie @paranjaperiyauniverse @romanosgirl1978 @iwillmakeyoucraveme @luckyfiction17 @bitterstar88 @lostinspace33 @niknoca @tumblstreets @minetticatinwonderland @the-endoftime @coraz0ndcristal @dancingalone21 @sweetlittlegingy @spideyxstan @calwitch @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @positionsfyou @poeta-nascitur @nevenabadr @tanyaherondale @brooke-supernatural16 @wonderkandfandomkingdom @ahsokalives

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[hes-writer]

Favourite (2)

Summary: harry loves one of his children less

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1804 words

A/N: y’all know I’ve been feeling sensitive about posting this piece so if you have any comments BE NICE BE NICE BE NICE 🥺

Part 1

___

The events from the previous weeks rattled the Styles’ household. Caleb woke to a tense morning the next morning where his dad was nowhere to be seen and Beatrice was holed up in her room. Dinner was even more awkward when silence draped over their backs like a cold blanket. Y/N tried her best to continue a dwindling conversation but there was only so much she could say until Beatrice’s silence towards Harry’s questions started to suggest that she didn’t want to speak to her dad. The youngest daughter, Ruby, seemed to be the holy grail of each family dinner when she babbled about her day in pre-school.

Beatrice was set to leave home in exactly two days. Y/N could feel a sense of pride seeing her eldest leave the family home, setting off to university and becoming her own person. Y/N knew that Beatrice had a difficult time separating Beatrice, Harry Styles’ daughter, to just Beatrice. Y/N looked back to when Beatrice was younger--an unexpected surprise that she learned to love when she felt the first symptoms of morning sickness--how she was bound to change her and Harry’s life forever. 

___

Y/N wasn’t sure if her brain blocked out the memories of Harry being hostile to their first child until recently; maybe it was a denial that there was no way Harry could blatantly show anything less than love for their child. But the more Y/N thought about Beatrice’s birthdays, recitals and school events; all she could see notice now was Harry’s distanced posture. His distraction when Beatrice performed on stage, the excuses when she had a dance recital, and unenthusiastic greeting of ‘happy birthday’. 

Harry leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the barren room, observing the bed and bedside table as it was stripped bare of the flower-printed sheets, watching his wife flip through the photo album filled with Beatrice’s accomplishments. The parents could not help but let a wave of nostalgia wash over them. The lamp on the bedside table lit the entire room. The fairy lights that were hung on her wall were taken down a few days ago; one of the items that Beatrice packed last. 

“She asked me to help her put the lights up,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over the cream walls, walking over to where Y/N sat on the mattress. “I told her I was busy and she did it by herself,”

Y/N sighed, lifting her head to direct Harry to the spot beside her, “I know,” She sunk with Harry’s weight at her side, his slouched shoulders further emphasizing his despondent mood. “We raised a good done, hm?”

Harry shook his head in disappointment, “No..not me,” His chest ached with missed opportunities to bond with his daughter; all because he couldn’t get over the fact that she came as a surprise. He was at the peak of his career and he wasn’t too glad that he was forced to push everything back--his album release, promo, and tour--to the next year all because of a child that he didn’t even plan on having in the first place. 

In retrospect, Harry should have known better. He should have reacted like a mature adult, a father-to-be and became an actual dad to Beatrice instead of holding a grudge to an innocent little baby. He still had a successful career that he always dreamed of but he can never turn back time for all the shortcomings he had with his child. 

Harry felt extremely guilty for missing Beatrice’s childhood, so he tried to compensate for the guilt looming over him by presenting his younger children the type of love that he failed to give her. How daft was he to not notice his actions would only push her away from him? That, to Beatrice, it was Harry’s way of highlighting the fact that he would never accept the way she was conceived? 

“What’s this?” Harry mused, tilting his jaw on where her hand rested to keep the page bookmarked. 

“Jus’ some pictures over the years. Wanna see?”

Here Harry was, flicking the glossy pages of an old photo album, looking at a dopey-smiled Beatrice on her first day of kindergarten. Her hair was in pigtails done by Harry that morning because Y/N had an early day at work. She was saddened that she couldn’t go but Harry reassured her that he will be there every step of the way. It was a half-lie. Harry dropped her off, took a quick picture and left the premises as soon as he could, missing the way his daughter’s eyes glazed over. Lips formed a pout and her tiny chin quivered as she watched her dad drive off in his black Range Rover.

The next photo was 7-year old Beatrice in her pink long sleeve and a wispy tutu wrapped around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ballerina bun; this time was done by Y/N if the slickness of her hairstyle was anything to go by. The left page was of Beatrice on the sidelines of the auditorium. The room was partially filled. Harry concluded that it was before the performance because of the dimple printed on her cheek since the right page showcased a sullen girl surrounded by her dance mates and their parents. Harry could remember Y/N’s frantic phone calls that night, asking ‘where are you?’ and ‘what time are you getting here?’ as the faint music blared through the speakers. 

Harry gulped at the memory. He came home to find Beatrice asleep in her costume, a plastic tiara gripped in her hand. Y/N said that she wanted to give it to him. Beatrice could at least give him something from her performance because he didn’t make it.

__

Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket, halting Harry’s thoughts as she answered the call. She pointed towards the door, mouthing silently that she had to answer it. “It’s Beatrice,”

Harry’s brows perched on his forehead, nervousness filled his body at the sound of her name. He didn’t even make things right before she left; too afraid of rejection when he deserved it. 

His fingers flicked through the pages. Beatrice’s piano recital. 

She was fourteen at that time. Caleb was sat on the seat next to him while Ruby was being nursed in Y/N’s arms. Beatrice peeked through the curtains, wanting to make sure that her dad was planted in his seat. She was excited to showcase the skills she learned in the past year. She was hoping to impress Harry in musical terms when she won first place. Beatrice was sure of it! She practiced for long hours until her fingers were stiff from overuse. Her other tries to catch her dad’s attention garnered her little-to-no attention and this was her last idea. 

Y/N gave her daughter a thumbs up as Beatrice walked towards the grand piano center stage. 

Beatrice was in the middle of her piece when she heard her Caleb’s curious voice over the silent crowd, “Dad, where are you going?”

She looked up just in time to catch Harry’s emotionless eyes. His expression was painted in annoyance and his phone was clutched in his hand. Beatrice’s fingers jittered with a shaky breath, feeling her fingertips trace over the wrong keys and eventually stopping altogether. The crowd gasped, murmurs flittering in and out of her ears as she stared at her lap. She tried to compose herself, maybe even pick up where she left off and continue playing as if she didn’t stop. The show must go on, right?

When Beatrice gathered enough courage to continue, she took a deep breath and lifted her head towards where her family sat. She was certain that her dad took his seat again but she could not be more wrong. Beatrice was just barely able to see Harry’s blazer flapping as the door closed shut behind him. 

__

“She ran off stage after that,” Caleb spoke from beside him. “Didn’t want mum around. She kept asking for you but you left or something,”

Harry closed his eyes tightly, tears dripping from the corners as he breathed out a sigh. He did. He left the building as soon as he could. The urgent phone call he received was from Jeff relaying that the media claimed to have found where his kids went to school. He couldn’t jeopardize their safety because of people wanting to meet him; because of him. There was no way he would let anything hurt his children. 

“I know I haven’t been the best dad to your sister,” Harry shut the book softly, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s broad shoulders. “But I really do love her,”

Caleb’s curls tickled his ears as he nodded, “She knows,”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. Before she left, she was talking about everything she was gonna miss. She said she was going to miss you, even if you, and I quote, ‘might not miss her’,” Caleb formed his fingers into bunny ears.

Harry desperately wished that he was brave enough to fix his mistakes. A simple, wholehearted talk with Beatrice might’ve been all he needed to start mending his relationship with her. But he stood back like a coward; hiding from his own daughter because of an irrational fear of rejection. Instead, he walked by her room, door left wide open as Beatrice gathered clothes from her closet to pack in the next box. Each time he would pass by the hallway to his and Y/N’s room, more of her items would be packed up, taped and ready to go. Packed boxes slowly filled the hallway and her closet emptied as her clothing was folded in an organized manner.

First, it was her desk. Her pens and notebooks leaving the cluttered space empty. Then, it was her hangers stripped off her dresses, jackets and coats. Her shoes were the next to go, leaving more space in the downstairs closet by the door until only one pair remained unpacked; the one she used to walk out of their house. Next, it was her dresser packed with moisturizers and makeup closed tightly to prevent spillage. Beatrice peeled off her duvet and bedsheets to wash the night before she left, opting to sleep next to Ruby on her final night at home. 

One image that he kept reeling in his head like a film projector was Beatrice climbing the metal steps of the ladder from the garage. She placed it sturdy on the floor before she stretched her hands to unhook the fairy lights from the wall. Unlike before where Beatrice knocked on his office door, hesitantly asking for help to put up the fairy lights--she didn’t ask for Harry’s help taking it down. 

___

A/N: I know that a lot of people might've wanted a full circle ending where Harry apologizes but I'm pretty happy with this ending because it's open-ended. 

___

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[darthkruge]

hey could you do a jess mariano x reader where the reader has dyslexia but loves to read. someone at school makes a comment about her being dumb and she gets insecure but jess is super reassuring to the reader about how intelligent she is. also they can either be already dating or have mutual crushes. whatever you think fits better. <3

Jess Mariano x Dyslexic!Reader ~ All of You

Summary: Someone at school insults the dyslexic reader and their boyfriend, Jess, provides reassurance. 

Warnings: Bullying, language, insecurities, I think that’s it? 

Words: 2.1k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so, so sorry this took me so long to get to! I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t mean to keep you in the ask box void. I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting! I decided to make them already be dating because that’s where my brain went hehe. I hope you like it :)

You walked to school hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, as always. Even though it took him about 15-20 minutes out of the way, Jess never missed walking with you. He hated the thought of you starting your day by yourself and never wanted you to feel forgotten about or lonely. Thus, the tradition began and it has stayed the way you start your day, everyday, for the last few months that you’ve been dating. 

Jess pulled you behind the science building, pressing his lips to yours. Your hands instinctively wove into his hair and his arms wound around your waist, pulling your bodies together. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away from your lips and gently moving his kisses down the side of your neck. You hummed in content before moving to meet his face again, once again pressing your lips to his. 

These stolen moments were what you lived for. You’d never felt too confident in yourself, at least as far as relationships went, and you weren’t used to this kind of affection. Even so, you loved every moment of it. Everything with Jess felt so natural. No matter what, you came first to him and he never failed to show it. 

You both pulled away and he softly kissed your forehead.

“See you after second period?”

“Of course” 

“Okay, love. Text me if you need me. Or if you’re bored. Or if you miss me”

“Oh, yes! That Jess Mariano charm. I’m not sure how I’ll endure two classes without it!”

“I’m sure it’ll prove quite e difficult,” Jess said, laughing. The bell rang and he gave you one last smile before you parted. 

You walked into your English class with a smile on your face, giddy after the experience with him. He made you feel alive. It was the kind of feeling you didn’t know you needed, but once you felt it you couldn’t imagine losing it. 

You sat down in your seat, waiting for the teacher to start class. 

“Okay, everyone. Today we’re just going to be doing some silent reading for the first half of class and then I’ll put you in small groups to work on a new project”

Fuck. Group projects were the fucking worst. Unless you got one of your friends, people were normally assholes and impossible to work with. 

