#but hopefully you find something helpful in here?

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: dinner daze

authors note: had this idea and ran with it. and, yes, this is how it is most nights for the fam.

words: 2.7k 

warnings: none.

Roman’s phone vibrating on his desk beside him is both a necessary and annoying distraction. In the midst of reviewing quarterly figures, a task he also hates but a necessity, it's something he prefers to complete in one sitting. However, the name across his screen—along with the message—quickly wash away any pre-existing irritation. 

Solana: dinner is ready, mi amor. ❤️

Roman leans back into his chair and rolls his shoulders, tension immediately hitting him. A frown falls upon his face as he checks the watch on his wrist. Just how long has he been in here?

Regardless, it’s pushed to the side the same way he closes up the files on his laptop and shuts the computer, rising from his desk. 

Grabbing and pocketing his phone, he walks across the space of his office, stopping when he steps on something. A look down reveals a doll smiling up at him, one of several on the expensive Persian rug. 

Roman sighs, taking a minute to gather the dolls, tossing them in the basket in the corner. It doesn’t bother him. Not really, anyway. From as far back as he can remember, really, when Lina and Leya started crawling, his office slowly became a playroom. A doll, ball, toy, device, something, always being found in some nook or cranny. Aroha is no different, often venturing into his space with her toys, sometimes wanting him to play with her, sometimes just wanting to be in his presence. 

All the kids, really. His office doubles as a “hangout” spot for most of his children several days out of the week, and while it can be irritating stepping on shit half the time, it’s something he’s gradually welcomed and just come to accept over the years.

Though, he can already hear Solana’s voice in his ear, chastising him for not making Aroha pick up after herself. 

He doesn’t entirely disagree, but doing it for her every so often won’t hurt. Plus, she’s probably already somewhere doing something. Hopefully not terrorizing her brothers. Roman already dealt with a round of the Littles going at it earlier in the day. He’s really not in the mood for the sequel.

Floor clean, toys put away, Roman walks out of his office, leaving the door cracked as he makes his way down the hall and through the house. And the closer he gets to the kitchen, the stronger the delicious smell of whatever Solana has prepared for them this evening has him licking his lips. 

She never misses in the kitchen.

She never misses with most things. 

Turning the corner welcomes him into the large, open floor plan of their massive kitchen where, sure enough, Solana is in front of the stove, moving a pot from off the front burner to the back burner, hitting the knob. Music plays in the background, something Spanish, but not loud enough to prevent her from hearing him. “Hi, baby.” She turns around, brushing her hands on her apron, gesturing to the dining room. “Go sit down.” 

He opens his mouth to protest, to do as he always does. “Let me help you.”

And with the smallest smile, she responds as she always does. “I got it.”

Roman would push, but years of being together and knowing how this all plays out prevents him from starting a losing battle. In the kitchen is Solana’s element. While it feels and looks overwhelming and chaotic to him, she is masterful and graceful and in control. She knows what she’s doing.

It’s why he doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to take her out of said element, just ventures into the dining room where he expects to see at least some of his kids, only to find one. 

Leya looks up from where she’s just placed the last plate on the table, in his spot, her smile widening. “Hi, daddy.”

Naturally, he matches her smile. This is partially why he doesn’t really stress or worry about Solana overexerting herself when it comes to cooking for their big ass family. From a young age, Leya expressed an interest in cooking, often hanging on Solana while she prepared meals, and over the years, that interest has just grown to the point where it’s really the two of them working together in tandem.

He likes it. Loves seeing how close they are. Loves seeing just how much like her mom his little girl is.

“Hey, baby.” Roman kisses her temple as she passes him, carrying the remaining plates into the kitchen, to continue helping Solana, as she always does. He goes to pull his chair out from the table when sudden, rushed, loud ass footsteps evoke an immediate, premature sigh.

“Dad.”

Roman turns around to see Lina and Tama standing there with expectant expressions. Expressions he knows all too well.

“What do ya’ll need?” 

Tama is immediately sucking his teeth. “Why you gotta be like that, pops?”

“Because I know you two,” is Roman’s deadpanned response as he proceeds to finish pulling out his chair and sitting down, both of his kids flanking either side of the table. “Now, what is it?”

Lina doesn’t waste any time. “The pre-order window for the latest Jordans just opened up—”

“And, we need em,” Tama finishes, stressing. “Need.”

“And, I need a fucking vacation,” Roman mutters, running his hand over his face. He truly does. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. No cell reception. Just him, Solana, and a bed. 

Or, any flat surface, really. 

“Are we going to Disney?”

Aroha’s little voice chimes from the side as Roman turns to see her skipping into the dining room, the train of the dress dragging behind her the same way Nala walks quietly behind her.

It’s not the fact that his youngest is wearing a whole ass princess costume to the dinner table that causes Roman to pause. He’s used to that. If Aroha isn’t wearing some sort of costume, then there’s a problem. 

“No, baby, we’re not going to Disney.” Roman is still trying to recover from the last visit. “Aroha, what’s that on your face?”

It’s that that has his attention, especially as she climbs up on the chair in between where Aria and Leya typically sit, the….stuff on her face.

“Makeup,” she answers happily with the biggest grin, reaching over to pet Nala who stretches and stands up to be pet by her favorite person in the house. “Aria did it for me!”

Roman sighs. Of course. 

“Dad, focus,” Lina snaps her fingers, bringing his attention back to the fact that two of his older kids are impatiently waiting for his sign off. “Can we—”

“Lina, ya’ll already know where I keep my wallet.” The same way these kids already know it’s rare he tells them no when it’s something they want to order. It’s just a habit, he guesses, probably at the recommendation of Solana, that they ask beforehand. 

Lina squeals and smiles, hopping off the table at the same Tama does, while fist bumping in the air. “Thank you, daddy.” A quick kiss to the cheek from her as Tama hits him on his arm, shouting out, “you the best, OTC!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Roman mutters, refocusing his attention on the real issue. His seven year-old wearing a full face of makeup. “Ro—”

“Daddy!”

Roman jumps and places his hand over his chest, eyes shutting. He doesn’t care what Solana says. 

These damn kids really are trying to kill him. 

Waiting for his heart rate to settle, Roman finally looks over at 1/8th cause of his consistent high blood pressure who currently has her arms wrapped around him from behind, looking at him from the side. “Yes, Aria?”

Her smile is wide as she breaks away and points over to her little sister who now has that damn cat sitting in the chair next to her. “What do you think of Roro’s makeup?”

“I think I told you about putting makeup on her, Samaria,” Roman reminds. “She’s too young for all that shit.”

Aria rolls her eyes as Aroha giggles, saying something along the lines of “daddy said a bad word.” He makes a mental note to buy her a doll or something for her silence. “Dad, I needed a muse, and she was there!”

“Aria, I’m not even gon’ pretend to know what that means.” He gave up a long time ago on trying to understand his most….dramatic of children. “Just don’t put any more makeup on your sister.”

Aria pouts, crossing her arms and scowling. “But, I need to practice! How else am I supposed to master my artistic craft?”

Roman rubs his temples. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Figure it out.” 

She gasps, smiling suddenly. “So, I can order the master course, then?”

At that, he frowns. “What?”

A loud squeal followed by another hug and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, daddy!” Roman remains confused, calling after her right as she darts out the room, running down the hall shouting, “wait for me! He said yes! I need the card!”

Roman leans back against his chair. 

Fuck a vaction. He just needs to run at this point. 

The sound of low purring reminds him that the issues never seem to disappear. “Roro, Nala can’t sit at the table with us. I told you this already.”

Aroha pouts, and Roman can swear that damn cat hisses at him. “But, she’s my baby.”

“I understand that, honey, but she’s not an actual baby….she’s a cat.”

A damn cat he didn’t even want in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there. Speaking of animals, it dawns on Roman that Coco and Max are far too quiet. They’re either getting into some shit or perhaps in the kitchen being fed by the boys. He prays for the latter versus the former. 

And then, the most dangerous combination as Aroha gives him that face with that voice. “Please, daddy?”

Right away, he knows he's done for. Resistance is futile.

“Fine,” he mutters, Aroha clapping happily and adjusting her tiara. 

Roman won’t admit it, but perhaps there is some hint of truth to what Solana and his older kids say from time to time. Maybe he does have some difficulty saying no to Roro. 

Just a little. 

Solana and Leya walk into the dining room, both with plates full of food in both hands. Naturally, Solana places Roman’s in front of him, along with his drink, a damn diet soda. Fucking dietary restrictions. “Here you go, mi amor.” 

The salivation returns as he takes in the plate full of some of his favorites. Steak, potatoes, candied yams, mixed vegetables, a bowl of fresh baked rolls that Leya places in the middle of the table and three hot, baked apple pies, the cherry on top. 

However, it’s when Solana sighs, hand on her hip that his attention is shifted. “What’s wrong?”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you get the boys? Leya and I called them before I text you, and they’re still not here. Max and Coco need to be fed, too.” Roman is already out of his seat, gently tapping his wife on the hip before she can even finish her request.

The minute he’s at the bottom of the steps, his deep voice rings out and travels far. “Koa, Kai.” There’s no mistaking he means business. “I know you heard your mom and sister calling you.” Because those two hear and see everything. “Ya’ll got five minutes to get your asses down here, or I swear to God, I’m gon’ clear your rooms of every piece of equipment ya’ll got up in there.”

Immediately, he’s met with the sound of grumbles and footsteps, his twins scowling at and continuing to mutter as they trek down the steps. “Fix your faces,” he reminds as they walk past him. Roman is uncaring. They know better than to ignore their mom like that. The kids may do a lot, get away with some things, but disrespecting Solana will always be where he draws the line. 

Period.

Roman doesn’t stop there, calling out, “Catalina, Tamasa, Samaria. Dinner table. Now.”

The Head of the Table—and his family—doesn’t bother waiting to make sure they follow suit. He just walks back into the dining room, seeing Leya place down the last plate of food as Solana reaches for her husband.

Stroking his beard, she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Roman nods, lightly tapping her ass as she walks over to the other seat at the end of the table. 

Her seat. 