Even though you were upset with the new development, you were excited to have time to read. You pulled out your copy of The Great Gatsby that Jess had lent you and picked up where you last left off. Because you read so much and generally did well or at least half-decent in school, people never assumed you had dyslexia. Lots of people had this false narrative that if you have dyslexia, you must hate reading. It was something you were used to, the stupid comments and assumptions. You tried to not let it get to you but you sometimes felt frustrated. You’d run into loads of ignorant people in your life and while you weren’t ashamed to have dyslexia, you hated having to explain it to every new teacher, every new friend in your life. You never knew how’d they’d react.

Even so, reading was one of your greatest joys in life. Losing yourself in the work, in the story, it was enthralling. You loved to find characters that you connected with. Their emotions were palpable and made you feel validated and less alone. Reading was one of the main things that brought you and Jess together. He knew you had dyslexia and, thankfully, never treated you like you were any less. You were afraid he would break up with you once you told him, but, of course, he didn’t. You were still you, and that’s all he cared about. 

He loved trading books with you and hearing your thoughts on them. In doing so, he felt the two of you were brought closer together. Discussing literature was an almost intimate experience in your relationship. Learning which characters and themes resonated with a person was truly illuminating about their personality and mind. Right now, as you read Gatsby, Jess was reading Pride and Prejudice. You loved Jane Austen, as did Jess, and you completely enjoyed discussing her work. 

After a few moments lost in thought, your teacher’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Alright! Okay so for the group project you will be analyzing the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. Please read it together today and discuss what you think the most pertinent theme is. I’ve already assigned the groups and I’ll display them on the board right now.”

Your teacher stepped back and turned on the projector so you could see the groups. Scanning for your name, you internally groaned when you saw who you were with. Sarah, Justin, and Alex. They were all close and their friend group didn’t exactly have the best reputation. You grabbed your bag, walked over to them, and sat down.

“So, y’all just wanna read it? Then just talk about it, I guess. We’re looking for themes, right?” Sarah asked.

Everyone nodded, opening up the copies of the short story placed on your desks. You jumped in and immediately felt yourself pulled into the writing. After a few minutes, your eyes glued to the story, you heard the rest of your group closing their packets. 

“Alright, everyone done?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, you?” Alex said

Sarah nodded in agreement.

You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks flush. You were only about 70% through the story. “Sorry, I just need a bit more time, is that okay?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Just hurry up,” Sarah groaned. 

Your face burning, you went back to the reading. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying, you were! They just wouldn’t understand it. You couldn’t count the amount of times people had told you to just “focus more”. It made your blood boil, honestly. It was so dismissive and you couldn't believe people still thought that way. You always focused and it wasn’t your fault, and, yet, morons like these three persisted. After a few more minutes, you heard Alex again.

“Come on! You can’t possibly still be reading?”

“I’m sorry, just-” You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “Please, just a few more minutes?”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid. No wonder no one wants to work with you. All you do is hold people up, you’re a goddamn idiot” Alex said.

Your eyes burned and unshed tears started to push their way up but you fought them down. You wouldn’t let yourself cry in front of them. They didn’t deserve to see how they’d affected you. 

Finally, the bell went off and you were able to leave. Your group glared at you and you realized you  hadn’t discussed the themes. 

“It’s, um, the story’s about the juxtaposition of peace and violence. Even though the people are in a calm, controlled setting, they resort to violence every year. It’s an outdated tradition they keep up and, thus, it highlights the difference between their actions and how they want to be perceived.” You said quickly, voice wavering. 

Your group scoffed before walking off. That didn’t bother you too much. You knew your analysis was accurate and probably far better than anything they could have come up with, even if they’d spent the last 15 minutes of class discussing it. Despite this, you still felt deflated. The shit they’d said, the way they’d treated you? You couldn’t deny it, it got to you. 

You walked over to your locker and put your stuff away. After that, you decided you were just going to go home. You could call the school later and say you were feeling sick or something. Honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were just so drained, you needed to get away from this place and the people in it.

However, you didn’t want Jess to worry. You sent him a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and put on your headphones before walking out of the school.

What you didn’t expect was Jess to come flying out of nowhere, appearing by your side as if you’d summoned him.

“Jess! What are you doing? Don’t you have class!”

He shrugged. “You weren’t feeling well. Did you honestly expect I’d leave you by yourself? And, seriously, Y/N, you know I hate this place. You’re the only thing that makes it bearable so if you  wouldn’t be here, why should I?”

You nodded and kept walking forward. Jess looked at you quizzically, trying to decode your dejected state. He kept quiet, knowing not to push you to talk. He trusted you’d come to him when you were ready. Therefore, he simply followed you until you made it off campus, where you turned into a random alley and suddenly stopped walking.

Jess caught himself, almost running right into you. You suddenly turned around, dropped your bag, and bolted right into his chest. He was caught off guard but instinctively brought his arms around you, trying to comfort you. He noticed you were crying, your broken sobs getting muffled in his shirt. He soothingly rubbed his arms up and down your back, desperately trying to give you solace. After you finally quieted down, Jess gently and slowly pulled you back.

His hands gripped your shoulders as he studied your face, your sad gaze meeting his. “What happened?”

“Stupid English, that’s all”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t shut me out. What happened?” He said, his tone kind.

“I-” You trailed off, trying to keep your composure. “Some kids just said some shit. I was just reading slower than them and they said some shit. It’s not a big deal, I just- it got to me, okay?”

“Who?” Jess said, firmly this time.

“Jess-”

“Who, Y/N?”

“Alex, Justin, and Sarah.” 

Jess groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Fuck them, Y/N. They’re fucking ridiculous and they don’t know anything about you”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m so goddamn frustrated! Because, like, it did get to me. Jess- Jess, they’re right. I felt like an idiot today, I felt stupid. And I hate feeling that way!” Hot tears smarmed in your eyes, the frustration and anger bringing them out. 

Jess’s gaze softened. As livid as he felt toward the three of them, he knew that’s not what you needed right now. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Love, take a breath. I’ve got you, okay?” 

You nodded, your breathing shaky from the stress of the day. 

“I’m sorry that happened today. Listen to me, Y/N. You’re so smart. You’re smarter than I am, hell, you’re smarter than anyone at that school! They’ve got nothing on you!”

You looked at him and smiled at his words but shook your head. “You don’t need to do that, Jess”

“Yes, I do. We promised we’d be honest in our relationship, right? Well, that’s all I’m doing. Seriously, Y/N, who else at that school could debate the themes in literature with me like you? Who could discuss the importance of accurate representation in books with me? Who could talk to me about just how influential YA books are and why they should be taken seriously-?”

“They are and they should!” You cut in.

Jess laughs, nodding in agreement. “Exactly!! You’re amazing, Y/N. And I swear those fuckheads are gonna get what’s coming to them”

“Jess-” You warn.

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “They just- they messed with you and made you upset and I fucking hate that”

“I hated it too. I hate doubting myself because of my dyslexia. I feel so shit about myself when I get in that headspace and I start spiraling and it gets out of control so fast.” 

“I know. It’s not your fault when those spirals happen. And I know you know this, but I’m just gonna remind you: you’re not any less because you’re dyslexic. It doesn’t make you stupid or anything. It’s a part of you and I love you, all of you”

Your heart swelled at his words. Everyone thought Jess wasn’t good expressing his emotions but you knew the truth. He was quite eloquent when he wanted to be, he just sometimes had trouble with vulnerability. You didn’t blame him for it, with his past it made perfect sense. But when you needed that reassurement, that compassion, you could always count on him for it. 

He moved to place a kiss on your forehead before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay” You smiled up at him and kissed him once more before tucking your head into his shoulder. He pulled you closer and you grabbed his free hand with yours as you continued to walk through the Stars Hollow streets together.

[messrmoonyy]

35 for sylki on that touching list. Please

Ah, another prompt I tell myself I’ll keep short then go off on a tangent for that is you squintttt you’ll see the prompt lmao. Anywho. Enjoy my sweet anon.

I’m gonna start posting these requests to my AO3 too if you prefer to read there!

Prompt from this list

Prompt: kissing their bruises and scars

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Sylvie Laufeydottir

Warnings: mentions of injury, mild language

Check my masterlist for all my other writing, requests are always open for prompts from lists or not!

Finding Sylvie again had been just as difficult as Loki had imagined. She’d spent her entire life hiding from people and only letting them find her when she needed them for something. And amongst the madness of new timelines popping up by the second…. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. But Loki had been determined. In fact it had been his one and only point of negotiation when Stephen Strange had caught up to him, agreeing to work with him and fix the mess… only if they could locate Sylvie first.

He wasn’t sure she’d even want to see him. She’d cast him through a time door after all. But he believed he understood her reasons, her motives. She had spent her entire life looking for the man behind the mask, the person in charge of the TVA, the reason she’d been plucked out of Asgard all those years ago. And she’d finally found him. There was no way she was going to simply walk away from that. So he kept looking for her, determined to find her and hoping his thoughts were correct.

Though she didn’t seem to want to be found. Every trail they found ran cold, but there was always a little something that made Loki know she’d been there. So maybe, just maybe, she was waiting for him after all. Leaving him clues but needing to keep moving. Situations on some timelines were getting rough and he found his fear peak everytime he found a trace of her, wondering if she was hurt. She had survived in apocalypses, he knew she could take care of herself. But this was something else.

Loki felt himself almost waiting for Stephen to tell him they weren’t going to look any longer, that clearly she had fled and wasn’t planning on coming back. But he held up his end of the bargain and Loki helped him regain order on some of the timelines they came across, looking for Sylvie in the process.

Though as time went on and Loki lost track of the amount of timelines they had crossed, he could feel his hope beginning to slip. Only still going forward on pure stubbornness alone. Stubbornness to not want to lose someone he loved again. He’d lost everyone he loved up until this point. Frigga was dead. Thor believed him to be dead. Mobius didn’t even know who he was anymore. He had no friends. No family. Just her. Just Sylvie. His Sylvie. So he would remain stubborn and keep searching for her.

And stubbornness clearly payed out.

“ as far as I can tell there’s no Kang variant here. We should be safe for now. But don’t get too comfortable “ Loki looked around the planet they had arrived on. He got the strangest sense of de Ja vu as he looked at the small village in front of him “ this planet seems peaceful enough but nothings usually peaceful for long anymore “

“ where are we may I ask? “

“ planet called… Lamentis-1. It’s completely wiped from existence in a few hundred years time. That’s probably why Kang had no use for it and left it alone “ Loki wanted to laugh to himself, of all the planets. All the timelines. They had to end up there.

“ she won’t be here “ he was still balancing on the knifes edge of wondering if whether or not she hated him or not. And if she did, she wouldn’t go back to Lamentis. The place their connection was established. The place he felt that shift in his chest by the lake. Had she felt that too? Had her heart dropped deep into the pit of her stomach as she sat there holding his hand, looking at him as if he were put on the earth solely for her? had she felt that too?

Or had he simply over reacted about the entire thing, his purely desperate need for affection simply clawing it’s way out in the fear of his impending demise?

“ well we’re here. So. Let’s look around I’m not wasting my time “ Loki gave a nod and followed him through the village. He remembered passing through there with her, but it had been deserted before. The neon sign he had ‘foolishly’ suggested she tried to charge the tempad with, was glowing brightly by the side of the road. It made his head hurt and he turned away, suddenly feeling too bright for his eyes, instead looking at the people that didn’t know their planet would be nonexistent in a few hundred years. At least those on it now would be long dead by then.

“ why did you think she wouldn’t be here? “ Stephen asked as he dodged a man carrying a large stack of boxes of some exotic looking fruit. Loki hesitated for a moment and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“ I er- we. We have been here before. Myself and Sylvie “ Stephen glanced over at him as if silently probing for more information “ when I first met her… we escaped the TVA and I accidentally brought us here. Right on the day the aforementioned ‘wiping from existence’ happened to be in full swing. We were very nearly wiped out with it “ if he thought hard enough he could remember every moment of that day. Right down to the smell of the ash that filled his nose, the feel of the soft seats on the train, Sylvies fingers on his neck in her attempt to enchant him.

He shook his head slightly to free himself from the thoughts.

“ our… ‘ connection’ was first established here. It created a rapid branch on the timeline. The TVA showed up right before a chunk of rock could take us down “ Stephen hummed slightly in understanding and then came to a stop.

“ then you might have an idea of where she would go if she were here? “ the lake. His head told him immediately though he knew it was stupid. She might still hate him, why would she go back to such a place? But… he guessed it was worth a try.

After telling Stephen his hunch they stepped through one of his portals, much more simple than the previous trek he and Sylvie had made across the planet.

He stepped out of the glowing ring, coming to an immediate halt. Partially because the lake looked a lot more beautiful when it wasn’t being destroyed by parts of a planet. But mainly because there was a woman stood there at the edge of the water. He knew it was her simply by her hair and the same black leather outfit she’d had when he last saw her. Even if it was a little more ragged looking now.

“ Sylvie “ he practically gasped her name, shock and relief washing over him at the thought he’d finally found her. The woman froze stiff for a moment before turning around quickly, arm outstretched with a sword pointed towards him. Her face was bruised, her lip split in one corner, blood dried around her nose and a gash through her eyebrow. She looked a mess quite frankly.

But it was her. It was her. Sylvie. No mistaking. Even under the purple of her bruises. He’d not forget a face like hers, he’d been dreaming of it for.. how long had it even been since he’d last seen her? He wasn’t sure.

“ Sylvie “ he tried again, more confident and strong than before “ I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay “ her eyes were wild, filled with confusion and fear and she didn’t drop her sword “ Sylvie “

“ How do you know my name? “ her voice was the same, If a little hoarse. Exhausted. How long had it been since she’d slept properly? Drank? Ate? He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her back to the sanctum sanctorum, protect her from what ever had caused her harm.

“ you told me it yourself. Right here on this planet, granted it was a few hundred years ahead of now. It’s me, truly “ he racked his brains for a few moments to think of some way to prove it to her then remembered what was in his pocket. He carried it around with him everywhere just in case he finally found her. His TVA tie. She’d only ever known him in his increasingly grubby TVA uniform. So he assumed it was a good place to jog her memory of him.

He raised his hands in a surrender, the tie in his hand, before taking a few more steps closer.

“ close enough “ she grumbled when he was close enough to be only a few centimetres from the end of her outstretched sword.

“ alright. I understand “ he lowered his hand slowly and draped the tie over her sword. She took a sharp in take of breath at the sight of it, holding it in her hand and looking as if she might cry “ I’ve been looking for you. For a long. Long time “

“ why “

“ because I- “ he cut himself off with a short sigh, deciding now was not the time for him to be making deep proclamations of his love for her. Not when she had a sword pointed at him “ I wanted to make sure you were okay “ he opted for instead.

“ I sent you away “ she said, her eyes darting up to meet his. Clearly she didn’t believe him.

“ to the TVA. A place you believed me to me safe, back to my friend “ he wasn’t sure if he was totally believing that himself as he said it, more so using it as a way to see if that was truly what she’d done. Or if she had just pushed him across space and time to get him out of her way. Kissed him as a mere distraction.

“ but you’re not safe. You’re here “ he nodded again and chanced another tentative step towards her.

“ things are a little… complicated. But we have a safe place. So just come with me, you’ll be safe now Sylvie. Stephen- “ he nodded backwards to where he was still stood observing the two of them “ - is helping us fix our mess “

“ our? “ she croaked, her eyes welling up. It was breaking his heart to look at her in such a distraught manner.

“ yes. Our “ she dropped her sword then and fell into his arms, clutching at him as if he were a lifeline. And he guessed, from the looks of her, he probably was. He held her back just as tightly, trying his best to voice to her that she was safe now. She was home now.

“ we should get back “ Stephens voice attempted to break their moment but Loki refused to let her out of his grasp. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and then shuffled around her slightly so that his arm was tightly around her back, never letting any points of contact drop. To his mild surprise she let him help her walk through the portal, leaning into him slightly and trying and failing to hide a limp in her leg. He’d almost expected her to bark her orders that she could very much walk on her own. But she didn’t.

If fact she was quite quiet after that. Not speaking a word as Loki explained where they were now and that it was safe, talking to her like one would talk to a scared child. He felt as if that was what she’d needed. He didn’t expect she’d had much comfort in her life and he was more than happy to offer it to her now. She didn’t protest when he suggested they get her cleaned up, or when they did just that and she fumbled with the buckles of her leathers and he silently went over to help her. She looked even smaller and afraid without her armour, just the torn undershirt and her trousers.

She was still uncharacteristically quiet as he went to work cleaning her wounds. Sitting her down on the edge of his bed and wiping away the dust and debris of wherever it was she had been. She was Asgardian after all and had her own magic flowing through her veins, so most of her smaller wounds had already began to heal themselves. Though he found a few that were a little worse and silently patched her up.

“ I’m sorry “ she said as Loki finished up, so quietly he wasn’t even sure he’d heard her correctly at first “ I’m so. So sorry Loki “ he looked up at her to see her eyes already on him, tears spilling down her cheeks. Loki reached out for her, his hand cusping her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears.

“ what happened to you “ was all he said, still shocked by how much weaker she seemed. So vulnerable. So afraid “ Darling, tell me “ the name fell past his lips before he could stop it, but she simply leaned into his touch more at the name. She was simply as starved for affection as himself.

“ a lot “ she said with a sniffle, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky sigh “ a whole lot of shit” Loki waited for her to continue, getting her to open up wasn’t a particularly easy thing he’d learnt. So he wasn’t about to try and push and break what he’d seemed to be building on now with her “ after I killed him. I thought. I thought I’d feel brilliant. I’d have some magical awakening and feel like I’d finally accomplished what I had to. Some relief. And I did. For the briefest second then I just…. Nothing. Just pure regret and remorse, hit me so hard I felt sick with it “

Her hand came up over his in her cheek, pulling it down into her lap and holding it tightly. He’d noticed she had thing for holding his hand. He wasn’t exactly against it himself, he wanted to contact as much as she did. Needed the contact as much as she did. If he focussed enough he could sense the magic thrumming below her fingertips, he’d always been able to sense magic. But it felt stronger with her.

“ I ran then “ she continued after a few more moments of silence “ only thing I’m good at. I wanted to look for you. Kinda missed having you being a total arse by my side “ he smiled at that, knowing she had missed him too. It hadn’t just been him pining for her after all “ but the timelines…. It’s mental out there now. People trying to take over and growing more powerful everyday…. Plenty of you out there you know. Right evil bastards some of them “

“ they did this to you? “ he questioned. She shrugged. That was a yes then.

“ some of them. Not all as smart as you’d think. Ran rings round them “ she looked up at him then instead of their intertwined hands “ I didn’t think you’d want to find me again… or if you did you’d just want to kill me. Get me back for what I did “

“ I could never. You had your reasons. I understand “ she seemed to hesitate for a moment before her free hand reached up, her fingers gently grazing over his cheek and his jaw.

“ I missed you, you know “ she said softly “ you absolute arse “ he chuckled slightly and his smile grew when one tugged at her own lips.

He couldnt help but think how beautiful she looked, even with the bruises and scrapes littering her skin.

“ you’re staring “ she commented quietly, her fingers creeping closer towards the nape of his neck and toying with the curls of his hair.

“ I am “

“ narcissist “ she teased, clearly returning back to herself again. He preferred it.

“ maybe “ just looking at her was making his chest tighten. He wondered if his past self would have been quite annoyed at him turning to mush about a woman, found the whole thing funny. But he found that he didn’t even care now. Because hisself that lived on the sacred timeline had a different purpose. A different glorious purpose. But his? It was her

“ what are you thinking about? “ she asked quietly and he struggled to find the words to tell her. He’d never been the best at voicing his emotions. Especially something like this.

“ I- Sylvie- “ he cut himself off with a frustrated sigh and she raised an eyebrow at him before pressing gently to the back of his neck, the faint prickle of magic on his skin. He looked at her and understand what she was asking. And for the first time he didn’t block her as she dipped into his mind, let down the walls he used to keep her out and let her swim around through his thoughts. She closed her eyes, focussing on the clearly difficult task of scrambling around inside of his mind. He tried to keep his mind as clear as possible, the one and only simple thought of I love you floating around on the top. And a minute or so later her eyes snapped open again.

She looked at him as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. There was a moment of silence between them before her fingers at the back of his neck applied pressure again, this time tugging him into her just as suddenly as she had done the first time. All that time ago back in the Citadel.

He’d wanted to be the one to kiss her the second time though he wasn’t complaining. But when she began to pull away he pulled her right back in again, revelling in the way she almost melted against him. She was still tugging at his hair in a way that was almost painful, but it was all very… Sylvie. So he didn’t even mind. His hands were cautious on her, in the way they always had been. Always careful not to touch her unless she wanted him to.

He pulled back from her lips slowly, trying to savour every last millisecond. Then found his lips moving to brush over the purple bruises that were littered across her face, the cut that sliced her brow, following the landscape of injury over her pale features and down her neck. He finished with a lingering kiss to a fresh scar on her shoulder, having touched every mark of hurt and hatred he could see with love. Every angry moment replaced with a tender one, shifting slightly then so his forehead rest against her shoulder.

She turned her head to the side, nuzzling her nose into his hair, her hand sliding up to cusp the back of his neck again and hold him in place. Neither of them spoke for a few moments longer, not really needing to. Just holding each other, being thankful to finally be back by the others side.

He lifted his head after a few minutes pressing his forehead to hers instead, his thumb brushing across her tear stained cheek.

“ I promise you, with all my heart, that I won’t let anyone hurt you again “

[dourpeep]

Spilled Red Ink

The first chapter of a series exploring Scaramouche's character. So little is known about the mysterious vagrant hailing from Inazuma, until you get unwittingly roped into his life.

If only you could turn back the clock and take back what sprouted from desperation.

Summary: You’d compare him to the devil, but that’d be giving him too much credit.

Contains: Scaramouche x named!reader (one name mention) afab!reader, manipulation

“Well?”

Back pressed to the cold alley wall, you were trapped. If luck were the sparkling oceans of Liyue Harbor, yours would be most like the dry expanse of Sumeru’s deserts. So close to the towering, lush, green forests, yet dangled out of reach mockingly. You wish he hadn’t found you once again in some sick twist of fate.

Barely a hair’s length away stood the self-proclaimed vagrant, eyes gleaming unnaturally in the dim light. A hand settles just to your right, caging you in further, pressing hard against the wood of the shop’s side.

An uncomfortable silence sits. If only he could be willed away so easily as it in the next moments.

“I’m waiting.”

And my patience is running out, or at least you figure that’s what he is implying.

He moves in closer, tilting his head just enough to level his lips with your ear. You know him enough to know they’re curved up in a smirk. With a warm puff of breath, he speaks again.

“Or are you going to be difficult again, Mei?”

You quickly mistake the breathlessness you feel as something else.

“What do you want now, Scaramouche? This wasn’t part of the agreement—”

Foolish, you thought. Foolish, stupid, dumb—it’s painfully obvious that a bow user can only do so much against a geo-infused Lawachurl. Taking a big risk like that, accepting the bounty without a second thought? Ironically, you’re lucky you’re standing where you are now instead of dead somewhere in the middle of the plains.

So much for being smart about getting resources.

“You said you’d help me if I did you a favor. You helped me with the Lawachrul, I helped you with your favor—it’s done.”