Solana says something in Spanish to Roro, gesturing to Nala, a brief conversation that Roman is loosely tuned into until he catches a glimpse of Leya sitting down, phone in hand, smiling. She’s smiling at her phone. 

Or, rather, something on her phone. 

It makes him take pause. Roman knows that smile. It’s the same one Solana used to have with him, still does sometimes, when she felt bashful around him. But also happy. 

“Baby, who are you talking to?” He has to ask, cause who in the hell has his little girl smiling like that?

Leya looks up, smile shifting into her usual one. She shakes her head and locks her phone, placing it in her pocket. “Nobody, daddy.”

Roman pauses. 

That definitely wasn’t nobody.

But again, he’s distracted by the remainder of his kids, piling in almost all at almost once, Koa and Kai gaining a warning from Solana as they make a snide comment about a pouting Aroha, the seat next to her empty, revealing Solana made Nala leave. Clearly, the source of their teasing comment to his littlest. 

“No, Aria.” Lina’s voice sounds as she shoots down what was probably Aria’s request to borrow something of her big sister’s. A common thing. While they don’t get into it nearly as much as the Littles, they have their moments.

“This looks delicious, mama.” Tama rubs his hands together at the plate of food in front of him, licking his lips, moving one hand to his stomach. “I been waiting all day for this.”

Solana giggles, teasing, “didn’t you come and sample some not even an hour ago?”

“That was an hour ago,” he counters, shrugging. “I’m a growing boy. I need my food.”

“You need to grow into some money, so you can make good on your debt.”

Koa’s comment brings Roman’s attention to his oldest boy. “You still taking money from your brothers?”

Tama grumbles, “it’s not like they ain’t got it.”

And, as she sticks her fork into the steak, already cut up for her—probably by Leya—Aroha asks, “can I get a pony?”

Thankfully, Solana is already on it. “No, mija. You know daddy and I already talked with you about that. No more pets.”

Aroha scowls, making a “humph” sound as she points across the table to Koa and Kai. “Then why are they here?”

Roman closes his eyes as Kai angrily retorts, “better than being a brat.”

Aroha stands up in her seat, projecting loudly and defensively. “I’m not a brat!”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

Lina rolls her eyes, looking at Tama, mumbling, “there they go.”

“Enough.” Roman’s voice travels across the table, catching and maintaining the attention of all. “Aroha, don’t talk about your brothers like that, or you’re going to get your tablet taken away. Koa, Kai, ya’ll gon stop calling her names, or it’s gon be me and ya’ll.”

Lowered heads and muttered apologies from his youngest followed by Solana directing everyone to start eating, a bit of an unnecessary command given the way everyone quickly digs into their food and would have, regardless of her direction.

A rare, extremely rare, silence settling over the table and lasting a good, solid 45 seconds before Aria gasps. “Does anyone want to hear the pitch for my latest one woman play?”

“No.”

“Maybe a little later, sweetie.”

[magicalqueennightmare]

Trapped

John Walker x Reader

You're afraid of tight spaces. John now knows why

Mention of being buried alive.

Your relationship with John was a bit complicated to say the least? In Yelena’s words “Are you two going to fight or make out? I seriously get mixed signals every time you talk” he was a pain in the ass half of the time and the other half he had you teetering on the edge of having actual feelings for him. It was confusing as hell. 

You never actually hated John. Even when the entire world questioned him, you could honestly see both sides of the story. He’d done plenty of wrong but damn who hadn’t? Then he would do things like second guess you on something as simple as how much sugar you needed to put in your peach cobbler recipe and Alexei was all of a sudden having to take a frying pan out of your hand because you were about to swing it on the super soldier. 

You were never sure where you stood with John, so when Bucky told you that you were headed out with John to clear a base you felt your stomach flip. Just focus on the mission and do your job.

John’s broad shoulders were easy to follow as the two of you cleared each hall. He peered around one corner and before you could follow he had gripped your shoulders and was pulling both of you backwards into a supply closet. Your eyes widened when he shoved you in first pulling the door silently closed behind himself. The closet was tiny, cement on three walls with a metal door and the six foot two super soldier wasn’t helping it feel any less tiny.

You could feel your chest start to tighten. No, you could not do this. Not now, not in front of John. He leaned down, his mouth close to your ear “This place is a lot less abandoned than we thought. We may have to wait for backup” you shook your head quickly “I don’t know if I can” he raised an eyebrow and that was when he must have noticed the look on your face “What’s wrong?”

The sound of boots passing by made you both fall silent but as soon as they passed he raised both eyebrows. You sighed “Will we have to wait here?” he nodded “We can’t risk going further or going out” “John I can’t stay in this room. It’s too damn small” the realization hit him and he nodded slowly “You’re claustrophobic”

“I’m sorry” you whispered. He shook his head “It’s ok” he brought his com up to his ear and you heard a quick, whispered conversation between him and Bucky before he said “Copy that”

“Honey, we gotta stay here” you nodded quickly “Ok, I’ll be fine” you knew your eyes were wide, your breathing a bit erratic. He stepped back closer to the door, giving you as much room as he could with how big he was and how small the room was “Look at me darlin” you let your eyes find his and he smiled slightly “Match my breathing before you hyperventilate”

You nodded, raising your shaking hands and he stepped closer, putting your hands over his heart. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on” you followed his instructions and felt your breathing even out. You kept your eyes glued to his sky blue ones. “I’m sorry you got the claustrophobic former assassin. I got buried alive once. Bad experience”

He nodded, looking down at the space between the two of you then at you. You nodded that he could step closer. “You’re ok, nothing wrong with it. I’m glad I know so I can help you next time” you smiled “Thank you John” he raised one hand, tracing your face “Bucky, Ava and Yelena will be here within half an hour”

“So we’re stuck in here until then?” you asked, feeling your heart flip. He nodded, his hand dropping. “At least we’ll have time to adjust you to being in a tight space and hopefully you feel halfway safe with me” a small smirk played on his face as he teased you.

You shrugged “You may annoy me at times but I always know I’m safe with you” he grinned broadly, looking damn proud of himself “You feel safe with me?” you rolled your eyes “Don’t get big headed about it. I’m currently trying to ignore how the walls feel like they’re shrinking” 

He laughed quietly “They’re not, I promise. Want my shield to judge with?” you shook your head “No, I trust you on it”  “So, does this mean you don’t hate me?” he asked and your eyes flew up to his “I have never hated you. Gotten highly annoyed? Yes. Thought you made bad choices? Hell yes. Hated you? No”

A soft smile slipped onto his face “Good to know” “So you don’t hate me?” you asked and he shook his head “I could never hate you” “Good to know” you replied and he winked at you “Who knew getting trapped could be a good thing?” “Who said it was a good thing?” you asked and he shrugged “You’re breathing normal now. That’s good. We know we don’t hate each other, that’s really good”

You nodded and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek “Yeah, it is” 

A little while later your coms flared to life “Incoming” as the closet door opened and there stood Bucky and Ava. “Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded “Yes please” you stepped out the closet around John and Yelena shot you a smirk. You narrowed your eyes but she just grinned “Let’s get to evac so we can all get home” 

You ended up falling asleep on John’s shoulder once you were all in the jet on the way back to the tower. Ok. maybe getting trapped had been a good thing after all.

[danieyells]

UPCOMING CARD!!!

This is so fucking late because i did not pick up my meds yesterday and i got so mentally engaged in something that i did not even consider what time or day it was. TAKE YOUR MEDICATION KIDS. AND OLD MEN. LIKE ED. WHO IS IN THIS NEW CARD. ALSO THANK YOU ANON FOR REMINDING ME!!! orz

It skipped my mind until it was pointed out to me that Ren was skipped. Because my brain is skipping everything. There is no method to this release order. (That's a joke. Unless Ren comes within the next two releases it's probably rank or year order with the captains released in house order. Either way my joke about Jiro's card being released on Zenji's birthday gets ruined lol)

Character Card: Oneiric Trap(「夜毎語らう夢の罠」  "Nightly Dream Talk Trap") 'oneiric' means 'of or relating to dreams' in case I wasn't the only one who didn't recognize the word Skill: Philosophic Words(「哲学者の言葉」  "Philosopher's Words") Fully Awakened Skill: Eternal Love(「永遠の愛」  "Eternal Love" could also be 'Immortal Love'--you get the picture) Warding Card: Letter From The Professor(「教授からの手紙」  "Letter From The Professor")

Uuuuh i'm floundering for more to say haha. Sorry this one is so late--they're about to release their own preview!! I was gonna pick up my meds today/yesterday but i fell asleep and woke up after the pharmacy closed so. First thing in the morning then!! Sorry you don't care about that stuff hahaha

Gacha is gambling! Banners rerun! If you have the misfortune to know what a credit or debit card is unlike Ed and to have access to one or some other form of digital currency, please recognize how easy it is to overspend when you can't see the numbers in front of you. If you're going to spend on the gacha, please set limits for yourself and keep to them! If you find yourself struggling to keep yourself from spending, please try and seek help--gambling addiction is serious but it doesn't have to be forever!

My Japanese is not better when I haven't taken my meds I'll tell you that much. Most of the translation I give here is fine but still take it with a grain of salt. Localizers are paid professionals!

Ask yourself questions. Ask yourself why. Ask others why. Look at the world and the unknowns and consider them. Understand that sometimes something Just Is. Consider the meanings of things. Look beyond your feelings and into actual effects. Do research. Think critically. Or just let someone else do it for you I suppose. Ed doesn't even put his own socks on. What does that guy know.

Statkatakas.

I'm gonna finish the code I was messing with for the past four hours and hopefully this won't happen again on Monday haha. 👍🏾

[p-artsypants]

The forge wasn’t as familiar to Astrid as the armory was. Heck, even the carpenter’s shop was somewhat familiar, what with all the time she spent there delivering wood with her dad.

But the forge had more tools. Gobber was something of a packrat and had a hundred niche tools for just those special occasions.

He even had some spare canvas! She got to work measuring the cart, estimating how deep and how wide it needed to be. Then she took some scrap leather strips and laid it out in a grid that would support his weight and be comfortable.

All the while, she chatted with Hiccup.

He seemed distracted, not all that surprising by the sheer volume of foreign objects around him. She took the time to show him what she was doing and what she was using to do it.

Then came the tedious and pain staking task of riveting the intersections.

“Morning lad and lass!” Gobber greeted, arriving to begin work. “What sort of project are you two up to?”

She gestured to the ladder of leather she’d laid out. “I’m making a seat for him. My idea. He likes being able to have his legs out, but he found the wood surface kind of hard to sit on. Something about a tailbone injury.”

She glanced to Hiccup to see if he agreed with her fib, only to find him engrossed with a paintbrush.

“Tailbone injury, eh?” Gobber rubbed his chin. “I thought he didn’t have any feeling below the waist.”

“Uh, not much, he said. Th-there’s a chance he could walk, with enough strength, but it’s not often.”

There. She’d planted the seed for when he had legs in a few days. Just one day a month, her betrothed had the strength to stand and walk around. How brave! How noble!

She just hoped no one realized it was correlated to the moon.

Gobber helped her a little, and installed brackets on the cart for the seat to hook into. But then he had other work to do, and left her to it.

As they both worked, Gobber, true to his name, talked and talked, narrating his work, the latest gossip, even the weather forecast. It did good to fill the silence and hopefully stave off Hiccup’s boredom.

Though it didn’t look likely as when she glanced over to him, he seemed droopy. His eyes were half-lidded, and the fiddling with random tools had petered out.

“Looks good lass! Let’s test it, and then get some lunch!”

“Lunch?” She startled. Had they really been in here all morning?

“How about it, Hiccup?” She asked, approaching him. “Getting hungry?”

He very slowly turned his face to her and she could see his skin was very red. His eyes were gray and his lips were dry.

“Hiccup?” She asked more insistently.

She took his hand, which was warm to the touch and almost scaly with how dry it was.

Trying not to get spotted by Gobber, she reached her hand under the blanket to feel his tail. Some of the scales flaked off with just a gentle touch. He was dry! Really really dry!

“HICCUP!”

After a long training session, all Astrid wanted to do was cool off on the beach. Maybe a tiny swim, even though the ocean was so cold at this time of year. She pushed through the brush and staggered down to the shore.

Only to find a boy lounging in the shallows.

“Oh!” She dropped her axe in the sand. From his bare torso, she assumed he was naked. “Sorry! I didn’t know someone else would be…here…” as the apologies flowed, she realized from the waist down, he had green scales and a pair of fins.

No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“No way…” she inched closer. “A real mermaid! In the flesh! Are the stories true?” She stamped down her overwhelming curiosity for a moment to give him a stern point. “Don’t try anything fishy, mermaid. I’m very capable of protecting myself, got it?”

((I saw the prompt and went feral, hope you don’t mind))

[X]

Hiccup started, the water around him splashing as he sat up straight in surprise, before he moved a little further back, his cheeks flushed.

"No, sorry, I, I shouldn't--" Ducking his head, the merman awkwardly held up a hand, "Usually no one comes here..."

But his movements only caused his tail to briefly break the surface, emerald scales glittering in the sun for a moment before dipping below the water again.

Firmly, he responded, "Merman. I am a merman. And no, don't worry, I, I wasn't going to try anything...I know you'd probably kill me if I did..."

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair, which had partially dried in his time sitting in the shallow water. "What, what stories are you referring to?"

He knew, or at least had a gut feeling about what she was asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. She appeared wary, but not fearful. Maybe these humans didn't have the same fears of his kind like the others?

[dfroggofarson]

Helloo Dear Reader! Since exam period is crushing me I decided to post Chapter 2. today. Thank you for the likes and the reblog! I am looking forward to feeding on your support. - that's gonna be how I measure my worth, obviously.

Btw You can also find this on my Ao3 under the same username.

Have fun and a good day (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Cry, Baby

Chapter 2. - Some I-scream, sir?

"No, I’m telling you, Pompompurin is extremely cute!"

"Exatly! That’s why I’ve been telling you to get Pompompurin socks, like me!"

You wiggled your toes in the pink merch socks while the rest of your legs were still under the too-clean and too-white hospital sheets. It has been almost a week since you’ve had the luck of being hospitalized, and today was the day you finally got released. Yamaguchi came here every day just to be with you for these past six days, and even though you got him to go home early yesterday, he insisted on being with you today to help you with packing, and to treat you to ice cream as a reward for enduring hospitalozation and not dying. You told him you were perfectly fine now, but he was adamant.

"I’m not leaving you alone! What it another episode comes and you’re by yourself?" He asked, despite knowing you have nurses available 24/7 and your mom also came to check on you every day after work.

You were thankful you had a friend like him.

Now there you were, standing up slowly – as per your friend commanded you – while he held your right arm to help you balance yourself. "I can stand all right by myself, thank you," you remarked, to which Yamaguchi just snorted.

"I don't think so."

"I really can, but... alright." Your face warmed into a smile.

Your friend made sure you could actually stand on your two legs, and then went over to the other side of the bed to pick up your backpack your mom brought you a few days ago.

”So I packed your bag but look around, I might have forgotten something," Yamaguchi offered. You glanced around and shook your head. "I got your books, snacks, clothes, socks, and um… that sort of things…" Suddenly his face became all read and you had to take a moment to realize why.

"You didn’t pack my underwear, did you…?" You asked, mortified, now your face read also. He gulped. "I told you to leave my underwear alone! Were you secretly a pervert all this time or what?!"

"No, no, I’m sorry! I was just trying to help, and happened to grab them, too… It was an accident, I swear!"

"How can this be an accident?!" You exclaimed, both of your heads as red as an overripe tomato. "How can touching my underwear be an accident?!"

"Are you finished, kids? We have to get going."

Both of you turned to the door to see your slightly annoyed mom leaning into the door frame. If red had an even more intensive color than you two were wearing, now your faces would resemble that. You wanted to dig yourself a grave and lie in it without hesitation. Yamaguchi’s face told the same tale.

"Come on, Yamaguchi-kun, get Yori’s bag," she ordered, and the poor boy flinched. He grabbed your bag and scurried out of the room as quick as possible. "Let’s go, Yori."

"Yes, mom," you replied.

"And teach that boy some manners while you’re at it! I don’t want grandkids until you’ve both finished college."

"Mom!" you cried, burying your face into your shirt.

"I’m so sorry, Ms. Shidou, I really didn’t mean it…" you heard Yamaguchi whine while waiting for you in the corridor. You caught up to him while letting your mom take the lead.

She got you checked out of the hospital, and took you to the gray Toyota that was parked outside the hospital. All three of you got in the car and remained silent. It was your mother who broke it first.

"How are you feeling, Yori?"

"Better, thanks. I am as healthy as an ox!" You said smiling, and you didn’t lie.

It was just that you had a weird feeling in your stomach you did not know the reason of. But hopefully it was not another warning for a second seizure to come.

"The doctor told me about this new experimental medicine," she continued. "I could have you enter a program, he already made a spot for you. Most of it would be covered by the hospital. He also said it’s much better than the last one, it’s showing great progress with little side effects. I think we should to it."

Your smile weakened. Another experimental program? The last and only one you were willing to participate in ended with night vomiting, serious headaches and early signs of depression. Although it made the number of your seizures deplete, it was not worth it. You would have stopped after the second dose, had your mom not pushed you through all the way to the sixth.

You had no choice but to go with her decision, but maybe you could get her to drop these trial drugs.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea… The last one I took only made it worse," you mentioned carefully.

"Yes, but it’s different now. I looked at the numbers, almost seems to be too good to be true, but apparently it is."

You highly doubted that.

"What do you think, Yamaguchi-kun? Don’t you think it would be good to end these hospital visits and get these seizures out of Yori?"

Yamaguchi looked to the other side. You absolutely hated when she did that. Trying to get a manipulated opinion out of your best friend to support her cause.

"Well, it’s not really my place to say, but… I think Yoriko-chan should be the one to decide. As far as I have heard the last time it didn’t go that well…"

"Is that so? Hmm, I suppose you’re right…" she gave the impression of thinking about it, but you knew very well she had already made up her mind.

You just despised these situations.

The car turned to the left, and you were now in the city center of Shibuya.

"Mom, you remember I told you how we wanted to grab some ice cream with Yama-kun? To celebrate my release?" you said quickly. Anything to get out of this. "Would you please drop us off somewhere near? I’ll meet you at home in a few hours, I promise I won’t be late!"

"Oh, right. Let me take a right, I can pull aside there."

She turned to the right and stopped the car. "All right, you two be careful. If anything happens, call me and I’ll get you," she said, but you knew you would never do that unless it really was an emergency. "Yamaguchi-kun, keep an eye on my daughter – but not a too close one."

Yamaguchi nodded his head up and down frantically, and promised to do so. You bid your farewells to your mother, and got out of the car. You watched as she drove away, and when the Toyota was out of sight, you let out a sigh so large Yamaguchi almost jumped.

"I just hate it when she picks on you, I’m sorry," you said, but he just waved it off.

"I know what she’s like, I sensed something was coming our way," he admitted, to which you grimaced. "But really, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe they’ll go away, like three years ago, and then they won’t come back."

"Even if that were to happen, I doubt she’ll let go easily. Maybe if nothing happens for a few months. I’ll just need her to drop this topic."

You two walked silently towards the ice cream shop you knew well. That strange sensation in your stomach did not seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The grimace on your face only shifted also. And Yamaguchi was quick to notice it.

"Are you okay? Does something hurt?" he asked worriedly. You shook your head.

"No, it’s just… this seizure was somehow… different."

"Different?"

"I can’t really put it into words, but there is a strange sensation in my stomach telling me something’s wrong," you admitted. Strangers passed by while you were walking slowly. "And… I had this weird dream while I was sleeping… there was this... thing that had four arms and four eyes."

"Wow, okay, your dreams are mostly horrific or undecodable, but this sounds different," Yamaguchi said, looking on the pavement.

"Yeah. And also there was some kind of word I heard while looking at it. It was Ryoumen, it means double-faced, I think."