He laughs, cruelly, because things are never that simple.

“You thought that was the favor? Getting rid of a few pesky treasure hoarders?” He pulls away to see the full view of your expression, finding satisfaction in the hint of fear in your eyes. The purple of his gaze clashes with the orange sky.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Surely, you were face-to face with the devil himself. No. No, at the very least, the devil commits to kept contracts.

Scaramouche?

Compared to the devil, he was conniving, two-faced. A pied piper who paraded around with the façade of an unassuming man—only to show his true colors when he saw fit.

Apparently, he saw fit almost immediately.

Fingertips drag along the curve of your jaw, his eyes staring with an almost bored expression. As you attempt to pull away, he snatches your chin back and forces you to look him in the eye. You advert them, refusing the satisfaction of compliance.

“I could have done that in my sleep. No…what I need is for you to help me.”

Scaramouche runs his thumb over your cheek despite your attempts to pull away. The silence following rings in your ears. Just as you open your mouth, he speaks up again.

“Play a part if that makes sense to your dull brain. I’m sure even you can manage.”

The question of ‘why’ briefly flashes through your mind.

“Let’s just say that I need some help with convincing.”

Just like that your brows raise.

Convincing? The fact that the more he speaks, the more questions pop up gives you a headache. Makes you question why you got yourself into this in the first place. At the same time, however, his refusal to elaborate worries you.

For a moment, you pray to the archons they deliver a swift, merciful death.

He pushes you back against the wall, knocking breath from your lungs, and makes a show of wiping his hands against each other as if to rid himself of your germs. Straightening his clothing, he doesn’t bother to look back at you.

“We’re leaving now. Don’t waste my time.”

Needless to say, the archons must not be feeling very magnanimous today.

“Hello again!” Scaramouche’s voice takes on a cheerful lit as you approach the docks, the man waving to a merchant set up nearby. “I wanted to inquire about the shipment you mentioned last time—you said it should be ready by now?”

“Yes of course sir.”

The older man shuffles around the display, and in no hurry, he fetches a wooden box. It’s small, unassuming. He steps back around to the front, setting it down on the table so that the two of you can get a better look.

It’s definitely a surprise when the Harbinger picks it up and turns to you, smiling. He has the audacity to look bashful, even.

“It’s called the Stone of the Heavens.”

Within is a delicate jade piece laid in what you assume to be gold. A deep green, so clear you it easily could be mistaken for a still drop of water. Yet, despite the small size, the design of the surrounding gold is so intricate, so dainty that you wonder if it were the Archons themselves who crafted such a piece. Tempted to trace along the carefully cut metal, you nearly forget about the situation at hand.

“Lovely, no?” You force yourself to nod and smile back.

The man running the stall looks so pleased that it hurts you to know that your companion’s true nature is the furthest from his current demeanor. But you can’t risk his life in hopes of telling him the truth.

“It’s nice to see young people take interest in such old traditions, he must’ve taken quite a bit of time to learn our customs. What a lucky lady you are.”

The box closes, hiding the precious brooch.

Scaramouche returns the box to the man, the smile on his face dropping just enough to seem wistful. His eyes cast down as fingers leave the carefully polished wood.

“I don’t have the payment with me at the moment, but I can return tomorrow with a small part of it, if that is acceptable? I swear that I will find the means to pay—”

The man shakes his head, gently pushing the box back into the hands of the other.

The box sitting carefully in both of Scaramouche’s hands makes your stomach turn.

“No, no. It will bring me great pleasure to offer this as a gift. To see this at my age is more payment I could ever receive.”

You want to say no, to tell the man of the truth, but instead push your hair behind your ear, reminded of the possible and very permanent consequences. So you smiled instead. A little lie, the anxiety you felt very easily mistaken for shyness.

Watching as Scaramouche offers a deep bow, you wait.

“Many thanks for your generosity, it will not be forgotten.”

It isn’t until a few minutes later that you both leave the man, the brooch now carefully kept by Scaramouche. The pleasant smile on your face drops as soon as your back is turned to the kind old man and, within a few steps out of his sight, you stop walking.

“You lied to that man.“

“And you’re surprised?”

His blunt statement only fuels the frustration that’s festered.

“Why do you even need that? Why did I need to be there?”

A sigh leaves him, and he gestures nonchalantly.

“If you weren’t there, he wouldn’t have just given it to me. Something like this costs a small fortune and, unlike some people, I’d rather not waste funds on meaningless things. As for what it’s for, that’s none of your business.”

When you refuse to continue speaking, Scaramouche turns back around and leaves, hand waving in a noncommittal goodbye.

“This isn’t the whole favor, by the way. I’ll be in contact soon.”

You should’ve refused his help.

[elriel-oblivion]

So I started this in the last week of 2020, and I'm ready to post it 😊 I've still got a couple other wips I'd started before this one but I haven't been bothered to finish those lol so I'm putting this one out first. Anyway, this'll be 6 parts long; I'll prob put up the next part in three or four days.

I'll put word counts so you can gauge how long each part is and if you wanna read it 😅 Also lemme know if you'd like to be tagged

Word count: 2.2K

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part I

__

The shadows were colder than usual tonight. On better days, their chill wrapped Azriel's bones in an icy embrace, a comforting freeze numbing any semblance of feeling in his wasted heart.

But this miserable night, they were searing cold, the kind of cold piercing the highest of mountain peaks; the kind of cold that penetrated the brain itself. He shivered as he travelled through those shadows, dark mists and wisps coiling like vines about his head.

Maybe he was deliberately searching for the coldest areas. Maybe he wanted a complete absence of feeling: physical, emotional, spiritual. It would certainly be easier to feel nothing than trying to quell the frigid rage inside. How could an avalanche be stopped once it started?

Further and further he moved through his shadows, dawn chasing him from a few hours away. Mountains and villages surged past through those charcoal mists, making way to depthless forests and ravines. He clenched his jaw tight against the cold, memory guiding him home.

But the fresh blood he'd seen earlier, and the mutilated remains of that little girl, one wing torn off and lying bent at the edge of the dirt path ... Her unseeing eyes were glazed, that shine as bright and true on his mind as the glint of moonlight on the blade of Death. And her scream. Cauldron, it curdled his own blood.

He'd been but a minute late. A matter of seconds were all that stood between him and the sadistic bastard who'd brutalised that child. Barely a heartbeat in his lifetime.

He blinked once to rid himself of her stare. Twice.

The image remained, muddying with his path home. His hands clenched and unclenched, nails biting into his skin, but the girl's hazel eyes and her ashen skin and the fingers outstretched for that severed wing remained an imprint on his vision.

Why was this affecting him so much? It wasn't the first time he'd seen horrors like this. But if Azriel wanted to be honest with himself, some days were harder than others simply because they were. Some days, the despair rattled his core and tossed him far out - because he was a person and emotions, feelings, these things were too abstract to be boxed in.

Everything had a limit. Had Azriel ever truly reached his?

Sometimes Azriel himself didn't understand how he kept it all in. How he didn't react or display any sign of having seen or heard the things he did. Sometimes he was repulsed by himself because of it. At least Cassian and his rare vomiting showed some of the humanity inside.

Azriel gave away nothing. Was there even humanity in himself? Everyone but his family looked at him like he was an unhinged monster imprisoned by his Illyrian skin. Like he was moments from escape and they would be his first victims.

Or - not just his family. Her. Elain. Did he consider he family? Perhaps it was too early, or even too inappropriate to do so.

Either way, how could he stain the sudden image of her with himself, with the horrors he'd just seen, had always had the displeasure of seeing? She was lovely and warm and beautiful and he was dark and cold and hideous.

Elain. Something inexplicable stirred in him at the thought of her.

He tried to calm it, this heat, this single star in his midnight sky. But it remained. And it grew.

And he was disgusted. Ashamed. He was not worthy of her.

And it ached. Another unrequited love.

That word snapped something in him. Mocked him.

Love.

A choking sound ripped from his throat and he welcomed it, let it mount into a scream, let it tear through his body and soul. Like that monster was finally breaking free. It was invigorating yet scorching. It burned him from the inside out but the cold of those shadows permeated his mind so heavily, he forgot the essence of corporeality and only his soul seemed to drift.

His ragged breathing sounded, throat parched. Where was he? Through the shadows, all around him, there seemed only darkness. Was he flying? No, the shadows sang their usual baritone thrum as opposed to the high harmony of the wind.

Above, no stars glistened. His eyes strained but nothing peeked through. It wasn't often that his shadows became this thick; usually thin and wispy, they now shrouded his being, coalescing over, in him. He became the cold, a shadow, darkness itself, floating through the ether, higher and higher like ashes on the wind.

But even ashes settled down at some point.

Unless his soul truly were ascending, unless this truly were death. It almost seemed too easy. All the battles, those two great wars, the poison that shot through his veins and stole his breath as per Hybern's whim. Poison that sometimes woke him up in cold sweats, a phantom memory of its iciness picking through his body as though he were being cut up by the sharpest blade ...

Sometimes it even felt like his own blade.

No, this couldn't be death. A mere scream, the image of lives lost, a bloody fight - he hated to admit that these were commonplace among his memories, his life. But in doing so, he knew death was too easy an aftermath for what had happened tonight.

Death, an ascent. But he was sure when his time came, his stained soul would descend like the demon he was.

So he grounded, drifting down weightlessly until the solidity of rock steadied him. He would not go to that darkest of places yet. But he was still exhausted. So damn tired of everything. He feared that if he dropped into a slumber right now, he'd not get up for a lifetime. As it was, his legs almost gave out, but he forced some remaining strength back into them. All he had to do was get home now.

He stepped out of his shadows; Devlon's camp was quiet around him. A fire to his far right sputtered in the harsh winds and Azriel swept himself back into his shadows.

This time he travelled faster, composing himself, locking his muscles and bones up, clenching his jaw. He let that familiar cool comfort drain his rage, cleaning it through his veins before it settled in the frozen lake of his heart where the rest of his darkness lay, inescapable through the impenetrable foot of icy wrath and sorrow. He savoured his shadows, a confidant in their own right, thanked them for their understanding and the escape he found within them.

But they were growing warmer now. Azriel squinted through them as they shifted him across land and water - the scape of Velaris and its brilliant lights greeted him. Closer to home now, he could breathe with a looser chest but this was still unusual; his shadows shouldn't be warmer, they should be cool and refreshing, like the autumn night breeze beyond.

His wings rustled, body reacting to his shadows' autonomy before his thawing mind caught up. 'Where are you taking me?' he murmured.

Mist swirled about him and the shadows deposited him at the far edge of the dimly lit back garden at his High Lord and Lady's riverfront estate. Why would they bring him here? Rhysand and Feyre were at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were together in Illyria and Mor was at the Winter Court. As far as he knew, Amren was at her own apartment so the only person left was -

'Azriel!' came Elain's voice. It was distant in a way it shouldn't be.

Azriel leaned against a tree, pretending to fiddle with the Siphon atop his left hand. Breathing was difficult but he swallowed and exhaled in a shudder.

He needed to fully compose himself before anyone saw him like this. If only his damn shadows hadn't taken control for those last few moments, he'd be in his own home and lying in that swirling darkness in peace. Though, he supposed, it was his own fatigue that had yielded that control.

'Azriel!' Elain cried, stopping in front of him. Her face was caught between a frown and a wince and her arm was raised slightly. 'You don't look okay.'

As always, he was momentarily stunned by how unafraid this small female was of him. Here he was in his full armour, every bit the monstrous warrior that sent his people scurrying into their homes and locking their doors, and yet Elain stood strong before him. Like she saw not a killing machine but a person.

She never even commented on how his shadows made to disappear around her. Perhaps she hadn't noticed.