You heard someone tripping over their feet behind you, and you quickly turned to see a white haired man collect himself casually. He wore rounded sunglasses. You quickly turned to him.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked as Yamaguchi approached him as well.

"Of course, of course!" He replied, probably with the most unworried tone you have ever heard in your life. You had no idea what he was on but you would gladly accept some of that. "Sorry to bother you, I just accidentally overheard you talk about a dream you had, and I happen to be a big fan of strange dreams! Would you care to talk about it more?" He smiled friendly, and you started to have a fishy feeling about him, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. But you were so taken aback by his question that you automatically replied to him.

"Sure, uhh… So there was a four-armed thing, maybe a guy… and I heard this Ryomen…"

"He had four eyes, right? What colour were they?" He asked, face still lit up for whatever was so interesting in your random dream.

"Uhh, blue, why?"

"Oh, blue, I see! You know, there is actually a study that showed that less japanese people see blue-eyes in their dreams, so I guess that makes that dream extra special!"

"I… see?" You were seriously weirded out right now, and you could sense Yamaguchi had the same feeling.

"Also, did he by chance have black marks across his body?"

Something was wrong.

"Yes."

You could not see the stranger’s eyes, but you swore to God something changed in his expression. The next moment it was gone, like nothing happened.

"Are you in a hurry now? If it’s not inconvenient for you, would you care to join me for a coffee to talk about this dream more?" He asked, and all alarms went off in your head. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong!, your gut told you.

"Please excuse us, but actually we are in a hurry," said Yamaguchi, grabbing your arm and starting to pull you in the opposite direction he was originally going in.

"Yes, but it was very interesting, thank you for the talk," you said, hoping to God he wouldn’t follow you. Maybe it would be a good idea to call your mother, she couldn’t have gone that far…

"Ah, forgive me for taking your time, then. But please take my contact info, if anything pops into your mind or have another dream like that, please contact me!"

You quickly took the card uttering one last "goodbye" – heaven knows why – and let Yamaguchi practically drag you away from the scene. You glanced at the stranger’s direction – but he was gone! It was like he wanshed into thin air. The hairs on your neck stood up. Run, your brain told you, and you made haste right away. You and Yamaguchi only stopped when you were several blocks and streets away.

"Oh my god, I thought he was going to kill me or something," you panted, heart still in your throat, and Yamaguchi nodded heavily.

"He’s totally a serial killer. Oh my god, he must be a serial killer, I am so glad we’re alive."

"Me too. Shit that was weird," you muttered, still terrified of the aura that man was carrying. What was his business?! You just couldn’t figure it out.

"Maybe he wanted to kidnap you, you’re a pretty schoolgirl after all.”

"Let’s just… not think about that againand forget it, okay? Shit. Thanks for dragging me away, I thought I was gonna throw up and get killed on the spot," you said, eyes wide, while both of you leaned onto a wall. "I do not want to die by the hands of a random stranger."

"What if we didn’t talk about death at all?" He interjected. "I don’t want to die, I’m too young to die. No death for me, please."

"And no ice cream too, I really think I’m gonna throw up…" You barfed, trying to hold it in. Your stomach was stirred to the point where you really thought you were going to vomit. Thank you, stress.

In the end, you managed to hold back, but you didn’t have the nerve to get going just yet. Both of you just leaned to the wall and stared out of your head.

What was that man’s business? Was he really some sort of dream-scientist or whatever? He didn’t seem to be bad at first glance, he was maybe even handsome and friendly. But the questions he posed and the way he did… Every single nerve in your body told you to run, that something is wrong and just go.

You looked at your hand, his card still in your palm, although a bit crumpled. You waned to throw it away immediately, but… something told you to keep it. You were still a bit trembling, so without thinking, you put it in the back pocket of your trousers and forgot about it as quickly as you could. You would throw it out later.

The two of you remained here for what seemed to be half an hour, until you could calm your heart and breathing. Only ten minutes passed by the time you got going, and none of you spoke about getting ice cream that day again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, you said goodbye to Yamaguchi. You could still see how his hands were shaking, and you could relate to him quite much on this matter. He made sure to get you home safely, walked you to your front door and watched you go inside before he turned to go home as well. Thankfully, he only lived a few streets away from you, and just three minutes after he dropped you off you got a message from him telling you that he’s home, too. You let out a sigh of relief and went straight to your room after saying hi to your mom. She did try to ask why were you so early, but you just said that you remembered you have a test on Monday and you and Yamamguchi had to study for that.

Once you got upstairs, you changed to your pajamas and plopped on your bed to watch anime, or anything, to get your mind off of that strange encounter. You started the first anime that came to your screen and watched mindlessly. It seemed to work, and because Yamaguchi didn’t text you you assumed he was doing the same.

A few hours later you had dinner with your mom, and although she was not a bad cook, you just couldn’t get yourself to eat with joy. You dodn’t have an appetite, but if you had let her know that, she would have tried to ask questions that you really didn’t want to answer.

When you were winished with washing the dishes, your mind was somewhat at ease. You went to the bathroom to get ready to sleep. You said goodnight to your mom, walked to your room, and tucked yourself in. Sleep didn’t come that easily – but when it did, you wished you never closed your eyes in the first place.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Be My Shield (Liam Mairi x OC)

Summary: She did not expect to find an ally while waiting to cross the parapet, but she easily accepted his protection…and then offered her own.

This is my submission for @empyreanevents Liam Week- Day 2: Protective. Also this is my first time writing for Fourth Wing and Liam so i hope you like it! I read 'protective' and this is what my brain immediately thought of.

Quick note- in this fic, Liam and Bodhi are the same age and entering the Rider's Quadrant together, which makes Xaden a second year.

Warnings: violence, minor character death (its parapet, y'all)

Words: 5k

The morning dragged by, the burning sun inching across the sky like an archaic form of torture to weed out the weak and unworthy. 

Unfortunately, it seemed to be working. 

Leyla peeked over the edge of the stone stairs, careful of the lack of railing and the chance of plummeting the two hundred plus steps to the hard ground below. She glanced down at the other foolish recruits standing idly in the long line of those waiting to cross the parapet and hopefully join the Rider's Quadrant. More than once, as the morning transitioned into midday, cries from recruits signaled another potential had fainted as they waited, the unexplainable heatwave taking its toll. 

“Can they move any fucking faster? It's fucking hot out here.” 

Staring at the stone steps beneath her feet, she allowed the eyeroll at the whining of the man-child standing in front of her. Zinhal was certainly punishing her for her lack of temple worship if he stuck her behind this asshat. 

“I bet it's those marked ones. I saw a couple ahead of us.” The one in front of the man-child spoke without heed of his loud volume. “Fucking separtists’ kids.”

Biting the inside of her cheek was the only physical indicator of her annoyance Leyla allowed to manifest. Even after all these years, her mother's training of keeping her emotions to herself still wrapped around her like a muzzle. 

“Ha! They're all cowards anyway. I'd bet they see the parapet and freeze, too fucking scared to walk it.” The man-child wiped sweat from his brow and his close-cropped hair.  

The line up the stairs moved forward two steps then stopped again. 

“Maybe I'll help encourage them along.” He chuckled darkly. “They're not technically cadets until they cross the threshold, right?”

“Nothing stopping them from encouraging you to see Malek then.” She muttered, wondering if her eyes would be permanently stuck in the back of her head from rolling them so much at this idiot's statements. 

Could he not see the massive target his haughty statements slapped onto his back? Even if most of the Narravians disliked the marked ones for what their parents did, that did not mean those same marked ones would not protect their own. And in a place like this…where murder was basically encouraged…she doubted he would live long if he kept talking like that. 

The sudden snort-laugh behind her made her eyes widen and her stomach drop as she realized someone overheard her snarky comment.  

The realization solidified when the man-child turned around to stare down at her, a thick jaw clenched reminding her of her old neighbor's bulldog. “Did you say someth–” His words cut off, anger draining away as he finally acknowledged the person standing behind him. In the span of two heartbeats, his entire demeanor predictably shifted. A sleazy smirk drew up one side of his mouth and his dark eyes scanned her body like it was a treat up for auction at the market. 

Leyla wisely kept the eyeroll internal this time, yet stiffened her spine at his unwanted attention. Unfortunately she was stuck, unable to escape as they stood high up on the stone stairs, almost to the crowded, open doorway of the turret. Man-child stood in front of her, looming taller as he stood above her, even though she guessed he was only several inches taller than her own average height, but it was his barrel chest and bulky form that reinforced her prior observation of a bulldog. Behind her stood a tall and very attractive blond, that she had briefly said ‘hi’ to when they first stood in line but she kept her focus on her feet, trying to keep her fears and doubts from strangling her. The only other way to escape man-child was to jump from the stairs and that was the last thing she was willing to do. Some asshole with the intelligence of a cracked walnut was not about to influence her future. 

He placed a hand on the stone wall between them, bicep flexing against his short sleeve shirt. “Hey, beautiful.”

She stared over his shoulder, her jade green eyes focused on the turret. 

“Are you Loial in the flesh because I think I might be falling in love?”

“The line moved.” She deadpanned, still refusing to look at him. 

He peered over his shoulder and sure enough, the line had taken two more steps upward while he was distracted. Of course, once he moved up, he turned back to continue his barrage. 

“What's your name, beautiful?”

“No.” 

“No?”

Ignoring him, she tucked her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear, allowing a moment to mourn her real hair. It was foolish of her to think cutting and dyeing her hair would repel unwanted attention. Stupid genetics. 

“Ohhh…is this one of those ‘you're not worthy to learn my name yet’ things? That's fine. It just makes the victory all the sweeter.” He nudged his companion standing in front of him in line. “Hey, Rus.”

“What is it–Oh fuck.” Rus said once he looked around his companion and noticed her, his blue eyes trailing over her with the subtlety of war horn. 

If their attention was not so wholeheartedly predictable and aggravating, she would have laughed. She had been standing behind them for hours and they just now noticed her. She knew those around her were twenty years old but gods, she had hoped for some sense of maturity from those wanting to protect their kingdom. 

“She won't tell me her name.” Man-child said, his dark gaze trained back on her. 

“Aw, come on, baby. You need allies in a place like this.” The other- Rus- smiled winsomely. “And I promise, Iver and I would be beneficial allies.”

“Yeah, we'd look out for you.” Iver reached out, trying to touch her shoulder. “You know…mutually beneficial.”

Leaning back, she twisted her body before he could make contact, ignoring how it brought her closer to the tall man behind her. “Don't touch me.” She flatly stated, even as annoyance burned away inside her to unearth anger. 

Iver blinked before chuckling in a way that was anything but humorous or friendly. “Don't be like that. We're just being friendly. A beautiful girl like you needs someone to protect her, who knows what might happen if she's all alone.” 

Leyla tried to suppress the shudder slinking down her spine. How was she already making enemies when she had not even crossed the parapet yet? She was supposed to keep her head down, blend in as much as possible and survive. 

“The line moved, asshole.” A deep, soothing voice spoke from directly behind her. 

Iver glared at the man behind her before turning and taking the eight steps along with his friend to the top of the stairs, bringing them directly to the turret's open door. 

“Are you alright?”

She turned to look at the man behind her. “Yeah.” She replied, selfishly allowing herself a moment to appreciate how handsome he was, especially under the midday sun. His blond hair shone, tousled with longer strands swept over his forehead. Even with her standing two steps above him, he still managed to be taller than her. Broad shoulders, an obviously muscular body that his short sleeve tunic could not fully mask, and toned arms, she wondered if Loial had a hand in creating him, especially with his sharp jaw, plush lips and bright blue eyes that stared at her like her answer was the most important thing in this moment. 

“Do you want to switch places with me?” He questioned, his soothing voice a caress to her ears. 

She hesitated, the word ‘yes’ on the tip of her tongue before she shoved it back down. How was she going to survive the Rider's Quadrant if she could not even handle a couple of assholes, let alone dragons? No, she needed to be strong…even if she felt anything but strong or prepared for what lay ahead. 

“It's fine. Thank you.” She took the first step upward before throwing back over her shoulder. “Unless he starts farting, then I'll definitely switch. He looks like he would smell like death.”

The blond behind her snickered as he followed her up. “Write that on my tombstone. It wasn't the parapet or dragons that killed me. It was a deadly fart.”

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she stifled the laugh that erupted at his blasé comment. She stopped at the top step, one down from the top of the turret, and turned back to the blond. Something fluttered in her belly at the genuine smile and sparkle in his eyes. “I'd never allow your reputation that disgrace. It'd be shameful. I'll come up with something more interesting.”

“What’s more interesting than death by fart?”

“Well, obviously, you wanted to make a reputation for yourself before you even crossed the parapet….it's just a damn shame that you decided to try and cross the parapet by walking on your hands the whole way. I mean, it would be very impressive if you succeeded but alas…” she sighed dramatically and shook her head in faux melancholy, “Malek found you amusing and stole you away. A real tragedy.”

She fully faced him as she spoke, giving herself front row seats as his smile grew, revealing dimples in both cheeks and she had to remind herself not to swoon. Loial definitely had a strong opinion when he was created. She lazily wondered if he was blessed by the goddess of love also or just a recipient of her favor in genetics. 

“That's the story we're going with?” He asked, mirroring her pose. 

“Unless you can think of something better?”

“No, I think that'll work.”

She opened her mouth to reply when a hand on her shoulder whipped her around roughly, making her almost lose her balance on the slick stairs and tumble off if the blond behind her had not latched his hands onto her waist to steady her. 

“Stop fucking ignoring me. You're too pretty to die this soon.” Iver stated, his eyes drifted down to the pair of hands on her body. His eyes widened for a brief moment before they narrowed into slits, directed at the man behind her. “A marked one. Makes fucking sense. You know what, beautiful, I wouldn't touch you since you let those dogs put their hands on you. I bet you fucking moan when they rut into you.”

“Shut the fuck up before I make you.” The blond snarled, his grip tightening on her as if that alone prevented him from lunging at the asshole in front of them. 

“Hey! The line moved! Fight on the other side!” Someone from further down the stairs yelled out. 

Iver turned around but not before sneering at her like she was shit beneath his boots.

Once he moved forward, Leyla started to take the final step up but the hands still on her waist remained, preventing her from moving. She looked up, above her shoulder to meet his furious gaze. 

“We're switching spots.” He demanded quietly. 

“Okay.” She breathed out, desperate to mask the tremor in her voice.  

Gently and carefully, he moved around her, keeping her body against the stone wall and purposefully putting himself towards the open air and the long fall down to the ground. It was as he switched with her that she finally took note of his rebellion relic. The mark traveled from his wrist and up his arm, the rest hidden by his tunic. The swirls and sharp lines stunning in their design but laced with the despair of what it represented. 

She had never met a marked one before, tucked away in the country like she had been. Of course, she had heard the stories surrounding the Rebellion and what had happened to the leaders’ children but…she was the last person to blame children for the sins of their parents. 

Leyla might not have a mark on her arm but she felt marked all the same. 

“He shouldn’t have said that about you.” 

She shrugged, gazing out over the expansive fields surrounding Basgiath. “That’s not the first time someone has tried to insult me. I’m sorry too. About what he implied about marked ones. I don’t think that.”

“I know.”

She turned her face to look up at him upon hearing his smug tone. 

Those dimples made a reappearance as he leaned down to whisper. “You wouldn’t have been checking me out earlier if you thought that.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled, heat warming her cheeks to an embarrassing degree. 

Luckily the line moved once more and she was momentarily saved from her embarrassment. The turret’s top was open to the air, allowing an unobstructed view of the ravine and river on the other side…and the two hundred foot drop from the stone parapet. 

Observations of the turret’s stonework or the three riders standing at the entrance to the parapet suddenly vanished from her mind as she stared at the long stone trail, only eighteen inches in width, that she was expected to cross to join the Rider’s Quadrant, or fall to her death. Success or failure. 

Gods, what was she thinking? This was a terrible idea, the absolute worst. Fear bloomed within her chest, tendrils slipping out to prick her with thorns, constricting her heart. A nauseating wave of understanding doused her in its icy chill. She had heard rumors and stories of what the Quadrant entailed, of the death tolls, the violence and terror it caused. It was not until this moment she truly believed it. And now she was going to voluntarily try to join. 

How could she do this? If anyone found out…. But what else could she do? This was her best chance to survive…or not. Either way, at least she tried. At least she could say she did not give up. 

“Name?” One of the three riders waiting by the entrance, which just looked like a gaping hole in the stonework, asked in a clearly bored tone. 

“Liam Mairi.” The blond stated confidently to the roll-keeper.

Anxiety and fear danced a tango in her belly as she watched him move forward to stand at the entrance, waiting for the signal to take his turn and prove he deserved to be a cadet. Two other riders loitered around, barely shifted their posture, but she could tell they were talking to him…to Liam. Staring at them, she belatedly took notice of the winding rebellion relics on their own arms. Two more marked ones, but ones that were riders already. A hint of something, perhaps gratitude, coiled in her belly in knowledge that there were others like Liam already in the Quadrant, he would not be alone. 

Unlike her. 

But she had to remain so to survive. 

“I said ‘name’, girl, or are you deaf?” The roll-keeper snapped. 

“Sorry,” she immediately apologized, ducking her head, “it's…ah, Leyla Rivers.”

The rider wrote down her name, barely sparing her a glance as he covered a yawn and gestured her forward. Taking a step, moving behind Liam, she wondered how embarrassing it would be if she vomited right then. Would they make her clean it up? Would they laugh and throw her off the parapet? The rolling of her stomach was about to make a decision for her when a gentle touch startled her. A large, warm hand wrapped around her own shaking one and squeezed. 

“Hey.”

Daring to be brave, she looked up and was greeted by those bright, blue eyes again. 

“I'll see you on the other side.” He said in that soothing tone, imbued with confidence. 

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, a poor attempt to soak in his reassurance and smiled softly, not wanting his last memory of her to be surrounded in panic, not that it really mattered if he remembered her. “No walking on your hands.” She teased. 

He chuckled. “I'll try my best.”

“Then neither of us have to worry about meeting Malek today.”

“Liam, stop flirting with the pretty girl and get going.” One of the marked ones by the entrance drolled, but with a familiar undertone to the remark.

Liam winked at her and squeezed her hand once more before releasing it. “Ignore Garrick, he’s always been upset that I'm obviously more handsome than him.” 

“For fuck’s sake.” The marked one that was as wide as a barn door and with huge muscles for days groaned, rolling his eyes. “Xaden, if I push him off–”

“You know he’d float with all the hot air in his big head.” The taller marked one with dark onyx eyes lazily said but smiled for a brief moment, turning his dark, broody aura into something warm before killing it once again. 

“Hilarious, the both of you.” Liam snarked back. Placing his hands on either side of the entrance, he froze for a moment, meeting intense onyx eyes and sharing a brief nod before stepping out onto the parapet and the open air surrounding it. 

Chilling anxiety and crippling nerves gripped her with an iron fist. She watched with bated breath as Liam casually walked across the stone parapet like it was a leisurely stroll, arms by his side and an dauntless swagger to his gait that would have been distracting if she was not terrified for his safety. 

Once Liam made it to the quarter mark, the marked one- Garrick- she thought, finally spoke to her. “Step up.” 

Wordlessly she followed the order, her gaze only drifting briefly to the massive second year and the one with onyx eyes. She startled at seeing those scrutinizing onyx eyes staring at her, gazing at her in a way that felt assessing, like he was trying to read her secrets. He was truly gorgeous with dark hair, tawny skin and a sharp jawline but something about him unnerved her and she quickly darted her gaze away, focusing on watching Liam continue to cross. 

It was when Liam was almost to the halfway mark that Zinhal decided to show his fickle hand. 

“Go.” She heard from beside her, shoving down the rising terror and taking that first uneven step onto the parapet. 

Yet when she looked back up, her heart leapt into her throat. 

Liam was warily taking steps back, dodging powerful swings from Iver who had gone before him but clearly turned back. 