He swallowed before he let out what he thought was a light laugh. 'I'm fine, don't worry.' But he could hear the hoarseness of his voice, now facing the consequences of that scathing scream. And his limbs felt even heavier than before, like someone had injected liquid lead into them.

'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she whispered, lowering both her gaze and arm.

He paused, trying to catch her gaze. The constant light in her eyes whenever she looked at him was a balm to his soul. He could use some of that right now.

He reached out an arm, so impossibly leaden right now - if he could just get to sit down -

'Can I wash your hair, please?'

He started. 'You want to wash my hair?'

Elain's eyes flicked back up to skirt over his, up to his hair, where they stayed pinned. 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'

Shit. He hadn't even thought of his appearance after that bloody fight earlier. How that had slipped his mind? He ran a hand through his hair, and surely enough, crumbs of dirt rained down.

Although, he really hadn't expected to turn up here of all places. In the privacy of his own home, he wouldn't have cared if he were missing a whole damn limb, if only it meant he could sleep like the dead.

Not to mention that sleeping with a little mud was the least an Illyrian warrior's problems. But Elain's care was something of a punch to his gut. When was the last time someone had truly tended to him for reasons that weren't battle or holiday related?

'You've managed to get some on your face, too,' she said, brow furrowed as she stared at his cheek.

Her eyes were so deep and focused, he wished they would just meet his once. But of course, that level of scrutiny he'd come to learn from Elain meant shyness. Just shyness. She was so endearing, he could've laughed with such fondness if he weren't so damn tired. He wished this whole damn night would be over already.

His leg faltered slightly and he stumbled forward.

'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'

He raised his brows at her, but she simply took his arm and began leading him towards the house. She looked so small before him but didn't slow despite dragging his bulk behind her.

Halfway across the garden, he pulled her to him with his free arm, his shadows saving the both of them the energy of walking through that mansion of a home.

'My bathroom,' she murmured. Elain didn't balk through the five seconds of that darkness, didn't even look surprised. She showed no sign of hearing the spike in his pulse either. Thank the Mother.

He set them in her bathroom, and she didn't look at him once as she flitted around the chamber, pulling a chair from her bedroom to the sink and grabbing a towel, soap and a jug from the cupboard. Standing there, his breathing began to smooth out.

The window was open, a chill breeze sweeping in. The faelights were dim and their placid light sent a dusky illumination over Elain's features. Some bottles of oils and herbs sat on the edge of the bathtub. Azriel had heard of people using oils for bathing, but herbs? Perhaps they were like flower petals, used for their scent.

Towel in hand, Elain waited at the sink, placing the soap and jug down. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this.'

Azriel nodded, tapping his Siphon. Within seconds, that second skin of cold scales and gleaming wrath was safely stored away. Just his plain black trousers and tunic were left.

Elain's eyes caught every moment of the transformation. 'It's beautiful, all of it.'

He didn't even know if she was speaking of his armour or the basic clothes underneath or what, but his face warmed slightly, wings rustling.

'Please sit,' she said, gesturing to the chair. As he did, she wrapped the towel around his shoulders, fingers hovering above his forehead for a few seconds.

Those seconds felt perennial. He almost shuddered as her fingers made contact with his skin. Her hands were so gentle as they pushed his head back, and he shifted in the seat. He lowered his wings, and she stepped into the space he provided. She was still as he got comfortable, only turning the tap once he was settled. There was a slight crease between her brows, and he clenched his fists to keep from smoothing it out.

Sounding so much like his own mother that his throat tightened, she whispered, 'You can close your eyes.'

So he did.

__

Feedback is welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

[nyrandrea]

Setting the Stage - Part 2

Here’s the next part, as promised! Last chapter was setting things up, now we get to the good stuff.

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Link to Part 1 here!

Also available to read on A03 here!

Enjoy!

“How much farther now?”

Gregory flinched when those red eyes bore down on him as if to dare him to ask that question one more time.

“Not much!” Came the cheery reply, despite her glare.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Vanny continued to lead Gregory down an ill-lit tunnel, save for the tinny footsteps that echoed as they walked along the metal walkway.

She had said that the staff used this underpass as a quicker way of getting around the mall and that they would be at the Fazer Tag arena in no time, but they had been walking for what seemed like hours now.

A faint but vile odour of damp and rot clogged Gregory’s nose as he scrunched it up in disgust; the air was thick and soupy with wet must that seemed to stick to his lungs with every breath.

He stole a quick glance up at Vanny before immediately looking back down again in fear that she might catch his eye. She had been so excitable and nice to him before, but there was a different air about her now. More... reserved.

Turning back had crossed his mind once or twice, but given how tight her grip was, it didn’t seem like an option anymore.

He was really starting to regret this.

“Here we are!”

Gregory snapped out of his thoughts as they came up to what looked like a large elevator shaft with rusted doors that slowly creaked open when Vanny pressed a button. The boy swallowed and looked up at the bunny when she gave his hand a little squeeze.

He couldn’t tell if she was really smiling at him behind that large crooked grin, but he forced a smile back regardless.

It took a few moments but when the elevator finally started moving upwards, Gregory’s heart fluttered a little as he looked through the glass down towards the arena. It was quiet and empty, which made him wonder just how much time had really passed.  

There was no sign of his mom either.

A sharp, high-pitched tone suddenly rang out as they made it to the VIP room. Gregory cringed and had to cover his ears but Vanny didn’t seem bothered at all as she silently took his hand again.

Pushing all his doubts to one side, Gregory beamed as he prepared himself to finally meet Glamrock Freddy. He had gone through a bunch of speeches in his head but they all sounded dumb as hell, so he opted for a more natural approach, not that that was going to be much better.

But there was still one thing he needed.

Just as he was about to ask Vanny to get his picture back, the doors slid open.  

Gregory’s look of joy twisted into one of horror as he wasn’t greeted by Glamrock Freddy, but by four knocked out boys tied up on a sofa; the biggest one mumbling in his sleep.

Rob.

Before he could even register what was going on, Gregory was shoved to the ground with his arms forced back as Vanny dragged him towards the back.

“V-Vanny?!” The little boy yelped as she started tying his wrists together. “What are you-?!”

“Shhhhh...” she gently hummed as something sharp and metal barely pricked his throat. “I promise I’ll make this quick, okay? No need for tears, now.”

He hadn’t even noticed he’d been crying before she gently wiped the tears away with a tut-tut. The tall rabbit then set aside her knife – much to Gregory’s relief – and pulled out a small box with a familiar crescent moon on the cover.

“Told ya I’d get ‘em with Moondrop’s Sleepy-Time Candy!” she said, a hint of that cheerful tone creeping back in. “Though I’m not sure why kids would want sweets that would put them to sleep...”  

“I-I thought the exact same thing...” Gregory weakly replied.  

“Weird, right?”

“Totally...weird.”

He wasn’t even sure why he was having a conversation with this psycho, but desperation made him think that he could maybe appeal to her better nature.  

There was a moment then, in which she appeared to be wistful as she tapped her finger against the box, almost as if she were carefully considering her next move. Gregory decided to jump at this chance.

“Please... p-please let me go.”

She stopped tapping and looked directly at him. He tried to look past those bulging crimson eyes and see her for what she actually was: a fellow human being. A person. With feelings. Like him.

With another tap, a white piece of candy dropped into the palm of her hand.

“Sorry, kiddo...”

His vision suddenly went dark as she grabbed onto his face and tried to force his mouth open. The little boy kicked, thrashed and even managed to bite her at one point. He couldn’t fight back the tears streaming down his face as she quickly managed to get the upper hand; by using hers to block the airways of his nose.

“Don’t fight it...!” She hissed. “It’ll be a lot less painful that way-!”

There was a sudden shriek as something pummeled her to the floor, and Gregory gasped for breath.  

His eyes widened when they locked with Rob’s, who was lying on his side, still slightly dazed. Next to him, Vanny groaned and clutched her head.

Gregory took this fleeting moment and just about managed to slide his skinny wrists out of the loosely tied ropes before diving to Rob’s side and tried to undo the knots on his ankles first. His whole body screamed at him to run but he couldn’t just leave without trying to free the others.

“Awww...” came a sickly-sweet voice that made their blood run cold. “Are you two best buds now?”

Both boys looked up to see Vanny standing over them, her body oddly crooked as she brandished her knife.

“It’s amazing what can bring us together, huh?”

“Run!”

Rob’s shout spurred on Gregory’s legs as they propelled him forward, barely managing to dodge Vanny’s knife as she swiped at him, though she did manage to nick him on the cheek. As she tripped over Rob’s body and into the couch, Gregory used this valuable time to dash into the elevator and rapidly push the button, ignoring his guilty conscience pleading for him to go back.

As the door’s finally started closing, he mouthed “I’ll come back for you.” Though one look into Rob’s terrified eyes had told him that the older boy had already accepted his fate.

Gregory yelped and fell back as Vanny made one more plunge for him, screaming and howling in anger and despair when her knife clashed with metal as the doors sealed shut.

Stunned into silence, he could only stare ahead as the elevator slowly descended, not even flinching when that sharp chime announced his destination. The doors opened to the eerily quiet Fazer Tag arena, meaning that he must have pressed the wrong button, but that didn’t matter now.  

Adrenaline was the only thing that managed to get his jellified legs to work as he managed to get himself up and out of the elevator before it was recalled.

Muffled footsteps invaded the stillness that hung around the arena like a cloak as Gregory quickly crept towards the neon archway that led to the reception desk. The little glimmer of hope that he held was dashed when he saw that it was empty.

Gregory’s heart sunk even further when he wandered out into the mall as he was greeted with nothing but a hush. The noise and laughter and music that had been blaring just hours before was painfully amiss, along with the brightness and warmth of the sun that beamed through the glass ceiling; now replaced with cold moonlight beams cutting through the dark.

“Mom...?” he couldn’t help but weakly croak out.

No answer.

“Mom!”  

Despite the fact that it was likely that Vanny had heard him and was probably already tracking him down, Gregory shouted and pleaded and even screamed for his mother as he ran around the mall, each call becoming more and more desperate.

Why wasn’t she here? She should be here, kneeling and embracing him with open arms. Had she just left and forgotten about him? She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t!

Hysterical and in tears, he somehow managed to loop back to where he had been before Vanny had taken him away. All the show rooms had their curtains drawn as the animatronics had likely been retired for the night.  

Slowing to a stop in front of Glamrock Freddy’s room, Gregory sniffed and sat on the floor with his knees hugged up against his chest. He tried to take slow and deep breaths as he attempted to muddle through the fog in his brain for any kind of smart idea on how to survive through the rest of tonight.

“Gregory...”

A sharp pain jabbed up from under his ribs as he quickly got to his feet, spinning around to try and locate the source of Vanny’s voice as it echoed through the mall.

“Your friends are worried about you,” she said, tone disturbingly calm and soothing. “They’re here with me. Please come out...?”

Backing up against the drapes of Glamrock Freddy’s room, Gregory slipped behind them and into the darkness of the room, peeking through the slit for any sign of movement.

“Gregory,” she tried again. “I may have lost my temper earlier...but it was just a glitch...”  

He gasped slightly as her voice started to distort, how was she even...?

“It won’t happen again.”

As soft footsteps grew closer and the shadow of a pair of tall ears materialized near the statue of Roxanne, Gregory slowly stepped back and let the gloominess of the room envelop him as he tried to control his erratic breathing.

“It’s been such a difficult day for all of us.”

Gregory could just about make out a small twinkle as her knife glinted in the moonlight.

“Why don’t you come out, and we can play a game together?”