As if on their own accord, her feet slowly moved forward, her own terror forgotten on the turret as her gaze refused to abandon the sight of the fight happening. She knew hardly anything about fighting, her training was more focused on being a lady, but she could tell Liam remained defensive, only blocking yet giving ground with each step. 

Everything changed in a split second. 

Iver overswung, losing his balance on the narrow stone walkway. Liam blocked the swing towards his side. Instinctually, Iver gripped onto Liam’s arm as if that would steady himself, like a drowning man clambering over another to try and stay above the deadly waters. 

Gravity, and Zihnal, chose otherwise. 

They both started to topple over the side, a petrifying shriek yanked from Iver's throat as he grasped at the taller blond. 

WIthout thinking, Leyla raced along the parapet, ignoring the two hundred foot drop on either side of her, outrunning the terror previously eating away at her. 

With a pained shout, Liam slammed onto the parapet, arms blindly reaching across to grip onto the narrow stonework as his legs and torso dangled freely over the ravine. Iver clung to Liam’s waist like a parasite, loudly cursing and screaming to be pulled up. 

Liam’s head shot up, mouth in a grimace, as his gaze locked on hers when she slid next to him on her knees. “No, it's too–”

“Don't let go!” She demanded, locking her arms around his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his temple, desperately hoping it would keep him from falling. 

“Wasn't planning on it.”

“PULL ME UP! FUCKING PULL ME UP!” 

Leyla lifted her head just enough to meet Iver's wide, panicked eyes. 

“DON'T JUST FUCKING SIT THERE! HELP US THE FUCK UP!” 

She dropped her forehead back to Liam's temple, her lips brushing against his ear. “Can you do it? Pull yourself up?”

“Just my weight…fuck!...not his too.” He grunted with eyes closed, the strain of hanging on evident. 

Realization settled on her like a boulder dropped onto her back. She knew the Rider's Quadrant was hard, that it was ruthless and death would be the shadow that followed all cadets…she just had not expected to taste its darkness so soon. 

“Fuck!” Liam shouted, torso jostling as he quickly readjusted his hold on the uneven stones. “Princess, let go. I can't– you need to let go.”

“No! Hold on…just don't give up yet, sunshine!” She commanded, mind scrambling on how to help. A renewed sense of panic bloomed in her chest but she valiantly tried to ignore it, logic warring with everything she had been taught all her life. 

Under the bright afternoon sun, a thin shadow wrapped around her wrist and fiercely tugged. At any other time, she would have gaped and screamed but with the adrenaline and mind-numbing panic coursing through her, her mouth remained sealed shut. Her gaze followed as the shadow guided her hand across Liam's back to his ribs, nudging her as it spread across a hard line. Acting on instinct, her hand wrapped around something hard, but it was not until she tugged it out that she recognized what it was. A slim dagger. 

Oh gods.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, BITCH?” 

She only allowed herself one heartbeat, one brief second before she changed her world forever. Or maybe once she stepped foot in the line to join the Rider's Quadrant, that alone set things into motion. She gave into the growing horror for the span of a breath then forcibly locked it away in her mind. 

Gritting her teeth, she leaned over Liam's back and stabbed one of the parasitic hands wrapped around his waist. 

A scream ruptured the air around them but she tried to pretend it was only a bird of prey's cry. Not because of her. Not because of what she was doing. 

So, she stabbed again. 

Just a bird’s cry. The wetness on her hands was only rain drops. Don’t focus. Just act. Don’t…

Oh gods. 

Making sure to avoid Liam, she solely focused on Iver's hands and wrists, stabbing one more time. 

With a pain-fueled wail, those bloodied hands released…

…and Iver dropped, screaming all the way to the rushing river below. 

“Shit.” She gasped, sitting back on her knees, bile coating the back of her throat. Blood splattered across her hand, still painfully gripping the handle of the dagger. 

“Princess?” 

“Can you–can you get up?” She sputtered, tremors racking her body at the knowledge of what she had just done. 

Liam nodded, back and arms flexing. “I think so…back up.”

She scooted back on her butt a little but refused to move more, terrified she would fall off with how badly she was shaking. 

Carefully he pulled himself up until his torso was over the parapet and then turned like one would to get out of a pool. It was not until he was balanced precariously on his knees facing her that she let out the breath clogging her lungs. 

“Are you hurt?” Those blue eyes scanned over her, the edge of fear still coloring his tone. 

She shook her head, throat tight like the very air was trying to suffocate her.  

“Come on, let's go.” 

“I can’t…” She whispered, terror and horror breaking through her mental box, freezing her limbs to the stone beneath her. Malek…she killed someone. 

“Hey, look at me.” He reached out, cupping her cheek as he forced her gaze to hold his. “I won’t let you fall, okay? We can do this.” 

Then he dropped his hand from her cheek and grabbed her clenched fist in front of her. Slowly he opened it, slipping his fingers into the empty space between hers. With a fleeting smile, he squeezed her hand before rising. 

Following his actions, she rose too. 

Above the horror and terror. 

Above the raging river that would claim dozens of bodies this day. 

She shoved it all aside and willed herself to survive. 

Still holding hands, they began to walk towards the other side, that distant entrance to the Rider’s Quadrant. She could feel her hand shaking in his, which only seemed to make him tighten his grip on her. She kept her eyes on his broad back, refusing to look down. The sun burned down upon her face but she welcomed the sting, anything to dilute the writhing emotions swirling in her body and mind like poisonous snakes. 

As they approached and then crossed the threshold to the Quadrant, those poisonous emotions slithered to the back of her mind, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. 

“Well that was fucking dramatic.” The woman standing just on the inside with a scroll and pen stated flatly, making a rider standing next to her laugh. “Names?”

“Liam Mairi.”

The rider nodded and then pointedly eyed her. “And yours?”

“Leyla Rivers.”

“Find a spot to sit until formation. Welcome to the Rider's Quadrant, cadets.”

“You two are off to a good start.” The companion chuckled, nudging the roll-keeper. 

Without sparing them a second glance, Leyla silently followed Liam, allowing him to draw her further into the Quadrant. Almost as soon as they passed the roll keeper, Liam was bodily dragged into a fierce hug. He released her hand, slapping his companion happily on the back. 

“Took you long enough. I almost came out to get your ass, but they wouldn't let me back onto the parapet.” The dark-haired companion with a matching rebellion relic on his arm said, after smacking Liam one more time on the back. “You don't have to be such a show-off.”

Liam chuckled, taking a step back and returning to Leyla’s side. “I had to make it interesting. You practically skipped across it.”

“Well, Xaden told me if I did something stupid like fall, he'd wring my neck…can't imagine what he's going to do to you.”

“Oh fuck.”

The dark-haired companion chuckled. “Lucky for you, you had a gods-sent savior.” He finally looked at her, a smile growing on his face. “Thank you for saving his ass.”

“I'd say ‘anytime’ but I really don't want to do that again.” She softly murmured. 

He laughed, tawny skin catching the sunlight, before jerking his head towards where the crowd of cadets loitered. “Come on, let's find somewhere to wait.”

She paused as the two started to walk away, unsure if she was meant to follow them. When a large, warm hand wrapped around hers, tugging her along, she easily relented. 

The three of them secured a spot against one of the outer walls, dropping to sit on the dirt floor. She found herself sandwiched between the two taller men, but instead of fear, comfort skated down her nerves, even though she could sense the bone-deep horror and tremors only a heartbeat away. Right now, she tried to ignore it. To revel in the reality that she made it, she was a cadet! Amongst the sea of strangers and danger ahead, she relaxed into the cove of momentary peace her companions’ surrounding presence offered, soaking it in like parched ground. 

“Shit, you've got blood on you.”

Leyla startled as Liam gently grasped her hand, sliding the dagger from her palm. In the mental chaos of crossing the parapet, she had not noticed the dagger still in her grip. “Oh.”

“Are you hurt?” He asked, wiping off the blood on the bottom of his pants before sliding the dagger back into its sheath against his ribs. 

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” 

“I'll be fine.” 

To her shock, he lifted the hem of his dark tunic and used it to clean the drying splatters of blood off her hand. She caught a glimpse of a firm core and the faint outline of abs before she quickly darted her gaze back up to his face, hoping what brief flash of heat she felt did not transfer to her cheeks. Now was certainly not the time to be ogling him. 

Then something hit her. “Wait…did you call me ‘princess’ back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her heart raced at the potential implications of his answer. 

He leaned back against the wall, lips curled upward in a smirk that drew out a dimple in his cheek. “Well, you were quite demanding, telling me to hold on. I figured ‘princess’ fit.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “I'm fairly certain you called me ‘sunshine’ right back.”

What building tension whooshing out of her so quickly, she felt momentarily lightheaded. It was just a silly nickname. He did not mean anything by it. 

She ignored his latter comment, not about to reveal how struck she was by him at their initial meeting and how his warmth and their lighthearted humor reminded her of sunshine. “Well, I didn't feel like working on your tombstone today so I told you to hold on and Malek to fuck off.”

That drew a startled laugh from the men on either side of her and a responding, weak smile grew on her lips. 

“I think you'll be fun to have around.” The dark-haired man chuckled, then held out a hand in front of her. “Bodhi Durran.”

She took it, giving it a quick shake before wrapping her arms around herself again. “Leyla Rivers.”

“Who else made it across?” Liam asked in a hushed tone. 

Leyla zoned out as the two quietly spoke over her. Gods, she hoped she made the right choice. What was this place going to do to her? How was it going to change her? She had not even fully entered into the Quadrant and she had already murdered someone! The reminder made her breath hitch in her throat and horror clawed its way towards her lungs. She could not do this. She had literal blood on her hands. Someone died because of her. The back of her throat tasted of bile once again and she wondered if she had enough time to sprint for somewhere seclusive before vomiting. 

Before she could spiral further, a warm hand covered hers, tugging her into a broad chest. Without thinking, she leaned against Liam, absorbing his comfort and warmth. Taking slow breaths, she waited for the swelling nausea to subside, for the faint trembling of her hands to dissipate. 

She desperately hoped she had not made a mistake. She had heard it sworn once that those that attempted the Rider's Quadrant either came out on the back of a dragon or dead…but she silently rationalized to herself that either was a better option to the alternative. 