Barely registering the stinging pain as tears ran down his face and through the small gash on his right cheek, he kept backing up until he hit something hard and metal.

“It won’t happen again.”

The little boy tried to cry out when he was suddenly yanked up by the collar of his shirt and shoved into a small, dark space. He was dazed for a moment before beads of sweat started to trail down his forehead as he felt around the four enclosed walls of his prison. It had a cold and almost plastic feel to it, and there wasn’t much room for maneuvering.  

His throat felt like it was being squeezed as he choked and struggled to breathe.

“...It was just a glitch...”

She sounded so close now, the distortions in her voice seemed to reverberate through the cage he was in. He had to escape. Run away from this place. Look for a way to free Rob. Phone the police. Find his mom.  

He had to get out now.

With trembling legs, Gregory tried to kick the walls down. He didn’t know what way was up or down but all he could do was kick. Kick. Kick!

“Gregory.”

Flinching at the different voice – deep as thunder but gentle like a breeze – the boy slowly ceased his kicking and let out sharp, shallow breaths.  

W-was this...? It couldn’t be...

“Be still.”  

A beat of silence followed.

“I think she’s found us.”

Gregory held his breath when he heard the curtains swing open and a flick of the switch as the lights buzzed to life. He could hear Vanny moving about the room, pausing every so often to look behind the arcade or the sofa. There was even a brief moment where he swore she had found him when he heard heavy breathing dead ahead. He grimaced as a light tapping of metal upon metal suddenly rung out within the hollow space.

Vanny made a sound of frustration before storming out, but Gregory didn’t dare breathe before he was sure she was gone.

He was probably starting to become blue in the face before his prison suddenly opened up. Without a moment’s hesitation, he tumbled out and landed ungracefully on his face, but he didn’t really care at this point. He was just glad to be out of the void.

There was a soft “Oh!” behind him before a pair of large metal hands carefully lifted him up from under the arms and held him steady. Staring ahead at a large blue lightning bolt upon a light brown chest, Gregory’s wide eyes slowly trailed up to see Glamrock Freddy staring right back down at him.

“Are you okay?” The animatronic asked.

The boy tried to swallow but his throat had dried up.

“I apologize for acting so abruptly,” he continued, taking off his hat and sheepishly shuffled it between his hands. “I didn’t know any other way to get you to safety before she came. But I didn’t mean to be quite so rough.”

“It’s...okay...” Gregory managed to rasp out, still not quite believing he was talking to the Glamrock Freddy. He would have been ecstatic if not for the dire situation.

“Thanks for...um...s-saving my life.”

The bear seemed to brighten up a bit at that as he put his hat back on and held out a hand.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Gregory! I do wish we could have met under more...pleasant circumstances but here we are. My name is-”

“Glamrock Freddy, I know,” he interrupted, before quickly adding, “I’m...a big fan.”

Timidly, the boy took the robot’s hand, almost yelping when it was shaken rather vigorously.  

“Always a pleasure to meet a fan!”

Vaguely reminded of when he met Vanny, Gregory berated himself for being so immediately trusting. But...this was Freddy. Surely the robots weren’t kidnapping kids too?

His eyes wandered up towards the chest compartment that he had been in just moments before. It was...quite an oddly specific function to have.

“How uh...how do you know my name?” Gregory asked, pulling his hand away a bit too quickly, though Freddy didn’t seem to mind.

“She was calling out for you.”

Alright. That was fair.

“Oh! And you also left this behind,” the robot said as he pulled out a piece of paper, smoothing out the creases before handing it over. “One of the stewards found it and brought it to me. It has your signature.”

Gregory took it and stared down at the colorful picture, snorting a little when he recognized it as his own. He should have known that those compliments from Vanny had been nothing but empty, honeyed words just to lure him into her trap. His own mother had warned him about such types of people.  

The boy almost smiled at how downright stupid he was.

“I really like the cape,” Freddy suddenly said, making him wince. “The colors are so vibrant!”

Gregory wanted to thank him for stating the obvious but couldn’t find it in him to do so. Hours ago he would have been on cloud nine hearing such praise from his hero. Now they just seemed so...hollow and meaningless.

He frowned at the picture for a few more moments before something sharp poked him on the cheek, causing him to hiss in pain and scoot back.

Freddy also recoiled and withdrew his hand, looking guilty at having hurt the boy.

“You’re bleeding...”  

Absently putting a hand to his cheek, he felt the wound that Vanny had inflicted on him earlier, and scowled when his fingers came back wet with fresh blood.

“Come with me.”

Gregory blinked in shock as the robot stood up to his full height and towered over him, realizing that he barely made it past his knee joint. He couldn’t help but feel just a tad bit intimidated.

Moving towards the back of the room, Freddy opened the metal door behind the stage curtains and made his way in. Suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of being left alone, Gregory got up from the floor and hastily followed.

He was hit with that musty stench from the underground tunnels again, though here it wasn’t quite so strong. It was a basic room with a red carpet and brick and mortar walls with a few chairs and what seemed to be some kind of charging station – most likely for Freddy.

Gregory watched as the animatronic pulled out a red and white box from a cabinet and carried it over, opening it to reveal medical contents.  

“This will sting,” Freddy stated as he knelt down and held out an antiseptic wipe. “Can you be brave?”

“I’m not five,” Gregory mumbled back, trying not to wince when the gash started to sting.

“How old are you then? If you don’t mind my asking.”

The boy narrowed his eyes slightly, still wondering if he should even be here instead of running for the hills. Though clearly that hadn’t exactly worked out the first time.

“...Eleven,” he eventually answered.

“Hm,” the bear hummed, as if mulling over something. “You’re very mature for your age.”

“T-Thanks.”

He wasn’t really sure if he was so mature as he had just been running around screaming and crying for his mother like a lost fawn while a psychopath was on the loose just ten minutes ago, but he didn’t argue.

“There, and we’re done!” Freddy said as he smoothed a band-aid over Gregory’s wound. “How does that feel?”

“Better, thanks,” the boy replied as he lightly touched it. “And thanks again for saving my life back there. If you hadn’t, she...she would have...”

His chest tightened up a little. Freddy refused to meet his eyes as he put the box away.

“Do...do you know her?” Gregory asked. “Her name’s Vanny and-”

“No,” Freddy cut in. “I have scanned her, and she does not come up on my database. She is not staff.”

It was that sentence that starkly reminded Gregory that he was really talking to a walking, talking machine. And that took a little bit of the magic away for him...

“Yet she has access to all areas of the complex,” Freddy continued, tilting his head with an almost baffled look. “It has confused myself and the others; her skulking everywhere.”

“The others?”

“Chica, Roxanne and Montgomery.”

“Monty,” Gregory corrected.

“Hm?”

“You call him Monty in the show.”

“Ah. Yes.”

Gregory frowned a little.

“But alas, we cannot do anything about her.”

“What uh...what do you mean?” Gregory asked, suddenly feeling his blood run a bit cold.

“It goes against our programming,” Freddy bluntly replied. “We cannot harm adults.”

“You can’t...ah...” was all he could say. That just pretty much blew all of his plans out of the water.

“We tried to warn the other staff members but they wouldn’t listen, and they had the gall to complain about fixing our mainframes-”

Freddy’s ramblings just turned into white noise as Gregory stared ahead; all those cool montages of him riding in the animatronic’s chest while he kicked Vanny’s ass and rescued Rob and the others was slowly becoming less and less likely.

It was only when a metal pair of fingers snapped in front of him that brought him crashing back down to reality.

“But...!” Gregory stammered as he tried to come up with a more plausible plan. “But even if you can’t hurt her, can’t you just carry me to the front door or something?”

“Gregory-”

“Or just take me to a phone so I can call the police! You know she’s kidnapped other kids, right?”

Freddy held up his hands in an attempt to calm him down. “I did not. But-”

“Rob’s the reason I even managed to get away, we have to go help him...!”

“Gregory.”

A heavy weight on his shoulders and Freddy’s tone finally got him to shut his mouth.

“I wish I could do all those things for you, but the fact of the matter is...I can’t.”

The boy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Myself and the others are confined to our rooms at night.”

“I’m...I’m sorry, confined? By what? The curtains?”

“Security protocols.”

“But I saw you wander around earlier!”

“We are allowed to during the day, but at night our security protocols-”

“I don’t care about your security whatever!” Gregory blurted out as quietly as he could. “There is a psycho dressed as a freaking rabbit out there who is trying to kill me right now!”

He tried to push away the hands on his shoulders but was unable to as Freddy looked down upon with a sympathetic frown – one that was strikingly akin to his mom’s.

“And she’s taken these other kids hostage a-and now I have to rescue them or she’ll kill them and I just...I just want...”

His vision suddenly blurred, and he struggled to hold the tears back as he furiously wiped them away, angry at himself for getting so worked up.

Gregory’s breath hitched when he felt himself being gently pressed up against Freddy’s chest, with one hand on his head and the other on his back, steadying him. He had seen the other kids getting hugs from the animatronics before, and while he had been envious, he couldn’t help but imagine it feeling cold and a little uncomfortable.

But it was nothing like that; instead, it was warm and inviting, and it was enough to open the floodgates for Gregory as he clung onto the robot.

“I just...want...my mom...”

They stayed like that for a while, with Gregory quietly sobbing as Freddy tried to console him, rubbing small circles along his back in a soothing motion and gently patting his head as the boy eventually managed to get it all out of his system.

“Gregory,” Freddy started, making him look up as he wiped his nose. “While it may go against my programming...” the animatronic paused for a moment before smiling down at him. “I will do my best to override it.”

“Really? You mean you’ll help me?”

“Yes. I will assist you in evading that ‘psycho’, as you put it – and get you out. To the best of my ability.”

Gregory smiled back, before adding, “And the others too? I can’t leave without them.”

“The... others too,” the bear reluctantly agreed.

Wiping away the last of his tears, he nodded gratefully, perking up when Freddy opened up his chest apartment and offered his hand as a step.

Climbing up and settling in, what had felt like a claustrophobic prison now felt like a safe haven from the dangers that awaited him out there.

“Oh, before I forget,” Freddy mulled as he re-entered the show room, bending down to pick up Gregory’s drawing. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Grinning from ear to ear, he leaned out and took the drawing and a small pin from Freddy, the robot keeping him steady as he stuck the drawing up with the others. He could feel himself swell up with pride in a fleeting moment that made him forget about the horrors that awaited him.

“Now,” Freddy started as he closed his chest compartment and peeked through the curtains to check if the coast was clear. “We may need some help. How would you like to meet the others?”

xxx

A wash of light flooded across the polished checkered floors and shone up towards the golden statue of Freddy as a woman entered through the security barriers. Brushing back her golden hair and securing her cap on, she sighed as she pulled out a photograph of a young boy with messy brown hair and a huge toothy grin.

His mother had been hysterical when she entered the security office, claiming that it had been her fault for leaving him and thinking that he wouldn’t just wander off. They had looked through the camera feed but given how busy this place was during the day, it was a needle in a haystack situation.

But now that it was empty, her job would begin. She had six hours.

“Alright Gregory...” Vanessa said, putting the photo into her pocket. “Let’s see if we can find you.”

xxx

And that’s the end! I’ve decided to leave the ending a bit vague because of the whole Vanny/Vanessa debate. I’d love to write more at this point but I’ll probably wait until the game comes out (hopefully soon!) Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you did!

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 6 - Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Word Count: 4700 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Opposites Attract, Trans Male Character, Forced Outing, Pining, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Summary: New intel from Curie brings new rules about the quarantine process. This puts Zolf and Wilde in an awkward position. A/N - The forced outing depicted in this chapter isn’t through any malicious intent, but rather circumstances outside character control. There are no transphobic sentiments portrayed in this series, internalised or direct, but some of Wilde’s caution around disclosing indicates that this is a world where transphobia exists. These things could make for an uncomfortable experience for some readers.

The few times that Zolf went out on missions alone, usually on fruitless attempts to scout the Shoin Institute, it had been Barnes that welcomed him back and locked him in. Zolf didn’t mind isolation stretches, but he didn’t love that Wilde kept himself absent for the entire duration. He understood why, but there was something unsettling about coming home, and yet having to wait for what he felt like was the proper homecoming of being reunited with Wilde. But he coped with it just fine.

When the invitation from Curie came for a meeting, and specified that only one person was welcome, Zolf fought hard for it to be him.

“You’ve never even met Curie.” Wilde pointed out, voice level despite the heat in Zolf’s tone. “It makes far more sense for me to go, and someone needs to stay here.”

“At least take Barnes with you,” Zolf countered, knowing he was being ridiculous but unable to help it. He’d known that this time was coming but that didn’t make it come any easier. “He don’t have to come with you to meet her, but he can keep you safe.”

Wilde’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Zolf crossed his arms, stymied. It wasn’t that he was overprotective. But he couldn’t squash the memory of Wilde’s face, slippery with blood beneath frantic fingers, or the haunted look in Wilde’s eyes when he emerged from isolation.

“I won’t even be gone long, Zolf. Curie is going to meet me in Hiroshima.”

Zolf opened his mouth to argue further, and was stopped by Wilde closing his eyes, looking genuinely tired for a moment. Normally Wilde relished a bit of verbal sparring and the two of them fought as easily as they breathed. But something about the way he sighed gave Zolf pause.

When Wilde next spoke, his voice was soft, a rare pleading in his tone. “I know, Zolf. I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it, but I have been looking at these same four walls for months. I am sick of not being a productive member of this team.”

“WHAT!” Zolf exploded. “You are the most productive member! Me n’ Barnes n’ Carter would be nothin’ without-”

“You know what I mean!” Wilde said, frustrated. Zolf hardly ever saw him like this. Anger was an emotion that Wilde kept locked away, just like his fear. “I’m sick of people treating me like I’m some sort of china doll, just because I can’t cast anymore!”

Zolf spluttered. “You’re not- we don’- nobody said-”

Wilde raised his hand. “I appreciate your concern, Zolf, I really do. But I’m going on this mission. And I am asking you-” Wilde drew a deep breath in through his nose “-to trust me.”

Well. That had been played like a trump card. Zolf felt something in him release, the angry churn of his stomach dissipating. If there was any truth left in the world at this point, it was that Zolf trusted Wilde.

He nodded.

---

As was protocol, on the evening he returned, Zolf, Barnes and Carter made themselves scarce until Wilde was safely in the anti-magic chamber, not detouring to any other rooms of the inn. They had arrangements for how to handle if a returning party member didn’t head straight for what they’d all started calling “the box,” but thankfully it was yet to come up. Zolf headed in after, with the keys to the cell, fresh clothes, and a bowl of prawn gyoza in hand.

“How’s Hiroshima?” Zolf asked, locking up and passing through the food.

Wilde didn’t respond, just levelled Zolf with a flat glare.

Zolf shrugged. “You can talk to me, an’ if at the end of the week you’re compromised, I’ll just assume that anythin’ you said was false intel, yeah? Until then,” Zolf pulled up the chair that sat outside and cell and settled it. “There’s no harm in it going this way,” he swept his hand from Wilde’s direction toward himself. “I just won’t tell you anything you don’t already know.” He, quite simply, was not going to take no for an answer. He wasn’t leaving Wilde alone with his thoughts for a week.

Wilde managed to look disapproving for a moment more, then a little smirk slipped through the veneer. “I find it difficult to believe you know anything I don’t, Smith.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“I can’t help it if I just happen to be the brains of the operation.” Wilde gave a small, defeated chuckle, and sat on the cot. He started undoing the anti-magic cuffs and massaging his ankles. Sometimes when there was no one using the box, Wilde would come sleep down here just for a chance to take them off for a little while.

“Hiroshima is well enough, but Curie says Cairo is a mess. The sandstorms have been giving it absolute hell. Anyone who doesn’t still need to be there isn’t, though it’s still seeing a lot of refugee traffic.” He picked up the food Zolf had passed through.

“From Europe?”

Wilde nodded between popping gyoza into his mouth. “These are very good, you know.”

Zolf waved a hand. “Hiromi’s been giving me lessons. She’s much nicer about it than her husband.”

Wilde updated Zolf on Curie’s operation. When he mentioned that she had been gifted the old Tahan estate, Zolf’s gut squeezed. It had been… almost over a year since he’d seen Hamid, and months since they’d last heard from him and the others. It was almost impossible to think that they were still alive, but without bodies or news, there was no way forward. Both men were left lingering in ambivalence, hope laid thick and heavy over a grief that couldn’t surface.

Wilde finished his food and frowned. He spoke more hesitantly than before. “There is one more thing I should tell you. We need to update some of the protocols.”

“Yeh? Howso?”

“The blue vein rumours? About the infected? Confirmed. More importantly, Curie says in every instance of a double agent, the blue veins have appeared on the body first, not the face or hands.” Wilde was overexplaining in a way that was unlike him. “In addition to the quarantine, being on the lookout for behavioural changes, Curie also recommended we do,” Wilde hesitated, again in a most un-Wilde-like fashion, “…visual inspections of those in quarantine. Thorough ones.” He fluttered nervous hands up and down his torso to illustrate.

As Zolf slowly turned over the implications, Wilde turned to rummage through his bag and withdraw papers. He gestured for Zolf to come take them through the slot.

“Reports, signed and sealed, detailing it all.”

Zolf took them, still absorbing what Wilde had said. He didn’t look through the bars. If he had, he would have seen something cautious and watchful in Wilde’s eyes.

The silence stretched on too long between them.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I am going to get some sleep. The boat from here to the mainland isn’t exactly a luxury cruiser, and I am exhausted.” Wilde flumped down onto the cot to punctuate the point.

“I… yeh. I’ll go have a look through these reports.” As Zolf walked away from the box, he paused in the door. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said. I’m glad you’re safe, he didn’t add.

“Of course you are,” Wilde replied without missing a beat. “This place must be dreadfully dull without me to liven it up for you.”

Zolf rolled his eyes and headed upstairs.

Having read through Curie’s reports, the next day Zolf went back to Wilde’s cell with his heart in his mouth.

Naked inspections. It’s just one thing after another in this brave new fucking world, isn’t it, he thought, agitated.

The whole situation was ridiculous. What was he so worried about? After everything they’d been through there was a certain trust, an ease between them now. What was a bit of nudity in the face of all that?

He was only feeling nervy about it because he was sure that Wilde was going to be a dick about it, in his usual style. Getting under Zolf’s skin hadn’t stopped being a hobby of Wilde’s, and this whole situation set the stage for his insufferable needling.

Wilde stood quickly as Zolf entered. He’d changed out of the clothes he’d travelled to Hiroshima in, and was now wearing long dark pants and his favourite yukata, the one with green and pink floral pattern.

“I read through all the reports,” Zolf began.

“We might as well get this over with,” Wilde said at the same time, and then laughed a little manically.

Zolf took his seat, waited for Wilde to quiet, then continued. “Curie also recommended we start askin’ people to tell us stories of things that only the other would know. Code words aren’t enough because it’s more about how you do the retellin’ than it is about the information.” Wilde’s face relaxed at the notion of delaying what came next.

“I’ll get you to tell me about… tell me how you remember our first meetin’, then.” Zolf said. Since all the other people who were there are either dead or presumed dead, he didn’t want to add.

Wilde launched into an explanation of flaming notepads, blood noses, slipping into his storyteller shoes with relief. It was nice to listen to him perform, even if thinking about Hamid and Sasha was depressing.

“And,” Wilde wound up, “I just happened to linger by the door and overhear you mention something about my bum, of all things. Now, if you’ll do me the favour of telling what that was, and we can all move forward assured of each other’s memory, though probably not their integrity.”

Oh, curses. He hadn’t thought Wilde had still been around for those comments. He crossed his arms and frowned loudly.

“Come now Zolf, you’ve already said it, you can’t take it back now.” Exactly as Zolf had suspected, Wilde seemed to be delighting in causing Zolf discomfort once again, whilst he slipped back into his old, familiar smarm. Wilde wrapped his hands around the bars of the cell and bounced slightly on his toes.

“I said,” Zolf pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said it was very nice.” And he stood by it, but Wilde didn’t need to know that.

Wilde laughed, free and throaty, running his hand through his hair in a way that Zolf knew, if he had access to his magic, would be accompanied by a bawdy shimmer of sparkles. For a moment, things felt bright.

The energy snapped back. Wilde wasn’t performing for a party, he wasn’t needling Zolf for a laugh, he was locked up in a cell waiting to find out if he had an infection that would turn him into something unrecognizable and dangerous… Wilde dropped his hands from the adamantine, and the two of them fell silent.

“I can go get Barnes, if you’d prefer,” Zolf said with a useless gesture. Wilde was already shaking his head.

“What’s a bit of nudity between… friends.” Wilde asked, with a quizzical tilt of his head. His eyes were asking does friends really cover it anymore? Zolf didn’t have an answer.

Zolf didn’t know how to get this whole awkward scenario started, so he just waited, his mouth dry. There was something so grim in Wilde’s face, and Zolf didn’t understand. His obvious discomfort with the notion of watching Wilde undress should’ve delighted the man. It should have been ammunition.

As Wilde started on the ties of his yukata, for the briefest of moments, Zolf’s discomfort was replaced by a blistering anger at the absurdity of it all. All those moments he had wanted to be closer to Wilde, to touch his bare skin or to hold him… but he hadn’t asked for this. Between the two of them hung a nascent possibility. A possibility that Zolf was only just starting to acknowledge, and that deserved a chance to blossom.

That instead it should be forced to happen like this, through cell bars, was perversely unfair. To him. To Wilde. To the pair of them and all the ways that this could have been different.

Wilde paused, as if seeing the flash of anger in Zolf’s eyes. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. “Thinking about… hmph. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” With that non sequitur, he disrobed, turning his body to drape the cloth over the cot.

As he turned back, Zolf was struck by a sudden realisation; he’d never seen Wilde with his shirt off. Never swum together, never seen him coming back from bathing with a towel around his waist. Even in the heat, Wilde always wore his shirt buttoned, his yukata firmly tied. Zolf swore he could see Wilde’s chest in his mind’s eye. It just made sense. Wilde had certainly seen Zolf’s chest; they’d been living in each other’s pockets for almost a year now and Zolf didn’t think much of it.

But no, because if he’d seen Wilde without the shirt, he would know that Wilde had a smattering of dark chest hair. And more scars on his torso than seemed right. The wounds from Douglas had torn two messy gashes near the ribs, and those scars were present as expected. But there were two more - slightly crescent shaped, uniform and well-healed - swooping across his chest just beneath flat nipples.

Surgical scars.

The air was knocked out of Zolf’s lungs. His body had grasped answers before his mind did. His thoughts felt sluggish, crawling, gasping to catch up, and when they did it was with the lurching realisation of just how unfair it was that they had been brought here, to this cell, to this grotesque scenario, against their will.

Wilde undid the drawstring of his pants and stepped out of them. Dark hair ran in a soft line from his navel down, fanning out to the triangle that dipped between his legs. His face was carefully blank, as he lifted his hands, palms up, in a sardonic “ta-dah” gesture.

Zolf was frozen inside his mind, as Wilde turned slowly on the spot.