At least HE could not find her here. 

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

Yes, this is feels like the first chapter of a series. My brain can't stop thinking about Liam & Leyla so we'll see if I continue and ignore all my other WIPs.

[lovejongseob]

Jongseob's firsts

All sfw except for the very last paragraph.

First love:

Jongseob is shy, and he wouldn't approach you first. Watches you from afar, but with a heavy heart. He's analyzing everything you do, and falling deeper and deeper in love with every detail. Unfortunately, he lets his mind run until he finds things to be anxious about, and reasons you couldn't like him back.

First date:

A good example of Jongseob getting nervous over small things, you would have to take the initiative and ask him out. He spent way too long figuring out what to wear, what to say, how to act, he ended up a little awkward at first. He's comfortable by the end of the night though, and wishes he had just calmed down from the beginning.

First relationship:

You're going to see a lot of you taking the lead here, especially at first. Even if it's your first as well, it's like his mind just goes numb around you, and he can't think of what to do. Jongseob is flustered easily and nervous often, but he warms up and gets closer to you as time goes on.

First touch of affection:

I'm thinking of holding hands, playing with the other's hair, or fleeting kisses to the hands or cheek. These are the build ups to further things, but he holds them dear in his heart and remembers all the times you first did it. Jongseob would always ask before doing anything. He would only surprise you with physical touch after dating for a while and telling him on your own that it was okay. Besides light hitting while laughing, in which his arms just move on their own.

First kiss:

Jongseob's first kiss would be gentle, soft, slow to go in, fast to pull apart. You both asked each other so many times before doing it, yet both of you looked shocked the other actually did it. He wasn't the first to ask, but after you kissed once, he was the one to ask for a second. He trembles a bit before and after kissing you, but he feels serene for the few seconds his lips are on yours. It's innocent, but laced with a little desperation with how long you've both been waiting to do this.

First night sleeping together:

He doesn't know how, but in the morning, Jongseob woke up tangled in your arms and legs. Your head was laying on his chest, and he would just barely breathe to keep you from waking. When he tuned everything else out, he swore felt your heartbeat against him. That night, he respectfully decided to sleep on the other side from you to keep you from being uncomfortable. You assumed he wasn't ready to be that close yet, so you let him keep his distance near the edge. In the middle of the night, it's him crawling over to you.

First shower together:

Facing away from you, closing his eyes when he needs to turn over. He would feel guilty about being a 'creep', so hes really careful to not sneak any glances.. but accidentally.. He really doesn't mean to ! But when you asked for help washing your hair or back, his eyes just did what eyes do. Jongseob is stuttering a little bit or just goes quiet, and you can clearly feel the energy in the room shift. He can handle a little teasing, but he really appreciates reassurance and telling him it's okay.

First time:

Hes as excited as he is nervous. Hes really wanted to for a while, but waited until you wanted to just as bad. He doesn't mean to possibly tease you, but he needs to know you want this. Has you on top because he doesn't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, which is true, but he didn't mention it's also a huge turn on for him. Slow, soft, but it's passionate. Loves taking what you give him, but can't help lifting his hips into yours when he's close. It's something he does unconsciously. A lot of whining, sucking in his breath. Definitely have to quiet him down when he comes.

I'm going to write the nail date request soon !! it will be out hopefully tomorrow / later today, but within two-three days at the most. thank you for reading !! sorry if one paragraph of smut isnt the best find in the smut tags, im mainly using it for people who want to block it.

[koveragewithkiera]

“Bad Business” Scene Re-Write

I’ve officially started to think about how Dee would play out in certain scenes of the movie, and I couldn’t help but come out of writing retirement to do this. I’ve been feeling really inspired by all of the amazing fics this fandom has produced (I mainly read Smoke x Annie lol), so here’s the first of what is hopefully many from me.

WC: <1k

Characters: Smoke (Sinners 2025), Stack (Sinners 2025), Annie (Sinners 2025), Dee (OC)

————————

Both Stack and Annie walk into the closet begrudgingly, but it’s Dee that pisses Smoke off the most.

She coasts into the room with an air of annoyance that spews around the small space immediately, taking a seat on the side table the second she enters. She crosses her legs right as Smoke closes the door behind them all, leaning back on both hands without much of a care to give. Stack snickers lightly at the sight of her, but he quickly covers it with a cough when Smoke starts talking.

He’s the one Smoke’s eyes find first, the older brother’s tone strict as ever, “This ain’t no house party,”

Smoke’s eyes shift to Annie’s next, and she meets them with a small pout, “And it damn sure ain’t a no charity. We-“

He cuts himself off when his eyes finally find Dee’s, which are closed as her head leans back with small sigh. Smoke’s hands clasp together in front of his belt, his jaw ticking as his voice drops, “I’m sorry, am I botherin’ you?”

Her head lolls slowly towards him, her eyebrow quirked in question.

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with me.” She shrugs him off in that way that makes his eye twitch in the corner. He exhales sharply before returning to the other two.

“We takin’ cash. U.S. motherfuckin’ dollars.”

Annie hears Dee scoff in the corner and quickly tries to interject, “This ain’t Chicago, Smoke.”

Smoke practically recoils back at that, “The fuck that mean?”

Stack steps in, toothpick in hand as he attempts to resolve the situation, “That old nigga worked his ass off for them wooden nickels. These people been out in the field all week, Smoke.”

Annie nods encouragingly at the younger twin before adding with a steady tone, “They gotta feel wanted if you want this here to work.”

“Let’s give ‘em some time to relax and enjoy themselves properly.” Stack’s tone takes an unusually genuine approach, and Dee finds herself sporting a small grin. Smoke can feel his point slowly slipping through the cracks and desperately pulls something a bit below the belt.

His eyes switch between his brother and sister, knowing the answer well before he asks it, “When y’all was sellin’ ass out in Little Rock, y’all ever let somebody pay you with a goddamn promissory note?”

“Hell nah.” The two respond in unison, immediately causing Annie’s head to drop with a resigned sigh. Dee rolls her eyes at the line of questioning as Stack immediately stumbles out a word of their defense, “But haha, we wasn’t sellin’ ass in the Delta.”

Smoke just shakes his head, deciding to finish the conversation there, “Look, I don’t know hoodoo, and I can’t talk slick, but I know business. And this-“

“Oh, shut up.” Dee throws the words in the air with a twinge of frustration, clearly exasperated by this point.

Smoke snaps his head towards her, looking at her as if she’s suddenly grown two heads. He doesn’t even try to hide the bewilderment from his face.

“Excuse me?”

Dee finally stands from the table, not stepping up towards him quite yet. She hears Stack mumble something of a call to God before finally letting her mouth run loose.

“You heard me. I put the numbers together ‘fore we even left, but when I tried to tell ya stubborn ass this was gon’ happen, you ain’t wanna listen. Now you goin’ on and on ‘bout shit that don’t call for all this chatter.”

His eye does that same twitch again, and this time is paired with a small snarl at the lip. “What you tryna say?”

Dee takes a step up then, meeting his strong gaze with one of her own. She notices Stack take a small step towards them, preparing to get in-between should matters call for it.

She crosses her arms defiantly, her eyes as challenging as her words, “These people ain’t businessmen, and they damn sure ain’t gangstas. It ain’t right for us to come home after all these years treatin’ ‘em like they need us mo’ than we need them. ‘Specially right now.” Her tone drips with strong convocation, every syllable just as meaningful as the other.

She sees the exact moment she breaks through Smoke’s barrier, seeing the little ticks in his face soften just enough as he shakes his head.

“Somethin’ gotta give.”

Dee releases a soft exhale, her shoulders dropping as she gestures towards Annie, who watched the interaction with bated breath, “We’ll have Annie and Grace limit the drinks. I’ll stay by the bar, make sure nobody give ‘em no trouble.”

With the energy a bit less tense between the two, Stack smoothly slips behind Dee, throwing an arm around her shoulder. He adorns his classic smirk, toothpick still held between his thumb and finger, “‘Sides, it’s just openin’ night. They ain’t all gon’ look like this.”

Smoke’s gaze lingers between the two of them with a look of pure disapproval. Stack’s grin seems to only make it worse. His gaze shifts around them to Annie, who sends him a small look of pleading. It’s what snatches the very last of his resolve.

He turns back to Stack and Dee, “I need a goddamn cigarette.”

Dee snorts as Stack pats his shoulder with a laugh, “Comin’ right up.”

[raven-dor]

this fic is getting posted this FRIDAY at 8pm EST, so make sure to keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of you're my savior...

Violet continued. "I wish to know something, Anthony. Tonight, when you leave this study that you continue to keep at your family home, are you to return to your bachelor lodgings across the square, or will you pay a visit to a certain soprano that you tend to in an apartment that you pay for on the other side of town?" 

You gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. 

"You like to speak of responsibility. My dear son! Of duty? Pray, tell, what should you know of it? You must ask yourself, are you merely an older brother, or are you the man of this house?"

Violet stormed out of the study, and you tried your best to look as if you’d just happened upon the hallway, that you had not, in fact, been eavesdropping the entirety of their conversation. Anthony’s face was in his hands as you entered. 

"Mother, please leave me-"

"Anthony." You frowned, shutting the door gently behind you. "Are you quite alright?" He shrugged, finding it difficult to form words. You walked behind the desk, sitting directly in front of him. “Do not become cross with me.”

"Why would I be cross at you?" He tilted his head.

You reached out, holding his hands gently in yours. Your thumb caressed the back of his palm, your eyes trailing up from your joined hands to his eyes. "Anthony..."

"Not you, too." He sounded properly exhausted, simply dropping your hold as he walked toward the fire. That was somehow worse than him ripping his hands out of yours.  

You followed after him, crossing your arms. “I am merely saying that your mother has a point. You are a great Viscount, but you could-”

"I'm not my father."

You felt as if the very air you breathed had been pulled from your lungs. Your voice was soft as you spoke. "I know that."

“Then why does she keep insisting that I be-"

"I know that it feels as if she is putting the weight of the world on your shoulders, but she is trying to help you." You could not fight the urge to hold him any longer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you.” You whispered, heart skipping. “As do I.” 

He turned around, pulling your hand from his shoulder and holding it in his. “Promise me something.”

You decided to humor him, nodding. "Anything."

"Do not ever leave me." His eyes held a longing, a want for everything to remain the same. You pitied him. Eventually, you would marry, and now that you had accepted that you and Anthony were never to be, that would mean you would cease to see him.

"I will try my best."

He shook his head, pulling you closer, your breath intermingling, his eyes darting to your lips every so often. You so longed to jump up, to pull his lips to yours. “I do not know what I would do if I lost you.”

“Anthony, please.” You put a hand on his cheek, smiling as he leaned into your touch. “You would be fine-”

"I do not believe I would." He leaned down, your breath hitching as he laid his forehead against yours. "In fact, I know I would not."

You laughed, falling into the trap of domestic bliss. "Anthony, I will marry eventually. You and I will no longer see each other." 

He scoffed. "Pray tell, what possessed you to ruin my dream? Humor me." 

"Dream?” You raised your eyebrow, smiling giddily. “What dream is that?" His finger pressed against your lips, and you stopped, thanking the lord for the dim lighting the room provided. Hopefully, he could not see how wide your pupils were, your shallow breaths, your burning cheeks.

“It will not happen.” 

You raised your eyebrow once more, this time in offense. “Am I that difficult on the eye?” 

He laughed. “Do not fish for compliments. You know you are exquisite.” You sighed, stepping back. It all became too much, this complimenting, his dream, him. He tightened his hold on your hands, eyebrows furrowing. “Where are you off to?” 

“I should be going, Anthony. It is late-” 

“You always stay this late.” He frowned. “Is something-” 

“Dearest!” Your mother’s voice rang through the house, and your eyes widened, pulling away from the Viscount. “Dearest, we are leaving!” 

You would later thank your mother for her help. Curtsying quickly, you darted out of the study, racing down the steps. “Goodbye, my lord.” 

taglist: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!!

[theegh0st]

Happy Birthday! I really enjoyed your b-day doodle so I thought I would draw a drabble based on it to say “Happy Birthday.” I hope you enjoy it:

Noise emanated from behind the closed door. The windows were dark, but the mutters and scraping and shushing made it clear that the space behind the door was filled. Legend drew his sword, put his hand on the doorknob, and readied himself for whatever had infiltrated his house.

The second he opened the door, his house filled with light. A caterwauling erupted from every direction. Near blinded and head ringing from the noise, Legend lunged forward. His right calf barreled into something solid, and his sword flew out of his hand. He fell face first into his own wooden floor.

“Ledge?” came a voice clearly as the caterwauling stopped. “You okay?”

“Mr. Hero!” Ravio’s voice followed. Legend’s muscles relaxed at the sound of the seemingly unharmed freeloader. “I told you that he doesn’t like surprises.”

“We only wanted to throw him a surprise party,” the first voice said, contrite and guilty. It sounded familiar, but Legend felt that it was deeper than it should be. “Since we didn’t bring gifts with us. How were we supposed to know we’d find our way back to him on his birthday?”

“Find our way back”? Legend’s head snapped up, and the bright room came into focus. Eight faces hovered nervously behind Ravio. A grown version of their youngest hovered the closest and gave his signature wide grin.

“Happy Birthday, Ledge.” The grown teen rubbed the back of his head, and his grin grew chagrined. “Sorry about tripping you. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Sailor?” he couldn’t help but ask weakly. Hopefully. His vision was getting blurry. Legend quickly wiped his eyes. If they were really here, they would never let him forget it if he cried now. Please let this not be a dream. He’d rather they tease him for the rest of his life.

“Vet,” the teen’s deeper voice answered. “Took us a while, but we finally found our way back to you.”

Propping himself up on his knees, Legend stared at his youngest brother’s grown face wondering if he had a good enough imagination to conjure such a detailed version of Wind’s older face. But it soon got to close to examine as the sailor leaned in to hug him.

“Sorry we didn’t bring a present,” Legend’s youngest brother whispered into his ear.

“You better bring one next time,” Legend managed through a choked throat. He held tightly to the back of his brother’s dumb blue lobster tunic. Real. He was real.

“We will,” the sailor promised and said nothing more as the Hero of Legends pressed his face into the crook of his neck and quietly sobbed.

HUH WHAT WHHAGSHS HUUUUHHH ANON YOU DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS BUT OMG THANK YOU

THERE ARE 2 WOLVES INSIDE ME AND THEY ARE BOTH VERY HAPPY AND GRATEFUL

Legend probably needed that after being tripped by wind lol

[yawping-poets-society]

Hi!! Do you have any Dead Poets Society fics you could recommend?? :]

ooh ty for the ask!! and boy do i EVER! these are all anderperry bc that's what most people come to the fandom for, but lmk if you want something else and i can drop some more recs! and these are all also on ao3 as that's where i read and where most people post

gonna start by saying that while i've got you in my inbox, if you'd be so kind as to allow me, i'd love to shamelessly plug some of my beloved mutuals' fics. ongoing first bc ongoing fics deserve more love!!! Secondhand Smoke by @scriptscraps has two chapters up and started in march, and A Cosmic Sense by @good--merits-accumulated started just this past week and has an intro and the first chapter up!! and also the wonderful @glitteredbubbles wrote Let Me Wallow in Your Afterglow which is kinda legendary in the fandom imho?? that one's finished! they're all very talented and you should check their fics out!!!

moving on....

Speak Low by auxctor has to be one of the most talkedd about fics in the fandom, and that's for a REASON. highly highly recommend, you will cry and it will be worth it. all of their fics are great! there's a currently in progress sequel to speak low as well, which you should also check out if you like this one!!

i'm a sucker for a good timeloop fic, and i loved both I Am To See To It (that i do not lose you) by The_Ship_Pirate and What We Stay Alive For by PiscesVanity

pretty like dandelions is one of my personal favorite fics by perksofbeingpoet, who is on tumblr under the same username, and is definitely a pillar of the fandom. you should absolutely read all of their fics!!

something that stays by jublis is probably one of my favorite dps fics of all time?? todd and mr. keating exchange letters in a post-welton world (where neil is alive, dw pooks)

Two men to make one brother by SomewhereBeyondReality is actually not anderperry, and it is canon compliant, but it genuinely is such a good character study of jeffery that it has influenced all of my hcs about him and his relationship with todd

also i write some stuff which you could find here. if you wanted.

[battle-subway-twins]

Ingo nodded, glad that the other took shelter inside a cave at least. It likely still wasn't warm in any aspect but it was better than he could have hoped for otherwise. He feared perhaps the foxes all just gathered into a large cuddle pile to keep warm at night. So in his mind he still felt the need to grab one of his warmer blankets to bring to the other. He could always get another one fairly easily after all but he knew that Harmonia could not.

The man feels a bit bad for startling the other with his sudden movements but he couldn't help the weary feeling in his legs. All this sneaking was definitely hard upon him given how unused to it he was. At least he could do it better than he used to be able to when he first awoke in the snow.

"... I sort of understand what you mean... There is something I feel it's best forgotten but then... I feel like this empty husk full of emotions that I can't understand the source of. It's... Not a pleasant alternative."

Ingo sighs because aside from the utter sadness and regret he felt he more over felt like half of him was missing... Something... Something he was around near constantly was gone and his heart ached greatly to find it again. He frowned harder as he contemplated that before shaking his head because all he was doing was overthinking and hurting his head in the process. His attention is drawn when Harmonia joins him in sitting and his frown lessens into his version of a smile. It was nice to see that the other trusted him this much. He would do his best to not break that trust.

"It would be no trouble but if you're sure then I can serve it as is. Here."

The man moves to the pack he'd removed and pulled out a small pot that was carefully wrapped so it wouldn't break. He was pleased to find that it didn't feel all that cold to the touch and wondered if it was from the fabric he'd used to brace it. Either way it should at least be lukewarm and that was better than cold. He cautiously passed the pot over, not wanting to startle his companion with a sudden movement.

"It's a pretty simple meal but I found it to be filling and tasty. Hopefully you will as well."

"No, of course not..."

Not...often. There have been times he's dozed off in the snow and been woken up frigid. It's not the brightest thing he does, and even the foxes don't know better at times when they can no longer feel the cold. He doesn't blame them. He wishes he couldn't feel the cold either, then he could stay out in the snow as long as he liked. But the night brought a dangerous chill he couldn't stand too much of. It was a shame... The night in this land was so pretty.

Harmonia's attention snaps back when he catches the other's movement, but he relaxes fairly quickly on seeing Ingo was merely moving to sit. That was okay... He hums with a simple nod in understanding. The amount of times he wakes up crying and not knowing why...

"I'd like to think it might be a blessing I've forgotten, but I'm not sure how much better this is..."

It isn't like he wants to complain. He strangely feels he doesn't have a right to, like he should keep quiet about his feelings and upsets, but...he doesn't know why. He is upset. He's angry. He's sad. He's hurting. But something strange in him makes him feel like he's not allowed to feel these things. It makes him wonder just what happened to him, and that maybe he really didn't want to know. He breathes out a tired sigh and let's himself sink to his knees in the snow, out of reach of Ingo, but...closer than he normally allows himself. Perhaps he does enjoy this company. His mask stares at the other, and his head tilts off to the side.

"O-oh... I'm not picky. I don't mind if it's cold. You...didn't have to..."

One couldn't afford to be picky when living the way he did. He was lucky to get food at all. He felt unused to the help, almost like he shouldn't have it. Ingo doing as much as making food like this for him...felt like a spoiling he didn't deserve.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent life photos

[sysig]

Things could be better, if you were to ask Ishida (Patreon)

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

my mental health support worker referred me to my local area's community mental health support group and I'm going there for the first time tomorrow aaaaand I'm really nervous 😟 apparently it's super nice there, there's not too many people and some of them are young like me, and you get to do crafts and stuff... but idk ajksjdkdh I don't know anyone there and meeting new people is scaryyyy 😭 hopefully it will be okay? and maybe I'll make a friend???

[ettadunham]

sometimes i remember the hunger games and how nobody actually paid attention to what was in those books