He did have a fantastic arse, the perfect balance of muscular and plush, and once again Zolf was furious that any hint of eros in this had been utterly perverted.

Wilde turned back to face Zolf and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Zolf nodded again, his mouth dry. Wilde dressed, not rushed but efficient.

They sat in silence for a time.

“You never told me,” was all Zolf could think of to say.

“Fantastically witty and incisive commentary from one Zolf Smith, yet again,” Wilde said, voice like acrid smoke. Nothing made Wilde bite like losing the upper hand.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I jus’, I’ll go-” Zolf tried to walk and turn at the same time and knocked into the stool, clanging it down to the floor. He righted it with hands that shook and headed for the stairs.

“Zolf!” Wilde called after him. “You don’t have to leave.”

Well. That was as close to begging as Wilde ever got.

Zolf returned to his stool, and re-joined the silence. Wilde sat on the cot, watching the close wall of the cell with a face that Zolf recognised; it was one of Wilde’s favourite expressions, deliberately mild, open, waiting. It gave away nothing and invited everything. For Wilde, it was safety.

Other people, people who didn’t know Wilde as well, might take that as an invitation to speak. Zolf wasn’t other people. He thought about all the times he’d stumbled through something awkward, with good intentions but clumsy words. He had no idea how to proceed, other than it was probably wise to wait, and let Wilde find words first.

“Don’t feel bad about me not telling you.” Wilde said eventually. “It usually doesn’t come up, unless I’m sleeping with someone. Even then you’d be impressed at what can be achieved with creative use of props, dim lighting and a bit of magic.” He trailed his hand wistfully through the air, an impotent somatic component.

Zolf continued to wait, to leave the man space. Zolf wasn’t the one who’d been stripped, forced into a deeply personal disclosure without plan or intent.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, you see. It's more… it feels like handing over a weapon, and I try to avoid that if I can. And well, I’m usually not in someone’s acquaintance long enough to feel bad about keeping it a secret.” There was an apology tucked between the words, and Zolf nodded even though Wilde wasn’t watching

He paused to run his thumb over the facial scarring, once, twice. “Bosie knew.”

Wilde let the silence stretch on long enough that Zolf felt like he had to speak or he would never stop thinking about skidding through Wilde’s blood on a cold stone floor. “You… you used to use your magic for it, righ’?”

Wilde barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, for practically all of it! It was the reason I got so good at glamours! Back in Cairo I… I suspected that an anti-magic chamber or cuffs might halt the hexing, but I couldn’t, you see? I’d been doing it for so long. Everyone knew me as a man.” He shrugged, saying obviously with his shoulders. “I couldn’t go back.”

Zolf examined Wilde’s face. He was still carefully keeping his gaze on the cell wall. He still had that mild expression on his face, as though they discussed what to have for lunch, not one of the lowest points of his life. But he didn’t seem upset, so Zolf pressed on. “What happened?”

“Oh I…” he huffed a small laugh. “I got lucky. Turns out Grizzop already knew. I don’t think I reacted quite right when he punched me in the crotch.” Now something like genuine fondness crept into Wilde’s voice. “He suspected what might happen if I had to stop casting; he helped smooth things over. I was in no position to be fending for myself at that juncture, I had let the curse go on too long.” Wilde looked at his hands. “I will always be grateful to him.”

Wilde sounded like a man who knew, without a doubt, that the object of his gratitude was dead.

“Once it became clear the cuffs were going to become a permanent accessory, he set things up with the Cult of Aphrodite for me to have surgery and for them to supply the right potions. They have all the gear and know-how, of course. Not everyone in my position is a caster.”

Something else clicked in place for Zolf as he pondered the technicalities of non-magical surgery.

“Wait a minute. You were still recovering from that when we joined back up, weren’t you?”

Wilde’s brow crinkled as he considered timelines. “That’s right. Scarring needs to heal with almost no magical intervention, otherwise it’s back to square one. So it was… quite painful, to be quite honest. And compared to magical healing, the process drags on and on.”

Wilde smoothed a hand over his robe-clad chest. “I like it better this way now. No more binding my chest just in case, though I try to be careful about who sees the scars.” His voice was light, that faux-levelness starting to fade and he just, talked. Wilde was relieved, Zolf realised with a start. He wanted to tell Zolf about these things.

“It’s nice to just … be myself. Even at the end of day when I’m tired and can’t cast anymore.” And he finally looked at Zolf and smiled. Not a smirk or grin, just a completely open smile that welcomed Zolf into his joy instead of belittling or declaring victory with it. Even with the scar, sitting in a dim cell, he looked radiant.

As Zolf went to smile back, he felt his face wobble. This - Wilde smiling, confiding, being easy and honest with him - it was a better outcome than he could have hoped for. He felt the sudden bloom of Wilde’s smile in his chest, the warmth of the man’s trust.

But this was merely day one of seven, and it was still terrifyingly possible that the man who sat across from him was not Wilde at all. So Zolf’s smile twisted as it appeared on his face, and he didn’t reply, allowing them to lapse back into silence.

Day 2

“Wouldn’ it be- well not easier but less, I dunno- to just wait and do one inspection on the last day?” Zolf asked. He’d brought down breakfast and the paper, and they’d sat quietly as they ate; Wilde had finished eating and was starting on the motions of undressing.

“Zolf. My dear.” Wilde cocked his head in that patronising way that he did when he thought Zolf had said something legitimately dumb. “If I am reading your intentions correctly, your plan for the week is to eschew all your other jobs to waste away at my door-” Zolf opened his mouth to argue and Wilde simply raised his voice and pressed on “-not that I am complaining, but if you truly are going to while away the days with me, and then on the final day, you find out I have been infected the whole time and have to kill me, how, pray tell, is that going to make you feel?”

Zolf snapped his mouth shut.

“Wouldn’t you rather know as soon as it comes up?” Wilde pointed out, frustratingly reasonable.

Zolf simply wanted to throw the cell doors open because there didn’t seem any possibility that the man behind the bars was anything other than 100% pure, vexatious Oscar Wilde, but he stilled his twitching hand. Wilde’s question was to remain unanswered as Zolf simply gestured go on then and Wilde, with a grim, self-satisfied nod, started to strip.

Day 3

“No, don’tcha see, if Jennifer had gone to Antony in the garden, her mother would have known from the get-go-”

“But I simply don’t see how Alianne knowing would have improved things for Jennifer-”

“She was supportive, she could’ve helped smooth things over when Antony’s sister started her meddlin’, and they could have wrapped the whole thing up before supper!”

“Yes, but where is the fun in that, Zolf?”

Day 4

As Wilde dispassionately disrobed for a fourth time, Zolf realised there was now a familiarity to Wilde’s naked body, and that was jarring.

He wasn’t lanky, not really, but Zolf couldn’t help but think of most humans that way. The truth was he was solid enough in build, surprisingly muscular for a man who mostly rode a desk. His legs and arse especially were firm with it. He does a lot of walking about the village, I s’pose.

Zolf watched Wilde turn on the spot and he longed to trace the shape of Wilde’s shoulders, cup his ass, rub my damn nose in that soft lookin’ chest hair and…

Zolf ground his teeth against the wrongness of it all.

He thought of slipping his hands between Wilde’s legs, and though the shape of the fantasy had changed, the intensity had not.

It had been a long time since Zolf had felt a physical or sexual attraction like this, and the fact that it was at the most inconvenient time, and the most unlikely person, was enough to make him think he’d made a mistake breaking ties with Poseidon. Maybe if he hadn’t eschewed divine favour, he would have been protected from whatever trickster god had decided to throw this at him.

He kept his hands in his pockets so that Wilde wouldn’t see him clench his fists.

Maybe I should offer to strip too. At least that would put us on an equally horrible footing, Zolf mused.

Wilde dressed and turned back to look at Zolf with careful, watchful eyes. Wilde was in the business of reading even the most inscrutable enemies like a book, and at this point he had a thorough translation guide for Zolf. He knew it bothered the dwarf. The fact that Wilde hadn’t made a bunch of lewd comments was probably his idea of a kindness, but the absence of Wilde’s typical peacocking it somehow made it worse.

When he looked at him like that, it made Zolf feel like he was the one in the cell.

Zolf cleared his throat. “Got a new crossword book if you like?”

Day 5

“Pawn to E4.”

A chess board sat on a small table just outside the cell. Zolf moved the white pawn for Wilde then took his own move.

“Knight to G3.” Wilde said in a bored tone. He’d voted for bridge, but Zolf had talked him out of it. Too difficult to wrangle cards between the cell’s bars and mesh, he’d pointed out. Which was true, but what was also true was that Wilde was surprisingly bad at chess (it was much easier to cheat in cards).

Whilst Zolf did feel sympathy for Wilde, things weren’t so bad that Zolf wasn’t going to relish the opportunity to beat him at something for a change.

Day 6

Each day Wilde got closer to being comfortable with the inspections. Closer but not there. Half a lifetime of needing to be guarded about who saw your body created some strong foundational habits. That foundation wasn’t going to be eroded in seven days, regardless of how much you trusted the person who saw you.

But still, it could have been worse. Zolf shuddered to think what would have happened if this situation had been thrust on them a year ago. Their friendship, tenuous as it was, might not have been able to survive.

Dressing again, Wilde stretched the kinks out of neck. “I cannot wait to get out of here and have a proper bath and a nice long walk.”

“Nearly there.” Zolf said absently. He’d stopped needing to worry every second moment that Wilde was infected. Even though they’d been dealing with it all with distractions, with laughter, with pretending like it wasn’t happening, Zolf felt the sudden urge to be honest.

“I’m sorry that… that it happened like this. That you didn’t get a choice in tellin’ me about...” Your past? Your journey? Your truth? “…Everythin’.”

Wilde made a face of surprise, but instead of deflecting the offer of an honest conversation, he accepted. “Me too. I intended to, but as I said. I’m rarely… close enough with someone that I feel they deserve it. I wish-” Wilde paused, considering his next words, and what other weapons he might be handing over, deeply. “I wish that the circumstances had been different.”

Zolf could just ask what he meant. He could. It was practically an invitation for him to press, to force Wilde to clarify exactly under what circumstance he’d envisioned sharing secrets about his body with Zolf… but he didn’t.

Inside Zolf, uneasy guilt gnawed at him. The circumstances they had were only these ones. Wilde was vulnerable, caged, and thoroughly without a choice; but Zolf knew there were moments he’d chosen to ignore those elements. He knew, deep in his guilty core, he had been inspecting far more than he had the right. It didn’t feel honourable to press Wilde any further after that.

“Yeah.” Zolf stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Wilde. Last day ‘n all.”

Day 7

“It would have been too much to hope that the bloody sun would come out for this, wouldn’t it,” Wilde grumbled.

Freshly released, he was pondering umbrella selection in the entry hall.

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to come with,” Zolf ventured. Wilde had come out of his quarantine cheerful enough, but there was something understandably off about him; something distant and a little contemplative. Zolf had been half-expecting, or even hoping for, one of Wilde’s warm shoulder-touches. But he had kept his hands firmly to himself.

Wilde looked up, mouth twisted wryly. “I think I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, as he always did before saying something sincere. “I do appreciate what you’ve done for me this week, Zolf, but I could use a little space.”

Zolf nodded. He’d expected as much.

Inside him, the guilt twisted a little, the word violator rising in his mind. No. Neither of them had chosen anything about this situation. If anything, their connection felt even stronger for having been through the wringer, yet again. Whatever liberties Zolf accused himself of taking, it wasn’t enough to dent that.

We’re alright. Zolf thought.

We’ll be alright. I think we both could use a little time, is all.

Wilde selected the green umbrella, gave Zolf a tentative smile, and headed out into the rain.